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Day 0 - Interlude: Prelude for the Straying Stars “Well, some nights I wish that this all would end ‘Cause I could use some friends for a change [...] But I still wake up, I still see your ghost Oh Lord, I’m still not sure what I stand for, oh.” —’Some Nights’, Fun Fallion’s Tears turned on Kast. Perhaps he should have seen it coming. After all, he seemed to know something about the spikes. And one of them had read a novel where one of the detectives was the murderer, and if evil lurked beneath the tired and worn faces of the private investigators, it was surely the surly and bitter Kast Spiers, rather than the charismatic Wyl Sharpe… “Right,” said Wurum. “I’m going to have to stop you right there.” Khas sighed. “Are you storming serious?” he wanted to know. “You wanted a story. I was, mind, under absolutely no obligation to entertain you, but I obliged out of the goodness of my heart—” Wurum held up one finger. “It’s a bad story,” he said, bluntly. And then he held up a second. “I’m not interested in entertaining your martyr complex again.” “It’s my story,” Khas replied. “You asked for a story. You didn’t specify exactly what kind of story you wanted. I wanted something a little dark, a tale of murders in a rural Scadrian village. You said that was fine with you, and now you’ve got exactly what you asked for. I can’t see what reason you could possibly have to object to this.” Wurum stared judgementally at Khas from across the battered table. “I can see every possible reason to object to this. I’ve sampled a broad selection of Alethi literature, and I don’t think I’ve heard anything as appallingly bad before. The private investigators are obviously a thinly-veiled attempt at self-insertion, a hallmark of bad writing if I’ve ever heard one.” Khas dismissed that with a wave of his hand. “Ah yes, your heretical reading pursuits. You ever get worried you’d be strung up if someone caught you actually reading?” Wurum raised an eyebrow. “If anyone ever finds me reading in the safehouse, I’ll have bigger problems than whether reading is the proper pursuit for an Alethi male. In other words, no.” “You’ve got a point there,” Khas admitted. “Don’t I always?” “But,” Khas continued, “What I was really saying was that your pursuit of trashy detective novellas, a couple of adventure books, that forty-book Saucerworld series, and garnishing that selection with a half-hearted read of the Way of Kings is pretty damned heretical, if you ask me.” “No one asked for your opinion.” Khas grinned. “I know. I offer it freely regardless. It’s part of my charm.” “It’s...something,” Wurum said. He sighed and pushed half-heartedly at the assortment of papers on the table. “You still haven’t learned to clean up properly.” Khas shrugged. “I have a lot of side projects,” he said, unrepentant. “I’m currently working on a short paper for submission to Silverlight. Applying Menzi’s ethical framework to the practical problems of working as a Ghostblood operative—” Wurum stared at him, aghast. “You can’t possibly publish that!” he hissed. “Your superior will—” “Gotcha,” Khas smirked. “Had you going there for a bit, didn’t I? No, I understand opsec. Probably a little better than you, even, what with that one time you revealed yourself in a Scadrian village on the first night.” Wurum sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt the beginnings of a headache coming on. “Fine. Get back to your story.” The villagers of Fallion’s Tears turned among themselves. The killer—or killers, as it were—clearly lurked among them, but who could it be? Dr. Aliker turned on Lasalen, the alchemist who had procured far too many ducks than was reasonable for a sane person. After all, what manner of reasonable person would wrangle so many ducks? Clearly, only such a depraved individual would be capable of the horrific murders of Leas Fel and Bartholomew. Meanwhile, Lasalen had quickly stepped up to accuse Dr. Aliker in return. Where had he gotten his medical credentials? Why would a doctor even retire to Fallion’s Tears, if not to hide some dark secrets—perhaps even to practice murder? The cobbler, Marll joined in. According to him, Dr. Aliker was suspicious for jumping so swiftly to accuse Lasalen. Perhaps Dr. Aliker knew more than he was letting on? It was at that point that calamity struck. A seemingly ordinary villager who went by the peculiar name of Obliteration decided for reasons unfathomable to all that evil lurked in the heart of the surly and bitter Kast Speirs. Probably read too many detective novels, like the trashy Scadrian murder-at-a-mansion paperback, Death Comes At The End where the narrator was the killer after all. Of course, his partner, Wyl Sharpe, might have been considered guilty, but Wyl was charismatic, and suspicion seemed to slide off him like water off a duck— “It takes skill,” Wurum interjected. “Well, that and a basic understanding of human psychology.” Khas let out an irritated sigh. “I thought you had decided to let me tell my story?” he asked, pointedly. “I’m regretting it.” “Not as much as I’m regretting letting you in,” said Khas. “You barge into my safehouse, demand to be entertained, and tell me you left your last posting because you were bored—” “Ah, and your story is most certainly not sufficiently entertaining. Check and mate.” Khas’s eyebrows drew together in a frown. “I could tell you that a Shardblade duel broke out,” he said, ominously. “That Kast summoned a Shardblade and fought his way free of the gathered mob, just like in those trashy Blanch novels you used to follow.” “A Shardblade? In a Scadrian murder tale? I think you’re godmodding here. That’s way too overpowered.” “You like Shardblade duels, as I recall. Eighty Splendid Suns was full of them.” “Yes, and it isn’t exactly what I’d consider a prime example of Selish literature,” Wurum retorted. “Your point, being?” Khas heaved a long-suffering sigh. “After imposing yourself on me, and demanding a story, the very least you could do is to hear me out.” “Very well,” Wurum conceded. “Carry on with your tale, then.” Once Obliteration had decided that Kast must be the murderer who was merely pretending to investigate the killings, other voices soon joined in. The storyteller, Variel, recalled that he’d seen Kast at the scene of the crime a few days ago. The fact that Kast was supposed to be investigating Leas Fel’s death seemed to have conveniently eluded him. Perhaps because they’d gone entirely quackers, Lasalen joined in, insisting that if they rid themselves of Kast, there would be no investigation and therefore no more murders. One had to believe Lasalen had a weak grasp of the concept of causation— “What are you storming doing?” Khas snapped. Wurum had been peeling an orange, but at that point, he’d simply lobbed it straight at Khas. Fortunately, Khas’s reflexes saved him, as he snatched it out of the air before impact. “Common decency,” Wurum said, with a shrug. “That pun was awful. Did you know that in Natanatan of old, they used to lob rotten fruit at performers who were doing a seriously sloppy job? No? Well, consider that your free fact of the day.” “You make worse ones,” Khas sneered. “I’m confiscating your orange.” “But what will I throw at you then, if not an orange?” “You’ll figure something out, I’m sure,” Khas said, with a long-suffering sigh. He set down the orange, and Wurum promptly snagged it, even as Khas rescued his papers and shuffled them hurriedly into a stack before harm could come to them. “For the last time, Wurum. Listen to the damned story or get out of my safehouse.” “Fine. When you put it that way…” “I most certainly do. Are you going to behave yourself?” “Under objection and under duress, certainly.” “Well, then.” Nevertheless, others joined in. Roko the Basilisk, who was gazing at a photograph. No, Wurum, don’t you bloody dare. Something about the photograph told Roko that Kast was most likely the villain blighting the benighted village of Fallion’s Tears. Illwei though, hesitated. Was there something suspicious about Obliteration’s insistence that Kast was evil? (The answer, obviously, was yes.) A random bystander joined in, and voiced suspicion of Obliteration. Who would even bear such a name? Clearly, no one with good intentions. Niru, the village’s resident ash watcher took his eyes off Bartholomew’s ashes and the most suspicious ‘Derrick’ who very certainly did not have literal skeletons in his closet to mention half-heartedly that he had no idea what was going on but probably Variel the Storyteller was suspicious. No one had the faintest idea why. As Kast tried to interject and bring some semblance of order and common sense to the mess, Wyl simply stood there and whistled. It was as though he had not a care in the world, especially for the welfare of his business partner— “What is it now,” Khas sighed. “I didn’t say anything,” said Wurum, serenely. “You were thinking it. I know you were. Out with it.” “What if I don’t want to say what I’m thinking anymore? I’m a sensitive person, and you’ve been silencing me so strenuously.” “You expect me to take that seriously?” “Yes?” It was Khas who cracked first. It usually was. “Fine,” he sighed. “I’m sorry for shushing you so aggressively. Please share with the class, Wurum. What exactly is on your mind?” “Have you tried seeing anyone for that PTSD of yours?” Khas blinked. “I have talked with El a couple of times, but I think I’m making good progress?” “I mean, it’s obvious to me that you’re still holding on to a great deal of repressed trauma from those riots on Kholinar, Khas. I don’t think that’s very healthy, frankly.” “It is not trauma, it’s a healthy distrust of you and your motives!” Wurum clucked his tongue disapprovingly. “Exactly. Since when have I had anything except your best interests at heart?” “Pretty sure shooting me with an arrow from a storming Grandbow doesn’t count,” Khas snapped. “Nor does stabbing me five times and leaving me for dead.” “Ah, but I’m on your side now, and you’re not dead, so clearly it worked out for the better. Aren’t you happy? Didn’t I promote your best interests after all?” “God, I hate you.” “The retort of a man who knows he can’t argue with logic,” said Wurum. The last straw was when Tesse Mourn, resident metallurgist, voiced her suspicions of Kast. He’d come to her store to purchase metals a few times, after all, and something about that was innately suspicious. The villagers advanced on Kast, and he most certainly did not pull out a Shardblade. He attempted to defend himself, of course. He wasn’t reckless, and he wasn’t out of his mind. But his reasoned words fell on deaf ears. There was a powerful undercurrent of fear running through Fallion’s Tears, and now that they had determined that Kast was guilty, the villagers could not be dissuaded. He fought back. But he was getting long in the tooth, and his leg had never recovered from that night on duty in Tremredare. And Wyl did not lift a hand to help him, merely watched as they beat his erstwhile partner to death with his own walking cane. “That’s how it ends?” Wurum demanded, incredulously. Khas nodded. “That’s how it ends,” he confirmed. “God, I take it back. This isn’t a bad story, it’s outright awful. Worse than the one with the falling rocks where everyone dies. There’s no sense of plot, nothing. The villagers turn on Kast, he dies, and everything ends. Fade to black. You could’ve just told me that in a single line and saved us all the effort.” “That’s how life is sometimes, isn’t it?” Khas retorted. “Sometimes we make the wrong decision, and everything ends. We trust someone we shouldn’t have, eat the wrong orange—” Wurum’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at the orange he was pulling apart. “Yesterday, one of the recruits made a bad call and was killed by an incipient Skybreaker. Panicked, of course. But these things happen.” “Are you appealing to a tragedy in the organisation to justify your appalling storytelling skills?” “No, I’m saying that you wanted a story, and sometimes, stories are just unsatisfying. That’s just how life is. Art reflects life, and all that. In real life, sometimes the private investigator dies rather than finding out the villain. Sometimes, the innocent are killed, or arrested. Sometimes, the emperor dies of fever rather than conquers the known world, or a famous general is thrown from his Ryshadium and cracks his skull and dies and a kingdom is saved, all entirely by the caprice of chance.” “Don’t you bring your philosophy into this.” “Well, you came to me and asked for a story. If you didn’t want one that was even a little philosophical, maybe you found the wrong man.” “You know, you’ve been insufferable ever since you earned that degree at Silverlight.” “It’s called lifelong learning, Wurum. As I recall, you’re a proponent of it yourself.” “Bah,” scoffed Wurum. “You have far too much time on your hands.” “The privileges of seniority,” said Khas. “As you yourself undoubtedly are aware. So come on then. Show me how it’s done, Master Storyteller. You never did tell me about what happened on Notemos all those years ago. As I recall, we lost an entire cell in practically a week.” Wurum’s eyes narrowed. “Notemos? That entire affair? How did you come to hear of it? You were away on Silverlight finishing up your second degree, as I recall." Khas tapped the side of his nose with a finger. “Sources, old friend. I have my sources. Spill it.” Wurum stretched out his legs and reached for a carafe of water. “Very well then…” he said. “So, our story begins this way: Footsteps on the dusty floor alerted Wurum to the presence of someone else within the room…” Books (1): Danex Danex (1): Maili Experience (1): Experience Kas (5): Order, Striker, Books, Gears, Quinn Order (2): Illwei, Randby Striker (1): Ventyl Kast was a Veteran Private Investigator in Khas's story! Unfortunately, neither the Village nor the Spiked have won this game. The only winner has turned out to be Wurum Heron/Wyrmhero, for offering Khas a thorough tongue-lashing for telling a bad story! And for letting me drag him repeatedly in/into the write-up >> Thanks for playing LG74! You guys have been astonishingly energetic and fun players, and I hope to GM you all sometime again. I'll post GM thoughts on the game format sometime soon, after I finish drowning my sorrows over failing as a GM again with some alcohol.... #MR7 #neverforget #neverforgive #atonement [Lolnope get ready, don't forget your dirty secrets/skeletons, sign-ups close as announced at 2300hrs GMT+8 on Friday, and I aim to get the game up and running an hour after. See you then!]

