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  1. Day Five: Still The Raven Knows “Hvem skal synge meg i daudsvevna slynge meg når eg på Helvegen går og dei spora eg trår er kalda, så kalda Årle ell i dagars hell enn veit ravnen om eg fell” —’Helvegen’, Wardruna People expect investigations to be fast. Mayor Wilson called me in to chat about our progress. I got the sense she was nervous, from the way she was looking out the window at the slightest noise. Guess I’d be jumpy too, if people were whacking other people and getting away with it, in my village. To say nothing about the rumours of koloss, which I’d filed away in my mind keep under ‘Things That Are Not My Problem.’ Figured it was the new militia’s problem, see? Only it was hard for everyone to put the koloss out of mind completely when the militia were erecting barricades and drilling in the village square. It’s like the old saying: tell someone not to think about a mistwraith, and you bloody well bet that’s the first thing that pops up in their head. People’s minds work in strange ways. “Look,” I said, trying to be as honest and blunt as I could. I didn’t want to let her down in such a harsh way, but sometimes people expect the impossible for us. I didn’t want it. It felt like she had the expectation I could read a scene, and mystically tell her who the murderer was, and who the militia had to go nick. I didn’t want that at all. Thing is, if you have unrealistic expectations of how an investigation works, you’re bound to be pretty bloody disappointed. Sure, she was paying Kast and me to go look through the cases, try to crack them. But we owed her honesty, I felt. And if she didn’t want to retain our services, that was fine too. Kast’d get grouchy about it, but I don’t like it when clients pay us and expect something different. Wastes a lot of my time trying to talk them down, feels like. And there’s something about it that feels a little dishonest, a little like we’re no better than some of the shysters and frauds we used to rustle back in the precinct. So I usually give ‘em the talk about moderating their expectations and how we work at the start, but I figure Wilson had a lot on her mind, maybe it slipped her braincase. “Investigating takes time, Wilson. And it takes a lot of work, a lot of asking questions, a lot of probing dead ends. I’ve told you about this, before you hired us to look into Leas Fel’s death, and then the other cases that popped up along the way. We’re decently sure they’re all connected and there’s a criminal group—” I left out the bit about how Kast and I’d been referring to them as the Spiked, didn’t want to get her over-excited, now, much less to derail things with talk of Hemalurgy and all that sort of stuff. Kast was the one you wanted for that, really. “—a sort of cult that commits ritualistic murders with spikes. Tesse Mourn confessed to providing them with spikes, but—” “And you didn’t bring her in?” demanded Wilson, incredulously. I stared flatly at her. “Mourn was used, and as likely to be whacked to silence her,” I told her. We’d both been dead certain about this, or we wouldn’t have let her off. “If making spikes for money were illegal because the spikes were used by a bunch of cultists to go whack other people, then a lot of knife-makers and what-have-yous in the region are going to find themselves under arrest.” Mayor Wilson could see the sense in that, I suppose, because she let the point go, however reluctantly. Wish I could’ve said the same for some of the Watch I’ve worked with. I outlined our main conclusions for her. The targeted killings were the cleanest, in my eyes. Common MO, and almost all the dead had some connection to Tesse Mourn’s shop, according to her ledger. They got their metals from her on the quiet, or they’d put in some recent job with her. All of which, in my eyes, pointed to the fact that either our killers had wanted to set Tesse Mourn up, or they’d kept her store under tight surveillance when looking for vics. Made some sense too, when I thought about it. If you want to whack Mistings for your spikes, what better way to identify your vics than to stake out a metallurgist’s shop? It interested me if any of the others had gone to Dayle Palladiel, or why they’d set their sights on Tesse Mourn instead, but I supposed it wasn’t illogical either. Palladiel can be...intense, if you’re not used to how she works. And they’d already established contact with Tesse Mourn. Why wouldn’t they kill two birds with one stone and keep her under surveillance? I’d do that, if I were them. At any rate, the