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Before he knew it, Liam was driving down a road lined by small shops. Though the road itself wasn’t in the best shape and the shrubbery lining it had overgrown, most of the shops were in good condition. A window was bashed in here and there, but often the window had been covered with wood or cardboard, and Liam saw customers in a few of them. There was an air of life on this road, a resilience of community that had survived Calamity. The van slowed down, and Liam moved over to the curb. He noticed a few side glances and even an open stare as he did so, but many more averted their eyes. Simultaneously he noticed the telltale signs of concealed weapons on a few of the pedestrians. Calamity had still left its mark, and the red war-fitted Volkswagen wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. “One hundred and twenty-somethingth street,” Kokichi mumbled, squinting through the window. Liam relaxed inwardly. Seeing Kokichi back on their feet lifted a weight that had been resting on his shoulders. “Wanna poke around or keep moving?” They asked. Liam glanced around at the street and nodded. “I was thinking the same thing,” he replied as he grabbed his jacket and shotgun. “Let’s go see why we’re here.” Liam elected to move the van to an alley before they went snooping around. Though he doubted that many of the citizens would do much, Liam would prefer not to attract the attention of any local Epics. Once on the sidewalk, he turned to Kokichi and gestured to the row of stores. “So, where to first?”

Elend: I don't like ash. It's rough and course, and it stains everything.

Hey there, everyone! Thought I'd introduce myself a little. I've become an avid Brandon Fan over this last year ever since I figured to go and check out Way of Kings back in December. I have absolutely fallen in love with his Fantasy works, mostly the Stormlight Archive, and was delighted to see all the extra material Brandon has created and shared on writing. I am aspiring to be a Fantasy novelist myself and am currently working on two different novels. One being a pseudo-Ancient-Greek mystery and political intrigue story that's already through the first draft and I plan to revise next month. The other is my long-going passion project that's already gone through more revisions than I can count - and is currently in its next (and hopefully final) planning phase. I also dabble in making digital art and have found Sanderson's fantastic worlds and characters to be a great excuse to get some more practice in. Figured it was only fitting to pick my little Koloss drawing from a while ago for my avatar here. I am looking forward to meeting many fellow Cosmere fans here to Crempost with and perhaps also get some feedback on my creative works too.

This was the first forum post dealio that I saw and it wanted me to let people know I exist. I exist.

Present Day Edmonton wasn't Edmonton anymore. That was more or less expected. Some Epics kept the names of the cities they conquered; others decided names like Miami and Atlanta were too sensible and changed them. Still, Olympia Polaris wasn't bad, as city names went, and there wasn't much point in complaining anyway, so Nathan didn't bother. Entering from one of the southeastern checkpoints would have been simplest, but Jade thought it best to approach cities from angles that gave fewer clues as to their point of origin. "You think your mom has spies this far east?" She'd shrugged, and the unease he'd glimpsed had made him drop the subject. She took his hand and an extra jump, and they landed a fair distance from the northeastern edge of the city, hopefully far enough to evade notice from any lookouts and to give the impression they'd reached Olympia Polaris by ordinary means. The packs on their backs—stocked with survival gear, which Jade insisted was a must in the northern wilderness, superpowers or no—helped sell the illusion. Walking after a series of jumps seemed to help Jade clear her head, and it seemed they needed to do a good bit of it before reaching the areas where people lived. The northern sector didn't seem to be a popular locale; the first cluster of houses they passed stood empty, some windows broken and others crusted with years of dirt and grime. When they did pass an occupied dwelling, the owners called their children inside and then stood in the open door, watching them until they were gone. The slam of a door echoed down the street. Nathan thought of Portland, and then shook the thought away. This wasn't Portland. The locals they'd spoken to had mentioned competing factions and a semblance of peace. It wasn't Portland. Sightings of residents increased as they moved toward downtown, and while Nathan still sensed tension, it was a different sort. The residents here didn't hide in whatever structures were available, but walked out in the open. More than one sported the conspicuous bulge of a barely-concealed firearm; simple logic dictated that others would have weapons better hidden in their bags or clothing. He and Jade attracted more than a few long stares, but those usually ended at their packs and the apparent conclusion that they were just passing through. He'd been no stranger to walking in Newcago, and he'd only done more of it since Oregon's destruction. But weariness always set in sooner or later, and he longed for a place to set his pack down, something to drink and maybe to eat. Despite the odd broken window, downtown Olympia Polaris boasted a number of restaurants, aromas wafting out from open doors. He was just about to ask Jade if she had a destination in mind when the answer appeared before him, written in yellow script on a black sign. "Destination Doughnuts," Jade read aloud. He could hear the smile in her tone, growing with each syllable, probably due to the smell of fried sugar drifting toward them, enticing as the promise of warmth and comfort and relative safety it implied. Seems like a sign. Nathan almost said it, but the unintended pun was bad enough to give him pause. "Looks like a good place." "No." Jade took his hand, her voice breathless with wonder, and led him toward the door. "It's destiny."

