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Found 14 results

  1. Jastes Lekal took one last look at the smouldering ruins of his home. Family gathered around him, he peered between the lightly falling flakes of ash, as the skaa rebels began to plunder the fire-ridden frame which had once been his mansion. He muttered a curse to himself. What had he been thinking? Giving mere skaa any sort of power? Of course it would come to this, in the end. Blame Elend Venture he would for planting the idea, but had he really been so blinded as to allow representative assemblies by the working peoples? Yes, he had, apparently. But he would not be repeating these same mistakes. He intended, indeed, not to make any idealistic commitment such as that ever again. Fingering a brass earring, Lekal turned to the pitiful, scattered regiment of noble-blooded guards and the few skaa who had had the sense to retain their connections to true nobility in the aftermath of the rebellion. He could trust—or he hoped he could trust—these men. Sticking with somebody who lost power tended to mark you as loyal. Facing them, with a soft, insidious voice seeming to whisper in the dark corners of his mind, he spoke. “I have a plan to recover from this blow.” A few eyebrows went up, but the men said nothing, so Lekal continued. The voice in his head seemed to give him the guidance he needed. “We will make a play for the city of Luthadel itself.” That got reactions. Gasps, mutters, groans. He let them pass—indeed, he revelled in them. His plans would shake the world. “I have access to a force larger than any our enemies can muster—a force which will kill without mercy, fight without pain, and conquer for us. It simply must get into the weakened city. I have a special task for a select few of you…” Trapped. That was how Elend Venture felt. Trapped, and abandoned. Dockson reported that Cett had left the city, which should have been welcome news. Clubs’ spies had even heard credible rumours that Straff Venture was finally dead. That should have made Elend caper with glee. But neither, ultimately, mattered as much as the price he had paid. Vin was gone. A final report, given by a somber Ham, was the worst of the three. The Mistborn Zane, one of his father’s lackeys, had kidnapped Vin. Kidnapped her! He would not believe reports which said that Vin had gone willingly, whatever Ham’s insistences. She couldn’t have. Sazed and Tindwyl had tried to calm him on this matter, but it didn’t work. Elend’s mind raced, trying to figure out how to apprehend the pair. He laughed bitterly. Outpace a pair of Mistborn? Better luck trying to clean the ash off a roof with a pebble. He would need something to draw Zane back, a threat he couldn’t ignore. His plan had been the Atium stash, but they were no closer to that then when they’d first begun. Perhaps he would need to send more men looking for it, now that the city was nearly his again. Elend surveyed the map on his desk. If his father was dead, the threat from the north was mostly finished. An alliance with Cett meant the south and east were mostly his, too. There remained only the west, and that was in good hands with Jastes Lekal. His former confidant would likely be overseeing a happy populace, and would be willing to help Elend find Vin. He sighed. Not much of a victory, but a small one. He’d take it. Unfortunately, it brought him no closer to Vin. Suddenly, the hallway door burst open, revealing a huffing Spook. “Wasing the coming of here,” he gasped out, “finding the moving of Uncle, wasing the seeing of army. Big army.” He spread his hands to indicate size. “Ising the marching of here. West.” Elend’s heart clenched. Another army? Cett’s men had nearly wiped out his supporters the first time. He took a deep breath. Perhaps this, however, would be the threat that drew Zane—and therefore Vin—back to him. He smiled wanly. Perhaps Lekal was not overseeing a content skaa populace after all. Even so, he would force himself to meet and counter this threat as well. It would be the least he could do. Welcome to LG55: Disquiet. With the recent demise of Cett’s Infiltrators at the hands of the Unstable Mistborn, Zane, he and Vin have hoped to begin a new life away from the turmoil in Luthadel. However, their joy is short-lived. Another man with aspirations of taking the city, Jastes Lekal, has arrived, this time with a koloss army at his back. To help weaken the city against his force, he too has sent his Subordinates into Luthadel to topple Elend Venture, the man who currently holds the city. Despite their unwillingness, both sides are now in the conflict, for better or worse. The rules of this game may be accessed here. You may also use the spoiler underneath here, but I make no promises as to the quality of the formatting. Rollover will be at 9:00 PM EDT, or UTC -4:00, at least for now (this may change depending upon my schedule). Signups will close on Thursday 16 May, at 9:00 EDT. (That’s about ten days from now, and marks the end of the busy period in my life. ) Player List: Rules Clarifications: Quick Links: Good luck to all.
  2. Elend’s men had performed a near-unceasing vigil during the night, eyeing each of their neighbours with suspicion and keeping daggers underneath their pillows; another murder was anticipated. It was a tired and haggard force which therefore awoke the next day to the shocked realisation that the customary whittling of their number had not been effected; indeed, had not been attempted in the first place. Far from banishing the calls for collective action against a killer, however, such an occurrence only strengthened the resolve of the gutted inner circle which surrounded Elend Venture that one of their number should be held responsible for unmitigated treason against their leader, and the lack of a killing seemed to confirm the worst fears of a quieter group of advisors, which rose to protest the vocal role that Aname Plees had taken of late. What had before been seen as a necessary continuation of her influence in finding and subduing Vin had soured into suspicion that an elaborate ruse had been practised on them all. So it was that Ford Prefect, along with Snip and Abe, rose against Aname, seeking to quickly dispatch her before serious retaliation could be considered. However, as the day had grown long in the midst of the heated debate, the snowy owl with which Aname had a natural affinity woke from its long slumber in the dark recesses of the room, sensing the approach of night. Upon viewing danger to Aname, Heer Kilyal II sprang from his perch, alighting on Ford’s head and driving his claws into his skull. Abe sprinted towards Ford, attempting to rescue him or drive away the feathered ball of fluff which was beginning to crush Ford’s head in between its talons, but tripped and landed facefirst on the long, trailing carpet which spanned the length of the room, which Aname had kicked into his path hurriedly. Two coins fell from his pocket, landing on opposite sides, and Abe sensed...disappointment?...coming from the object. Meanwhile, Snip, standing nearby, reacted instinctively; his instincts as a Hazekiller, honed from decades of training, had him snatch a nearby spear and ram it through Aname as soon as the owl began attacking Ford. Spinning, he pointed the spear at the white-feathered creature, but it had already released Ford’s corpse, and appeared to be hopping around with a paper in its beak. Snip snatched it out of the dull bird’s mouth, and read it to the quieted room. “I, Jastes Lekal, hereby allow these four men: Ford Prefect, Senn Conrad III, ‘Zane the Mad,’ and Doma, to access any aid within Luthadel which they should require in the process of handing me the city. If you see this letter and obey me, keep silent at my command. I am coming soon.” Dropping the paper, he crumpled to the ground in front of Aname’s freshly killed corpse, in remorse and relief. The threat was over. Now to rebuild. Lumgol was lynched! She was a Elend’s Loyalist Tineye 2! Furamirionind was lynched! She was a Lekal’s Subordinate Rioter 2! Lum (2): Fura, Snip Fura (2): Coop, Lum All of Jastes Lekal’s men have been driven out of the city, and with Zane and Vin neutralised, Elend’s Loyalists have won the day. My apologies for a slightly rushed aftermath writeup. Joe is busy working on something very large; meanwhile, I’m in need of sleep, and the dead doc is distracting me. (Not that I’m complaining, it’s fun. ) A more complete writeup, along with a general reflection on how the game went, will be coming within the next few days. Until then, a few special thanks, and the doc links: First, to @Alvron for IMing, as well as @Elbereth who helped me make a few calls on balance and was generally wonderful to discuss the game with until real life prevented her from checking in as much. Both were fun spectators, and you can find our