cases that weren’t consistent with what we knew were Tomas, Niru, Pie Roayong, and Shard. I still hadn’t figured out whether Sara had whacked Pie Roayong or Shard, though I figured the other mysterious Coinshot must’ve done for the other one. And then our killers had seen to Thiriel, because it was that same bloody MO all over again. Sara was the other odd case. Our evidence wasn’t good, given the whole Crow had caught fire. I didn’t like that at all. Kast was stubbornly digging in his heels and claiming it was arson, which made me side-eye him. Maybe he’d gone back to the wreckage because when he came back, there was a hint of smoke about him, and he’d clammed up on me. I don’t know what was eating at him, I just didn’t like it one bit. My thoughts ran in the opposite direction: I figured someone had tried to whack Sara and then laid the fire to cover the evidence. And cover the evidence it had. Dr. Aliker hadn’t given us much to work with, except to note that she probably hadn’t died from a chest wound. Which I didn’t think was very helpful, but maybe it was just me. This did chalk her death down to a completely different MO though, so that left us back in Who-Sodding-Knows-Anyway? without much of a clue. And then there was the Rioter. The firebug. As I said, I guess it’s possible the Rioter could’ve also whacked Sara, or whacked Leas Fel and all those connected cases. Hell, I guess that would be the logical answer, but I dunno. Said before, but it don’t feel right to me. I didn’t tell the Mayor of my uncertainties, of course. Sometimes, the politicians, they misunderstand these things. So I just outlined what our current thoughts were, and what leads were were following. I knew Kast had gone to talk to Clanal, and at least we knew now that it hadn’t been someone whacking Sara out of an old grudge. We could also sweep most of the Coinshot cases off our active case desk for the moment, which I considered helpful. Thing about investigating is, you want to keep your options open, but you don’t want to drown in information overload. Being able to say that the Coinshot cases didn’t seem related to the main cluster of cases was helpful: it let us throw out dead ends and focus on what really mattered to our Spiked killings here. “Know if Leas Fel got jumpy in his last days?” I asked her, after I’d reassured her that we were doing the best we could on the murders. Wonder if that’s the drek the captain dealt with, back in Tremredare. Couldn’t have paid me enough to take that insignia, that’s for sure. Too much public talking, too much time riding a desk, and not enough solving, in my opinion. She frowned. “What do you mean?” she asked. Too quickly? “Come on now,” I said. “Easy question, don’t you think? Guy retires from garrison life, goes back to rural life in village. Only about a week before he dies, he shows up to Edgar’s—” I was grateful I’d checked this, “—and then Tesse Mourn’s shops to get his sword fixed up. You don’t do that unless you’ve got reason to think someone’s about to whack you.” I was getting to her. I could feel it. Her eyes darted to the side; a little unobtrusive panel in the wall, and then back at me. I pretended I didn’t notice, though. “Maybe he’d gotten into something deep,” Wilson said. “There’s a lot of gambling in Fallion’s Tears, and Leas Fel liked his gambits.” I thought she might even have been telling me the truth, there. But it wasn’t the whole truth. Call it investigator’s instincts, but I didn’t like the way Wilson was acting shifty everytime I brought Leas Fel up. Meant she was most likely connected to the cases, somehow. Thing is, I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what her angle was. But I figured I wasn’t going to get more out of her this interview. So I thanked her, and headed off to go pay a visit to another of my suspects. Maybe it was overdoing it a little, to call Philico a suspect. But the magician had a way of showing up around the village, and Wyl figured it was good to interview him, to see if he had seen anything that might’ve been overlooked. According to Kast’s list, Philico had been lurking in the vicinity of the Steel Crow the night of the fire, which meant that he was immediately in the pool of persons of interest. He found Philico standing by himself at a side-street. Took him a couple of hours wandering the streets of Fallion’s Tears, but there you had it. Wyl had learned the value of persistence from years in Tremredare, and eventually, he saw the familiar silhouette of the magician, distorted eerily by the gathering night mists. “Waiting for