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  1. FaithC

    Nightwielder

    I drew inspiration from American Dad's character "The Falcon".
  2. FaithC

    Regalia

    I drew inspiration from the movie Soul
  3. FaithC

    Obliteration

    I drew inspiration from John Wick for Obliteration
  4. FaithC

    Steelheart

    This is what I imagine Steelheart would looks like. I got inspiration from the Incredibles 2 for this one.
  5. From the album: Steelheart Set Design

    This was a project I worked on! I designed a false set for an imaginary Steelheart play. This is The Reckoners’ HQ! Enjoy
  6. This thread is closed to new Epics, but is open to new non-Epic characters. If you want to join as a non-Epic, but aren't sure about how they can become involved in the plot, post your request in the latest Question thread and we'll help you. When Nathan Sperry woke with a pounding headache, blinking in the torchlight, he knew exactly where he was. Fear banished the lingering effects of the drug. Several sensations came to him all at once—a wooden table beneath him, too-thin cloth shielding his body from the chill, the taste of cloth in his mouth, the something pinning his wrists and ankles. A few frantic glances confirmed what he already knew. Thick leather straps held his wrists and ankles down. His mouth was tied with a gag. A thin white robe covered him. And the table belonged to Fortuity. The second Fortuity had signaled to him at the casino, he’d known something terrible would happen—and when he turned from his woman of the week long enough to ask his name, Nathan knew he was a dead man. There was no point in running. Not from Fortuity. Not from an Epic who would know his steps before he took them. There had been nothing to do but retreat to the kitchen and sink to the floor in a shaking heap. Nothing else but to listen as the news was bounced from server to cook to server and nod mutely as they cried and hugged him and said he’d be missed. Nathan gave his arm a tug, then another, but only succeeded in bruising his hand. The straps were tight, almost to the point of chafing, but not quite. Fortuity didn’t want any distractions. “Don’t panic. Don’t get ahead of yourself. Just take everything as it comes.” That was what his manager had said during the “What to Do if You Anger an Epic” portion of training. It wasn’t part of the official program, but she always carved out a few minutes for it. Don’t panic. Too late. Don’t get ahead of yourself. What was there to get ahead of? Just take everything as it comes. Nathan lay his head back and took a few breaths, slow and even as he could. His heart pounded—how much longer until it stopped? How long before breathing was impossible? And then what? Don’t get ahead of yourself. He had heard that severe trauma sometimes induced unconsciousness. That victims of violence occasionally—or was it often?—blacked out for the worst of it. Would that happen? Or would whatever drug he’d been given keep him aware until the end? Take each thing as it comes. The drug had worn off. Fortuity wanted him awake, and he wouldn’t risk further complications with more drugs. He would black out, and that was that. That was what he told himself, anyway. He heard a door slam shut, and his pulse quickened. His eyes smarted—but he blinked them away. He wouldn’t cry. He forced himself to listen instead. There were two voices, one Fortuity’s, and one female. He’d brought the woman back to his penthouse. Nathan tried to calculate what that meant. Did it mean more time to wait—or that his death would have an audience? Nathan thought back to the woman at the casino. She was pretty—all of Fortuity’s women were pretty—but she wasn’t dressed like most Newcago women. No flapper dress or cloche hat for her. This one had worn a dress of fluffy black tulle and knee-length silk, dyed all the colors of the rainbow and then some. A thick wool sweater, black with multicolored ribbons woven throughout, hung off the back of her chair. Her black hair had been like her eyes: sparkling, though due more to the presence of glitter than that of mischief. Not once had she stopped smiling. An Epic. She would want to watch. As if on cue, she spoke, her voice muffled by the thick wooden door. “Where’s Nathan?” Fortuity laughed, a low, growling sort of laugh that froze Nathan’s breath in his lungs. “He’s right in here, doll.” “Is that the bathroom?” Fortuity paused. “Uh—sure is. But you don’t really—“ There was a scuffle. There was a slam. There was Fortuity’s shout of anger. “And now you’re in there! See ya!” Fortuity pounded on the door. Nathan couldn’t make out his words, but he could guess. The woman giggled. “Have