discussion here. Second, to my co-GM @A Joe in the Bush. His help was invaluable with writeups, and though work and busy-ness also took him out of the picture later in the game, he continued to pitch in where he could. He deserves all the upvotes you can find to give him. More importantly, however, he served as the Gatekeeper of the Dead, Kelsier, and the largest of the four secrets in the game. His role was mainly to be able to pass on short messages from the dead, and to troll and make people paranoid. He accomplished both wonderfully. You may access his realm, the realm of the dead, here. (Said realm also describes the final two secrets, Alv’s Carpet and Kelsier, for those interested.) Third, to the Mistborn. @_Stick_ and @Mailliw73 were both highly active and committed players, and though they were caught early, the silver-tongued speech of Maill and the ingenuity of Stick’s plans bought them a few extra turns. While they were ultimately unable to clinch victory, I thank them both for their dedication to the roles I gave them, and admire the guile they demonstrated in their use of actions, especially with Maill’s pet OreSeur. Here you may find their conversation. Fourth, to the Eliminators. As with the Mistborn, they were all active and driven, and made the most of their circumstances despite a few poor turns of fortune. Particularly, the work which @Steeldancer put into finding Zane, the stalling efforts of @Devotary of Spontaneity and @Rathmaskal which denied the Mistborn their victory, and the distancing and perseverance of @Furamirionind towards the end were a joy to watch unfold and brought the Subordinates to the cusp of victory. Their planning is every bit as good as the Mistborn’s, and I thank them for their consistent activity and dedication to the game, even when dead. Here is their doc. Finally, to the village, congratulations and thank you for playing. While I shan’t tag all of you, I ought to make note of @Araris Valerian for tolerating being the first person lynched (again...), @Elandera and @Lumgol for being active voices towards the end of the game after many of the more active villagers had died in the first few cycles, and @Cadmium Compounder and @Amanuensis for sticking with the game consistently despite IRL obligations cluttering up their time. To close off, I’d like to say that it’s my hope and pleasure as a GM to provide a fun game for all of you, and that it’s my wish that I followed through on that commitment here. Final Player List:
  3. Aname Plees: Hey Ford you still around Aname Plees: Mind making me kill myself tonight if I think about killing anybody? XD Ford Prefect: Sure thing, was planning on it. I’ll always take requests to redirect any murderous thoughts you might have : ) Ford Prefect: Btw where did everyone else go Aname Plees: Dunno, maybe they’re asleep Ford Prefect: Hey that’s not a bad idea : P Ford Prefect: What could possibly go wrong with us all sleeping with at least one murderer trying to kill Elend lol Aname Plees: Ikr Aname Plees: Well, I’m to bed. Night Ford Prefect: Night Aname Plees has left the chat Ford Prefect: Fynn I see you lurking there. You can talk now Ford Prefect: There’s nobody around but us lol Ford Prefect: Fynn like seriously Ford Prefect: All the Mistborn are dead now Ford Prefect: are you gonna help Elend or what Ford Prefect: FYNN Fynn Seidel: I have nothing more to say to you. You all tried to kill Vin. You failed. So I’ll fail you until I get evidence you’ll stop working against me. You’ll see no more of me until later. Fynn Seidel has left the chat Ford Prefect: ...okay then lol Ford Prefect: Talk in the morning. Night all Nobody was attacked. Day Eight has begun. This cycle will last the full 48 hours, until 9 PM EDT (-4:00 UTC) on Saturday 8 June. However, in an effort to speed the game along in its final stages, I am implementing the following rules modifications: 1. I have been extremely lenient with my two-cycle inactivity filter. However, it’s too late in the game for people to be MIA—it takes away too much of the discussion that should be prevalent with smaller playercounts. As such, any player who does not post by the end of the Night turn will die. @Lumgol @Furamirionind @Snipexe @Ax's Boyfriend @Hemalurgic Headshot @Straw @Coop772 You have all been notified. Please remain active participants in discussion. And my thanks to Lum and Fura for actually bothering to comment on something last Night. 2. If a majority of living players vote for it, I will shorten any Day turn by 24 hours. As such, this cycle may end at 9 PM EDT on Friday 7 June should the majority of you will it so. Please remember that PMs, as always, are closed at Day. Good luck to all. Player List:
  4. Dockson motioned his men forward, beckoning at them wordlessly to drift up to the deserted rooftop of Keep Lekal. Supposedly, the Mistborn had been using this as their lair the entire time they’d been in the city. Dockson was sceptical, but the fact remained that this Keep was Elend’s best shot at finding Vin. His Hazekillers followed silently, well trained to keep noise to an absolute minimum. He doubted it mattered much to one burning Tin—then again, he could easily check that through other means. Holding up a fist, and giving the Hazekillers time to form up behind him, Dockson peered from behind the parapet. Vin was there, kneeling on the cold stone. She looked to have been crying, and given her emotional speech earlier in the day, Dox could hardly blame her. His heart reached out to the poor skaa girl—she’d been so thoroughly mired in the political muck of Luthadel he feared she may never find her way out. Still, his orders were clear. He raised a hand quickly, and another one was quickly raised in acknowledgement on the other side of the rooftop. A deafening clang was heard, the tremor caused by a set of cymbals made specifically to disorient Tineyes, and as Vin cried out in shock and pain, falling to the floor, Dockson quickly moved his Hazekillers in around her. Shaking her head, she flicked the hair out of her eyes defiantly and stared up at the ring. “I suppose you’ve come to finish what you began earlier, then,” she sighed. “Well, make it quick.” “Quick?” Dockson was taken aback. “Vin, we’re here to bring you home!” “Home where?” she retorted. “Home,” Dockson repeated. “To Elend, to Keep Venture. Where you’ll be safe from this madness. Safe from the political stupidity of this whole rusting city!” He kicked a coin Vin had presumably dropped, watching as it hopskipped over the ramparts and fell to the ground beneath. “This is the first time you can break free from us, when you’re not tied to anyone, aren’t obligated to anyone. Don’t you see, Vin? You, me, we were never meant to be politicians or leaders or anything else other than a crew working towards a goal. Let the nobility, let Elend deal with this madness, with the koloss. You need to rest from this.” “I can’t, Dox,” she sighed. “I’m needed. Everywhere, and I can’t be everywhere. I thought...well, I thought Zane and I...could do something important here. That we could cleanse Luthadel of corruption. But...we missed the point. Dox, there’s a whole conflict outside even this mess...I can’t let up, can’t rest, as you put it.” She looked up, eyes red-rimmed. “The world needs me too much for any of that.” “The world can wait, Vin,” Dox implored. “Please. Come back with me. If you won’t continue with Elend, I don’t care. Just come back. Perhaps the city needs you, but it needs to see you back with us, with Elend, if it wants to preserve hope these coming days.” He paused, looking into her eyes. “Please,” he repeated. Vin wavered. “They have Elend already,” she said. “Let them look to him as their guide. What do they want with me—a rogue, a skaa, a vigilante?” “The Ascendant Warrior?” Dockson cut in. “The woman who slew the Lord Ruler, who saved this city once already? You’re a hero, Vin. But most importantly, you’re missed. The greatest service you can give Luthadel is to come back with us and regain your strength. You’ll accomplish nothing in this state.” He reached out his hand. Vin hesitated, a brief look of indecision etched onto her features, then reached out and grabbed it. “With you, then,” she answered gravely. “And there’ll be no returning this time.” Mailliw73 was lynched! He was Vin! Vin possessed the item: OreSeur. OreSeur: This Kandra allows the user to target one player each Night; the owner learns who their target performed their action on. Passive metals will not show up to this scan. Vote Count: Maill (5): Maill, Lum, Fura, Ark, Straw Night 7 has begun! It will end in about 22-23 hours, on Thursday 6 June at 9 PM EDT (-4:00 UTC). PMs remain open during the Night. Please abide by all restrictions on their use. Good luck! Player List:
  5. Wrtng wtht vwls ws cntns chllng fr Xm Rnd fllwng thr thft t th hnds f th mst sprt, bt h ws dtrmnd t crry tht tsk t cmpltn. T hd bcm vrtlly mpssbl t ndrstnd wht h dsrd t cmmnct, bt h cncldd tht wth sffcnt tm fr ppl t djst t th nw systm, th trgs thft wld b lss mpctfl. S wtht cr Xm Rnd, r dvnts, s hs pn nm wnt, st bt ttmptng t prv tht hs cmmnctn cld rtn ts ntllgblty. Nfrtntly, h cld nt cmmnct wth th mst mprtnt ppl t ll: th rmnnts f Jsts Lkl’s xpdtnry frc nt th cty. S pn hrng f hs pwr vr Brss, th Sbrdnts prmptly hd hm klld, nd th ncmplt wrds, mssng thr vwls, md lvly grv nscrptn: Hr Ls Xm Rnd Lnd’s Lylst Brtlly Pllgd nd Mrdrd Rst n th Srvvr’s Pc dvnts ws ttckd nd klld! H ws Lnd’s Lylst Sthr 1! Dy 7 hs bgn! T wll nd n bt 46-47 hrs, n Wdnsdy 5 Jn t 9 PM DT (-4:00 TC). Pls rmmbr tht PMs rmn clsd drng th Dy. Gd lck! Plyr Lst:
  6. Zane was not Mad. The longer he stayed in Luthadel, the more certain he became that God was not a broken part of his head. God noticed people before he did sometimes, and knew things he didn’t. No one else could hear God, but God couldn’t hear his thoughts. God had wanted him to kill everyone he had ever seen, except Vin. Zane hadn’t know who Vin was when he first saw her, and had actually been looking forward to a proper challenge with another Mistborn when his father’s army had marched on Luthadel. But he had seen her, and had waited for the order, either from his father or from God, and neither had said a word about her. That night, Zane had left the camp and explored Luthadel. He looked for as many new people as he could, looked at as many people as possible, and God had told him to kill each one of them without fail. He had asked God about it, and God had stayed silent. God never remarked on Vin. He was scared of her. Zane worked hard to earn her favour. He murdered Cett’s minions, he demonstrated that he cared deeply about the things she cared about, he proved himself stronger in every way than his half brother, and finally she had come with him. He was timid, afraid of driving her away. He knew how others saw him, called him Zane the Mad. He worked hard to appear Sane and normal in all his dealings with her. Everything he did was strictly rational, everything he did was calm and controlled. He was not a savage, though he had been once. He was not insane, though others said otherwise. He was not a monster, though he wasn’t sure if anyone truly was. As the two of them carefully hunted down and killed Lekal’s supporters, he searched through records and lore, looking for anything that could be causing the voice in his head. God discouraged him constantly, but he persevered. With Vin’s help, he continued. And then a new voice spoke in his head, but Vin heard it too. The enemy speaks to those whose soul is pierced by Metal. Vin, do not trust those with spikes. And finally, Zane understood. “Somehow, Kelsier has become what the Skaa say he is, a god of some sort.” Vin was pacing back and forth on the secluded rooftop. “He can speak to those of us who have been hemalurgic spikes, like the inquisitors do.” She brushed the earring she had worn for as long as he had know her. “But he isn’t the only one who knows how.” She hesitated, glancing from him to her hands. “I think my brother Reen can as well. I’ve heard his voice ever since he abandoned me, and I know he died soon afterwards.” Zane rubbed his back, feeling at the thick circle of Steel protruding from his Spine. “Who died to make your Earring?” Vin shrugged. “Reen always told me that it was my sister. He found me covered in blood, my mother had killed her and given me my earring and proclaimed me queen of the world. Yours?” “I don’t know. I’ve always had it, and my father told me to ignore it. They tried to remove it once, and I nearly died. Apparently that it was caused me to Snap.” He didn’t remember it, but also didn’t remember ever not having Allomancy.” I Anointed you my Priest Zane. I knew you would be a powerful servant. He didn’t flinch at the voice. It too had been with him his whole life. And apparently the two were connected. “If we remove our Spikes, the Dead won’t be able to control us. Our Demons won’t be able to talk to us.” Vin nodded, coming to stand before him. You will lose a great deal of your power if you do. I gave you your power to serve me Zane! “I am a free man, and you are not God!” He snarled out to the side. Vin stepped back, her hands reflexively going towards her daggers. He wanted to be free of this. She could save him. This was how, this was how he could be free of God forever. “Vin, please, I need you to remove my Spike. I don’t want to hear the voices.” “We’re being hunted Zane, if we do it now, we could very well be caught without the ability to flee.” Listen to her Zane! Hunt them all down and Kill them first! That is why you were born! “No!” She shrunk down away from herself, “No, Vin, please that wasn’t at you, I, please I’m sorry.” He held out his hands to her. “Please Vin, I can’t stand it anymore, take it out of me.” NO! Zane didn’t react this time, and Vin slowly stepped forward. “Alright. Sit down and take your shirt off.” Don’t do this Zane! Zane turned around, and slowly knelt down. This is a terrible idea, you will die! He grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it off above his head. Very few people had ever seen his spike, and none had had a positive reaction to it. Your only purpose in life is to Kill Zane, you are not even a man! He felt Vin’s hand brush down his spine, around the spike, and come to a stop. “This will hurt Zane.” You will be less than everyone if you do this! Your powers will be gone! You will be a wretched human again! Vin gripped his spike. He burned Bronze and felt the pewter pulses coming from her. He burned Pewter, and prepared to burn Duraluminum. “I’m ready.” You are Not! “Okay.” Zane gripped the edge of the roof, and felt Vin burn Duralumin. She yanked. NO! Zane screamed. He burned Duralumin and went through all of his pewter in a flash. The pain all left him, but the hole remained, barely healed at all. He fell forward, and Vin was at his side. She pressed something up to his lips, and he felt pewter dust begin to slide down his throat. He desperately burned it up as it reached his stomach, and the pain receded. “Are you there God?” He waited. Vin stared at him anxiously. No voice. He began to laugh, his whole body shaking with pain, and joy. Sobs wracked him as for the first time, he felt whole. He felt the blood spilling from the hole in his body, but Vin began to wrap a bandage around him. He burned Tin. Everything felt so new. Like the end of an Ashfall. Everything was brighter. Vin’s touch was softer. The stone underneath him was more solid. The voices from the floor below were more united. Oh. “Vin, below us.” He looked over his shoulder at her. Her head was cocked, and her beautiful hair streamed to one side. “I hear them. Can you stand?” Zane grabbed her shoulder for support, and tried to pull himself up. His legs gave way, and he fell to the floor. “Urgh, no. I’ll pull myself along.” The door on the far end of the roof slammed open, and 5 figures, clad in leather and holding thick wooden shields and canes strode out onto the roof. Vin cursed, and pointed up and too their left. “There’s an anchor up there. Let’s go.” She shot away, pulling on Iron. Zane burned Iron, found the anchor, and pulled. He barely got half his body off the floor before he collapsed a foot further than he had been. He blinked, and tried again, flaring his Iron. The Hazekillers were running towards him now. “Zane! Come on!” “I can’t Vin!” He flared his Iron harder, and dragged himself all the way to the end of the roof, smashing his barely responding body into the ramparts. Vin landed in front of him, daggers out. “Riot them then. Make them afraid. I’ll take them.” He could hear the tremors in her voice. More Hazekillers and soldiers were still coming out the far door. There were close to 2 dozen already spreading out around the two of them. Zane smiled. It felt good to smile. And it was an entirely new good. It wasn’t the thrill of an upcoming battle, but the joy of a coming end. “No, Vin, leave. Get to Terris. Thank you for everything.” She didn’t look at him. “I won’t abandon you. I’ve been on both sides of that far too often.” He could hear the tears coming. Zane knew that not all his power came from the Spike. He was better than that. Always had been. And Vin was still wearing her metals. He still had Steel. He inhaled, and then burned it, flared it, ignited it all at once, and pushed. She was above him, and before him, at a perfect angle. She yelped once as he flung her airborne, far from him, far from the earth that didn’t deserve her. Far enough away that she wouldn’t be able to die trying to protect him. His smile never faded as the Hazekillers came forward. “Goodbye, Vin,” he whispered, and the ring closed. _Stick_ was lynched! She was Zane the Unstable Mistborn! Vote Count: Stick (5): Lum, Fura, Snip, HH, Ada Elend Venture (2): Ark, Stick Night 6 has begun! It will end in about 22-23 hours on Monday 3 June at 9 PM EDT (-4:00 UTC). PMs remain open during the Night. Please abide by all restrictions on their use. Good luck! Player List:
  7. Era bent, aching at every joint, and knelt at the foot of one of her beloved plants. Water cupped in her hands carefully, she poured it gently onto the brown leaves, watching as they gratefully soaked in the moisture. She scowled. Not only had the Lord Ruler messed up her plants, converting them from green to brown, but now a spirit from the mists themselves had made off with her watering can. This was her solution until a new one could be procured—with Luthadel in the state it was, she suspected it could be a while. No matter. She had outlived old age, attacks from Spiked, the burning of her city. She would survive this as well. Reaching into the bucket at her side again and dousing her hands in the cool water, she felt a light tap on the shoulder. Spinning, she prepared to tap a concealed Pewter metalmind, but the mist spirit simply drew itself away from her, gazing at her curiously. In its hand, it held her silver watering can, and it gazed at Era with a bemused expression on its face. Feeling a surge of relief and joy, Era took the can with trembling hands, then let out a loud whoop of joy, uncharacteristic of her advanced years. Flicking some of the water at the spirit, which recoiled, she set out to the rest of her watering with a renewed vigour and joy. A small miracle, but the first she may have witnessed in decades. Then two figures descended on her deserted field. The first came walking, a long spear in his hand. He was garbed like a soldier, yet oddly carried a variety of small wooden statues at his hip. Their carved faces and forms stared at Era as the rarely seen Doma approached her at a constant speed, in no particular hurry. Era frowned. “Is something wrong, Doma?” “Yes, he answered simply. “My master has ordered your death.” Raising the spear, he slammed it into Era’s chest, and her eyes widened as she hit the dirt row in between her vegetables, tapping Pewter in a desperate attempt to gain the vitality she needed to fight the wound. “Do not...disturb my plantings...” she sputtered as her breath began to leave her. “Had enough...gardens ruined...by callous fools...” Her voice trailed into nothingness as she slowly slipped into unconsciousness, unable to recover from the initial shock of her wound. Doma regarded her for a second, and then gently moved her head off a small lettuce. She had deserved better. Still, orders were orders, and he did not have to like them to execute them. The second figure came flying, a small clip hitting the hardpacked earth as a trailing dark form appeared against the rising sun. Zane. Doma’s heart seethed with rage as the Mistborn descended, and he threw his spear at the flying Mistborn, seeking to impale him. Of all the places for that Mistborn to find him! Suddenly, the Mistborn changed course. Snatching Doma’s spear out of the air and twirling it around, he suddenly Pulled himself toward Doma, spear extended. The two hit the ground, Doma first, Zane’s weight driving his sturdy iron-tipped spear through his heart. As the man gurgled and choked, his life failing him, Zane stood and regarded the neatly planted rows around him, moving Doma’s body, which had fallen in a row of the hardened dirt which Era used as a path, into a more parallel position with the garden. He studied his nemesis’ face for another brief moment, then dropped another coin, soaring back towards the heart of the besieged city. Behind him, a garden stood untouched by the ravages of two conflicts—yet as their blood watered the soil under which they lay, the presence of Era and Doma was already departing that sacred place, leaving for other realms, and the protective hand of the gardener and the calloused hand of the soldier, both shielding and supporting in their own ways, would be gone perhaps forever. Elandera was attacked and killed! She was a Elend’s Loyalist Rioter 1! Rathmaskal was attacked and killed! He was a Subordinate Seeker 2 with an Inserted Hemalurgic Spike! Hemalurgic Spike: While a player holds this item, they may choose to Insert, Remove, or Pass the spike. While the Spike is inserted, the user gains the passive abilities of Thug 2 and Tineye 1, but cannot be Smoked. The extra life from Thug 2 may only be used once. Day 6 has begun! It will end in about 46-47 hours on Sunday 2 June at 9 PM EDT (-4:00 UTC). Please remember that PMs remain closed during the Day. There will be a lynch today, with no vote minimum required to kill. Good luck! Player List:
  8. Now when it was known that Zane had escaped from their grasp once again and pursuit was unavailing, Elend’s Loyalists remained long seated in darkness in the quiet of their rooms; but the Subordinates for the most part returned to their plots and mourned for the lost opportunity. Through the dim alleys of Luthadel mists drifted in from outside the city walls and mantled the storefronts, and the lamps and torches of many men began burning pale against the gloom of the setting sun. Then suddenly Senn Conrad appeared in the city and called on all to come to the courtyard of Keep Venture upon the summit of its highest turret; but the doom of banishment and exile that had been laid on him by Elend was not lifted, and he openly defied the Loyalists. The multitude gathered swiftly, therefore, to hear what he would say; and the turret and all the passages and walls of the Keep were lit with the light of many torches that each one bore in hand. Conrad was a master of words, and his tongue held great power over hearts when he would use it; and that night he made a speech to the Loyalists which they ever remembered. Fierce and fell were his words, and full of frustration and pride; and hearing them the Loyalists were stirred to madness. His wrath and his hate were given the most part to Astick, and yet it was with him and from him that well nigh all the words which issued from his mouth had their ultimate source; but he was distraught from grief from the slaying of his companion, and with anguish from the loss of his quartzite skull. He claimed now the leadership of all the Subordinates now that Zane the Mad was dead, and he scorned the decrees of Elend. “Why, O people of Luthadel,” he cried, “why should we serve the jealous Elend, who cannot keep us nor even his own city safe from the ravages of Mistborn? And though he be now their foe, was not his date and Zane of one kin? Vengeance calls me hence, but even were it otherwise I would not dwell longer in the same land with the kindred of my comrade’s slayer and of the thief of my treasure. Yet I am not the only valiant in this valiant people. And have not all ye lost a friend to this war? And what else have ye not lost, being cooped up in a narrow city between Straff Venture’s horde and an army of koloss?” “Here once was life, which Elend begrudged to Scadrial, but now death levels all. Shall we mourn here deedless for ever, a shadow-folk, mist-haunting, dropping vain arrows on an innumerable horde? Or shall we return to our lives? In Luthadel under the Lord Ruler ran sweet the flow of free commerce through plains unclouded with armies. Wide lands lay about, where a free people might walk. There they lie still, awaiting us who in our folly forsook them. Come away! Let the cowards keep this city and police its laws!” Long he spoke, and ever he urged the Loyalists to follow him and by their own prowess kill Astick and win great valour with the forces of Lekal. Yet recalling their separate callings Astick and Laila his supporter therefore spoke against Conrad, and fierce words awoke, so that wrath came to the edge of swords. Divided into two camps, the Loyalists arose; but though the split had seemingly been even, the influence of a few voices, spoken in underhanded tones in choice words, would prove the deciding factor. Conrad was therefore stripped of his vials of metal, and forced to burn aluminum in preparation for his execution, on the outskirts of the keep, there to throw him down from the sheer walls of the city. And Astick stood by and said nothing; but at the last Conrad cried out: “So you forsake your city and your kin, ill-gotten fiend! Here shall you fail of all your hopes, and here may you yet die the same death as I.” Then they cast Conrad over the walls of the Keep, and so he ended. Devotary of Spontaneity was lynched! She was Count Senn Conrad III! Vote Count:find it now? Devotary (6): Maill, Elandera, HH, Stick, Ada Stick (4): Lum, Fura, Devotary, Rath, Straw Night 5 has begun! It will end in about 22-23 hours on Friday 31 May at 9 PM EDT (-4:00 UTC). You have one more turn to find your items before they’re lost forever to the Hostile Mist Spirit. PMs remain open during the Night. Please continue to abide by all restrictions on their use. Good luck! Player List:
  9. Aname Plees took the stairs 2 at a time, leaving the poor doctor behind in his living room, yelling after her. He said it was the second door on the left. She skidded to a stop before it, just barely avoiding slamming it open. She breathed in, then opened the door quietly. "Oh hey Aname! Here to check up on me?" Aname exhaled loudly, and laughter bubbled up before she quelled it. Of course he was alive, the doctor had said he survived. "Hello Oramen. How are you feeling?" The older gentleman was sitting in a bed, bandaged almost beyond recognition, yet still beaming in the morning light. A long wooden pole had been tied to one arm in order to keep it straight, and it looked like his leg had the same treatment under the blanket. "Definitely been better. But I'm alive! That never happens!" She came all the way into the room and shut the door behind her. She walked over to his bed, hesitated as she realised she didn't want to hurt him on accident, then dragged a rickety chair over. "The Doctor said you walked all the way here from Tin Street?" She glanced at his leg again. It definitely had a pole strapped to it. Oramen nodded sagely. “And a long walk it was, but I couldn't die! I had to keep moving, had to Survive! Something protected me Aname." She settled into her chair backwards, leaning forward onto its backrest and looked him right in the eyes. “Tell me everything.” "So, late last night, we were all at the great inn, the one where Jenny accidently dropped a whole pot of soup on Marley, remember that? Anyway, Era jumped onto a table and said 'Yo dudes, we gotta find the Mistborn, and it's totally Doma, so everyone go kill him' and we all tried to! He had just been standing in the corner, but turns out, he was just a cardboard cutout! I didn't even know we had those yet!" Aname blinked. Cardboard? Yet? "But Era was like 'oh no he got away! Everyone go run around and chase him down, except me, because I'm an old lady!' So I grabbed that old dude Astick and say 'yo dawg, I bet Doma's hiding in the old Canal!' Oh hey, did you know that one of Astick's legs is made of wood? Pretty cool for an old dude. But he said 'no way, if Doma is a mistborn, he'll be high as a kite! We should check out the tallest rooftops in the city!' And I was like 'great idea man,' so we were on top of Keep Hastings. You know where that is right?" Oh, he was looking at her like he was waiting for something. This was difficult to follow. "Uh, how does he walk with a wooden leg?" "I know right? But so on the roof of the Keep, we saw a dude sleeping, and Astick was all like, 'haha found you now Zane! Now we're going to kill you!' But then the figure looked up, and we realized it was Zane, and we remembered, we're just like, an old guy with a wooden leg and a broke nobleman, and how were we gonna defeat a Mistborn? Oh hey, can I Borrow some money to pay the Doctor? I'll pay you back later." Aname nodded, still trying to process what he was saying. Wasn't Keep Hasting on Machmuller street? "Awesome, I owe you one! So Zane is like 'come on guys, I was taking a nap, I was having a great dream where my dad got eaten by dogs, and now I'm gonna kill you for waking me up!' And he grabbed Astick's wooden leg and ripped it off, which is how I learned it was wooden, and then he smacked Astick in the head with it! Knocked him right off the rooftop! He just went up and then down, screaming like he was dying or something! So Zane turns to me, and I'm just praying to someone, whoever, to save me, and then a door bangs open, and a dozen Lekal soldiers pour onto the roof to fight Zane! I'm thanking the Lord Ruler for sending soldiers to save me, but one of them sees me and shoves me off the roof as well! I fall through the mist, perfectly quiet cause I'm brave like that, and smash into a cabbage cart at the base of the keep. I'm laying there, and I can hear Astick right next to me, moaning about how in his day, kids didn't throw their elders off of roofs or whatever. But then we hear a voice, is real spooky, and it says 'Yo dudes, it's not your time to die yet, you gotta go tell everyone that Steeldancer reports that devotary is lying about being Conrad, and that his team believes that Hemalurgic headshot is Zane. Kill HH before you kill Mailliw. I have asked Young Bard if he role claimed, but he has not yet responded.' Then we walked here." "You walked here." Aname raised an eyebrow at him. "Astick was missing a leg, and you guys had both fallen from the roof of a Keep. But you walked here." Oramen nodded. "I think I deserve a Keep named after me, since I found where Zane sleeps ya know?" She nodded and stood, reaching forward to pat him.on the head. "I will go tell Elend to give you a Keep. You just keep resting. Okay? Okay good. Buh bye!" Introducing a New RP Challenge: So I realise that despite getting to do some cool writeups along with Joe (all credit to Joe here, by the way), I’ve not been giving you guys a ton of opportunities to interact with the story. Usually as a GM, I’ll have one character that I develop throughout, or I’ll do a pattern of writeups or something to keep RP coming, but I’ve been more inconsistent this game. So, instead...we’re going to have a little fun with this. I will now be commanding the Hostile Mist Spirit. This cycle, the Mist Spirit has decided to go around and steal a small, personal item from every player. Whenever I have time in this cycle, you will receive a PM that details the item you lost, with a short paragraph of RP along with it. Respond in-thread to the loss, in RP, with any potential plans to regain your item or a long contemplation on how you’re going to accept this loss (or anything else you want to do with it, if it makes sense to your character and to the story). I will give arbitrary points and awards to players who have good RP at the end of the game, up to and including small statues, Emerald Broams, and other assorted odds and ends. Most importantly, though, I just want you all to have fun with this and hopefully liven up the thread a bit more. Straw was attacked, but survived! _Stick_ was attacked, but survived! Day 5 has begun! It will end in about 46-47 hours on Thursday 30 May at 9 PM EDT (-4:00 UTC). There is a lynch today, with no vote minimum required to kill. Please remember that PMs remain closed during the Day. Good luck! Player List:
  10. Era leaned most of her weight on Astick’s bony shoulder as she carefully climbed onto the wooden crate. She settled herself, then accepted her cane as Astick handed it up. “Bless you sir.” Astick grinned a toothless grin and gave a little bow as he backed away. Era grasped the cane tightly before her, and stood ramrod straight. “We’re at an important crossroads here, so you young’uns listen up.” She waited as people began to quiet, elbowing others into paying attention. “Luthadel is beset by enemies, both on the outside and the inside. Lekal’s goons are running around in the Survivor’s mist, killing us left and right, and we have a group of Rogue Mistborn trying to kill them, mostly by killing any of us that even might be taking Lekal’s coin. We all have a few people we suspect have their pockets full, but that’s no longer the issue. We have to find the most dangerous of our enemies first, as they’ll be killing us the sooner. So I’d like to call a vote.” She raised her cane and pointed at three people. “Astick, Doma, and Varuun.” Astick, the nice old man started, and mouthed “but I helped you.” Varuun carefully made his way towards her, then stood with hands clasped, watching attentively. Doma leaned against the wall, making no moves. “I’m fairly certain, given everything we’ve seen since Lekal’s arrival, that one of those three is Zane the Mad. Does anyone disagree?” Amid the low rumbling of assent, Laila, the Noblewoman who had been so outspoken against Elend, stood up on her own table with the help of a servant. Era cursed under her breath. Anyone but her, please, let me die of old age before I hear that pretentiousness again. “I agree that the Mistborn must be hunted. And I would like to direct everyone’s attention to Varuun.” Everyone looked at the man, who looked back stoically. “Everyone has seen Zane the Mad before. He was used as a messenger when our ‘noble King’s Father arrived to assume his place. And yet, none of us can find a man who looks like Zane anymore.” She pointed dramatically at the man again, emphasizing her words. “This man can change his appearance faster than anyone I know. I once saw him duck into an alley, and come out with a different color of skin! He’s a master of disguise! Far more likely to be Zane than Astick!” “Hear hear!” Astick called out, shaking his cane at Varuun. Huh. That was actually somewhat logical, if hard to