someone?” Wyl asked. Sometimes, it was best to just get directly into things. Philico started. It seemed he had in fact been waiting for someone, and the disappointment faded from his features and was replaced almost immediately by wariness and then polite interest. “Ah. The investigator.” “Sharpe. Wyl Sharpe. I don’t think we’ve yet met.” “Not directly, no. I’m Philico, a magician. Greatest traveling show this side of the river, you may have heard of me.” Which meant, in Wyl’s book, he was several steps and a little bit of ethics removed from the shysters and frauds and pickpockets that worked festivals and fairs in Tremredare. “Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure, no.” “Ah. Unfortunate.” Wyl took the initiative. “I’ve been meaning to ask you some questions, actually. I’ve been looking into the recent string of murders in this village.” “And you think it might be me?” Philico spread his hands out, and a card materialised between the fingers of his left hand. He flicked it up in the air, and suddenly plucked it out from behind his ear. “I’m a magician. I’ve stopped in your village for a time, and I’m not interested in your intrigues or murders.” “What’ve you been looking for, then?” Philico looked at him severely. “As any good entertainer does, a good audience. I must say you’re not the coldest crowd I’ve had to work, at least.” “Probably not,” Wyl said. “Did a bit of stage magic in my misspent youth, actually.” It was a story he didn’t really want to go into, though looking at Philico was almost as though he was looking into a distorted mirror, bringing about a sudden, intense wave of deja vu. Now Philico’s smile turned a fraction warmer. “Ah, a fellow entertainer.” He made the card and a ball disappear. “No harder audience than performing to one of our profession, really.” “It was a misspent youth,” Wyl said. “I’m just a busybody now. I stick my nose into things and ask all sorts of questions.” “I’ve answered them, I think.” “So you have,” Wyl agreed. “What were you doing in the vicinity of the Steel Crow last night?” Philico answered, without hesitation, “I told a child a story, and he was supposed to come back tonight to listen to it. You know the old trick?” “What is it?” “The best stories,” Philico said, “Never have an ending. You make your own ending. That’s how you make the story live and sing and dance in the listener’s heart.” “Right,” said Wyl, “And the child was out that late?” Philico stiffened, turning tense. “Look out!” he shouted. Wyl was already turning so the blow fell on his shoulder instead. Reflexively, he turned, seeking to throw his attacker, but something heavy went down on his head. Textbook nap tap, he thought, the way they taught you to deliver it at the academy in Tremredare. The next thing he knew, he was on the ground, and the world was blurring. Maybe that was why nothing Wyl was looking at in the next few heartbeats made any sense. Philico was dissolving. Wyl didn’t know how to describe it. One moment, Philico was there, and the next moment, his form wavered and broke apart as a wave of critters scattered all over the street, heading for—Wyl didn’t even bloody know. Something dropped over his head. It was rough, perhaps, and blocked out most of the light. Burlap sack, maybe. The world went dark. Wyrm was attacked and survived! Matrim's Dice has fled! He was a Village Smoker! PMs remain open! The Day has begun and will end on 13th March 2021 at 2300hrs SGT (GMT+8)! The Writing on the Walls of the Crow: and
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  2. Well, I guess no takers. Stick has my favour though, at any rate. And any of y'all who put in kill orders on me at Wyrm's request are definitely on my naughty list, and I'm Satan >> Turn's over, no more falling over yourselves to post. Who lives and who dies in this latest episode of CSI: Fallion's Tears? Stay tuned, and find out after the commercial break! Edit: You know, I actually meant Santa... Santa Kas .___.
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  3. lol this has probably been done before
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  4. Leshwi: Are we flirting right now? Kaladin: I AM LITERALLY STABBING YOU Leshwi: That doesn't answer my question Alternatively, Raboniel: Are we flirting right now? Navani: I AM LITERALLY STABBING YOU Raboniel: That doesn't answer my question
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  5. General Cosmere spoilers
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  6. The creator is Jorge Puerto Esteban. Go give him some love!