fun with the doorknob!” More growling—and a yelp of surprise. What did she do to the doorknob? Nathan didn’t have time to wonder. In a moment, he heard her running—no, skipping—toward the door, his door. “I’m gonna go find Na-than, I’m gonna go find Na-than,” she sang. Nathan’s mouth went dry. If he had to choose death by Fortuity or death by a giggling singer—he wasn’t sure which he’d choose, but the former seemed slightly less nightmarish. She knocked on the door. “Yoo-hoo! Nathan!” For the first time that night, Nathan was grateful for the gag. She giggled again. “Ready or not, here I come!” One more knock and the door vanished, sending a sheet of something rippling and transparent crumpling to the floor. The Epic jumped and clapped her hands. “I found you! Yay! We’re going to have so much fun!” Nathan couldn’t have said a word had he wanted to. With another small jump, she landed on what had been the door, causing a series of loud pops. Bubble wrap. She had turned the door into bubble wrap. Nathan watched as Fortuity’s date pranced over the bubble wrap in light-up socks and mismatched Converse, her giggles blending with Fortuity’s shouting and banging. Too soon, she was at his side. With another giggle, she crouched beside the table so their faces were level. She had brown eyes, very big and full of mischief. He’d rather think it mischief than malice. “Hi there. I’m Doctor Funtimes. Do you wanna join my party?” The words of his manager returned. “Always give an Epic what they want. Don’t ever tell them no—unless there’s a more powerful one standing by.” Fortuity wanted to cut him open. Doctor Funtimes wanted a party—which could very well involve the same. She had locked Fortuity in the bathroom with a malicious doorknob. Nathan nodded. Doctor Funtimes gasped, jumped in place and clapped her hands. “Yay! I love parties! I throw good parties.” Nathan watched her, frozen where he was. Any second now she would wrap her hand around that ceremonial dagger lying on a nearby pedestal and…. She snapped her fingers. The leather straps dissolved into confetti. There was still something in his mouth, but the gag was no longer pressing on his cheeks. He tasted sugar. Nathan sat up, lifted his hand, and spat out a brownie. “Try it,” Doctor Funtimes said. “They’re nummy.” Nummy? She giggled, clapping her hands again. “Let’s go find that poo-poo head! He’s fun.” Nummy? “Come on!” She pranced around the table, took his hand, and helped him off. Nathan had no time to process the sensation of walking out of his own tomb, let alone while clutching a brownie with bubble wrap popping against his bare feet. Doctor Funtimes danced onward, dragging him along until she stopped at the nearest door and knocked. “For-TU-i-ty!” she sang. “I found something!” He heard the crack of gunfire, and the cry of something dying. “You put him back where he was!” “Nah, I think I’ll keep him.” She snapped her fingers again and, to Nathan’s horror, the bathroom door became a curtain of beaded gumballs. “Look at him! Isn’t he fun?” Fortuity tore a handful of strings down when a gumball hit him in the eye and threw it on the floor, leveling his revolver at Doctor Funtimes. Nathan instinctively ducked behind her. “You listen to me,” he said, his voice soft with barely-restrained rage. “You put my penthouse back the way it was, you put him back where he was, and I’ll shoot you. I’ll just shoot you. Got it?” It was a generous offer, but Doctor Funtimes giggled. “Nah, he looks neat. Toodles!” Another gunshot tore through the air. Nathan fell to the ground, hands over his head, bracing himself for the sound of Doctor Funtimes’ body hitting the floor. Instead, she giggled. Nathan looked up and saw her holding something small and square. Two more gunshots. A crouton hit the floor. Doctor Funtimes jumped and clapped her hands. “Ooh, ooh, throw a grenade this time! I wanna make a salad!” Fortuity growled and reached into his pocket—presumably for another bullet—but he never reloaded. Doctor Funtimes snapped her fingers, and his gun became a hamster. “What the—?” He swore vilely at Doctor Funtimes, throwing the hamster. She caught it with a shocked gasp. “Fortuity!” She may as well have admonished an ill-behaved child. “We do not throw Mister Hamsterface! We hold him and pet him and love him!” She cradled the hamster in her arms to demonstrate. “But you—he—he’s a hamster!” “And he wants you to respect his life choices.” “He’s a hamster! No—he’s my gun! Give me my gun back!” She stuck out her tongue. “Give—ah!” Growling again, he drew another revolver, bringing the barrel level with Nathan’s leg. “You turn that thing back into a gun, or I’ll shoot him. Won’t