verify. “Well, I tend to agree. Varuun needs to go.” Snip and Makail both yelled out their agreement. Varuun cocked his head. “Why do you lie to defend Astick so much Laila? Are you so desperate to kill me? Did you not hear the excellent arguments posed by the honorable Era?” He turned and nodded to the old Terriswomen. “Your argument is correct madam. Zane is the greatest threat to everyone in this city, and out. Killing me would only hasten his slaughter of everyone in this building.” Era hesitated as the man’s eyes burned into her. But before she could say anything, Astick spoke up. “Laila is right, you heard her, Varuun is extremely suspicious, and needs to be killed before he kills anymore of us!” Era looked back and forth between the two of them. Varuun nodded his head, directing her gaze to Doma, still leaning against the wall, not intervening whatsoever. She made a snap decision. “It’s Doma. It’s definitely Doma.” Varuun turned to the room at large. “Doma is Zane everyone. Aname, Ford, will you help me restrain him?” Ford looked to Era, who nodded. He stepped up. “I will. We will deal with You and Astick later.” Aname slowly shook her head. “I think it’s Laila, I think she’s Vin. That’s why she dislikes Elend so much, she abandoned him.” Makail stepped up in her place, ignoring her words. “I’ll help.” The three strode purposefully towards Doma, who continued to not move. Ford and Makail both lunged forward, each grabbing an arm, Varuun was a step behind, and grabbed the man’s neck, slamming him backwards into the wall. The two dimensional body fell away, leaving each of them awkwardly holding an appendage. Varuun tilted the papery head of Doma sideways, then looked around the room, mouth agape. “What, what is this?” Ford knelt, and picked up the thin body. “It weighs practically nothing! Was he ever even here?” “Well no one just stand around!” Era’s shout snapped them to attention. “Don’t let him survive! Go out there and find him!” A Divine Image Cruelty has a human heart, And Jealousy a human face. Terror the human form divine, And Secrecy the human dress. I know you checked this Fura The human dress is forgéd iron, The human form a fiery forge, The human face a furnace sealed, The human heart its hungry gorge. —William Blake Rathmaskal was lynched, but survived! Vote Count: Rath (4): Elandera, Fura, Devotary, HH, Ada Devotary (3): Maill, Snip, Stick Maill (1): Lumthanks for vote consistency HH (1): Arkyou too Ark Night 4 has begun! It will end in about 22-23 hours on Tuesday 28 May at 9 PM EDT (-4:00 UTC). PMs remain open at Night. Please abide by all restrictions on them. Good luck! Player List:
  11. “...you let the assassin die.” Senn Conrad’s head swivelled around the basement where Lekal’s men were meeting. Blank stares greeted him for the most part, though a few newer members had slightly widened eyes at the edges from his tone. Good. They should all be quaking in terror for their blunders. He began again. “Do you honestly mean to tell me that you let Elend’s men simply execute the man we specifically hired to dispose of the rogue Mistborn?” His voice rose in intensity and anger. “The one with the best chance of killing the very threat which brought this entire operation down the last time I spearheaded it?” He flared his iron, sending a small deluge of coins and metal figurines hurling at his chest at terminal velocity. Of course, the hard wooden plate on his front easily withstood the objects, and they clattered to the ground in front of him. He picked up a coin, contemplating it for a moment. He then threw it to a surprised crewperson, who made a fumbling catch. “You think I run this operation because of the gold you pay me,” Conrad whispered. “I can get all the gold I wish for. I am part of your group for vengeance against those Mistborn and against the Venture usurper. Let Lekal’s army starve to death and consume itself outside the city! I care not. But I will not allow you all to fail this mission. It is too essential; we are the only ones with the power to neutralise the two great dangers of our time.” The same blank stares greeted him, though the wider eyes were more prevalent now. Conrad grimaced, feeling his anger flare up white-hot within him. Perhaps he would have to do it all himself. “Very well then,” he said. “Expect me back in a few hours.” Burning Iron and Pulling on a heavy metal bar fixed to a ceiling beam, Conrad soared in the air, his practice with Iron making him nearly as effective with movement as a Coinshot or Mistborn. He would seek his own targets tonight. Makail sat slumped over by his intricately constructed, interlocking tower of steel and iron. A true pity that nobody ever came close enough to one of his devious architectural inventions for him to see them work as intended. He supposed that nobody was going to come into the outskirts of Luthadel if they could help it; while high crime rates were a convenient myth, and kept plenty away from Makail’s dwelling, he’d figured that somebody would accost him eventually out of suspicion or treachery. But so far, his peace remained undisturbed. So he drifted back to sleep, not knowing of the two cloaked figures drawing steadily nearer with each dropped coin. Conrad had found the man he was looking for—Cadoxi, apparently a Thug judging by their bulging frame and the callous ease with which they handled their heavy sword. He was appropriate as a bodyguard, Conrad supposed, as he did now, standing protectively over somebody’s sleeping form. Well, it was none of Conrad’s business who the man shielded. It was just his job to kill him. Burning a mere trace of iron, the familiar blue lines cropped up in Conrad’s vision. Most of the metal sources were too heavy to move. It was not the case with the bag of clips Conrad had left directly behind the bodyguard, in a direct line to his current position. He smiled, adjusting his wooden breastplate, then closed his eyes and flared iron. A muted thud was all that announced Cadoxi as he hit the ground, fifteen holes in his torso. Ignoring the muffled cries of the sleeping form, which had just awoken, Conrad laughed as he sprinted away and then took to the air, Pulling on bars of iron to aid his flight. So Steel was the important external physical metal? Nonsense. He would break Luthadel with a rod of solid iron. Zane alighted softly on top of a small stone house, turning off his steel before making a gentle landing on its flattened roof. He looked down at the sleeping form of Makail, a soft smile bathing his face. All too easy, once again. The man expected nothing, and with Vin covering the path of his retreat, it would be a quick and harmless sting. Hopefully this would be another Spider. Flipping a coin between his fingertips, Zane flared his Steel, Pushing it towards the sleeping man. A slight creaking under his feet was all the warning Zane would get as the entire house came crumbling down from underneath his feet. Too shocked for befuddlement, Zane cried out in pain as his body hit the mass of stone bricks and iron bars below; meanwhile, with Zane’s position changed, the coin he shot flew wildly off-course, fading into the misty sky. That had hurt. Zane coughed, and was greeted with a handful of blood. Excellent. What was this contraption he had stumbled into? Seconds ago, it had been a sturdy stone house with metal supports; now, it lay in a heap of rubble. Likely Makail, who was now fled, had somehow designed it to trick Mistborn. Zane groaned. He had to get out of here before Day broke. Burning Steel, being careful to Push only on his coin this time, he shot towards Vin, chants of death circulating in his head as his wracked and injured form took to the skies. Cadmium Compounder was attacked and killed! He was a Elend’s Loyalist Thug 1! Hemalurgic Headshot was attacked, but survived! Day 4 has begun! It will end in 46-47 hours on Monday 27 May at 9 PM EDT (-4:00 UTC). There is a lynch today, with no votes required to kill a player. Please remember that PMs are closed at Day. Good luck! Player List:
  12. Somebody else is preparing a special writeup for Steeldancer’s death, and will likely deserve all the upvotes you can give them once he finishes. By virtue of its high quality, that will take a while, and in the meantime there’s an awful lot of blank space up here, and I don’t want to put “writeup to come.” It’s too simplistic, and does too little honour to a player I’ve known and respected for a year and a half. I am no Elbereth, to give Steel a depiction in language which reveals his inner tendencies and voice, though I wish such skills were mine—perhaps they will be, someday, but certainly to do so now in the span of little over an hour would be immensely difficult and beyond my current capabilities as a writer. However, before this game resumes and we all move on, I’d like to describe, in the ways I know best, the man you just lynched. If they are direct, without connotation, so be it. Steeldancer was my first taste of what SE was like. Really, the game I’m rerunning, LG41, was, but other than Seonid, who extended a welcoming hand and invited me to see what SE was like, Steel was the first to welcome me informally into this strange and bloody corner of the Shard. Despite fighting for his life as Zane in this very game, around cycle 3 when pressure was truly mounting, he carved out the time to send me a PM, though I’d posted once on the Shard total and was doing little other than stalking the Day and Night threads in which the game was occurring. Overcoming my doubts about following and joining SE, Steel’s PM, entitled “I see you lol,” would be a driving factor in my decision to join the AG and step out of the shadows into the broader community. If that was his only contribution to my presence and life on this subforum, that would already be plenty to earn him prominence alongside Seonid as one of the few who started me on the road to being a gentleman killer of SE. But his interactions with me didn’t stop there. AG4/AN1 was my first game, and as many of you know, Steel and I found each other despite the anonymity, quickly teamed up, and crushed the village in almost the minimum number of turns. The only catch is that we were both villagers ourselves. The hilarity of how we deceived ourselves into trusting almost all the Eliminators was not lost on either of us, and despite times when we both thought the other was evil, our misguided alliance only drew us closer together throughout that game. Steel was definitely the first friend I made on the subforum, largely as a result of this initial failure, and the utter destruction we wreaked on our own faction would ironically prove the beginning of a lasting relationship. Time would fail me to speak of our other alliances, which tested and reaffirmed this bond. Betrayal and death in LG42; a firm commitment and kinship in LG49, when we would stand together against hordes of Alethi demanding my blood; AG5, uniting our factions for a common purpose for one brief, shining moment, and when I would advocate for his death and Return. Many smaller moments in the LGs and MRs scattered between, PMs discussing small things, and a constant attempt to reform the original pact of AG4, the mutual trust at whatever cost which made games so interesting. And I’ve not even spoken of when we’ve interacted as GMs—Steel’s joined every one of my games, and I’ve been able to say the same about his (if you count IMing) except for this last MR, which saddens me, but I haven’t read Skyward and will need to finish this game up. I’m grateful to Steel that he’s done that, if only so I can troll him mercilessly (as I’ve done in this game ). He’s always a willing and enthusiastic player, no matter what role or alignment he is, and that’s a joy to see as a GM. It’s therefore somewhat striking, and saddening, that I’m about to lose all this. Certainly, I’m losing a close compatriot in SE, as I’ve detailed extensively above. But I’m also losing a part of the initial touch that brought me into the community; I’m losing a friend with whom I could discuss nearly anything; and I’m losing Steel’s optimistic attitude and constant excitement with the small wonders of the world, which helped bring about our friendship to begin with. These are the indelible aspects of Steel which cannot be adequately replaced, and which I will miss the most when he is off on his mission. To close this, Steel, I simply wish you safety and good fortune on your mission, and look forward to your safe return to us in two years. I thank you for your impact on my life, and doubtless your touch on the lives of others which is similarly profound. With all that said and done... Steeldancer was lynched! He was a Lekal’s Subordinate Assassin and Smoker 1! Vote Count: Steel (9): Maill, Elandera, Fura, Devotary, Rath, CadCom, Stick, Straw, Ark Stick (1): Steel Rath (1): HH Fura (1): Lumgol Night 3 has begun! It will end Saturday 25 May at 9 PM EDT (-4:00 UTC), in about 22-23 hours. PMs are open. Please abide by all restrictions on them. Good luck! Player List:
  13. The wizened, weathered man strolled down the ash-covered street, a slight grimace on his face. Eyes downcast, he did not bother knocking at the burnt-down door of the vacant library. A fine enough place to stay the night, perhaps search for something. It was therefore a surprise when the library door swung open of its own accord, by a man who looked slightly surprised himself by his actions. Jumae was somewhat used to it—he did have the special talent of Rioting, and used it almost subconsciously now. The man, instead of apprehending him, smiled, revealing a set of slightly yellowed and dirt-encrusted teeth, and started to ask about his business. That would not do. Jumae cut in. “Why does everything in this rusting city decay?” The doorkeeper shut his mouth quickly, but it was too late to hide his rotting teeth from everyone else who Jumae now realised was with him. One of those men had shaggy and decrepit hair, which Jumae took quick note of. So it was at that moment when everyone in the Library got confused when everything seemed to lose its decrepit state. Jumae, his eyes nearly closed, held up his cuticle, around which swirled a miniature cloud of dust and decay, going from a small size, then expanding into something considerable, then nearly enveloping his whole hand (side note, watch out for Stink’s small, medium and large Nalthis games coming soon!). “Now all shall be clean, even in this despairing night!” Jumae exclaimed, reminding everyone that although all had seemingly been restored to a new brightness, even in the dark, sound remained the same. Instantly, the room was enveloped in an uproar, the men in the library charging at Jumae. “But I needed that decrepit nature to continue my disguise, and fully deceive my audience!” the doorman cried, swinging a heavy staff at Jumae’s skull. “But my shabby, dirty hair! That took three months without the use of conditioners!” another assailant screamed, dealing a solid punch to Jumae’s jaw. “Hey, who swept this place since the fire?” some poor, deaf heanchman cried out while beating Jumae’s arm, unable to hear Jumae’s points of wisdom. Jumae simply laughed, or cackled if you thought he was evil. This was only the beginning of the lawlessness and terror in this godless city since the death of the Lord Ruler and the failure to recognise Elend. He knew there was much more coming; he could feel it in his fingers and toes, could hear it whispered to him as he slowly lost his grip on life...With a final flourish, Jumae pointed at the Doorman and bellowed out the words that came to him from that voice: “Less RP this time, more Precision: Don’t know if Mailliw is evil, just he always lies about how much he knows/how many pm’s he has. I told Coop and Lum that the other was a Lekal Subordinate to see if one would stay silent and kill the other. Gotta find the Mistborn somehow. I win if either the Mistborn wins with Vin still alive, or if the Village wins, and Zane died before Vin. I know of every possible secret role, but I have no clue which ones are in the game, and I won’t spoil Fifth scholar’s fun by telling you what they are or what they do. Each Night, I can post a 200 word message in the writeup, and a 5 word message in each player’s PM. My Document is the dead doc, so I can pass along messages from the dead. Randuir thinks Mailliw is Evil. I won’t reveal the rest of my abilities, since there are things you guys can do to me. (Please don’t) Also, I give anyone permission to RP Fynn Seidel. He’s a paranoid Worldhopper who really wants to kill the Mistborn and Elend.” Jumae then collapsed, dead, to the ashen floor of the library’s ruins. A faint cry, barely decipherable. Dedne sprang out of his semi-recumbent posture within his chair, eyes darting to the source of the yell. The old library, now just a heap of ashes. Who could be doing anything down there at such an hour of the night? Almost anyone, he reminded himself. You’re still cutting tomorrow’s fabric for your job, who knows what others may do? Dedne glanced around, looking for a weapon to use; from the increasing frequency of the cries—was that laughter?