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  7. Hey everyone, guess what! Our very first Coppermind Commission is ready to be revealed. After our patrons voted last month to see the interior of the honorspren stronghold, Lasting Integrity, we reached out to friend of Shardcast, Connor Chamberlain. And as always, he knocked it out of the park. If you want to have a hand in our next poll, act fast. Just two days left on it! If you are already a patron, check back soon for a fun behind-the-scenes look at the creation of this piece! Thank you to all the patrons for all of your support in getting us to our $500 goal, which allows us to do awesome things like this. We hope you love it.
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  8. (Out of context white sand spoilers?)
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  9. Plink. Plink. Plink. Derrick sat still, plinking-ing Roko's bead against a table. A rather charred table, in fact. The remnants of Sara's tavern had been condemned, but that didn't mean too much for Derrick. It was a place to stay, spend the night without Arenta breathing down his neck. Without anyone breathing down his neck, as a matter of fact. Without anyone breathing on any part of him. He also found it fit the mood. Plink. Roko had said not to apologize. Derrick wasn't sure if he wanted to. Or, rather, he did want to. And didn't want to. Blast, this was confusing. What was wrong with him? "I am not meant to be broken," he said. He wasn't sure who to. Mostly Derrick. Perhaps he could go on a monologue for Philico's benefit... no, Philico wouldn't like what he'd done. Not at all. Explain? He could hardly explain, either... it had been an impulse. A sudden piecing together of things: the tin dust on Marll's coat, the fact that the suspicion appeared unfounded, Roko's confusing actions with brass... Derrick had thought it all fell together. Instead it had all fallen apart. Like this house and Sara's plans had. Like everything did in this rusting village. Like he was. Plink. "Roko... what is this thing. A bead of metal... not-metal... hmm." He couldn't feel anything from it, but that wasn't unusual. He didn't exactly have any detective abilities. Investigative? Seeking? Not yet, anyway. He knew where to find something to help with that... but that was a fairly bad idea. "Perhaps..." Derrick reached into the power. The Two Power. The wild Progression that lived in him. He wasn't entirely sure how it worked, as it barely seemed to need power... but nothing happened to the metal orb. Well, that was to be expected. The next was trickier. There was still no evidence of there being a good-intentioned Seeker... but if they were wandering around with their bronze on and heard a weird thrum from an empty burned out building, there would be more awkward questions come the morning. He sighed. Derrick burned nicrosil. Something happened. A shudder, something. He couldn't say what. Perhaps a fabrication. But it was the best lead he had. Best one he'd had since coming to this Preservation-Forsaken place. Roko had a mechanism here. But how to... Ah. How else. Derrick squeezed a finger. A single drop of blood gathered on the tip, from capillaries suddenly exposed to air. He plinked the bead once more, then rubbed the bead of blood on the metal. It opened. And Derrick let out a scream. Something was gripping his mind. The inside of the bead swirled with symbols. He couldn't move. No sound came from his throat, either. Had that scream been his? Or had his ears shut down? This thing... Roko was an enigma, but he was also an amalgam. It was trying to... ASSIMILATE... "Oh, I don't think so." Derrick grabbed the Lifeline. It was supposed to be used until his overseer worked out the... glitches in what could bring him back from the brink. Yank hard enough, Spiritually speaking, and his jointed spirit would flee and be reborn. Or something like that. He could never quite... remember... but that wasn't important now. Escaping - no, solving - Roko's last question. But he had an idea for that. Just had to make sure... He held the Lifeline and burned nicrosil. Boosting the thing tethering his very soul. Feeling it wrap around Derrick, and Derrick, and... Derrick?... and hold them all tight. Feeling the force meant to preserve bend to... progress. Derrick felt something be born, then fall away almost at the same time. He collapsed on top of the table, watching the swirling symbols... Aions... slowly come to a stop. They had what they wanted. They had wanted Derrick. He could sense his voice within the thing... others as well. A voice of Aions - no, Derrick, Aons - almost coming together to replicate his personality? Derrick was still Derrick, that was for sure. Both halves. Over would be quite disappointed if that were not the case... but he could correct it. Meanwhile, Roko would not be coming to gather his item for some time now... Time to do some experimenting of his own. "Has anyone noticed that Derrick's only around at Night? Like, Night Night? Sleep Tight? No? Just Derrick? Well... Derrick has noticed. Isn't the most happy about it either. Well, Derrick sleeps now. Will be back, maybe."