In the released Dragonsteel there is a scene where it is revealed that the Sho Del use silver sheathes. This stuck out to me as an odd material for a sheathe so I asked about it in the reddit AMA and here is the response: Seeing as how Ambitions Vessel was a Sho Del, my latest crackpot is that perhaps silver being an important metal on Threnody is a result of Uli Da's culture being expressed in the magic. Really glad (and a bit surprised i was right there) to have gotten this confirmation, what do you guys think?

feruchemy, its so useful for day to day and for combat. all the random aspects like luck or determination would be really useful not to mention healing and super speed+strength, mental speed

When you sew yourself a skirt and add some allomantic symbols as decorations.

Hey everyone, My name is Jeremy. I have finished every book written in the Cosmere and I just stumbled upon this fan page while checking for future books on Brandon's site. This is awesome! Has anyone else finished all the books? If you have, what theories do you have for future books? I have a few and I think it would be fun to converse with you all!

I had the opportunity to listen to the Graphic Audio of Warbreaker recently (HIGHLY recommend them, if you have the chance, the full cast and production is a wonderful experience), and I noticed something about Lightsong that stood out but was never really addressed: Lightsong is unwholesomely Lucky. At one point Lightsong is playing a game called Tarachin with the other Gods, a game described as "one of the most difficult games in the world" because it required both great physical ability as well as layered strategy. Lightsong, being awesome, never bothered to learn the rules and instead just likes to choose and throw the balls randomly, yet he always manages to do better than the avid players. So there he is, musing about how the different Gods get slightly different forms, how they all seem to get more or less the same Godlike physique but unfortunately there's no guarantee of any increased intelligence. Meanwhile he's throwing balls over his shoulder and winning at a game he doesnt understand all the while wishing he knew enough to be able to loose on purpose. Here's the thing, we know that the Returned's physical attributes get way more Fluid, reflecting more of what they Believe they should be rather than their inborn reality (and this can be consciously manipulated with training). Most got Young and Huge and Physically Impressive, at least one got Old and Wise because she believed in that godly image. But Lightsong never really believed in his own Divinity, and I think that deep down he believed that all the Returned were just People Who Got Lucky. In light of his performance on the Tarachin Field, I think Lightsong was actually Augmenting his Fortune attribute. And if Returned are indeed influencing their spiritual Attributes as well as physical, there's every possibility that they could learn to consciously manipulate those attributes the same way Vasher (or the Royal locks line) can willfully control the physical portions of their Spirit-web. Given how the Breaths work by sort of merging with (or overlaying on) the Spiritweb, it would make logical sense that it would be positioned to subtly manipulate it, and Breaths respond to Intent/Commands directly more than a lot of Investiture types.

Racist person: "Storm them Canadians listening to their Canadian rap music." Me: "What's wrong with Drake?" RP: "No, I meant-" Me: "Is this because of Degrassi, eh? 'Cause he's matured." RP: "No, it's... Never mind." Me: "I'll send you a link to his JUNO acceptance speech!" ********* Racist person (alternate dimension): "Boo Aussies!" Two hours later... RP: "No replies? Ha! I got away with it." The next day... RP: "AHHH! They got me in the night!"

... I think we should stick with the islands.

Might I suggest a land mass made of solid gold? It would be populated with augurs who spend their time getting high on the metal, looking at their hallucinations to try to gauge how many extra pounds they've gained recently. We could call it the 'count-yer-weight continent'. Obviously, that wasn't a serious suggestion. If we want this to be a realistic planet, the other side should mostly be made up of the backside of four elephants.

We know from the WoB I got (which I am very very smug about) that Maya probably would have been willing to bond with him i she were alive, so I'd say that's good evidence that Adolin would make a good Edgedancer. I think he's got a ways to go to realize that about himself though, he's very hung up on being what people expect him to be, and I think that's causing him to not notice some of his other strengths, or not value them.

Looks like a good question to me. I'd say make sure you think ahead to try and anticipate a couple ways he might answer, to keep a good conversation running. Like if you get a "yes," to ask if there's a marbling pattern or color that's akin to Veden hair; not as unusual as crystal nails or harder teeth, but indicative of a piece of cross pollination. Or if you get a "no," to swing over and ask if singer races are as distinct and varied as the Vorins, Makabaki, and Iriali are for the humans.

Welcome to Shard! Don't accept any non-certified Hemalurgy-free cookies - they can be very harmful to existence - and try not to give your breath away. What's your favorite form of Investiture?

Personal I would either like to be a A-Bendalloy F-Zinc so I could out-think anyone anywhere. Escape room? No problem I'll spend 1minute in fast time with 8x mental speed and have figured it out. Or I would be A-Nicrosil F-Steel so I could run up to someone burning a metal and watch as their power explodes, figuratively. How fun it would be to touch someone burning iron. They would get smashed!

You do not know how awesome and emotionally gut punching that latest post was. Or, you know, you do. because you should.

For one thing, it's possible to fit into multiple orders. For another, the only Edgedancer we've seen is Lift, and as has been pointed out a few times, Adolin and Lift's motivations are not as wildly different as the characters seem at first. I can't think of anything to say he would fit as an Edgedancer better than this That's not to say that a spren of a different type couldn't also be drawn to him... But his actions of the course of the series fit best with her in my opinion.

Thanks for the welcome! I think my favourite character so far is Elland Venture from the Mistborn series. I love the way he grows and develops as the books go on. I imagine he's not most people's first choice, but he really grew on me. How about you?

Thanks for the ideas. I like the idea of some sort of smoke based abilities—how does this look? Real name: Anya (something). I’m thinking she either doesn’t have a last name or it means something in a different language. Callsign: This is a work in progress. Preferably not animal themed or ending in “girl/woman”— I’m a fan of the two words into one, but short names are useful too. Nothing too hard to pronounce. Primary: Smoke screen. Anya can generate and (very loosely) control a smokey substance that blocks the vision of her opponents while making it difficult to breath. She’s immune to it. Perhaps she can control how dense it is. Primary passive: Wall sticking. Because carbon makes lots of bonds and also because it’s cool. Secondary passive: Default enhancement portfolio to physical treats, focusing on dexterity, perception, and strength but with no particular disadvantage in speed or endurance. She doesn’t have any mental buffs, and the experience of growing up with her powers make it incredibly difficult to relate to people normally/talk at all Limits: I want to make it that using her primary for too long has some sort of energy cost— whether that be through dehydration, hunger, exhaustion, body fats, or something. Maybe her internal resistance to her own powers isn’t infailabke and the longer she’s using them, the harder it gets for her to breathe? I’ll post some drawings of her finalized appearance/the project if any of ya’ll are curious!

And they are the coolest freaking pictures ever!

Viktor moved over to the new Epic. Cautiously, since apparently those tentacles were plasma. Or so the man said. If it was plasma it should radiate heat, and act as a plasma torch to whatever it passed through. Viktor smiled. He had gotten that knowledge soon after he was Turned. The original owner was an overweight, balding man in a lab coat. Funny how even though he was a theoretical physicist he still wore a lab coat. It protected him from what, chalk dust? That man had lasted almost a month before he snapped. Having your talents forcibly extracted from you, the knowledge and expertise of a lifetime slowly drained from your mind tended to do that to people. Of course, Viktor took more care with those whose skills were useful, or rare, but the man didn't seem to have anything valuable. Though Viktor didn't know. After all, he couldn't drain someone's skill if he didn't know it existed. Except if he did a general drain, but that was terribly inefficient. Viktor focused back on topic. He was supposed to be nice to the newcomer, so he settled into the chair opposite 'Tendril', holding out a cup. "Care for some tea?" One of the things Viktor drained most often, if he had time, was tea brewing. It had started out as a joke, but then he discovered that knowledge like that didn't affect people too much. Many times people didn't seem to notice. Of course, since almost no one was actually good at making tea, the amount he could drain wasn't very large. Especially once he started getting good at it and the diminishing returns kicked in. Still, Viktor enjoyed tea, so it was worth it.