kill him—oh, no. That’s for later. You’ll get to watch me take your little friend apart piece by piece.” “Nathan or Mister Hamsterface?” “Both.” A bullet clicked into place. “Now. Put the hamster on the floor, and step away.” Doctor Funtimes snapped her fingers. Fortuity’s fedora leaped from his head, growling savagely. Once on the floor, it took ahold of his cape and gave a tug much mightier than Nathan expected from a walking hat, yanking Fortuity back a step. “What the—“ He tugged back, but he was already losing ground to his hat. “This—doesn’t—even—make—sense!” Doctor Funtimes laughed. “Catch me if you can, meanieface!” She grasped Nathan’s arm, and Fortuity’s penthouse vanished. The last of the late-night traffic whipped past. Few pedestrians were out, but those that were stopped in their tracks to stare. Cold night wind cut through his white robe, pulling it taut around his legs. He danced from foot to foot on the frozen steel. “Now let’s see,” Doctor Funtimes said, her steps echoing hollowly as she walked a few paces down the sidewalk. “He parked his car right….over….aha!” More staring. An Enforcement officer spied him from across the street and frowned. Not one of Fortuity’s victims had ever escaped before, but it had to be a crime. Denying Epics what they wanted was a felony. “Doctor?” Nathan’s teeth had already begun to chatter. The officer signaled to one on their side of the street, who made his way toward them. “Hold your seahorses,” she said, and waved her hands broadly over a sleek black convertible with gleaming red leather seats. The convertible changed shape, rounding as its color lightened from black to golden brown. “Is there a problem here?” The Enforcement officer was still a good ten feet away, but he was well within firing range. Even if he wasn’t, no one could escape their radios. “There!” Doctor Funtimes skipped back to where he stood and indicated her handiwork. “Isn’t it pretty?” Fortuity’s car—his beloved convertible, the one he made all his women ooh and ah over—was now a giant metal hot dog on four wheels. Nathan didn’t know what to say. “Sir, I’m afraid we’ll have to ask you a few—“ If the officer finished his sentence, Nathan never heard it. Doctor Funtimes took his arm and, just like that, Newcago was gone.
  7. While listening to Lux, I noticed that the names of the Epics seemed to work as a metaphor or descriptor of the story itself. I posted a thread about it in the Lux spoiler board, but @Use the Falchion wondered if this applied to the other books as well. And so, like the Sanderson nerd I am, I went back through the original trilogy and listed every Epic mentioned. I've only finished Steelheart so far, so I'll start with those Epics, but I'll post the other 2 when I get through them. Here's all the Epics, along with my interpretation of their names: Deathpoint - This is the point at which David's dad dies Fortuity - Fortuity is David's good luck, since that's when he meets the Reckoners Nightwielder Curveball - The curveball that life throws the Reckoners Refractionary Conflux Firefight Absence - Never appears on screen Limelight - He's designed to be in the limelight Faultline - The fault (supposedly) in Steelheart's cover up of the bank Bastion - He kept Conflux safe at the beginning of his Epic-ness Anyone else have an idea for the ones I missed?
  8. Steelheart is one of or my favourite single book ever. And the ending is just perfection. I've been drawing whatever I'm interested in at the moment in my diary along things I write there and I've been hooked on Reckoners and Stormlight archive, Stormlight archive is also my favourite book series ever.
  9. I made a list! Of Epics! Their names, powers (if known), weaknesses, whether they had prime invincibility, whether they were able to Gift, and any possibly significant notes. I'm not completely done yet--Went through Steelheart, and partway through Firefight. I forgot to look through Mitosis, so I'll do that after Firefight. Work in progress, please point out mistakes! https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1o7757LlkTY0abA4zOqjy62rcJhTHFihIareANxa1YPo/edit?usp=sharing Edit: Please read these two points. They are VERY IMPORTANT. 1. Please make sure that you can receive emails at whatever email address you request access from. For example, I get a LOT of requests from a .k12 address. Those addresses do not allow responses from addresses outside of their domain, so I can't do anything with the request. 2. The coppermind has a better and more updated list, so that would be a better place to go anyway, at this point. https://coppermind.net/wiki/Category:Epics Thanks!