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  10. The Ideal of Law is an Oath of consistency. It doesn't invalidate previous Oaths. Rather, in concert with previous Oaths, it solidifies the Skybreaker as an embodiment of a constant set of Ideals (actually, the consistency of these Laws are in dispute as it's possible that the 5th Ideal Skybreaker can change them over time. I believe this caveat is along the lines of the Constitution being a "living document" that can be changed by legal precedent and Amendment to meet current needs). Previous to this Oath, the Skybreaker was "practicing" with certain modes of Law. This Ideal makes permanent a specific set of Laws that the Skybreaker will follow and enforce forever (see caveat above). To do anything that isn't consistent with the chosen set of Laws is to break the 5th Oath. Nale might be crazy, but he is forced by Oath to follow that craziness consistently. His 5th Oath gave him no choice but to join Odium's side when he interpreted that Odium's side is the righteous side, for instance. Let's put this "solidification" Ideal onto a Windrunner: Life before death, etc. I will protect something ("...those who cannot protect themselves" were the words spoken by both Kaladin and Lopen, but Lopen was copying what Kaladin said the Oath was. It's possible others may choose a different set of people to protect) I will protect even those I was excluding when I spoke the second Oath. ("I will protect even those I hate, so long as it is right." by Kaladin (Kaladin excluded those he hated from the 2nd Oath), "I will protect those I hate. Even...even if the one I hate most is... myself." by Teft (Teft excluded himself from protection in the 2nd Oath), "I've got to protect people, you know? Even from myself." by Lopen (Lopen excluded protecting those he hurt with his words). I will accept my failures (Kaladin was the only one we've seen, and he needed to accept those who he couldn't protect. Others may have some other failure or hangup caused by the 2nd and 3rd Oaths that will lead to a different target for this Ideal. Teft, for instance, may have needed to forgive himself for failing himself, Lopen may need to allow himself to joke around again, etc.) The 2nd Oath defines purpose. The 3rd extends that purpose beyond what was assumed when the 2nd was spoken. The 4th is a pressure relief valve, solving an inevitable issue that arises with the 2nd and 3rd Ideals. The journey is obviously one meant to create a constant, functional protector. What is missing to "solidify" that journey? Something simple but all encompassing. Something that anchors the previous 4 Ideals without invalidating them. I don't have a good answer, but there's some setup for someone else.
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  11. That survival is pretty sus...
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  12. Are we allowed to list Wyrm three times?
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  13. "To denounce the evils of truth and love"
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  14. Nicolae hiccuped drunkenly. Maybe he shouldn't have drank the whole bottle... Oh, well. Wouldn't be the first time. He sighed, twirling a lock of his hair with his spindly fingers, casting his eyes about the room. Hadn't he been worried before? He couldn't remember why, for the life of him. Must not be important then. He chuckled to himself and got up to his feet, hiccuping again."'Ey!" Nicolae called to a young noblewoman. "Why we standin' around, huh? It's a ball, ain't it?" The lady - wary of and slightly disgusted by the drunk serving boy - scowled. "It's a lockdown, simpleton. If you weren't so drunk you'd know that. Go harass someone on your level." "On me level, miss?" Nicolae grinned. "I'd be guessin' that'd a-be rather hard; I've yet to meet someone taller than me, miss, and I'm not sure there's a woman on earth this height. You's small creatures, you is." Nicolae was met with a hissing scoff. The woman turned on her heels and stormed away. "Aww, now c'mon, miss, I ain't even asked ya to dance!" He moved to walk after her, but she chucked her fan at him. Whether it was her good aim, Nicolae's drunkeness, or just chance, it hit the poor servant right in the face. He rubbed his forehead. "I'll be takin' that as a no, I'd suppose..."
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  15. So, anyone down to hammer Wyrm with me before the Turn ends Just askin'.
