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  1. Dear Dawn, You are quite… persistent in your letters. Although I rarely meet with nobles, I am interested in meeting with you. Your words flattered my greatly, and I would appreciate meeting with you. Come alone, and meet me at the palace of Kedrik Shaw. Show this letter to the Inquisitors standing guard, and they will guide you to my room so that we can talk. Sincerely, The Lord Ruler The shadowy figured flew through the mists, gliding effortlessly across coins that he periodically dropped. A blue line moved beneath him, at the comparatively slow pace of a person walking. The figure dropped down, using a coin to slow his momentum, and landed directly behind the person. Dawn stood, surrounded by the Mists, she moved, clutching a letter to her chest, as she moved towards Kedrik Shaw. She was almost there, now, and she just knew that this meeting would become something more. A coin clinked down behind Dawn, and she turned around, surprised at the sound of it. A figured dropped down, out of the mists, and paused, hovering three feet above the ground. “What do you want?” Dawn said, slightly scared. The only response she got was a smile. The figure launched a knife towards her, propelled by a steelpush. Dawn dodged out of the way at the last second, the knife taking off a piece of her hair. She stumbled and fell, as another knife launched towards her stomach. She attempted to dodge, but it stabbed right through her. She didn’t have anything she could do… except. She burned Aluminium. The middle part of the knife ceased to exist, while the tip fell to the ground on one side, and the hilt on the other. Dawn layed there, barely able to move but drew out one last letter to The Lord Ruler in her own blood: I will always love you. Throughout Kyrain’s life, he’d been fascinated by music. The strong notes, rising and falling in beautiful harmony, encapsulated life in a way mere words could not. When he’d snapped in his childhood, he’d considered himself blessed by the outcome. As a Seeker, he heard profound rhythms, rhythms that no one else ever would; the staccato of steel with the legato of iron, the deep thrum of pewter and the high notes of tin. He’d been told he heard it in a way different from most, which must have been a gift from Infinity itself, and one which he wouldn’t trade for the world. It was, he thought, one of the few things that made life bearable in a world of stuffy formalities and a dull aristocracy. Music continued to thrum within the dance hall as Kyrain stole silently out of the doors and into the mists, but he was more concerned with a rhythm of another sort. It was one he’d heard only once before, and one he’d hoped to never hear again. It was the rhythm that came when a Mistborn were about to kill, the rhythm of the most dangerous weapon that existed. It was the rhythm of Atium. Someone within the ballroom had been burning it, and Kyrain knew it could only mean death. Atium was valuable to an insane degree, and could not be used frivolously; if it were being used in the hall, it meant the hall was about to become a bloodbath, or at least the site of an assassination. He’d left as soon as he’d heard it, sending a Terrisman to find his brother; he didn’t wish to be caught in whatever was happening there. The veneer of normalcy was about to collapse, and there was no way to avoid it anymore; a mistborn with Atium was not a force one could stop. As he moved further into the mists, he began to breath more easily. The mists, he’d heard it said, were the protectors of allomancers. They enveloped them, kept them safe. Now, as the mists swirled around him, he felt that to be true. A calm enveloped him, despite the eerie noise that continued to emanate from the hall. That feeling turned to dread, however, as the noise grew and he heard footsteps fall against the cobbled street behind him. Rusts. When he’d left the hall, he’d thought to distance himself from the target. Instead, he’d only isolated himself. He turned, facing the allomancer. The figure who stood before him was dressed not in a mistcloak, but rather in formalwear. They strode forward towards him, and for a brief second Kyrian froze. They could end it now; a simple coin launched at him would be sufficient to take him down. Why didn’t they? Did the figure think he was mistborn? It seemed plausible; for what other reason would atium be expended to kill him? Knowing he had no chance of winning, he resigned himself to death. He did not, however, resign himself to immediate death. Atium was expensive, he knew, and to burn it would cost his assassin thousands of boxings every minute. He resolved, then, to ensure as much was burned as possible. Despite logically knowing the element of surprise was lost, he was nonetheless startled when the figure began to run a moment before he himself did. The soft impacts on the cobbles became loud noises that the mists seemed to amplify, each step cracking in the night. The houses nearby must be able to hear. Even in his desperation, however, he refrained from calling out; the Skaa in the hovels would only think he were a mistwraith attempting to steal their souls or some other nonsense, and even if they didn’t they were unlikely to help him anyways. Ironic to think of relying on Skaa when just minutes ago you were considering how to root them out, a part of his brain remarked inanely. Apparently the face of death hadn’t discouraged it from making unhelpful comments. As Kyrain ran, he resisted the urge to move side to side. The person chasing him would know his response before he himself did and would respond to it before it happened; running directly away was his only hope to draw out the chase. The sound of atium rose in intensity, and Kyrian knew it was being flared. The next moments would be his last. As he slowed, knowing that continuing to run would be hopeless, a glass dagger impacted his lower back and he collapsed to the wet cobbles of the street. The sound of atium ceased. He tried to struggle back up, tried to pull the knife from his own back to wield it against the person who’d killed him, but a boot quickly planted him back into the ground. Kyrain felt the last of his energy seep out as his last, vain attempt was stopped. The figure bent to pull the knife out, and Kyrain once again became aware of the music in the keep. It wasn’t far, despite Kyrain’s best efforts to run away; he’d been caught before even a minute had passed. They shifted their weight, bringing a knife to Kyrain’s throat. The last thing he heard was the rhythm of the music, rising to a crescendo as his final breath escaped his lips. Variel stood, watching over the Skaa who were carefully cleaning every last speck of dust off of each of his 32 best suits. After all, they weren’t kept in pristine condition by not be cleaned. This group of Skaa would be finished working on the suits in an hour, then the next group would take over for six hours. The two groups would cycle back and forth, working on cleaning his suits, making sure they were always in pristine condition. Variel turned to leave, when he heard a ripping sound coming from his 22nd suit. He turned around in shock, and his eyes instantly flickered to his 22nd suit. A skaa stood there, a smile upon his lips as he pulled his arms further apart, ripping the suit even more. Variel prepared to yell at the Skaa, when 31 more ripping sounds started to come from each of his suits, as each one was torn to pieces by the Skaa cleaning destroying them. He dropped to his knees, not nearly prepared to deal the loss of his prized possessions. His arm dropped to his left pocket, trying to find the watch that he always kept there for some sense of comfort. It was not in his left pocket. Now that he thought about it, he could actually feel a weight in his right pocket, and he instantly knew that it was his pocket watch. The Skaa closed in on him, prepared to kill him, but he had already died from the shock. StrikerEZ has died, he was a Bronze Misting! Steeldancer has died, she was an Aluminium Misting! Bugsy has died, he was a Bronze Misting! All credit goes to Bugsy for his death writeup! Give him your upvotes! Favour: 1-30 2-26 3-36 4-35 Player list: