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Found 30 results

  1. Here we go again. I've found a way to copy over the old Geo Tracking Map to my new one, which I can edit. I'll also try and find a way to make some other people moderators of the map, to keep it updated in case something happens and I forget about it. Anyhow, I talk too much. Linky. (Please note: The original map I borrowed was updated more than a year ago. Many of the newer members will not be here.) List of Sharders by Country/ Continent will be upcoming whenever I can be bothered. Please, tell me who I've missed. (Especially tell me if you want admin rights.) Restriction to be on the map: You must have at least 10 posts and have been around at least 1 fortnight. Otherwise, we'll have a heap of people nobody's heard of. Sorry. Admins to the map: The Young Bard (PM me if you have any problems) Honor Spren Curious Anaximder (formerly Venture Mistborn) Darkness Ascendant Bleeder ccstat
  2. 12th of Scholus, 19 ATR Bellatrix Deathstrike, The Dark Angel, ex-Bureau member, the former Dark Phoenix, strolled down the street. She wore white robes, cut off at the arms. She shivered, then opened the door to the shop. It was labeled Tanner's. She smirked, putting the crown of fire in her hair. They would remember her anyway, might as well go all out on the drama factor. She stepped up to the counter, and leaned against it, holding a glass of port and sipping it. "I'd like to talk to Beau." Her smirk widened. "I want to buy some jewelry for Little Red." The man standing there nodded at her. "I am he. You got anything for me in return?" She grinned, setting down the port. "I do, in fact." Bellatrix reached down to her pockets, pulling something from each. In one hand was a knife, made of three vinelike strands of metal woven together. "The knife of a prominent gang leader, now dead. Each strand of metal is a soulspike reshaped." In her other hand was a coppermind with some aluminum and nicrosil attached. "This is an unsealed coppermind. The full lifetime of a scholar of the lives of the Alleycity." She grinned. "I hope that is acceptable?" The man's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, then reigned the shock back in. She slid a note across the counter, which had ink written all over it. "Take care of this. I may be back someday." She grinned, waved, and walked out of the shop. @ZincAboutIt
  3. Acacia Smedry walked into the office, whistling. Her interview with the Scholar's Guild woman had apparently gone uncommonly well. Truth be told, Acacia had not expected to get this job. The Guild person was probably desperate for employees to be hiring a Smedry to do desk work. She looked around the office critically. It seemed like a standard workplace, from what little experience she had with standard workplaces. Desks were scattered about, and a printing press clanged in the other room. She was pleasantly surprised to find that she had her own little room in the back, with a plaque on the door that read "Editor". She nodded, staring around the room, and set to work. The first thing she did was flip the "now hiring" sign in the window upside-down. A cliched move, it was true, but one that would really bother some people. Then she shoved a few desks so that their corners jutted into doorways, and switched all the chairs. Whoever had stocked this place hadn't bothered to get a matching set of furniture, so it wasn't hard to arrange all the chairs to be the wrong sizes for their respective desks. As a final touch, she pried off the "Editor" sign from her door and stuck it to the break room. There was more to be done, of course, but this would be a good start. She sat on a desk by the door and began to watch for the arrival of other employees. (I'm going to tag everyone in the PM so that it's possible to find this thread) @Sorana @Gears @Arlin @AonEne @Voidus @Ashbringer @Invocation @MetaTerminal
  4. Tena sat at the receptionist's desk of her and Syen's new clinic, bored. For all the good boredom did her. She had figured that owning a hospital would be at least a little fun and exciting. But the facts were now clear; all she and Syen did all day was listen to people complaining about ear aches or brain tumors or something else boring. All Tena and her colleague did was heal things instantaneously or Syen would use her magical-seeming herbs to help people with injuries that Stormlight couldn't heal. The Ghostbloods were always popping in to either offer Tena poisons or get healed out of suspicious injuries. TUBA members just kind of showed up to say things like, "If a certain incident regarding the next Ghostblood who comes here was to happen, you and your compatriot might find a substantial donation given to you unexpectedly...." Tena always told them, no, we can't be a successful business if people start dropping dead at our feet, at which the person giving the offer would stomp off, muttering to themselves. Tena found a sense of chagrin every time she did this, though not much of one. Syen was heading down the stairs as Tena started to pick up a book to pass the time. Then someone slammed the door open....