Several Weeks Ago Newcago Fortuity was dead. The families working the farms surrounding the city tended to stay out of politics. Feuds between government Epics weren't of much interest to them. The dizzying cycle of who had fallen into favor and who had fallen out of it had seemed like common knowledge to Nathan only because he overheard the gossip on every shift. To those just outside the city, it might be mentioned offhandedly, if at all. The Reckoners in Newcago, however—that was news. An assassination was news. And the death of an immortal, invincible, downright divine Epic was the biggest news of all. "It's probably best if you go in alone," Jade said. Nathan hadn't completely absorbed the news—but then, he wasn't sure a week would be enough time for it to sink in. "I mean, Enforcement doesn't work for Steelheart anymore, but they probably got my face on one of their cameras or whatever." She paused before cracking half a grin. "'Cept they might not recognize me without all that glitter." He'd considered making a quick joke about that. If Jade brought it up herself, he assumed it wasn't a sore spot. "Unless you used more glitter." She nodded, lower lip protruding as though she'd pondered the notion and found it acceptable. "Not a bad idea. Just, like, put on a whole tub of it so all they see is this big shiny thing walking down the street." "Between that and the rest of the city, everybody'd be too blind to try and nab you." She smiled, then cast a quick glance around, made certain they were alone, and waved a hand over the dirt. Two radios appeared, each small enough to fit in the palm of a hand. She handed one to him and pocketed the other. "If anyone gives you trouble, or you think they might, call me and I'll get you out, okay?" So it was happening. The shining city behind him, the place he thought he'd never return to in his lifetime—he would walk its streets soon, retrace steps he'd taken a thousand times and thought he'd never take again. All of those questions that had kept him awake, all the questions that had become nightmares and awful sick certainties, would have answers. He'd greet his friends or learn where to find their remains. Not for the first time, he wanted to beg Jade to come with him. Tell her to put a hood over her hair, don wide enough sunglasses to make identification difficult, maybe hide her chin under an especially high turtleneck. From all they'd learned, it would be a friendlier city, a kinder government, a gentler Enforcement he'd find—and yet he couldn't shake the image of black-suited officers swooping in on him the moment his foot touched steel, of one of Steelheart's former government grabbing his arm. But once they had him, who would they return him to? Fortuity was dead; Steelheart had followed in his footsteps. Every other Epic was now a threat to the government, rather than the government itself. "What sort of signal should I use?" She shrugged. "Just whatever." So she didn't expect him to give her a running commentary on the city from inside. That eased two burdens—the other being what sort of signal he'd need to remember. If she had nothing in mind, he could simply scream incoherently into the radio and she'd be there in a heartbeat. ******************** He hadn't been certain he'd remember all his friends' old addresses after two years and everything that had filled them, but it didn't matter—Carmen wasn't in her old apartment. Sympathy crossed the new tenant's face when she saw the look on his, and before too long he stood outside another door, still in the understreets but mere steps and staircases from Fortuity's old penthouse. During the journey over, he'd wished more than once that Jade was at his side. Not just for the sort of protection only a matter manipulator could provide, but so she could elbow him and call attention to some completely ordinary thing only she would notice, to make an observation only she would make. He wanted to hear her opinions on the trashcans, the old cars frozen in place, the absolute relentless shininess of it all and the city's attempts to make it bearable. Walking through Newcago in sunlight was almost as disorienting as it was familiar, and he wished Jade had been there to stave off the worst of the confusion. Now, standing before an apartment a good deal larger than the one he'd had, he wished for Jade again even through the relief that he was alone. Whatever he found, whatever his reaction, he didn't want her to see it—and yet he didn't want to face the truth alone. Newcagoans weren't known for cruel pranks. Not ordinary people, anyway. Epics, sure, but not those who lived beneath them. The thought threatened to slip through Nathan's mind as he knocked on the door. "Oh my god." Carmen's voice. Breathless with fear, but her voice. She'd survived. A male voice answered back, the words an indistinct hum, and Nathan couldn't tell who owned it. For an awful moment he thought the farmers had been wrong, that Fortuity hadn't died; a glimpse toward the future would've told him where to wait, how to best lay a trap, when to barge through the door with gun raised— The door swung open. Carmen's hands flew to her mouth. Nathan had known he'd see her, sooner or later, once he heard her voice. He knew he'd see her dark straight hair, falling loose around her shoulders as she always allowed it to on her days off. He suspected he'd see her brown eyes glimmering with tears, as they had been on that last night, when he'd been too wrapped in terror for a proper goodbye. He thought he'd say something then, maybe not something