Let's talk about The Shattering of Adonalsium. (bit of a long post, I know, but trust me). Now, we can all agree that the Shattering is A Big Deal™ by Cosmere standards, and we've all been dying to get any tidbits as to the how's and why's of such a monumental event. Storms, we barely know the where's and who's! Most we can say is it happened A Long Time ago, in Yolen, and maybe Uncle Andy went along with it? That is why whenever Hoid or Khriss or whoever makes a reference to the Shattering, we pay VERY close attention! We are desperate to know what it looked like, why it happened, how it went about, what everyone in the Cosmere felt, and a million other things. We would love nothing more than a first-hand account of Adonalsium's death. But you know what Brandon gave us instead? Not a recollection of events by a scholar, not exposition by one of the Shards, not the how's or why's or the answer to any of those questions; no, instead of telling us how it looked or sounded or came about, Brandon showed us how the Shattering felt. From Dawnshard, ch. 16: Now I don't know about you folks but to me it seems that the first ever look we get at the Shattering, the first POV from the death of Adonalsium, is in the form of emotions. Those are the emotions that Adonalsium itself felt at the moment of its death. And how amazing is that?! For such a foundational event for the entirety of the Cosmere, we don't get something "normal" like 'Hoid remembered that fatal day, when everything ended' or some "regular" storytelling like that! Any other saga based on such an event would have just released a prequel featuring the Shattering. But instead, we get to experience firsthand what the Shattering felt like. We learn not what was said, nor the details of what transpired, but the feelings of God's death from millenia ago. And that, dear Sharders ,is the most original thing Brandon has ever written. Thanks you for coming to my TED talk.

Building from the foundation @Lindel set, me and @voidlightx completed the lyrics for the Stormlight version of the first Hamilton song. It was really fun, and I'm really proud of how it turned out. We are planning on doing a full cast recording if it's possible, so if you want to join, DM me, I'm creating a discord group to coordinate everything. Spoilers through RHYTHM OF WAR. We hope you enjoyed it.

Today in the life of a dental assistant I shall use the power of my excellent Excel knowledge to count stock on every single item in the office. Not-a one shall go uncounted! Else I'll get in trouble.

I think I'm going crazy . Today in English, my teacher wrote 'I am sick at heart' on the board, and for a good minute my deluded self thought she wrote 'I am a stick at heart.' My brain was like: "well, that's actually not too far off.'

TL;DR: Siah Aimians were Honorspren that came over to the physical realm like Ishar is trying to do. That's why they are all blue and that's why Aimia was where all the ancient Fabrial's, spren turned into objects came from in the Silver Kingdoms. Axies can change his skin at will is the physical realm, this is a remnant of Spren like Syl changing her appearance in the physical realm. Axies is documenting every possible spren in the physical realm, building a family tree of sorts. Axies has been alive for a loooooong time, spren live theoretically forever. Ishar is trying to convert or "translate" Spren cognitive realm humanoid bodies into physical realm bodies. It's not going well. The Radiant spren type that lasts the longest in the physical realm are the Honorspren. Ishar is insane, but he is not ignorant. He thinks this can be done and he's had some success with Honorspren. I was chatting with @HoidvsVoid about the origins of all the different varieties of humanoids. Some were native like the Singers others came from Ashyn others came from other systems in the cosmere (Iriali) and others are a result of interbreeding between these humanoids. The Siah Aimians (the blue guys like Axies) we don't know a lot about. The Dysian Aimians (Seepless) came from somewhere else, but we don't know much about the blue ones. The two types are both called Aimians because they lived in the same place, but they have little in common. Then I saw a picture of Axies. It's fan art, but it jogged something in me. In my head Axies was a darker blue, but that's just in my head. This color is what I would call Syl Blue or Honorspren blue. https://coppermind.net/wiki/Siah_Aimian Axies fan art vs official Dragonsteel Syl artwork hidden for size: What do we know about Aimian's? Well they were masters of ancient Fabrials, which we learned in RoW are spren transformed into physical realm objects. They were fabrial central of the Silver Kingdoms, in other words they were the "Spren turn into something in the physical realm other than a blade" central. What else do we know about Siah Aimians? Axies can change his skin at will to jot things down. We see Syl constantly change her physical realm appearance in the books. What if this is a remnant of that ability? They can't fully change shape, but they can change things within that shape at will. Axies himself has dedicated his life to seeing every spren in the physical realm and documenting them. Building a family tree kind of. Regardless, this reinforces the Siah Aimian - Spren connection. Axies has been alive a looooooooong time. Spren don't have a natural lifespan, although we do know they can be killed under certain circumstances. Axies wasn't wearing any clothes in his interlude. He comments that this happens a lot, he gets robbed or otherwise loses all his possessions. It's funny, but it could also link back to how spren don't have clothes in the cognitive or physical realm they just change part of their body to look like clothes. Wearing clothes doesn't come naturally to a spren, you'd think Axies would adjust after thousands of years, but maybe it feels unnatural to him. EDIT: Credit to @some punny username on Discord. Axies shadow casts the wrong way which we know is a thing that being's close to Shadesmar do.

Technically, this should be week #8 poem 8. Last week exhaustion shut me down. Though I'm still exhausted this week I will hit my mark of two. That being said here is Week 8 poem #7. Imprisoned Anew High atop ramparts of crystal my voice flies forth with force unrelenting to all corners of the realm of mortal flesh. The daughter whom I have seen as my truest blood desires not to help me shatter the chains of my lord. My rage boils even as I lash out and bring frost and fright to the ever so fragile subjects who I ought to rule over as supreme master and king. How I wish to tear down my sovereign and his jailer. The horrific and agonizing sight of the throne in the hands of a wind bag and lecher sets my teeth on edge. From where I am trapped much useless knowledge comes close and becomes my ever present companion. No plot of mine will any of my brood ever dare to share or even begin to consider possible. Cowardly souls hide away behind stone walls which tremble before the fury that I set loose. Laurels are meant to be borne by my head as is the glory that it seems is only meant for fools. What my immortal soul suffers at the hands of those who know not how or have not the will to crush underfoot the weak tears my flesh and bares my bones. Clarity as no other comes to mind driving all else from me in a rush as the most raging of waters. Vengeance that I will visit first on my own blood takes a most wonderful shape around me. Blades frozen in a void that deities learn to fear split asunder that which holds me back and I begin my hunt. Ichor is spilled and many bodies fall when my weapons take what is mine without a thought of the weakness of mercy. Aeolus and Khione bleed together and are tossed aside as my steps take me to the foot of the divine mountain. I clap my hands and tear Zues from his throne on high shaking the very cosmos as my power chills his blood until he has passed into forgotten lore. Complete is my sovereignty the moment that I bend all in subjugation at the base of my throne. Upon my brow is kingship and true power is mine at long last. Visions of all who would stand against me guard me and keep sleep and peace from ever again resting upon my spirit. Though I am Boreas lord of all that the North winds touch I wonder why I have taken new heavier poisoned shackles for myself?

I made a poster of all the characters from my Stormlight TTRPG I wanted to share. A few caveats: There may be some light spoilers through Oathbringer, and Mistborn era 1 (Just what you'd learn from reading the first chapter of Alloy of Law) The RPG is set in Jah Keved around the beginning of Words of Radiance Most of the art is not mine, I made the avatars using https://reroll.co which is a great tool. I drew some details like the spren myself using aseprite. We are using Fate Core for our RPG. We've published our Stormlight Archive rules supplement if you are interested. My character is Keten, the Elsecaller Ardent.

I think flour is a permanent part of my wardrobe now

The Epigraphs of Part 5 of RoW are all from the perspective of El, a Fused who I am already happy to be freaking scared of for Book 5. Rereading them all, I noticed a couple of things that make me really concerned for how the challenge will end up. His thoughts are spread over 19 chapters, but it isn't anything he himself actually says that set me off. It's the notation at the bottom of each. "Musings of El, on the first of the Final Ten Days." History is written by the victors. These are obviously thoughts collected by a historian AFTER the Challenge, calling the ten days agreed upon, the Final Ten Days. This in itself isn't concerning, an Alethi scholar could call it that just as easily. But the attribution is simply to El. Not, "Odium's General," not, "Ancient Fused," not "El, defeated at the Battle of Ral Ellorim" or whatever. Just. El. And just his idle musings. El has his rhythms and title removed, and he is well-known for this in Fused society. Titles are very important and used as honorifics regularly. NOT having a title would be glaring, and just as telling, and it stands to reason that Singers would note El as simply El, because that is what he is, and all THEY need to know. El, the titleless, who is ubiquitous for a very good, likely very depressing reason. Usually, a winning force wouldn't carefully collect the idle musings of an enemy combatant on the nature and virtues of subjugating humanity, but a Singer historian, recording the Final Ten Days of the war they'd been forced to fight for thousands of years? Yeah, that could happen. Dalinar will lose. Odium Reins.

Wellllllll....... I just realized that today is my Shardiversiry. Or however you spell that word. And it's kind of late and I don't feel like writing out a super long thing about it. I just want to thank everyone (No, I'm not going to list a bunch of people -- I'm too scared I'll miss someone) on the Shard that have just been themselves (AMAZING!!!) and made my life so much better. I'm not sure where I would be without the shard, but I do know that it would be worse then where I am now. So, thank you all for a wonderful year, and I look forward to enjoy many more in the future!

As @Mailliw73 said, there's white text in the "Day 0" post confirming I'm just trolling and the game is scheduled to begin an hour after rollover tomorrow. Voting on the GM is a time-honoured tradition and each GM responds in different ways. But the key is to offer some response as it generally gets boring if your GM completely ignores your vote If this happens during the game proper, can't guarantee as fun a response