  5. Mac stood next to the front door in number 12 Donovan Avenue. After about 3 months of hard work he had bought and renovated an old brownstone, turning it into a boarding house for various citizens of the city. He peeked his head out the window, grimincing when he saw the damage outside. Even in one of the better protected parts of the city, it was still a mess. There were only 10 rooms, so not enough for everyone who needed help. But maybe he would be able to provide a shelter for a few people, and give them a little help. A little protection was better than none. Moving to his office, he sat down at his desk, hoping that people would show up. ===========
  6. Cassandra Adama's Metallurgic Emporium For all your Allomantic, Feruchemical, and Metallurgic needs Open Hours 8:00 AM to 8:00 PM Monday through Saturday *New location of Poller's Sweets and Treats* :-:-:-:-:-: :-:-:-:-:-: Cassie wheeled her cart of supplies back to her shop, a small, two-story spot within one of Alleycity's larger shopping complexes. Cassie had had a long day, out selling various metals, shopping, and Soulcasting. She deserved a bit of a break. She dragged her cart up the two steps and into the building. Inside was the wonder that she had built. A sizeable lobby, with various metal implements and empty metalminds on rotating displays accross the room. Steel bracers. Aluminum swords. Even a small display of the finest electrum jewelry. On the right-hand side stood a workbench with her metallurgists' equipment: a small anvil, several tools, a large set of heavy casts, large ingots of steel, even a smelting oven. On the left-hand side sat her and Poller's little experiment: a candy corner. It had evidently already got some visitors tonight. In the back, there was the main desk, and the main attraction: ten massive mixing tanks embedded in the wall, each containing a well-suspended solution of Allomantic metal flakes. Iron, Steel, Tin, Pewter, Copper, Bronze, Zinc, Brass, Aluminum, Duralumin. The remaining six were in smaller containers within the desk itself: Gold, Electrum, Cadmium, Bendalloy, Chromium, and Nicrosil were too valuable to keep in large quantities. At the desk, slouching in a chair, sat Poller, her new assistant. He snapped to attention as the bell in the door way rung. "Welcome to Cassandra Adama's Metallurgic Emporium! We can supply any metals, be it decorative or industrial, Allomantic or Feruchemical, Soulcast or natural! What can I do for you?" he recited. Then he looked up. "Oh. Hello, Ms. Adama. I thought you were another customer," Poller said abashedly, sinking back into his chair. "It's quite all right, Poller. And call me Cassie; everyone does," she replied, giggling slightly. Poller may not be a master businessman yet, but he certainly had the heart for it. Something about him just broke down any cold exterior she tried to show - he was just so kind and sweet, like the candy he sold. "Now, let's get this shop a little cleaner. I have a feeling we're going to have a lot more customers tonight." Store Catalogue:
  7. Laonin walked through the Alleycity. Since becoming both literally homeless and one of the Homeless, he had been looking for a suitable place to claim for his own. He had come across many people in this strange place, from the DA to TUBA to any other number of other Homeless. He tried to mind his own business for the most part, as getting involved only seemed to end in death and despair. He hadn't been here long but for the time that he had, he had heard rumors of a great war which had happened in the past that threatened this entire place. A war which it still seemed to be recovering from. He passed ruined buildings, people huddled in corners, and others who rushed from place to place, either needing to be somewhere or needing to be away from somewhere else. There were of course many powerful people in this city. They went about their business, doing important things in important places with important people. Running around waving magic circles in the air, or shining bright with some inner light, or getting into fights with other people. Of course when fights between powerful people happened, those around without power seemed to suffer even more. Most of the people in this place seemed more concerned with trying to spike unsuspecting travelers with sweet delights, or trying to stop the people doing that, or creating strife between guilds. That isn't to say there weren't people out there trying to serve the greater good. There was at least one hospital set up that he had seen, but the care that had been given to most residents of the Alleycity was lacking in his opinion. Buildings had been left in rubble, people without homes. Countless dead caused by power hungry people with no care for the common folk. As far as Laonin could tell there was no central government to this city, and that meant there was no one keeping chaos in check, or rebuilding what had been lost here. He walked up to a ruined building he had been studying for several weeks. It seemed as though during the 7 day war it had been destroyed by flying rubble from an explosion in the distance. He had explored as much of it as he could get to, and had asked the few remaining