witty but something friendly at least; but all he could do was stare. "What," she said, and her voice trembled, "did I say when you told me what Lord Snakehands ordered?" Damien had appeared just behind the doorway, his expression mirroring Carmen's but without any tears Nathan could see. Victoria stood at the opposite side of the doorway and a few feet back, frantically tapping out a message on her mobile. Carmen's hand gripped the door, as if ready to close it at a second's notice. A shapeshifter. Of course. The one that came immediately to Nathan's mind didn't seem the type to play such a cruel prank on some lowly servers—whether or not she was the real Taylor Swift, she'd been pretty busy keeping up the pop star persona—but she wasn't the only one in the Fractured States. Carmen had to make sure. Better to give up hope all at once than have it torn away. A slight smile tugged at Nathan's mouth. For any business catering to Epics, the safest motto had always been some variation on Give the Customer What They Want, and the LaBeau Restaurant and Casino had adopted that one nearly word for word. Managers and servers alike made it their guiding philosophy—even when a minor Epic with snakes for hands demanded his chicken parmigiana be cooked medium rare. "You said, 'Guess he wants food poisoning.'" The words were scarcely out before Carmen threw her arms around him and sobbed into his shoulder. ********************** Jade had an atlas to keep her company. Whenever it didn't seem like much, she reminded herself she could have had nothing at all. At first, she traced and retraced the possible routes from Newcago to Anchorage with her finger. The atlas was old enough to call the city at the edge of Lake Michigan Chicago, and the metropolis dominating the upper East Coast was still called New York City, but the highways still followed the same routes now as they had back then, so the atlas wasn't quite obsolete. Anchorage wasn't the only place in Alaska they could travel to. Without a car, she could bypass the little loop of highway leading through Marsh Lake and Hanes, cutting to Juneau directly from Treslin or Watson Lake. Even Kodiak was a viable option, what with teleportation eliminating the need for a ferry or plane. But from all she'd heard, Anchorage was still the largest city and therefore the most likely place to find her mom. Jade's stomach clenched. Maybe they ought to go to Bethel first. It was a longer trip, but a longer trip meant longer breaks and longer breaks meant more of a delay. And delays weren't always a bad thing. They could be a good thing, like when you stopped for a few hours to find old friends. Unless those friends had each been strapped to a table, one after the other, long before you even dreamed of returning to find them. She longed to stand, to try and walk off the shaking that threatened to set in, but stayed where she was. It was best if she didn't walk around too much, best if she didn't give anyone happening by the long-vacant home something interesting to see through the windows. Nathan had taken a big enough risk walking into the city, albeit a calculated one, after learning what he had from those farmers. He didn't need the rogue Epic who'd gotten his friends into that mess causing a stir. She forced her attention back to the map. The most direct routes already avoided Calgary, consumed as it was with a stampede of Epics. An old atlas couldn't know that—most maps wouldn't know that—but it was good for her to know that they wouldn't have to go out of their way to avoid the city. That same path would lead through cities and towns with some of the best names she'd heard—Creelman and Dundurn and Saskatoon. If they wanted to go a little off that path, they could head north at Fargo and hit Winnipeg, though they'd miss Portal entirely. She made a mental note to get Nathan's opinion when he returned. Jade frowned at the sky. Still bright, but the sun had moved a good bit further across the horizon. Hours had passed without so much as a peep from her radio. Maybe Nathan had run into an Epic, or exactly the wrong Enforcement officer—though with the way he'd kept one hand near his pocket on his way toward the city, he would've had time to at least press the call button and if Jade had heard that staticky blip, she would've been in the city before anyone could blink. The chance he'd been attacked before he even had time to think about the radio nearly made her risk Enforcement and port into the city, but a different thought gave her pause. He might have found his friends. If one or two had survived, he would have spent the past several hours with them and nowhere else. Even if they all avoided mentioning the worse parts of the past two years, that was a long time to be apart and they would have had a lot to talk about. That thought—it was a good one, or as good as it could be, given the situation. The other conjured up an image: Nathan alone on a steel bench somewhere, head in his hands. She bit her lip, turning the oversized page in a vain attempt at distraction. She'd humiliated a very dangerous Epic, sent him from sadistic pleasure to fury in the space of a minute, toyed with him when she ought to have fled without looking back. It had been fun, sure—but that was all she'd thought about. Fun. Having fun, poking fun, being fun. Not about the people left with the consequences. Jade flipped away from Canada and turned to a random page toward the front, only barely registering it was a map of Georgia. She'd get a call from Nathan soon, just a quick one saying they needed