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  16. Philico waited all night, hordelings poised for a grand show. Peter never came. Kind of concerned I'll die- if so, PLEASE get Maill's flip this time- if you still don't want to do that for some reason, Araris is also a good alternative for mechanic reasons- if there is an elim!Smoker there is a pretty good chance Araris is evil.
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  17. @not me typing up a letter for my gf at 1:04 in the morning
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  18. He was killed by nightblood so I think we have seen the last of him No CS no return bye bye Rayse
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  19. Ayyy, this is my 600th post!!!
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  20. In Oathbringer, Nale had a discussion with Szeth about following the law of the land. They determined that since the Singers were the first settlers of Roshar, that the law of the land would be the law of the Singers, and therefore, the law of Odium. Recently, at the end of Rhythm of War, Leshwi, along with Venli and several Singers and Heavenly Ones, split from the rest of the Singers and Fused and escaped. So that presents a question: Does Nale know of these events? If so, would the law that should be followed be the law of Leshwi's faction or the law of the Fused?
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  21. It's a Pineider Avatar UR in Neptune Blue!
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  22. New ink day! Sailor's discontinued their Jentle line of inks, so I grabbed a bottle of Sky High before they were sold out. I'm glad I did: it's a lovely color!
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  23. Oathbringer and Hero of Ages
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  24. Seems there hasn't been much activity on this thread in a little while, but I had something to add and didn't want to start a new one when there's one already discussing this topic of Dalinar speaking in small caps. As @joesleepsalot mentioned in the original post, we see Dalinar speak in small caps in Chapter 107, just before Uniting Kaladin. And he does it again when accepting Kal's fourth oath in 108. But I think he does it once before this too. In RoW Chapter 71, Dalinar asks the Stormfather to show him Urithiru, and the Stormfather allows Dalinar to ride the storm with him. While en route to Urithiru, Dalinar asks the Stormfather to have mercy, and temper the fury of the storm for a couple of foragers caught in the storm. The Stormfather gives his favorite excuse - I am a storm - and refuses Dalinar's request. Dalinar is not pleased and I think this is the first time we seem him speak in small caps: Later in the same chapter, Dalinar forces his way back from the stormwall into the middle of the storm to get another look at Urithiru because the first look was too short. He sees Kaladin spidermanning outside Urithiru. Dalinar tries speaking to Kaladin in his own voice, but Kal doesn't seem to hear him. So he tries another tactic: He can draw power from the soul of the storm!? I definitely missed that on my first read through. Anyway, Dalinar swoops Kal up onto the balcony when he falls, and shortly thereafter exits the stormriding vision. The scribe who was writing down Dalinar's words during the episode hadn't heard the parts where Dalinar had "spoken as the storm." It's worth noting, I think, that Dalinar does a similar sort of drawing-on-power just before the passage from RoW 107 that was part of the original post: I'm working on my own post dedicated to discussing the "warmth" that Dalinar feels, so I don't want to go too far down that road here. But I think it's interesting that just before speaking in small caps and doing cool Bondsmithy things, he seems to either draw on some power related to the warmth, or gets some sort of message or idea from the warmth. More generally I'm curious whether anyone knows of any good pre-RoW threads talking about the different fonts used when the Stormfather speaks. Has anyone been able to tease out any answers as to what tit means when he speaks in different fonts? I recall that back OB 31, when Kaladin rode the storm and similarly asked the Stormfather to spare some people in the path of a high storm, the Stormfather chided him for making demands of the storm. He then describes himself as "the memory of a god, the fragment that remains. The soul of a storm and the mind of eternity." Perhaps the different fonts relate to these different aspects of the Stormfather?