Hello! This is my first proper post on the Forums, so feel free to roast me and my theories! I am going to include some Realmatics basics, just in case someone wanders on this post specifically looking for context. Ever since finishing Oathbringer, I have been obsessed with figuring out what Unity is, much like everyone else who read it. It's completely possible this has been talked about before, and if so, I'd appreciate a link to the thread! I believe that Dalinar is unintentionally reforming the 4 "deceased" shards: Dominion, Devotion, Honor, and Ambition. I built this theory on 3 distinct building blocks. Rayse's Freudian slip in the OB Finale, Harmony's suspicions that he is being kept in the dark, and what I consider to be an implied mechanic of the Spiritual Realm. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ First and foremost, my basic understanding of the realms and how distance correlates between them is based entirely on perception. The Physical Realm is the largest in terms of space, planets separated by vast swathes of space. The Cognitive Realm is significantly smaller, as things that originate in the Cognitive Realm are born from perception. As there is no consciousness or matter to perceive, space is not rendered and borders are determined by where in physical space those groups of physical consciousness exist. I.E, The Expanse of Vapors borders the Rosharan Shadesmar, therefore the planet of Scadrial has a direct route through physical space where no other consciousness exists. There are a few side effects that make that particular relationship REALLY spicy. The Spiritual Realm, existing outside of Time/Space, is even smaller. All that is contained within it exists in one singular point. When Dalinar opens the perpendicularity, he releases not only a flood of Honors investiture due to the physical location of Roshar, he began to reform the splinters and unclaimed powers within using the powers of an unrestricted Bondsmith. ** Dalinar has a distinct connection to all 4 shards in question. He is the King of Urithiru, a position he turmoiled over in Alethkar and ultimately resulted in the death of Elhokar and the occupation of his country, linking him to Dominion. In the face of the Voren clergy, he has defended his newfound Devotion despite a lifetime of Voren piety. He strives in all things to be closer to Honor, to embody it truly, by refusing to allow his failures to define him. His Ambition, abandoned in the name of honor to secure his brothers rule at the cost of everything the Blackthorn truly wanted. These factors make him an IDEAL Vessel, as* he is intimately familiar with all 4 intents and has proven mastery over their influence within him. *Edit* I don't think Dalinar is going to become a Vessel, poor choice of words. Rather, I think he is un-splintering them on accident. The combination of Honors seed to unite, his lack of awareness in regard to shards other then the Rosharan trio, and his relationship to those shards intents makes the perfect recipe for some wild Bondsmith evolution. ** Edit ** D&Ds Investiture is crammed into the Cognitive Realm on Sel by Rayse. However, I find it likely there are Spiritual remnant of those shards accessible by Dalinar. I also don't believe that Investiture will forever stay in the Cognitive Realm, due to the innate investiture leakage between realms that causes events like the filling of the Well Of Ascension. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Secondly, Rayse's response to Dalinar proclaiming himself Unity is WEIRD. WE killed you. The only instance of a shard being killed by a WE is Dominion & Devotion VS Odium & Autonomy.* *Edit*(If Mercy is a traitor, this could also be Ambition. That would leave Sels shards uninvolved and Unity would be Dalinars Intent while channeling Ambition and Honor together.) The death of Ambition is still somewhat mysterious, and mostly depends on Mercy's disposition. I'm liable to think Mercy is a traitor. We know Rayse went after Ambition specifically, defeating Dominion and Devotion in his hunt. If he was threatened by Ambitions intent, I believe it is a logical assumption that Ambition, by the nature of its shard, would inevitably try to bring the shards together to remake Adonalsium. This would be the ultimate expression of Ambition, as Adonalsium is the single most prolific being known to the Cosmere at this moment. Unity is not a DawnShard, nor a combination of a few shards, it is the combination of all 4 shards Odium has defeated combined with Dalinars impeccable Soul-engrained love of all things Honorable. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ And finally, Harmony believes the other shards are withholding information from him. This is the weakest of my branches, but I still believe it holds strong. A compound Shard is new to the Cosmere, but it must be assumed they have the potential to be wildly strong. However, the combination of shards can result in wildly different shards depending on the Intent of the Vessel. With Sazed, we found Harmony. With Dalinar, Unity. When Sazed, the relatively gentle and peaceful Terrisman is given divinity, it resulted in a relatively gentle and peaceful god. When Dalinar, the man whos sole purpose for several books was to unite the world in preparation for war on a mission from god, is given divinity, he will become something incredible. (Incredibly dangerous as well) The only thing MOST of the shards have to gain from withholding information from Sazed is their own power, so rather then assist Sazed in understanding his power, they ignore or disinform him while slowly working to ensure he cannot channel his power in an effective way. Dalinar would not have this redundant intent, making him a very scary force for someone like Rayse and Odium. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ All in all, I'm fairly convinced Dalinar is reforging the shards splintered in the Spiritual Realm, likely to be taken up by others in his stead. ( I seriously predict Dalinar will die in the next book) By having a Connection with the core Intent of the 4 shards, and the power that comes in not knowing what a Bondsmith is capable of, Dalinar is accidentally fixing a massive chunk of Adonalsiums power after his naughty Kids splintered his shards.

So you’re saying I killed Kast? Now that’s not fair.

I’m pretty sure they can already do this, it just takes a lot of stormlight to do it so it’s not always practical

The story crumbles to dust as the narrator laughs with an old friend. You laugh as well, your heart lighter for the simple joy of interaction. Never before had a Narrator so entertained the shenanigans of the Maskless Wanderers. Fallion's Tears lingers in the mist, but the path disappeared with the end of the Narrator's words. It might have been enjoyable to wander through those streets and drink of the cup from a tavern of metallic corvids, but this masterpiece of a comedy is an adequate substitute. Khas and Wurum banter, and you smile at the game that is both more and less than a game. Though Khas was not a particularly incredible storyteller, the one known as Kasimir is truly a gifted shaper of words. You hope to one day capture a fragment of his gift, though you know you will never attain it. "Tell us another," you ask, your pleading tone bleeding into longing, into hunger. "Your stories are works of art. Tell us another." You wish to hear more about Fallion's Tears, about Kast Spiers and Wyl Sharpe. Perhaps the curse will be broken. Perhaps the village will fall again. You want to know. "Tell us another," and this time your words have taken on an edge of command, though you have no right to command a First One. You want to know. You must know. "Tell us the story of Fallion's Tears." This second person piece is definitely worse than the one before, but I wanted to give our Great and Mighty Game Master a road back to the story at hand. Tell us the story of Fallion's Tears, Kasimir, brother to Wyrmhero, Philosopher-Analyst of the Inquisition, King's Wit, Good Guy Fain, Last Son of House Urbain, Keeper of King's Laws, Village Renegade, Loresinger, Namegiver, Ironborn, and Kingkiller. Regale us with your wondrous words of warm wit and wary wills.

Fleur Tieste was visibly confused. He was just in the village to chat up some lads and lasses, maybe fall in love, finally settle down in life? (heh who am I kidding, I've got loads of love to share with the world). And now the occupants had decided they want to kill the lead investigator? Hmmm, suppose some of these would be from the killer's party to stunt the investigation. No matter, he liked old Kast, and he wanted to find the killer just as bad. Who'd be in the mood for romance when the whole town is anxious, yeah? Hmmmm, might as well flex my skills a bit, it's been a while. "HEY! Ain't no one be killing this old investigator here. We need the killer found quickly. And besides, I quite like him. You could say....he's Kast a spell on me. You touch him, and I'll send you back in a Kast." Mmmm, a tad rusty. Ain't causing any ladies to swoon with this. Need to finetune these skills...