to talk. Or maybe he wouldn't deliver the words in person; maybe he'd say what he needed to the moment he heard her voice: "I'd rather stay here. It's safer now. My friends are gone, but I…I can't go back. I can't go with you." She'd expected something similar when she gave him that iPod, and something stronger when they'd left an Oregon beyond hope, but it had made sense for him to stay then. She'd been his best option, an Epic he could rely on for safety when she was in her right mind, one he could neutralize when she wasn't. Sometimes she thought he might consider her something like a friend, though the actual designation would always elude her. It was only fair, after she'd kidnapped him, made him her boyfriend, and paraded him around a war zone in a paper-thin disguise. Jade didn't quite believe in miracles, but the fact Nathan had stuck around as long as he had certainly qualified as one. Once he saw what she'd done, he'd end that nonsense for sure. ************************** When the sun was nearly at the horizon once again, her radio gave out a sudden burst of static and a familiar voice. "Hey, Jade. Sorry I couldn't call you before. I'm on my way now." Jade looked to the suede duster he'd left folded neatly on the floor. They'd agreed it was best if he went into Newcago without it; having him masquerade as an Epic had never been one of her better ideas, and leaving even part of that illusion in place would be even worse in a city stuck fending them off. She had spent the better part of the afternoon wondering if he'd be back for it, wondering if she ought to turn it to dirt or water to help the memory fade. "I still have your duster." "Yay." He sounded tired, but glad. Jade half-smiled. "You know, I could've just made you another one." "It wouldn't be the same." She couldn't think why he'd want to hang onto a wrong-colored coat he'd gotten from a dangerously unstable Epic on a night he'd been kidnapped twice, but his tone turned her half smile into a whole one anyway—one that fell when she remembered what he might have found. "Is—how did it go?" "I'll tell you once I get there." Heat rushed to her cheeks. She should have known that question was better answered in person. "Yeah, okay." "It went fine, though." Those words were tricky. They sounded encouraging, and he'd said them in an encouraging way, but they could mean almost anything. Maybe he meant two of his friends had survived instead of one, or that they were far happier to see him than he'd thought they'd be. Or maybe he meant their ashes were contained in nicer urns than he'd thought they'd get. She was still working through all the possible meanings of It went fine when Nathan appeared out of the distance, gleaming city at his back. He wasn't her boyfriend. He'd never asked for the title, and she'd long since abandoned it, to his obvious relief. He wasn't an Epic, either, but as he strode forward with hands in pockets she was reminded of an old comic book, one with the hero walking casually and pensively from the city he'd just saved. Of course, he hadn't saved it—he'd just visited, and for a while too—but she thought maybe he could have. He'd saved her, after all, found her remaining humanity and dragged it to safety. If Newcago or Babilar or any other city needed saving, she had no doubt Nathan could manage. She gave him his duster and he readily pulled it on. The day itself had been fairly warm, but evening chills set in quickly. Maybe she should have let him speak first, waited for him to answer before she asked the question, but she couldn't wait. "So it went okay?" "Yeah." Surprise laced the word. "He didn't kill them." Jade could only blink. "I guess—you know how he couldn't see too far into the future? Apparently, he decided that if he kept them around awhile, they'd have to crack sooner or later. Figured that day was always just a little further than what he could see, so he moved them closer and kept an eye on them." He gave a small sniff, like something a couple dozen steps away from a laugh. "They figured he got so mad, he left them alive." Nathan didn't quite smile, but Jade saw enough amusement to know he'd meant that last bit as a quip. All she heard was what he didn't say—what moved them closer and kept an eye on them must have meant. She wouldn't ask for details, and there was a chance his friends hadn't shared them anyway, but her mind supplied a few possibilities. She suppressed a shudder. "Are they okay?" He didn't answer immediately, drawing a long breath and looking off into the distance just past her before speaking. "Think so." It wasn't a definite answer, and Jade appreciated that. He wasn't lying for her benefit. His friends had walked through hell for the past two years, a hell partially of her creation, but they'd come out alive. They'd outlived their tormenter and the immortal Epic who had permitted it all. That was something. For a long minute, Nathan said nothing and Jade didn't try. He was looking for the words, she thought, to tell her he'd decided to stay. She tried to find the words to tell him that was okay. That's fine was the safest answer, so long as she didn't make it sound sad enough to make him want to go with her. It was short, yes, but I don't care sounded too harsh and I don't mind was a flat-out lie. Maybe she'd just nod, ask if there was anything he needed. "So," he said. It had a businesslike air about it, and she thought she'd anticipated what he'd say next. Thought she'd need one of the answers she'd prepared. "Did you want to stay here for the night, or head north now?"