  10. List typos here. I think I found a few: p. 11 - "Most Epics as strong as he was possess more than one." It should be, "possessed," since the sentence and paragraph are all referring to something in the past (past tense). p. 362 - "Checkmated him? Nightwielder? Was that what she talking about?" It should be, "Was that what she was talking about?"
  11. I just finished Steelheart and I wished I had more profound insights and questions I could post here. Oh well, it was just a great book. Wasn't it awesome when David killed Nightwielder? I thought so. Other question, is there a 'typos' thread for this book? I noted about 7 or 8.
  12. Hi! I'm fairly new to Brandon's works and this website, obviously. The first book of his I read was Skyward, which surprised me with its great humor and plot twists. I moved on to Warbreaker, and have since read Mistborn: The Final Empire, Elantris, and Steelheart. I still have to finish those series, and a long time yet to read The Way of Kings. I'm currently obsessed with The Wheel of Time, but have only managed to read 2 books because the others are always checked out at the library. Brandon's popularity makes it difficult to finish any series of his, but I'm making a valiant effort! See you guys in the Sanderson wormhole! - NorthStar Update: I finished TWoK and am starting on the sequel! Also, I've finally gotten my hands on the Reckoners series and the 3rd WoT book. Happy reading!
  13. Is anyone else getting the feeling that Fortnite is about to be hit by Calamity with the new skin teasings? Especially if they are bad and we have to save the world. I wouldn't mind a pair of tensors to turn my enemies structures to dust.
  14. I can be a bit short and cranky at times ...as can we all I suppose...but now I have a great excuse ( that no one I know will understand but it will be funny to see their reaction) I will say I just used my superpowers and that makes me cranky!!!
  15. Hi guys! I'm really curious about the mobiles that everyone uses. It seems like a phone, only more sturdier and with more features. Anyone have any theories as to what it really is? I know it has some kind of screen and that it could attach to your arm or shoulder, but what else do we know about them?
  16. Hey guys! I'm currently working on a Fan comic for The Reckoners. It's an aftermath story for Calamity. It's called Absolution and I hope you guys take a chance to read it,and enjoy it. If you like it, please tell me your thoughts, Plot: Tavi Phaedrus has become very uneasy since the fight with Obliteration. For months, She's not eating much, she's become restless, and becomes extremely jumpy. She remembers clearly on what happened during the battle. She was brought into David's world to fight Limelight, a version of her father, and nearly died because of it. She now worries that he will find a way to finish the fight she was dragged into . Prof also has a hard time living with himself. After all the horrible things he's done, he finds it hard to accept it all. He does everything he can to avoid his powers. He doesn't want to hurt his closest friends more than he already did. In doing so, he slowly grows more distant. After an alliance is made between the two dimensions, the two meet. Again. Can the two Epics learn to work together. Can they do that whilst two Epic plan a way to destroy New Cago?
  17. Hi folks, new guy here. Originally from Pakistan but living in Saudia for past half a decade. I was not much aware of English fantasy/fiction culture and had only read the mainstream and famous work (Tolkien, C.S Lewis, J.K Rowling, Dan Brown etc. ) and I thought there was not much more to it to interest me. Then few years ago I stumbled upon article on io9 about the upcoming books, one of them was steelheart with a cool trailer. Then saw bunch of guys praising Brandon Sanderson in the comments for how awesomely he finished WoT after Robert Jordan's passing. Naturally I had no idea about them or the books, but it conveyed the idea that WoT must be some good stuff for them to think of Brandon Sanderson in that way. So I immediately started that and within a couple of months or so I binge-read through WoT and was totally blown away by how awesomely and with honesty Brandon Sanderson finished the work of a different author, felt even a little guilty for feeling that maybe Brandon Sanderson did a better job than Robert Jordan, as it was very easy to lose track or sometimes get annoyed when the PoV monologue or description etc. seemingly went on forever with Robert jordan in some cases. Since then I have read almost all of Brandon Sanderson's work, and I am thankful to him, Robert Jordan and Naomi Novik (I stumbled upon her Temeraire series couple of months before WoT on io9), these reintroduced me or rather properly indoctrinated me into fantasy scene. p.s: pardon my grammar and stuff. English isn't my 1st or even 2nd language.