I'll admit, old friend, it's a little tempting. But it's not Ruin you're talking to, and if it's Ruin you're looking for, you'll want my bro Axl ( @Matrim's Dice) over there. I am and have always been only Kasimir. In LG5, the Village drowned in blood as they slew their brethren to get to me. They never saw me coming. Not until Wyrm stopped me, with a well-placed arrow. In MR1, they killed me three times in fear and still I lived. Wyrm had to stick the knife in twice more before I would die. I descended to the lands of the dead and rooted out every single last one of his kin, and had the living send his wretched soul to the underworld to explain himself to me and Awes. In LG6, I died through a bargain poorly-struck with Maili, rather than because my Evil was discovered. I was in their deepest circle of trust and Alv, too, claimed to me as security against Wilson and Awes. In QF2, I died early, valiantly trying to hunt the mutineers, as my bro Wyrm sought to avenge me. In MR3, I was the Forgotten everyone forgot existed, and together, Wyrm and I tirelessly rooted out every Villager and had them executed. I was the King's Wit in MR4, rallying Dalinar's loyalists against the perfidy of the spies. I tricked the spying Ser Wolf into conversation and worked out his identity. I crossed wits with Meta several times and lived to tell the tale. Meta did not. I survived every single one of the multiple attempts to slay me, that game. I was the Prophet in LG7, the Ironborn who did not protect, the one who stood between the coalition of Villagers and the Skaa we slew. I was the Speaker for Elantris in LG12, the foe of the Jeskeri, the bane of the Gyorn, Wilson's Lover, and Wyrm's Dula brother, connecting two cities sundered by the will of Hreo and Tulir. In QF6, I was the Cryptologist, and I came out swinging for Team Stephen as we executed Nightmare Aspect after Nightmare Aspect. We could not speak, so I spoke for them, and connected separate PM groups. Heedless of death, I revealed myself recklessly to Maili and Aonar in order to provide the Village with the one advantage we needed: a language. A code. A way to bridge the distance. Together, Joe and I wreaked havoc and we slaughtered the Evil ones without mercy. I was Aranmir, who hammered to save the Village. I was Tenth of the Dusk, intrepid trapper, exacting a bloodprice for the death of STINK. I was Duncan Kerr, who sought to die meaningfully, by leaving the Village with whatever help I could give them. I am Kasimir, brother to Wyrmhero, Philosopher-Analyst of the Inquisition, King's Wit, Good Guy Fain, and the Last Son of House Urbain. I am the Keeper of King's Laws, the Village Renegade, the Loresinger, the Namegiver, the Ironborn, and the Kingkiller. I am one of the last of a dying generation and when I fade into the dark, the names I bear, the memories I carry will go with me. It is not me you need to ask blessings from, old friend. I am who I am. I am what I am. Go pray to the gods of luck and chance for your boon. I will remain. For my watch has not yet ended. For I am your GM. And I have a job to do.

This is what you know: You are an ant before a council of gods. They speak of legends and fables, of days long before your time, and you know in your heart of hearts that you will never match their glory. They banter with knives and bloodshed and fangs, and what are you before them? You are new to the table, one of a vast generation that came crawling out of the broken earth to witness these people smile with mouths of shadow and lies. They forged this land from nothing, they tore it out of the cruel landscape of the void, they built an empire from ash, and you thought yourself worthy of marching alongside them. The one who guides you into the mists engages in raillery with old friends, speaking of figures from myth as though they were as close as the grave. You try to partake in the laughter, but it quickly turns into a game you cannot follow, into a dance you do not know. The mythos opens its maw to swallow you whole, and you drown beneath the weight of history, beneath all the days you never knew, all the people you'll never know, all the years they carved out without you. You could disappear, and they would never notice your absence, or if they did, it would only be as another line on a spreadsheet. You could fade into the mists, and they'd continue on without you. You are not Lore, not Legend, and in the face of Glory, you know that all dreams of Becoming were just that: dreams. You stand at the feet of giants, of titans, of gods, and you Know with bitter certainty that you are fundamentally Different, fundamentally Other from the First Ones. You are young, stumbling to your feet and running down paths that they have witnessed a thousand thousand times before. When they were as you are now, you were a child, too small to even dream of possibility. They play games while you try to survive. And you might try to stand by them, to keep pace as they stride onwards, but you have always been a follower. You hide in the corner and let them have their fun, following one or another as their pretty words sway your feeble mind. You reiterate their words with your voice, acting as their instrument. You listen and obey. Perhaps if you mimic them enough, you will become them. Perhaps if you act as they do, perhaps if you simply claw your niche into the earth they made, then perhaps they will remember you. Perhaps your work will not be wiped away by the sands of time, left as a mere footnote in the bloody tapestry of history. But no one gets remembered as a copy of someone else. Inevitably, you will be remembered in connection to another. Or perhaps you are being melancholy again, lamenting the fate that has not yet bound you. Yet here you stand, a crawling thing before dragons, waiting to be forgotten as soon as you leave. The First Ones are Eternal. The Next Generation is not. Hundreds of names in that spreadsheet, and most are relics without a mythos. They stand with blood on their knives and joy in their hearts and a smile on their lips, and you can't help but long for halcyon days, the formative days, the days when anyone could be a myth, a legend, a Story, and all it took was simply existing and being glorious. But of course, you wouldn't be a myth of eras past either. These people, these First Ones you follow as a matter of course, they existed then too. That's what defines them as First Ones. And you, ever the follower, would have marched behind them in that era as well. No matter the time or the meta or the mythos, you have always been easily swayed by insidious words and shiny things. This is not the best era, nor the worst era, but simply an era, the era you have arrived in, and despite your idle misery, you know logically that this era is a fine one. The First Ones remain to steer you away from the paths they have traversed and fallen down on. The New Generation stands by your side to run down the wild paths anyways. The future shines before you, brighter than ever, and you will be a part of that future, so long as you don't leave. Yes, there are pitfalls and dangers, but the Legion marches by your side. The tapestry weaves itself with skeins of death and bloodshed, and you have already claimed lives for its cloth. You are a part of this history, even if you will never match the shadows that the First Ones cast. You hold the knife, and the Legion stands with you. Always.