When you are reading other books and you keep trying to find Hoid in there somewhere even when not written by Sanderson

Found this image on Facebook, couldn't resist: Also, I also found this on Facebook:

Adolin hasn't grown addicted to the Thrill like Dalinar had, and Adolin isn't pure as snow, but he isn't weak or evil either. He's already thrown off The Thrill in battle, growing sick at the sight of death like Dalinar did. I think chosing to lose wouldn't be an option once Odium had his hooks into you.

hello there. i'm from iran and i came by this community accidenataly looking for a meaning for the word Slontze and i said why not? That would be my username. i'm really glad i found it here and i hope i can have great times with everyone. im told to just edit the post. well as most of the worlds in his stories have dark themes, id rather try warbreaker. actually i do really love the world so much, especially the capital city

The gemstone archive seems to imply that it the Sibling had retreated before the Recreance, as the note saying goodbye to it was made by a Radiant. Furthermore, Pattern implies in WoR that the Stormfather was hurt by the Recreance, making it likely that he was the one bonded at the time.

Might I suggest "Canadian?"

Yeah, @Silva, Mudkip and I are alone with the game like this... We have virtual candy!

Good theory! I suspect that the 3rd sibling was the one that was bonded at the time of the Recreance and was damaged severely by the actions of the Radiants at that time. We know that the sibling itself slumbers, would it be possible that it is in fact slumbering in Shinovar? - This could be why the Shin are so sacred about stone? This could also possibly be why the Shin were entrusted with the keeping of the honorblades? Although, we saw a Shin man finding them after Aharietem, so the two things may be separate and different. Either way, I wouldn't be surprised if Shinovar plays a big part in the next book. Especially with Szeth's stated crusade.

I don't think atium mistings occur any longer @Oltux72. Atium can't be created without Ati. Edit: went looking for WoBs to see if it's mentioned and found this... Whatever that means...

I like this idea. Partially because Moash harnessing Yelig-nar would be terrifying. Partly because then Nale won’t get the Unmade. Oh, and @Vissy forgot to answer you. Moash/Vyre is totally being built up for something. He has been given POVs to show us his reasoning, a backstory, a conflict with a main character, a Honorblade and killed a Herald. That is totally being built-up.

I’ve been meaning to ask this for some time now, what colour is your hair?

Yup. Hadn't thought of it myself, but if they died and someone suggested that, I would have readily done so. Because they're just that great. Also, does anyone know when those invitations from Epoch should be out?

This sentence is false. Oof paradox what have I done. You can’t argue with Morgan Freeman.

Hi

It is amusing how completely one sided the poll is. : )

All hail Glorious Mudkip...

I would be a zinc ferring and a soother.

Foggy outside where I live for the first time in years. My friends: Look at all the fog! Me: Harmony is watching. Do not kill today.

"Why not both? Though your list of RP ships is probably going to go out the door..." - Ashspren WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? These are not in order, they're just as I think of them. [REDACTED]. Smokestone. OOSOOM. Condor. Juneo. Flashbacks Squared. Cole x We-Don't-Know-Her-Name. Shalcatraz (kidding) (maybe). More that I'm surely forgetting. Fire, were you gonna answer what Ink said in my AMA? You don't have to, just wondering.

Warbreaker Lord of the Rings

Thank you. So it's like 'axe-hound'. Makes sense. The tranquiline halls were infested with dogs and hawks.