  18. Funny how Brandon seems to be coming out with multiple books set in alternate earths. Funny how the inherit magic systems seem to be both evil, and soft magic. Funny how he claims that both are non-cosmere. This seems like an awfully large COINCIDENCE and you know what they say about COINCIDENCES? "It takes an awful lot of work to make a coincidence" - Winston Churchill (probably) Perhaps this has some connection to this mysterious "Adolnasium Opposing Force"? Anybody think I'm on to something; or that this theory is the work of 999 monkeys in a room with a typewriter?
  19. This thread is now closed to Epic characters, though anyone is welcome to adopt a non-Epic player character. This is not as lame as it sounds. Being a town run by normal humans, The Dalles arguably presents more opportunities for non-Epic characters. Besides, if you join as an Epic, your character will either join one of two gangs trying to conquer the city, work for the City Guard, or be shot on sight. Your options are kind of limited there. If you're set on adopting an Epic, check out the Salem thread. Late November, two years ago Koschei the Deathless marched into the farmhouse, pistol in hand, purple cloak billowing behind him. Snowflakes fell, catching on his cloak and sticking in his hair, and he irritably pulled up the hood. Barrett Springfield had betrayed him. A hole in his stomach and a slit throat, and he had chosen a killing shot for Haze over a wound for his brother. When he ordered Haze and Headshot into the farmhouse, Koschei had been certain their mortal wounds would keep the Springfields firmly under his thumb. Yet Barrett had betrayed. Two mortal wounds, and he still betrayed. Koschei wished, not for the first time, that he could raise the dead. Were he graced with this gift, he would have raised Barrett a dozen times to kill him again and again. He slammed the door open. “What do we have?” Two vanillas knelt in the living room, hands behind their heads as Headshot held a pistol to each of their skulls. Tank had a dark-haired toddler in pink pajamas folded in his arms, who let out a wail the moment she spotted the newcomer. Koschei winced. “Shut her up, will you?” “Just calm down, Gloria,” her mother cooed. Her own voice was thick with tears. “Please, sweetie, just stop crying. Everything’s going to be fine.” Gloria’s wail increased in volume. Tears flowed down her mother’s cheeks as her father added his voice in a desperate attempt to comfort her. The noise, the voices, the tears—it pounded at his skull, tearing through his resolve, he had to do something quickly or he would shoot them all and be down a family— Koschei’s revolver was trained on the child in a heartbeat. “Shut her up or I’ll shut her up for good!” Her parents fell silent. Even Gloria ceased her wailing, easing into a low, pitiful whimper. “Please,” her mother pleaded. Her voice was soft now, wavering. “Please, don’t shoot her. We’ll do anything you want.” Her father swallowed. “I’ll tell you where we keep the weapons. The code to the safe. Anything.” Wheels turned in Koschei’s mind. His Epics had little need of weapons at the moment, though they would certainly be a boon, and Tank could simply tear the door off the safe. If this man was willing to give him the code, it meant he was breaking. He lowered his revolver. “Tell me the code.” He rattled off a string of numbers, which Koschei committed to memory. “It’s in our closet. Second door down the hall. Ammo’s there, too.” “Set Gloria on the floor,” he told Tank, “and see if they’re telling the truth.” He returned a moment later with the safe in his arms. Koschei entered the code and opened the door to half a dozen rifles with an adequate supply of ammunition. His smile was genuine. “Thank you,” he told the father, “for telling the truth.” The man relaxed slightly. “Come here, Gloria. Come here and sit with Papa.” “Tank, bring Gloria to me.” “You have the guns,” her mother said pleadingly. Frantically. “We gave you what you wanted, and you said you wouldn’t hurt her.” Ignoring her, Koschei holstered his pistol. Tank carried a squirming, kicking Gloria to where he stood. “Tilt her head back.” He did so. “You have the guns.” There was no demanding note in his voice. No anger. Only fear. “You said you’d leave her alone.” “I said nothing of the sort.” “Please!” Her mother’s whisper was frantic and urgent. “We’ll do anything!” Koschei paused to give the couple a smile, drawing a dagger from his belt. “I know you will.” One quick