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  25. Another frequently used term in the FTL domain is "ansible" - some form of faster than light speed communication (not travel), like what we see with seons and spanreeds so far in the Cosmere. Where two-way communication is perceived as instantaneous on both sides, regardless of the physical distance between them. The term was invented in a fictional SF work by Ursula K. Le Guin in the 1960s, later "borrowed" or used in tribute in other authors' SF or fantasy works (notably by Orson Scott Card in his massively popular novel Ender's Game from the mid-1980s, and an even earlier shorter form of that story in the 1970s), and has been used by Brandon in various WoBs as well without explanation. It's a commonly used term in F/SF writer/fandom space. I don't think he's used the term directly in the Skyward series, but as a concept it exists there too. In fact, someone recently asked Brandon how he'd feel if his own invented terms "fabrial" to mean "magically powered technology", and "artifabrian" as a "magical engineer", were to catch on the way "ansible" has, to become a core term in fantasy writing. He'd love it, of course! It'd be like having a unit named after you as a physicist or chemist :).
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  26. This sounds a lot like when Moash and Graves tried to kill Elhokar, deeming him unworthy of protection and life. I’m not sure that would be an ideal.
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  27. Player List: Rule Clarifications:
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  28. Nightblood would eat the conduit and destroy it so not really
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  29. My take is that between how badly Ati's identity had been warped by the power of Ruin, and how disorienting it was to fall from that power to a CS, he wasn't very coherent compared to say The Lord Ruler. I would try to compare this and Leras's frayed state to Rayse just before he was killed to try to determine if it is likely Rayse's CS was in a weakend state causing it to not hold out, or if Rayse had a strong sense of self that would have endured after getting killed, but I think @Bejardin1250 nailed it. So I'm pretty sure Nightblood "ate" Rayse's CS making the exercise moot.
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  30. Leras sacrificed his cognitive aspect for Ati’s prison. So things were weird there.
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  32. Anybody Else here like LRR?
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  33. I would like to formally apologize to all of the things I’ve been neglecting, my SE games and numerous RPs I’ve joined. (JttC, TA, FotT:ST, etc.) Life hasn’t been all that great lately, and it’s been hard to find the motivation to anything, even things that are supposed to be fun like games and RP. So yeah, sorry to anyone who I’ve been inconsiderate to, I’ll try harder to not fall off the face of the earth. Gnight
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  34. Radiant in ch20: "harmony meant the ability to function." Sazed: *sweats nervously*
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  35. The purpose of this topic is to project the most extreme abilities of any investiture in the cosmere based on the currently referenceable material. Ideas which can be logically defended are welcome regardless how outrageous. As promised a coinshot laser would likely be produced by a Steel twinborn compounder after the discovery of heavy metals and at least some experiments in nuclear science on Scadrial. This individual would likely be able to detonate nuclear explosions using metal pushing and heavy metals and would need the speed of a steelrunner to avoid serious injury. Using metal pushing they could likely push small particles of radioacive metal forming a type of laser or electromagnetic particle beam at high velocity. Due to a strong spiritual affinity with steel because of being a steel twin it might be possible that they could store steel pushes and speed in a metal mind for use feruchemically yielding steel pushes and speed to exceed duralumin assisted allomancy. The nuclear particle beam could be used on its own or in concert with radioactive spheres in battle situations to inflict massive damage. The nuclear laser could be used to split atoms in a plutonium, uranium or like metal to create atomic or nuclear explosions. Due to the ability to create steel bubbles they could also probably shield themselves from the radiation of nuclear material on or near them. With fine enough control they could also perform nuclear laser surgery. They could be outfitted in steel biomechanical armor that could act as a metal mind for both their allomantic and feruchemical abilities. What do you think of this idea or what extreme use of investiture do you envision?
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  36. I have cracked the code. All along the clues were there. What does KoW stand for? Nothing. The title of the fifth book will be called Kow.
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  37. Just a quick note, Brandon has said that Era 2 is as weak as the dilution of Metalborn powers will get.
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  38. I enjoyed it quite thoroughly. It gives me Avatar vibes (obviously), but it doesn't feel like an Avatar rip-off. By the end of season 2, I feel like they're taking the show in a sufficiently unique direction with a TON of potential. Also it's bingeable, and who doesn't like binge-watching?
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  39. Yes, Samuel Jackson would make an excellent Sazed. "I'm sick of these mother******' ashmounts on this mother******' planet!"
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