I think this is an interesting theory. It would also fit in with what Syl said about Honorspren hunting other spren in the Cognitive Realm. Axies could be doing the same thing, but more of the Rosharan equivalent of a photo safari, rather than a hunt. To take this farther, it makes me wonder about the Natans. They are human, but they have blue skin. Could they also have Spren blood at some point in their past? Maybe the Siah Aimians were the Spren that became physical, and the Natans are the result of pairings between these physical Spren and humans. Do we know if their shadows point the wrong way as well?

I'm almost done with The Way of Kings, my first time reading it! I started reading Brandon Sanderson back in sixth grade when I read The Reckoners, and then Rithmatist, but I'd never read the cosmere. So my friend, @Chasmgoat, requested a bunch of books from our library, and I have been reading a lot of Brandon Sanderson. I finished the first three Mistborn books and am also reading secret history right now! Have a nice life! - King Karl

Prediction: Kaladin doesn’t die at the end of book five and instead becomes a worldhopper who goes in search of this mysterious and adorable creature from Hoid’s latest story. By this point Syl is in the physical realm and they are completely in love, and together they adopt their forever furry friend who Syl exclaims is the grossest little creature in the entire Cosmere - so gross that it’s so storming cute she could die!! They bring a whole bunch of doggos back to Roshar to be therapy dogs for all the patients at Kaladin’s mental health clinic, working alongside Ryshadium equine therapy developed by renowned scholar Renarin. The Stormfather gets caught giving belly rubs to a little pupper with a huge grin on his face before blustering over how ridiculous such a squishy creature is on Roshar. Odium is defeated once and for all, for “hatred is dead, so long as puppies live in the hearts of men”.

In Oathbringer, we learned from Notum that Honor created the honorspren himself "many thousands of years ago." We also learned that, sometime before his death, Honor stopped making honorspren, and tasked the Stormfather with doing it instead. Now, with Syl's interlude in RoW, we get a just a little bit more detail on when true spren were created: (I note that both Notum and Syl only mention Honor when talking about the creation of true spren, but given that that all of the true spren are mixes of Honor and Cultivation, it seems likely that Cultivation had some role in their creation as well) Assuming that Syl is correct, that means that the creation of true spren likely predated the arrival of humans on Roshar. I hadn't really spent a lot of time thinking about why Honor and Cultivation created intelligent spren, but I guess before this line from Syl I had kind of assumed that their creation was tied to the arrival of humans. If that's not the case, then why were they created? I was pondering this when I came across and reread this old WOB: The lines talking about how it's dangerous to have power lying around without an entity to control it, and how it was a good thing Kelsier was around on Scadrial jumped out at me. Is it possible that, after seeing what had happened on Sel, Honor and Cultivation created intelligent spren to ensure that at least some of their power was tied to sapient cognitive entities as a safeguard in case Odium came for them? Perhaps they created true spren with an eye toward ensuring that whatever he and Cultivation did to bind Odium to Braize would continue to function? Or perhaps it was done in the hopes that it would be possible for someone to take up or reforge the Shard of Honor in the event of his Splintering? Odium flat out tells us in Oathbringer that the Splinters of Honor left behind pose a problem for him: I presume that Odium's primary concern is someone else taking up the Shard of Honor and that he sees the Splinters left behind as a possible conduit to that happening. So, maybe that was the plan - create intelligent spren to avoid a situation where you had raw Investiture rampaging like on Sel. It would explain why Tanavast wanted to pass the responsibility for creating honorspren to the Stormfather before his death. Could also be part of the meaning of the encouragement to "Unite them" in the visions he created. Interested to hear others' thoughts.

Where's all the Hamilton fans? Where're the references, the quotes, the love for Jonathan Groff and Lin Manuel Miranda? WHERE ARE YOU???

Pretty sure Hoid is. But Kell is definitely up there. He’s a fun character because he writes himself, which is always nice for an author. But I actually do think Kalak is a traitor. I’ve thought there was a traitor herald for a while and it does fit. He’s terrified of being tortured again; how better to avoid it than siding with the torturer? His people tried to return the Desolations. He claims he can’t make decisions, but manages to lead and manipulate an entire team? He knows far too much about the dagger, including information he shouldn’t have, but doesn’t know who used it? Oh, and he’s trying to get Shallan to release a very dangerous Unmade with no guarantees. He’s also the first character we’re introduced to. And he’s convinced even then that Odium will get free. The SoH have been our heroes enemies from the beginning and their actions have always involved betrayal; it makes a lot of sense to me that their boss will follow the same trend. They started the plot in many ways; I think they’re going to end it.

I am mostly shocked about Jasnah's response to Szeth's presence in Oathbringer. She loved her father and was gutted by his assassination. I don't understand how she could just be like, "Oh hey! The storming assassin in white converted to our squad! Cool!" Right now my mind is reeling. I am imagining Kaladin confronting Kalak in Shallan's presence. Kaladin to Kalak: RTT I killed a shardbearer, and you stormed up my life because of it!?! Shallan to Kaladin: RTT that shardbearer was my brother!? Kaladin to Shallan: RTT your stupid brother barrelled into my life, killing my men, scarring me for life, and kicking off a whole storm of events that scarred me for life again and again?? *Radiant civil war ensues* Enter Thaidakar: Sup? Whatseveryonefightingabout?

Rushu and the Stormfather, because she always has her head in the clouds

Well yes but it also takes them a pretty long time to reach the age they can do things at. I feel like allowing Shards to directly intervene and make more magic users is gonna mess with this too much, because then we get to "have Cultivation make an equivalent to Honorblades or something" lol. Yeah, I have zero clue where to begin estimating there. Hm, interesting point. Didn't think about that. If freeing Ba-Ado-Mishram does fix them, then yeah, that'd be a massive boost. Not actually the way it works, btw. Makes sense.

More than likely Here's how I think it stands in 1 v 1's note any significant number of foes can overcome anyone here Fullborn Bondsmith Steel Halfborn Steel compounders Very specific Halfborn: mainly gold Very specific compounders All other Knights Mistborn Mistings Note Feruchemists and Ferings will generally lose but will have moments to shine Glad you enjoy it.

Yes, yes! Or- Even better: Signup for QF51! Which only has 8 and needs more people, unlike this game (#notsponsoredyou'rewelcomearcher) Or- Even better: Signup for both

Journey before destination, friend. Plenty of people name their kids after lost heroes. I’m not saying you’re wrong or that I’m dying on this hill, of course, but naming a kid after a badass is not a guarantee of the badasses’ safety. I do see Dalinar as more plot-expendable though now that Navani is a Bondsmith that can keep their key fallback point entirely secure.

We appreciate you!!! Thank you for everything that you do!!! Looks like it is time to go revive the CHAOS APPRECIATION THREAD!!!!!!

A specific thing doesn't really come to mind when I'm making a snap , but there are a lot of more minor things I suppose. I'm a procrastinator, and it's real bad. It's always weird me teaching, because I had terrible study habits in school. 1. Letters are not colors. 2. First one is great and a classic. I liked the second one. Haven't seen the third one. 3. Pretty cool but I prefer less standard fantasy races. 4. Go to bed! 1. Letters are not colors. I don't understand what's going on with this and the last question. 2. I'm fine. Pretty busy! 3. Hugs are good, but hugs from strangers are weird. Yeah, I don't get paid. Like, the Patreon money goes to me, but I obviously distribute various things out. None of us even get paid minimum wage. Moderating is a thankless job everywhere on the internet. I find the drive because I want to be the best fansite around, and the Brandon fandom is great. Daerra was not pleased.

Lasalen woke up from a very strange dream in which they were a character in a story (now that was just silly, they were obviously real) and they, along with several others, had killed the private investigator for the strangest of reasons.That made no sense! Even though the detective could have been the murderer, he certainly wasn't the most suspicious person in the town by a wide margin.

Noooooo, I had a story all set for Fleur to follow Kast around throughout the investigation and being pesky and annoying, and the more you tried to make it a depressing noir story, the more I'd try to make it a buddy cop comedy. And then you had to go kill him -.- I guess there's still Wyl remaining. So, where there's a Wyl, there's a way? (Or is it pronounced like - he's seems too evil and Wyl for me to buddy up to him?)

Marll woke to startling news. Five of his fellow villagers had killed Kast? The investigator? What in the Lord Ruler's name had possessed them to do such a disturbing thing? Of all the people that could help the people of Fallion's Tears to find the murderer in their mist, they chose to kill the most helpful one? At least that Wyl guy was still around, but Marll had never liked him as much as Kast. What kind of storm had been brought to his home?

Hemalurgic creations, like chimeras. Also Fused entering singers’ bodies.

In RoW we learn that there were 2,000 Honorspren "killed" in the Recreance - these all became deadeye Shardblades. Even if Windrunners were the most numerous of the orders, we can estimate the total number of resulting Shardblades should be at least 10,000. In Dalinar's vision of the Recreance, I don't recall any Radiants being mentioned WITHOUT Radiant Armor, from which we might surmise a similar number of suits of Plate, although I grant it's likely significantly less. WoR tells us that Alethkar and Jah Keved each have twenty or so Blades, and that this is more than any other nation; Thaylenah has five. The sum total known (by Dalinar, anyway) on all of Roshar is on the order of one hundred. Shardplate is, of course, even less common. 100/10,000 = 1%. Apparently 99% of all Shardblades are currently unaccounted for. Are we supposed to think that literally THOUSANDS of priceless magical artifacts - 99 out of every 100 - have been lost in the 4500 years since the Recreance? This strains the credibility of human nature. And lost WHERE? Are they lying at the bottom of the ocean? Or should we expect giant secret caches of Blades (and Plate) to be discovered in Book 5? That might certainly come in handy for an army who is outgunned by magic-wielding opponents. Maybe Adolin and Shallan will crack the BAM / deadeye problem, and all those 10,000 Radiant spren will become suddenly available to bond anew. That would come in VERY handy indeed. But none of that answers the question - WHERE ARE THEY NOW?

This would definitely explain a lot and might be a way for Brandon to pull off the Kaladin and Syl ship. Sound theory. Now just need to figure out how the Curse of Kind and Fortune play into this. Maybe it's a side effect of the transfer.

My Inquisitor character glared, someone wanted to know how that worked with eyespikes, and I made the dumbest edit I've ever made. I regret nothing.

Noting the not ofing the wanting ofing the being the threatened bying the bird.

"Are Your Metal Utensils Far Too Sharp? You neighbors don't want to hear about it... but WE do! If your jam knife cuts through the jam, the bread, the plate, and the table, we're here to help. 728 Highprince Way, Merchant's District, Kharbranth. Ask for K. or N. Bring the overly sharp item."

Meta-meme?

If the Radiants didn’t summon their spren as a blade when they broke their bond, could that mean that most of the deadeyes are simply that? Deadeyes who wander around Shadsmar and aren’t a blade at all? Perhaps others exist as other objects that people are unaware are like shardblades, since we know that radiant spren can manifest as many things - shardfork, shardspear, shard medical tools, etc...?

We have some exciting news to announce. So far in order to obtain some unpublished works of Brandon's, you'd have to email him through his site, and his assistants would distribute them. Well now you won't need to wait for that, because we will be in charge of distributing Aether of Night! All you have to do is post in this topic (you'll need a 17th Shard account, but that's it), and our staff will PM you the document. You do not need to post an email address here; we will send it to you through this website. Once we do this, we'll remove your post here. We'll be using this topic as a to-do list for requests. Ideally since we have lots of staff members, we will get this out to you soon, within a week or two. We hope you're excited about this, so many of you will be able to get this text in a much more obvious way now! You will receive a .docx file, and if you need to convert it into a .pdf or .epub, there are many converters to do that for you. (We are not distributing the old prose version of White Sand; that is distributed in Brandon's newsletters.) Thank you Dragonsteel for letting 17S do this! Edit as of 2024: This is still going! We've gone through over 300 pages of replies distributing. It's just that we remove posts here once we send them out.

I mean... have you read other modern fantasy? Brandon is quite tame in comparison! Though to address your point, my main concern is that he will not do the topics justice (i.e. the religion/atheist deal.)