denizens of this area for as much detail as they could remember. He pulled out his toolkit and set to work once again, carving into soulstone. He would restore this building, and hopefully with it at his disposal he could continue to restore the ruined parts of this city to their former glory. He took the soulstamp he had been working on for weeks, now finally finished, and pressed it to the cornerstone. The seal sunk into the stone, and he could almost feel the building trying to determine if his work was good enough for it to allow the change to happen. Suddenly the ruined building before him was replaced with a sturdy, well kept forge. "Well, that took long enough," Laonin muttered, "I should have just tried telling the darned thing the explosion missed it in the first place. Of course it still wanted to be in working order!" Wiping his hand on his pants, Laonin walked through the now intact doorway, surveying what he saw before him. The building seemed well built of course, one of the reasons he had chosen it in the first place. Something that had been created well was all the more likely to want to return to the vision its maker had had for it in the first place. He walked over to the anvil, and was pleased to see that the rust which had previously been coating its surface was now gone. It seemed it had considered itself a part of this place, and when the roof had repaired itself, came to the conclusion that the rains wouldn't have been able to reach it. It was a decently sized room, with lots of hooks and shelves on the walls for tools and equipment. Most of those were missing, either destroyed or looted by people trying to scrounge for valuables. That suited him just fine, he preferred to use his own tools anyway. Now to get himself situated. ----- A sharp ringing sound echoed out the front door, almost like the beating of a heart, a sign that this place had come back to life, and once again its blood was pumping. Laonin stood over the anvil, beating a hunk of metal with his hammer, forcing the impurities out of it. He did this for the time it took for the metal to start cooling and then shoved it back in the forge to heat up again, piling more charcoal on it. While it heated he perused the room, taking in the changes he had made to it the last few weeks. He had moved all of his belongings in, meager as they were, and the place had an almost homey feel to it. He had of course been concerned that the building would relapse into rubble, but after the first night passed without incident came to the conclusion that he had been correct in his assessment that the building wanted to return to its intended purpose. He had since been refitting his tools, as they had been through some tough wear and tear since his last chance to repair them. He had also been making good use of one of his soulcasters, converting some nearby rubble into iron with which to forge. Some would argue he could have simply soulcast it into steel directly, and cut out the purifying process, but he never really trusted a fabrial to do what he could do on his own. He trusted his own hands. Thankfully there was still a supply of charcoal in the back room, as it had been blocked off previously from looters by the rubble. He didn't quite have the skill with a soulcaster to create coal. Plus he had heard that excessive use of soulcasters could have ill effect on the nerves, so he tried to avoid it as much as he could. Which meant he would need to find a way to keep his metal supplies stocked. Something for a different day, he concluded, as he retrieved the now glowing metal from the forge and continued to hammer it into steel. After several hours of hard labor, Laonin cleaned and hung his tools on the wall, and put the forge to rest, to be reawakened tomorrow. He then ate some dinner in the sparse living quarters on the second floor, and set out, toolbox in hand. He had found his next renovation project, a tall building which seemed to have been crushed by something large, given the enormous footprint left nearby. While most of the building was destroyed, the first floor was relatively intact, and housed several families of people who had nowhere else to go. He spent the remainder of his day inspecting the building for damage, taking note of anything and everything that could affect structural integrity once it was repaired. Thankfully there seemed to be some records of what this building had looked like before its destruction, which made his task a whole lot easier. As he was working a rugged looking woman approached him. "What are you doing?" she asked, looking at Laonin making measurements and writing down notes on a sketch pad. "I'm trying to determine how easy this mess will be to clean up. This building used to be able to house a dozen families comfortably, near as I can tell. Now there's a handful lying about in the dirt, and with the holes in the walls it can't be much warmer in here that out there anyway." Laonin replied. The woman looked surprised for a moment. "You mean you're going to rebuild this. Where will we stay when you tear it down? Do you know how few buildings there are with even this much room? Why not build somewhere else that won't disrupt those few living here, and let us be." she said turning away. "I don't intend to tear it down, I'm simply going to fix it where it stands. And seeing as how there doesn't seem to be anyone barging in with deeds of ownership, you'll be first in line to claim housing once it's done." The woman stopped and turned back toward Laonin, a flicker of hope in her eyes. "Really? You're really going to fix it? Why would you do that?" she said, a hint of suspicion in her voice. Despite the hope she felt, her life had been hard enough to know no one would do something like this without a reason. "In my opinion, this place has seen enough power hungry men to last an eternity. I figured someone needed to step up and fix the damage they've caused. I know one man can't fix everything. But even if I only help one person, then that's good enough for me. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to continue with my work." he said, turning back to the wall. The woman looked at him for another moment, the flicker in her eyes warming to an ember in her chest. She turned and went to talk with a group huddled nearby. Some didn't react but the rest watched this dwarf of a man continue to work. Not knowing what to do, they continued doing what they had been, surviving. After doing a preliminary assessment of the building, Laonin headed home. Strange, he thought, only a short time here and I already think of it as home. Have I really been so desperate for some stability? Arriving back at the forge he let himself in, and locked the door. He climbed the stairs to his small bedroom, and after changing, lay down in bed. He let out a deep sigh. Tonight he would sleep well. He finally had a goal, and the means to see it through. Turning onto his side, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. --------
  8. Darien rushed into the emporium. several customers and store attendants stood around the large room. it was just as Darien remembered it. when he stepped on it the squeaky plank made the same noise as he remembered it. one of the attendants walked over to him, "welcome to the Grels Emporium! all items with the red tag are fifteen percent off!" Darien ignored him and walked over to the back end of the store. such memories. it seemed his early life played out infront of him. Him and Elek had played in that corner, his parent's piano had been right there where one of their attendants had played it. Elek whispered, "whoa, this place is almost exactly the same." Darien ignored him too. he was to busy looking around, he began to tear up. the room swam before him right before he collapsed... _________ (new scene) The first thing Darien noticed was the gentle purr of voices talking swiftly. he groaned, his back ached, had he collapsed? evidently he had. Elek's voice was noticeably absent. huh. Darien cracked open his eyes. two store attendants were talking hurriedly to eachother, one was saying, "what should we do?! he just outright collapsed in front of us!" "I dunno," said the other, tall and weedy looking, "maybe we should take him to a hospital." "don't" said Darien, standing up. the two jumped back, "I am fine. I will leave now." Darien walked to the door, leaving the two bewildered attendants behind.
  9. The building was large; three stories with a flat roof, the bricks washed a bright white. It was shaped like a giant cube, of equal dimensions on every side. Over the ironwood double doors that guarded the only entrance to the building menacingly was an enscription scrawled in splattered, crimson paint: The Bleeding Spike. Damon strolled into his tavern and looked around, nodding with satisfaction. The interior of the building had a low ceiling, of the same wood as the doors, with an expansive floor to match. There was a neat row of tables every three meters. The chairs were of low quality, for he had spent most of his money on every other part of the tavern before purchasing the seats. A massive oak bar wrapped around three walls of the room, the one at the far end well stocked with alcahol, that being one kind of saphire wine, two types of whiskey, thin ale, and a cheap red wine. The bar on the left contained assorted swords and daggers from the cheapest stainless stiletto to the finest aluminium-edged longswords. The bar on the right had scores of firearms stocked behind it on racks. The third wall had a stage for performers and executions next to a staircase to the rooms above. Damon smiled...alcahol and deadly weapons, the perfect mix. He was tired of life on the run and felt that there was nothing he would ever rather do than spend his remaining years a barkeep. He went back outside and pasted a poster that read "NOW OPEN AND HIRING" onto the bright wall. MENU* 1. CHEAP WINE PORT 2 C 2. HIGH QUALITY PORT 4 C 3. SAPPHIRE WINE 4 C 4. CHEAP WHISKEY 3 C 5. 15 YEAR AGED SINGLE MALT WHISKEY 5 C 6. DARK LAGUR 2 C 7. LIGHT LAGUR 2C 8. FIREARMS- INDIVIDUAL PRICE LISTINGS. 9. EDGED WEAPONS - INDIVIDUAL PRICE LISTINGS 10. ROOM FOR THE NIGHT - 100 C** *25% discount for members of the Ghostbloods. **Clips He threw open the doors and ran to the bar, where he waited, patiently. After all, if his tavern suffered the fate of a certain other tavern, he would be altogether destitute.