slice and he slit the child’s throat. Screams. Pleas. Koschei calmly placed his hand over the wound. The edges drew together. Blood ceased flowing onto his palm. The screams fell silent. “Your Gloria will live,” Koschei told the couple, sheathing his knife and taking a cloth from his pocket. He wiped the blood from his hand as he faced them. “Provided you do as I say. For what I give….” He wiped the blood from her throat and withdrew a small amount of the power he had given. A short, narrow red line appeared on her throat, drawing a frantic whimper. “I can also take away.” Koschei regarded the couple for a long moment, struck by the contrast between them and the Springfields. Where that family had glared from the moment they were healed to the moment Koschei named the price of his gift, this couple stared. Not in outrage. Not in shock. Only terror. The woman bit her lower lip, sobbing quietly, not daring to avert her gaze from Gloria. Her husband’s eyes flickered from Koschei to his daughter. Perhaps there was a spark of anger, but it died the second Koschei touched his knife. A smile curved his lips. These people were broken. Thoroughly broken. And he owned them.
  20. ...in which case the audience didn't, either. In the prologue of Steelheart, David describes Epic weaknesses thusly: By this definition, an Epic whose weakness is in effect should be unable to use their powers in any way whatsoever, as if they were no longer an Epic at all. Being attacked by or being in the presence of a person who does not fear him does not appear to have this effect on Steelheart. Although an attack from a person who does not fear him is shown to be able to bypass his defensive power, he is able to use his other abilities within seconds of suffering such an attack, as seen when he mortally wounds Blain Charleston with a super-strength-enhanced punch just after the latter's bullet grazes him. I suppose it is possible that Steelheart's other powers simply do not work while he is being attacked by someone who doesn't fear him, but upon consideration, another explanation presents itself. In Firefight, the Reckoners confront the Epic Sourcefield, whose weakness is Kool-Aid. While fighting her, David notices that different degrees of exposure to her weakness seem to affect her powers in different ways. Pouring it over one of her forcefields causes that particular field to disappear, and splashing it on her body causes her personal protective field to momentarily flicker and weaken. However, only when David removes her mouth guard and forces her to drink some do her powers shut down completely. Sourcefield's true weakness, the condition that makes her functionally an ordinary person, is drinking Kool-Aid; having it touch her body or her forcefields is what we might call a "pseudo-weakness", a related condition that dampens an Epic's powers but doesn't entirely stop them. Another example of this phenomenon is a major plot point in Calamity. So, if being attacked by someone who doesn't fear him is a pseudo-weakness for Steelheart, what might his true weakness be? Perhaps his powers would shut down if no one in the world, or at least no one within a certain distance of him, feared him at all? We will probably never know. (Does this post need to be in the Calamity subforum? It's not specifically about Calamity, but it does mention Calamity spoilers as part of its argument. Apologies if I've misplaced it.)
  21. Lina

    STEELHEART

    From the album: Alt Covers

  22. Hello everyone. This is my first post, so please correct me on beginner's mistakes. Also, please notify me if this topic has already been done. Anyway, lets get onto the topic. After reading Calamity (multiple times), I've started to wonder what Calamity is. It has the qualities of a Shard, but it isn't in the Shardworld system. So what is it? That's the topic of this discussion.
  23. Welcome to Hurt-and-Heal: Epics! If you've never played before, here's the rules: Each Epic starts with 5 HP. In each post of yours, choose 1 Epic to hurt for 1 HP and 1 to heal for 1 HP. In your post, please specify who you're hurting/healing and post an updated list with your choices bolded and numbers updated. You may post multiple times, but must wait for at least 10 minutes and 2 posts before you can post again. When only 2 Epics are left (or when the players want it), hurting increases potency to 2 HP The last Epic standing is victorious. For my turn, I Hurt Conflux and Heal Limelight. 1. Steelheart-5 2.Calamity-5 3. Firefight-5 4. Murkwood-5 5. Limelight-6 6. Conflux-4 7. Nightwielder-5 8. Fortuity-5 9. Obliteration-5 10. Regalia-5
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