—he would need one. Wiping away a small puddle of drool with a grimace where he had fallen asleep, Dedne grabbed the nearest sharp object: the newly recovered Extra-Large Obsidian Scissors. He felt bad putting the object at risk after it had just been stolen, but he needed something If he was going to catch those Subordinates. Running out the front door, Dedne sprinted towards the library “doors,” pace quickening as he heard Jumae’s voice begin to utter cries seemingly devoid of meaning. He remembered them anyway, or at least tried to, as he rushed to apprehend the murderers. Other citizens were waking up as well by now, some in shock, and some clearly deeming what Jumae was saying to be of the highest importance. Dedne alone rushed towards the intruders, squinting to get a better view of their faces, blocked as they were by the injured form of his friend. He held the scissors aloft, ready to ompale any in his way. Immediately, the group stopped beating on Jumae, who was mortally wounded. Donning hoods quickly and sending the body towards Dedne with a well-timed Steelpush, the group withdrew, some more quickly than others, but all sprinting away. Seeing no choice, Dedne pursued, weaving left and letting the body skid to a halt on the loosely paved road. Through crowded streets full of nobility moving armies around, to the narrower alleys where skaa lurked, the chase continued, but one by one the Subordinates evaded him; they had not woken up mere minutes earlier, and fled with the speed of a hunted hart. Still, one man remained in sight, and was indeed more tired than Dedne himself. Excellent. He would catch one of Conrad’s gang this day. Taking a sharp left where the man had just ducked beyond the corner, Dedne faced a narrow alleyway. Pulling out his scissors again, he looked up; perhaps he had finally trapped the man. The two Mistborn stood in the dark passage, smiling. Dedne tried to duck, but four coins lacerated his chest, dropping him instantly beside the dead Subordinate who had met the same grisly fate. Dedne heard voices, as if from the end of a long tunnel. “Well, Vin, did we get two spiders or just the one?” “One, I think,” Vin replied. “Look—he was pursuing the other, and shows no markings of Lekal’s.” Through a dim mist, Dedne saw the Mistborn bend, muttering something more, but she was too far off to make anything out. Perhaps he would...sleep again. Yes, that sounded wonderful. Dedne’s dead body fell forward into Vin’s arms, a testament to the will of Elend’s men—and of their paucity. STINK was attacked and killed! He was a Elend’s Loyalist Rioter 2! Xinoehp512 was attacked and killed! He was a Elend’s Loyalist Smoker 1! Day 3 has begun! It will end in 46-47 hours, on Friday 24 May at 9 PM EDT. There will be a lynch today, with no vote minimum. Please remember that PMs are closed during the Day. Good luck! check LG24!Jumae Player List:
  14. “Are we sure we want to be putting any trust in the words of a dying kandra, and whispers that we only thought we heard?” Needa held her hands out, as if waiting for the answer. “There’s no literature on the subject of the mist speaking to us, but there is literature on the subject of those under a lot of stress experiencing auditory hallucinations.” “The church of the Survivor teaches us that the Mists were claimed by the Survivor after his Ascension.” Aname stepped forward, gently stroking a silver pin shaped as a spear. “I believe that these voices are true, that the Survivor of Hathsin speaks to us even now, telling us what we must know in order to survive.” There were murmurs of agreement from the crowd. Needa resisted rolling her eyes as the superstition. Her whole life, she had been raised to believe that The Lord Ruler was god. Obviously, he had been lying. He was just a powerful man who took control. Now that he was dead, people were looking for a new god. "You really believe that Kelsier wants you to kill Heer Kilyal, an owl, in order to survive the army of Koloss." There was more hesitation now, but Aname nodded. Needa rubbed her forehead and turned to go. "I'm not going to participate in this tomfoolery. I'm going home." She ignored the gasps of indignation from behind her. She had heard the same whispers they had, and was pretty sure it was imagined, possibly a result of a enemy Rioter inflaming their paranoia and fear. Actually, that was a good theory. She could probably find some evidence of that in the old histories, and show people that they needed to be hunting a rogue Misting, not searching for a new God. She took the steps up to the Library two at a time, sparing no time as she hurried to the histories. She pulled one down from the shelf, skimmed its chapter headings, then grabbed another. Then a treatise on Allomancy. Then a treatise on Inquisitors. Almost two glorious hours of uninterrupted studying later, there was a crash and a woosh from the front door. She dropped her book and ran for the entryway. It was on fire. The front door was down, and fire was consuming the long carpets, tapestries, and furniture. Outside, she could hear a large crowd chanting, “Death to the non-believer! Kelsier died for us, and Survived that death! Kill those who impugn his glorious name!” There were more crashes from deeper in her library, and Needa knew she would not be escaping this. There was nothing else she could do. Senn Conrad III stood out with the jeering mob of Survivorists in the late twilight hours, surrounding the library of Needa Naime. So that was where that skaa girl had been hiding herself all along. Among rows and shelves of books—not the typical hiding place for an inferior peasant. Though was she skaa? The former occupants had been illiterate, and perhaps a much better man, so anything was possible. Conrad dismissed the thoughts from his mind. He had more important things to focus on here. Namely, some inconvenient rumours that Lekal’s men could be traced back to documents in the very building held under seige by the Survivorists. As he stood in thought, one particularly inspired Survivorist leapt to his feet. “We need to break in there and give the heretic that runs this place a taste of the Survivor’s true power!” Some of the mob roared assent. Conrad smiled thinly. A perfect chance to rid Luthadel of its records which might trace him—mobs could be useful like that. Donning his hood, he projected his voice, using a trick he had learned to make it carry just above the hubbub of excited voices. “Burn her out! Take down this symbol of apostasy!” There was a brief pause, and some of the crowd around him took up the chant hesitantly. Conrad bellowed again, clear and loud. “Burn her out! Death to the unbeliever! Death!” The chant was spreading now. Soon, nobody would recall its source. Which was all the better for him. Secrecy of identity was necessary for their mission. And another obstacle to that secrecy had been removed; the mob had already lit torches and begun their work. Taking one last glance into the freshly kindled flames which dotted the roof of the library, and which were starting to consume the building, Conrad stood aside, fading back into the emerging mists. Soon, nothing would stand in his way. Not even that Mistborn. “Is it Kelsier?” Elend looked around the hall, meeting the eyes of each of the Survivors former crewmembers in turn. “I’ve heard lots of myths about the man, but none like this. I know he had that Kandra, OreSeur, impersonate him after his death, but by all accounts, this is something else.” Dockson leaned forward onto his elbows and clasped his hands together. “I’ve know him the longest, and I’m quite certain that if the dead could speak to the living, Kelsier would be the one to figure out how to. But,” he raised his arms and shrugged, “I’m open to other options.” “Well, whatever this mistspirit is, Vin mentioned seeing it before she was taken.” Elend turned around and began to pace, pointedly ignoring the looks the others shot each other. “I believe it is real. If it can actually communicate with the dead, then we need to figure out how to talk to it. There are plenty of secrets that the dead can tell us.” “You’re talking about the Lord Ruler’s Atium stache?” Elend looked back and gave a tight smile. “Breeze’s plan notwithstanding, I’d still like to bribe the armies to go away. It’ll be easier than hunting down all their agents in the city.” Hammond cleared his throat and stood up, “Speaking of, there was another riot today. Ms. Naime was killed. Her library was burned down with her inside. We need to maintain order in the city. I don’t think we can waste time ghost hunting.” “On the contrary my dear Ham,” Breeze pointed, “if it is Kelsier, Vin will obey him. If we get Vin back, she can rally the people behind him, Ascendent Warrior and all, and order and morale will be restored.” “If he deigns to support our noble led government.” said Dockson. “If.” Arraenae was lynched! She was the Librarian! Vote Count: Rae (7): Elandera, Fura, Xino, Devotary, Steel, Rath, CadCom CadCom (2): Coop, HH Maill (1): Lum, Stink Rath (1): Stick Xino (1): Maill Night 2 has begun! It will end in about 22-23 hours, on Wednesday 22 May at 9 PM EDT (-4:00 UTC). PMs are currently open. Please remember all rules regarding the use of PMs; namely, make sure that I am in all of them, that they are only one-on-one, and that you refrain from PMing anybody who is not living and on the player list. Enjoy flooding my inbox again.