  10. I just thought of a easy explanation of why Shards get tied to loactions. Let me know what you guys think! Premise: Investiture is "self" Shards are everything in the Cosmere. All energy, matter, etc... is them. Any direct creation or investment done by them is just effectively making them a body. And just like a human mind/soul is tied to its physical body. A Shards self is tied to its "body"(whatever they've created/invested) in the physical That means,as an example, that Scadrial was/is the literal body of Ruin and Preservation. And whenever they were in the Physical/cogntive realm doing work(as Shards reside mostly in the Spiritual) they were tied to their body just like a human is. To leave they would have to destroy their body(which was exactly RuinAti's plan before he died)
  11. A lone fisherman sits in his boat, line cast in the water. He slowly turns the knob and pulls out a small fish. He rows back to the dock and puts it in a bucket with others. There are many there and soon he'll retire for the day. Nearby, there are a few small shops, a center park with benches, and the long dock extending to sea. In the distance, there is the faint outline of a ship - design unknown. Some considered it a mirage, others an island. Either way, it hadn't come closer in the recent future, leading most to dismiss its presence. The fisherman gets back in his boat and starts to eat his lunch. ---------------
  12. At the end of an Alleyway, a nondescript building a haphazard sign hung above the door. Anarchy Incorporated Bringing down organisations Inside the building, there is a desk, and behind that desk, there is a swivel chair that spins around to reveal a person wearing a dark brown trenchcoat, scuffed boots, a feathered tricorne hat, a faded scarf, hobo gloves, and a black cloak. The outfit would have looked strange on anyone else, but somehow this individual pulled it off. A metal nameplate indicates that this person is named "The Anarchist".
  13. An ordinary sized building with a set of columns flanking the door. The building has seen better days, but a sign above the door looks new. The sign reads: Library of the Alleyverse A collection of every book ever* Anyone can check out any book** *This is a goal, and not yet reality. In order to achieve this goal, anyone entering the library will be relieved of any books in their possession, which will copied down and returned in one hour. **Checking out a book requires forfeiting your soul and becoming a curator of the library. Inside is a extremely large room, with much more space inside than the exterior would suggest. The entire thing is a maze of bookshelves, and it is easy to get lost. Fuji floated through his library sorting books, the flames in his eyes burning happily. Placing the last book on the shelf, he swiftly flew through the front of the library. He appeared out on the street, startling several passersby. Pulling an OPEN sign from his voluminous sleeve, he stuck it on the wall by the door. The neon lights flickered and then started glowing. Fuji went inside to make flyers as he waited for people to arrive.
  14. A little shop. Above the door, a wooden sign subduedly claims: The Silbershire Don't break anything or face our wrath Don't presume to know what something will do Something leaves the shop unpaid, and it will be forcefully retrieved If you can't find something, talk to the clerk, I will get you anything for a price Don't even dare bring fire into the shop, if you value breathing. The inside of the shop is not much better organized than the alley outside. Disorderly and crammed with outlandish inventions, it is a place of nooks and crannies, where everything seems part of a single, big and awkward body of wood and metal. Through the maze-like confines of the shop, stands a desk. Behind the desk is Lord-son-son-son-Silberfarben.
  15. Erlend looks up from his work and out the window, there’s a class in the recreational area at the moment. They seem to be practicing Steelpushing, though they aren’t very successful. With a smile he turns away from the window and looks back at the plans. Shae has made them, he had found out that we where originally going to have walls and he had made a stamp to change the entire complex into a fortified castle. He looks up and Shae, who was waiting for Erlends approval, “I think it’s fantastic, though I hope it never has to be used.”
  16. inactive

    There is no more Tavern.
  17. In the maze of Alleys there were many alleys that stood out, many incomprehensible or astonishing sights could be seen. Nestled inconspicuously amongst them was one Alley unlike any other. No creatures from realms beyond imagining stood here, no doorways to laboratories or quarters. The ground was composed of featureless slabs of gray cobblestone, a scattered pattern that seemed to repeat itself after a short while as though 10 square meters of ground had simply been copied and then reused over and over again. Repeated endlessly in each direction as the Alley seemed to extend infinitely. Jutting out from this repetitive floor stood stone walls, comprised of similarly drab bricks. These walls stood nearly a hundred meters apart making this appear more an enormous room or courtyard than an Alleyway. The walls soared into the skies, continuing on until they seemed to converge in a single point far overhead and blocking all light from entering in from the outside. In one place in this alley stood a solitary wooden cart, a platter laid upon its surface, an assortment of cookies stood upon it, still seeming warm in spite of the lack of anyone present to keep them so. A small lantern hung from this cart providing a faint illumination that was the only source of light to be found. The first of the Alleys was rarely used, kept more as a momento of history than anything. A reminder of a time long ago when even the DA had been young. Its stillness and silence had been left for a long, long time. But suddenly the sound of echoing footfalls proceeded down the Alley, a lone figure walked down the path, trailing one hand against a wall in a brief bout of nostalgia. The figure quickly shook its head however, pulling its hand away and walking briskly over towards the cart. No time for dwelling on the past. Voidus chided himself fiercely. Times are changing. First full meeting we've had in... Voidus cast his mind back. When had they last had a full meeting of the DA? Not since before the Stranger had left at least. Possibly not since the Stranger had first joined, back when the number of Denizens could be counted on one hand, working enthusiastically out of a small number of labs. Back when Voidus had participated so actively in all of their research, when he'd strode around the world, actually interacting with people. When had people started treating him as something else? When had they started to call him a god? When did everything change? He shook his head once more, reminding himself again to keep his mind present. "These times are changing as well." He reminded himself. "No more holding back. Time for action." He tilted his head to one side until he felt a satisfying crack. Then stood in the small circle of light, awaiting the rest of the denizens of the Dark Alley.
  18. The building is on a street corner. It’s old, and slightly dilapidated, but the neon red sign out front lights up the dark street like a lighthouse in a storm. There isn’t a bouncer at the front entrance, this isn’t that kind of club. Besides, there’s too many off-duty precursors and Maria hitmen there to try anything. The front door is simple, betraying the club’s origins as a ordinary house, though now it has become anything but ordinary. The door opens into a wide dimly lit room, with a bar on the left wall and rows of tables on the right. Throughout the room there are billiard tables, almost always occupied. The bartender, nicknamed Jack, built the club from nothing but a debt owed by a contractor and Mafia blood money. It’s now the most popular club in the slums of Alleycity, especially for the criminal underground. They come here often, and the precursors often turn a blind eye. Money and drink, two of the great equalizers. In the back right corner of the Jack, there’s a set of stairs, rarely climbed, and cleaned even less. If you climb them however, things get a bit more interesting. The stairs come to a small hallway, with 2 doors on the left. It’s the second of the two that matters. The first is a lawyer’s office of some sort, the name on the front faded away years ago. The second door has the words Ace Tawson, Private Eye written on it. The paint is fresh, as he’s only moved in there a few months ago. His office is small, 4 meters by 4 meters, and the cramped feeling is an enhanced by the lack of lighting, for a tin savant need so little, and walls covered in large, intimidating bookshelves, the only blank space being reserved for a large bulletin board. His desk is towards the back of the room, placed such so that it hides the old mattress behind it. It’s hard to afford a place like this, and the strain of expenses can be seen in the coat with many a patched bullet hole, and the 2 days old Rosharan takeout sitting on the desk. The private eye needs a case, and soon. As he looks over various police reports and files, hoping to find a case hidden in there, the only emotion that fills his mind is despair. The chorus of screams in his head may in reality be only a low whine, but that is often when they are the most loud. He picks up the last file, examining it. It’s recent, only a few days old, and it says something about how a man has been broken out of the State Penitentary. He puts it down quickly, its clear that those responsible would be caught soon. Itsonly as he stood up to grab the remainder of the takeout that he sees something that catches his eye. The identity of the man who was freed. Ace had worked on that case, back when he was still in the force. Even for as experienced as he had been with horrible sights, the crime scenes that that serial killer had created had been shockingly terrible. To think that such a man was free. Ace starts, then quickly stands, pushing aside the rest of the files, picking up the one about the crime, and stepping over the remains of previous meals to get to the bulletin board. He pins it in the center, then goes back to files, pouring over them now with a different purpose, as he knows what his case is. He’s looking for mentions of one man, and one man only. James Myriad
  19. Debbie Willow approached the ornate gates of Art’s Haven with a lively step. The two guards on either side recognized her immediately opening the gates as she approached. She flashed them a smile as she entered the courtyard before her place of work. The courtyard was paved with white tiles that almost seemed to glow with the rising sun. Art’s Haven was beautiful. The tall building (5 floors altogether) was lined with marble pillars that were carved with fanciful beasts. The roof was tiled with a multitude of bright colors, making it look like a rainbow dwelled there. Two fountains bubbled happily, joyously on either side of the walkway leading to the magnificent building. Debbie loved those fountains. They, as was everything here, beautiful. Twin statues stood atop their pedestals one hand upraised as if to summon a shardblade their posters betraying strength and nobility. They were of Knights Radiants one male the other female both dressed in stunning shardplate. A clever use of heating fabrials inside their upraised hands created steam so it seemed that you were actually seeing their shardblades form. Water flowed down the statues backs like capes, filling the wide basins at their feet. Debbie shook herself, hurrying past the fountains up the marble steps and to the main doors. Her coworker, Talam, opened the door for her while shaking his head. She was late again. Rushing in she tried her best to ignore all the beauty in this one room. The high vaulted ceiling with paintings seeming to dance up the walls until they could soar across the ceiling its self. The floor was marble, pristine and crisp. To her left was the lounge where waiting patrons could relax; to her right was her desk. Debbie rushed over to it taking her spot as the receptionist. Along the sides of the wide hallway directly in front of you as you entered were meeting rooms. One of the many master craftsmen or artists would meet with costumers in those rooms. They would talk with them learning exactly what it was the man or woman wanted the finished product to look like. The entrance was only a small part of the large building; the rest was where the actual work took place. The purpose of the entire entrance from the courtyard to the elaborately decorated room was to awe and impress potential customers. Art’s Haven sold more than just statues and paintings however, the store’s main stream of profit came from the owners themselves. Valath and Nakome were masters at their arts. Valath made all the fabrials, while Nakome….. Debbie shuttered as she thought of Nakome, The Forger, she could twist an object’s soul. It wasn’t natural, but who was she to judge?
  20. Dwig looked about, the Alley city was the perfect place for a new M&I location. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small cylinder, marked: M/I LC AMCD. Dwig grinned, unscrewing the top of the cylinder and smacking it against his hand. Something fell out, Dwig smiled. He held the small, pure black cube in his hand for a second, before tossing it at a dilapidated building. When the cube hit the building, it transformed the once-apartment into a perfect Metallurgy and Investiture shop. Dwig grinned. The device had worked this time. He walked inside, seeing all the usual stuff that M&I sold. Dwig vaulted over the counter and plopped into his swivel chair. After sitting for a while, he rolled over to his file cabinets and pulled out a folder. He stood up and walked to the door. Walking outside, he began nailing the notice in the folder to the door. Then he walked back inside. Looking about, he saw that the store was slightly different from the original. It still appeared like a supermarket with metal vials, fabrials, and weapons on the shelves. He wandered to the back of the shop and sat back down. METALLURGY AND INVESTITURE NOW HIRING, Positions needed: Below was a five-page list.
  21. In the central hub of the AlleyCity, where the city-life is thickest, stands a lone Notice Board created by some genius whose name was sadly forgotten, shielded with Aons, augmented by durabilty fabrials, and coated in a few feet of aluminum, the Notice Board is an object that relays information to everyone who needs or wants to see it. ---- --------- Notices currently on the board: (Feel free to post a reply here and I'll edit this post to show your message)
  22. She stood outside, smiling, and put up the sign on the headquarters. Open. The Alleyverse needed a place to buy stuff from guilds like the Craftsmen and the DA, and the Alleyvere needed something more importantly than that. Free. Shipping. Free TWO DAY shipping. Her CEO was Ambrosia, but Ambrosia wasn't here. So she had to open it. Her manager was Walker. Walker was second highest rank in the company. Welcome to Alleyzon! This will take anything from a guild you order from, and let you order it from anywhere! And get it to you within TWO DAYS. WITH FREE SHIPPING. @Darth Woodrack
  23. Where were the Bands of Mourning found? I remember Marasi just picking the bands off of the ground after they were searched and it was tossed to the ground (I could also be wrong about that), but I can't remember the first place they showed up. Can someone please give me a recap. I don't have the book anymore and can't figure it out! Thanks.
  24. The house wasn't large for a well-situated merchants home, but it wasn't small either. It was mediumsized and like the other houses around it was relatively new. Locaded in a part of the Alleycity, that was only partially destroyed, it still had to be rebuildt almost from scratch. Around the house was a small strip of green, mostly gras and some bushes to keep the workload low. Same as the house the inhabitants were said to be normal people. The woman was known for her generosity - had she not taken an orphan in during the hard years after the war? And ever since she married again, the street had another nice and quiet couple, that looked after their work. The girl they forstered was a quiet one, but well-educated and gossip was sure she would make another merchants son a fine wife someday. Rumor had it, that there were already negotiations going on. It was a warm, welcome looking house, with a nice, generous family living inside - or so everybody thought. But today the house seemed darker and everybody made a wide berth when they passed it on the street. It felt like a dark energy was all around it, and unconciously the neighbours kept away. A raven sat on the rooftop, screaming a hoarse cry into the air, almost like it was calling doom itself. If you looked closely the raven was dripping blood the tiles and flashes of light could be seen behind the windows. But like any good neighbours, they turned their heads. The Vulkens were nice people, what happened inside their walls, was their private affair. ===================== Suddenly the darkness went away and Damaya instinktively took a deep breath. She was in a building. Somewhere. Araha was gone. Panic overtook her senses for a moment, until she forced herself to breathe deeply. In front of her stood a man, in armor. He reminded of those that had attacked them at the Waystop and she instinktively stumbled backwards, until her back hit a wall. "Who are you?" She asked, her voice small and frightened. She almost expected him to raise a hand and struck her and shoved the memory away. Mr Amber was right. She needed to get over them, not everybody wanted to hit her. Although this guy probably would. "What do you want from me?" @Grey Knight
  25. From the album Natural History of Roshar

    When I first read the description for this area, I immediately imagined they're some kind of alpine version of the deep sea hydrothermal vents - aka the white or black chimneys. I love those bizarre deep sea things, and have been trying to envision how would those hydrothermal vents look like when combined with the Alps. It's really tricky, and the vertical aspect of those vents makes it really hard to see where the Horneaters would put any sort of city or crops fields on. As I keep researching, I eventually came across alpine hot lakes in the Andes mountains, and decided to change direction and go with something like an extinct conical volcano chain that has turned into lakes. The imagery would be more familiar, and the slopes would mean imaginable cities and civilization such as the Machu Picchu. I decided to try and do the phototexture workflow in pursuit of that Skyrim look. It's not there yet, but can't expect mastery after 1 week! [edit] There is a bigger version with no text overlay here :