Amanuensis

Long Game 30: Journey Before Destination

959 posts in this topic

Hooray! I finally got around to making this. I'm sorry but it will probably be sort of long.

You named this game "Journey before Destination" and set it in Urithiru right after WoR. You've made this too tempting. If there is ever any time where it is applicable to bring back a character, it is now.

 

 

 

There was no avoiding his death. Uther understood that and accepted it. Through some twist of fate, the Ghostbloods had been defeated.

He stares at the triple-diamond insignia, tattooed on his wrist. It stood for a higher cause... But the world has a way of turning those on their heads. Uther had seen it happen to plenty of other causes... Storms, he had overthrown his share of them. Now the Ghostbloods were in danger of the same. Not that he would live to see it happen.

He stands up on a crate, his back to the window, elevated above the crowd. He clears his throat to address the warring factions one last time before they take him.

 

"Diagramists. I cannot help but salute you. You were uncovered so early, and through some miracle you have manipulated the crowds into doing your bidding instead of bringing you to justice. The battle is yours. But you know what? This world is ending. Regardless of what your Diagram might tell you, you are not equipped to deal with the storm that has come. Enjoy your victory while it lasts."

"Sons of Honor. My death sets you free of your obligation to the Diagramists. Our numbers are cut down, and the Ghostbloods are no longer the threat to you we were. When the Ghostbloods had the choice, most of us voted against a Bondsmith's victory. Now you have the choice. You must decide. Are you really committed to working with the Diagramists?"

"Ghostbloods. All I can do is wish our edgedancer hadn't let the Diagramists know they were discovered. As it is, our forces are greatly weakened. With the losses we sustain, you will no doubt be maneuvered into a pact with the others, which is in truth our best and only chance at survival. I don't know what the future holds, nor will I live to know it one day, but... For what it's worth, good luck."

 

"And as for the Bondsmith... Most importantly the Bondsmith... You only want to unite us. Well, perhaps I can't stop you. But after the thrill of your victory settles down, and after you return to your daily business... I want you to face yourself with a hard question. You are a Bondsmith, and you spoke an oath to unite instead of divide. But what of your means of doing so?

You have built your precious peace on the corpses of people who did not agree with you. When the majority did not want to work together, you saw this as no impediment. You just killed them all. Problem solved.

Journey before destination. The ends do not justify the means.

It's such an easy lie to tell. Of coarse the ends justify the means; sometimes you need to make sacrifices for the greater good. The Diagramists would certainly tell you that. So too would the Sons of Honor, and, I realize, so too would the Ghostbloods.

But when you tell yourselves "the ends justifies the means" you are tricking yourselves. You focus not on the end but on your ends. You choose to focus, not on the complete end result, but just on the small piece of it that you aimed to achieve. Your vision tunnels, and they see only the glory of your goals, not the price.

Journey before destination, radiant. Even I know that."

 

"I understand that nothing I can say at this point will change your mind. I don't intend to change your mind. But when the dust is settled, you will remember."

 

Uther stands above the crowd. There was silence and blades leveled at him and anticipation for the day's end.

The race was run.

He draws his knife. Poisoned. A mix of powerful sedatives and a distillation of blackbane. The knife of a Ghostblood assassin. it would offer him a quick and painless death. He holds it out to the crowd, handle first.

"Get it over with, then."

 

Uther waited an agonizing eternity. He saw a triumphant glint in Sani's eye. Then she seized the knife from his outstretched hand and thrust it into his stomach.

An unimaginable pain wracked his body, then... Nothingness. An unnatural numb spread from the wound as the poison quickly did its work. Uther felt his consciousness steadily draining away and his legs begin to give way. Sani's smirking face seemed to be growing more distant, and Uther realized he had been pushed out the window.

For a moment, Uther felt the rush of wind in his ears as he fell through the air. Then he heard a crack as he hit the floor of the next level down, followed by a metallic thud as his knife landed next to him. The terrifying nothingness kept him from feeling the impact, the shattered ankle, or the countless cracked ribs. Tiny pinpricks of colored light scattered across Uther's blurred vision as the pouch of spheres at his side burst open and the glass balls rolled on the floor in front of Uther's head. Lights he couldn't escape, for the poison was acting swiftly and Uther could no longer move his neck.

Dark, crimson-eyed forms encircled him, like carrion waiting for their next meal. Deathspren.

Barely conscious, the words still echoed in his head. Journey before destination... I wonder where the journey will take me in death...

Life before death.

The lights in his vision extinguished all together. Uther saw only darkness... Did I just die? He wondered deliriously as consciousness slipped away.

Then the light was inside him. A storm crashed through his veins, igniting his blood, purifying it. The light coming of Uther's skin was nearly blinding. The deathspren gathered around him evaporated like smoke in the wind before the relentless glow.

Strength before weakness...

All went dark again, and Uther slid into unconsciousness.

The journey isn't finished.

 

Uther awoke on the floor. He hadn't been very comfortable sleeping there anyway, and why was... Oh. That's right. I died.

Somehow, the revelation did not surprise him. All things considered, Uther felt a remarkable clarity in thought. He readily understood what all this meant... He was one of them.

He glanced at the knife-hole in his uniform and saw a scabbed over wound where a death-blow should have been. Stormfather...

The diagram, the bondsmith... What of the Ghostbloods? NO. You do not return to them.

I joined the Ghostbloods because they stood for a higher cause. Their destination was always worth the price, ever, always worth the price... The desolation had to be prevented.

But they didn't prevent it, did they? Their bloodthirsty schemings and precarious alliances are as insignificant as cobwebs in a highstorm...

Braize itself is loosed on Roshar, and voidbringers walk the earth. There is only one thing that could stand against it... One thing that has ever stood against it.

 

The Knights Radiant have returned.

 

Uther the soldier is dead. Uther the Ghostblood is dead. Uther the radiant is born. I wasted my life chasing a false destination, but today I have been given my life back... To dedicate to a true journey.

Life before death.

Strength before weakness.

Journey before destination.

 

Uther stood up, his left leg aching but still apparently holding his weight. He gathered the dun spheres strewn across the floor by him, and set his knife back in his belt. Where the hell am I, anyway?

He wondered for a moment what he would do with his newfound life...

 

 

Uther waited in the midst of a long line weaving through a very crowded part of Urithiru.

Hopefully an emerging beard, a new outfit, and the public opinion that he was dead would keep any of his old associates from recognizing him.

It's a risk... But this is the path before me. If Kholin is really refounding the Knights Radiant, then I will... must dedicate myself to it.

In the last few days it has become clear to me that I am no radiant. I can breath stormlight, but... I should have known from the start. Like any discipline, it must be learned. Journey before destination.

It feels strange, receiving this gift just in the right time and place to join Kholin's new order. After all I've seen, I'm not sure how I feel about Roshar's Almighty... But something out there meant for me to be here right now. Something real.

"Speak the Words." a commanding voice called out to Uther. He realized with surprise that he was already at the front of the line. The crowd had their eyes fixed on him.

The words. The words burnt into Uther's mind as he touched death and came back unscathed.

"Life before death."

Everyone meets death in the end, but the fight we fight before it takes us... That is what matters.

"Strength before weakness."

One day, there will be time to mourn and remember the terrors of the past. Today we face the storm, and we have to be strong.

"Journey before destination."

Destination is an illusion; there is only the endless journey... There is never an excuse to pursue a just goal in an unjust way.

Uther met Dalinar's eyes. Storms that man has a presence. Truly, this was the one who would unite the Knights Radiant after centuries of broken oaths.

"Breathe deep, and we'll know if your heart is true."

I've never spoken oaths truer, or sworn to a cause more right.

As he had practiced in the past few days, Uther sharply inhaled, sucking the light out of the clearmark Kholin extended. A cold surge of energy washed over him like a stormwall. He held the storm inside for a moment, experiencing the mix of clarity and frenzy it granted him, then exhaled to release it in a puff of shimmering mist.

It was done. He saw a look of satisfaction cross Dalinar's face.

"What is your name, that I might announce you to the world?" Dalinar asked.

Aww braize. I had hoped I could explain this in a less public place...

I have a feeling lying to this one would be a bad idea...

Uther leaned in to Dalinar and spoke quickly and quietly. "I am called Uther... But that is between you and I. If you announce me as such, you will probably find me dead soon, radiant or no. You are to announce me as Teresh."

A frown crossed Dalinar's face. He did not like the idea of deception. But he also realized Uther was dead serious, and after a pause he announced him as Teresh. Uther had no doubt a more complete explanation would be required of him soon.

An explanation he was more than willing to give. Uther had a fresh start now, perhaps even a chance to atone for his past crimes. He had joined the Knights Radiant.

 

 

Sign me up as Teresh (right now only Dalinar knows that my real name is Uther). I am excited to participate in this game. Aman I'll PM you my crime in the morning, I've gone without sleep for long enough to type the intro RP up :Pand according to the countdown I should still have roughly a day and a half from now before sign-ups are closed.

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I'd like to quickly point out that I'll be gone over the weekend, which means I'll roughly miss out on the first 24 hours (not the first cycle, just the first 24 hours). I don't expect this to be an issue in any way, but if anyone tries to PM me in that period, this should explain my unresponsiveness.

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13 hours ago, randuir said:
 
 
 
 

I'd like to quickly point out that I'll be gone over the weekend, which means I'll roughly miss out on the first 24 hours (not the first cycle, just the first 24 hours). I don't expect this to be an issue in any way, but if anyone tries to PM me in that period, this should explain my unresponsiveness.

Well you're in luck! Because I'm actually extending the sign ups (and the turnover by extension) by just a hair. Should give you a little more time that Chapter.

This will be the final extension for the sign ups. So for anyone else who wants in, you'll have the countdown timer below hits zero to post your 200 word character introduction.

tur_1486288800.png

Chapter 1 will begin an hour later (so that I can take care of alignment distributions). Each Chapter will close every three days at 0400 EST, followed by a two hour gap for STINK and I to process the results and produce the write up.

@Conquestor, @Manukos, @Darkness Ascendant, you three have expressed interest, but still have not met the sign up requirement. Once you do I will happily add you to the player list, but if you don't, I'm afraid you'll just have to spectate the game.

If anyone else is interested in playing - or at the very least, spectating - I hope to hear from you soon.

Ciao for now.

Edited by Amanuensis
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Ah, Chapter One is so close, yet seems to get further away the closer I get... oh wait, it is. Patience is a virtue.

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Prologue

Ashetvl whimpered.

 

 

“Tvazn, shirt off!  I won’t have good clothes be ruined by the damned ocean water!”

Ashetvl turned and looked at Tanb, who was calling over to her.  She was working on the rigging, nothing essential, just sorting ropes but disturbances were still annoying.  She also didn’t want to take the shirt off.

“Captain, it’s only water!  How will it ruin the shirt?” she called back.

“Salt, my lad.”

“Salt?!  How would that ruin the shirt?”

“Don’t question, lad.  It simply will.”

Ashetvl sighed and reluctantly removed the shirt.  She hid her chest for as long as she could, first with the shirt and then with her arms, but eventually there was nothing she could do.  She felt exposed.  So exposed.

“Give it here, lad, I’ll take it down to your quarters for you.”

“Can I not… Can I not keep it here?  Use it to shield from the sun?”
“What madness are you on about, lad.  It’d still get the water on it then!  Just give it here!”

Ashetvl looked down at the shirt and then back at Tanb.  She handed it over.

“Thank you, lad.  Now back to work!”

Ashetvl turned back to the rigging, trying as hard as possible to crouch down and cover her chest with her legs.  The others looked at her awkwardly.  They didn’t understand.

 

 

Ashetvl whimpered. She was lying in her cabin bed.  Everyone else was asleep.  There were tears in her eyes, but so far none had fallen down to the bed.  She held herself tightly, her arms wrapped around her legs, going into a fetal position and trying to make herself seem as small as possible.  Her smallclothes were uncomfortable.  They were restrictive.  She hated them.

 

 

“Again, lad?”

“Again?”
“The shirt, Tvazn.  Take it off!”

 

 

Ashetvl felt between her legs and then recoiled again.  Why had she done that?  Why was she even here?  She whimpered some more and rolled over so she was facing towards the wooden wall.  The boat’s rocking was relaxing, and she closed her eyes and let herself focus on that.  The rocking.  Relaxing.  She thought about the waves.  That was why she was here.  The waves.  The ocean.  She loved it.  It was… nice.

 

The Entrance to Urithiru

Ashetvl clutched onto her jacket tightly.  It wasn’t cold, she simply wanted to keep herself hidden away.  Or at least, keep her body hidden away.  The jacket wasn’t particularly fancy - she couldn’t afford much with what she had left - but the blue pattern it had trailing down the side was a nice touch.  She’d added that herself using thread she’d found in an abandoned chest on the road.  Most of it had been ruined by a highstorm, but the thread had been wrapped tightly in a beautifully designed sewing pouch.  It must have meant a lot to whoever had owned it.

 

She was surrounded by people, people of all different varieties.  While most were Alethi, she’d seen at least a couple Makabaki folk and even a Reshi woman weaving her way through the crowd.  Ashetvl felt less an outsider knowing those people were here, even if her eyebrows did stand out.  Fortunately, most people seemed to be ignoring them, instead focusing on the grand city spanning out before them.  They stood on a grand bridge which anywhere else would have dazzled and amazed and yet none paid attention to it, for what was before them was even more impressive.  A hundred layers of stone rose up before them, towering higher than Ashetvl had ever before thought possible.  Perhaps it was the work of the Radiants, or even the Heralds.  They were said to have powers beyond human comprehension, and she did not see why that could not apply also to architecture.

 

She moved along with the crowd, less making her own way than flowing with it, stepping this way and that as the countless people crossed the bridge as one, making their way into the ancient city of legend, Urithiru itself.  It was hard to believe that she was really here and yet, at the same time, it seemed inevitable.  There was something about it that just felt right.  She couldn’t quite place what.  As the crowd shuffled along, she remembered with a sudden fear of what she’d been told about thieves in the Alethi warcamps and she looked down at her bag, making sure that it was still closed and sealed as it was meant to be.  She held it close to her, the strap somewhat hurting her shoulder, but it was worth it for the protection it might provide against thieves.  Thieves blessed by the gods.  Thieves that were gods.  Despite knowing how little sense this made, it still panicked Ashetvl and she kept extra wary than she normally might be.  What she kept in this bag was valuable.

 

 

Dalinar Kholin was recruiting people to the Knights Radiant.  That shocked Ashetvl more than a little bit. The Knights Radiant were supposed to be gone and, especially in Alethi culture, considered worse than evil.  And yet, the near king of the Alethi was recruiting more.  There was a grand line leading up to a set of stairs at the top of which stood Dalinar himself.  The line was moving somewhat quickly and Ashetvl watched several people climb the steps and then kneel before Dalinar.  The man would say something to them and then they would say something back.  Dalinar would hope up a sphere to them and then would wait a few seconds.  And then whoever had walked up the stairs would descend them again, often looked more angry than not.


And then, something incredible happened.  Another person walked up the stairs to the dais, bearded but otherwise nondescript.  Dalinar spoke to them and they spoke back like all the others.  Dalinar held out the sphere.  And then the light had flowed into them.  It had left the sphere and moved into the person kneeling there.  They began to glow, almost as if the light was leaking out of them.  Ashetvl gasped.  The Radiants, there were more of them.  She had heard of the few that had already revealed themself - the people in the caravan she had taken to the Plains had not stopped talking about them in all the time Ashetvl had been there - but not of more coming.  And people seemed to be lining up, just to be given the chance of being one of them.  It was insane.  Madness. Wonderful.  Ashetvl thought back to what she’d been told about the Radiants and about the one called Davar.  Creator of illusions.  Ashetvl looked down at herself.  If she… if she had that power.  She could be who she was.  She could be herself.  She walked over and joined the line.

 

 

The length of the line was both surprising and completely understandable.  On the one hand, it was strange that so many people thought themselves capable of being Radiants, whilst on the other hand, it made so much sense that they would want to try.  Just in case.  How could anyone turn down that chance, to gain powers beyond anything anyone had known in thousands of years.  Like Ashetvl.  She looked down at herself again and kept her gaze down.  A tear formed in her eye. She hated it.

 

Someone coughed.  She looked up.  The person before her had just walked up the stairs and was kneeling before Dalinar.  Ashetvl could hear what he was saying to them now.

“Speak the words.” Dalinar commanded.

The person complied.

“Life before Death.
Strength before Weakness.
Journey before Destination.”

Dalinar held out the sphere to them. “Breathe deep and prove that your heart is true.”

Ashetvl could hear the person breathing in, far too deep than was healthy.  There was quiet for a second.  Nothing happened.  The person stood up and then stormed down the stairs, pushing past the people in the crowd that had gathered here.  Dalinar looked after them and then turned his attention towards Ashetvl.  She gulped and then began to ascend the stairs herself.  She knew the words.  She knew what she had to say.  And yet, she was still nervous.  This was her chance.  Her only chance, maybe.  She couldn’t screw it up.  She went up, took her bag off from over her shoulder and lay it down at the ground beside her feet.  Then she kneeled down before Dalinar.

 

“Speak the words.”

She knew the words in Alethi.  She was very much fluent in the language.  It was hard not to be when one had traded with them for most of one’s life.  And yet.

“Tvalor shal mralb.”

Dalinar looked at her, confused.  She felt confused.  What was she doing?  She could speak Alethi, so why was she not?

“Mabn shal tvailr.”

Dalinar looked even more confused.  She couldn’t do it.  She couldn’t do it.  It just came from her, without warning, without any control.

“Shlvan shal mrak.”

Dalinar stared at her.  Then he held out the sphere, a diamond broam.

“Breathe deep and prove yourself true.”

She breathed in.  The light jumped into her.

She began to cry.

Dalinar put a hand on her shoulder and whispered to her.

“Well done, child.  Well done.” and then louder, “What is your name, Initiate?”

Ashetvl went to say “Tvazn” and then stopped.  She thought about it.  What was she doing?  She was free now.  She had proved that to herself.

“Ashetvl,” she whispered.  Dalinar looked at her deeply.  He nodded to himself.  Of course he knew Thaylen names.  He was basically a king.

“Stand, Ashetvl, so that I might declare you to the world.”

Ashetvl did as she was asked.

“Here stands Ashetvl of Thaylenah.  She has spoken the First Ideal not in Alethi, but in Thaylen.  She has proven that we are universal.  The Knights Radiant stands not for any one nation, but for all humanity.”

She.  Ashetvl began to sob harder.

 


Ashetvl lay down her bag on the bed that they had provided for her.  It was a room for herself, as all the initiates had been given.  It wasn’t large, but it was enough space for her.  The privacy it provided was welcome again.  She opened up the bag.  She was accepted now.  The bag wasn’t bulky, but what was inside was the most important thing she owned.  Ashetvl reached in and grasped onto a soft material and then dragged it out.  A gown of a deep green.  She had been told it matched her eyes.  It was the only valuable thing she had left.  She removed her clothes and then slipped the gown on. She smiled to herself.  Yes.  This was right.

 


I'm signing up as Ashetlv, the sailor from Thaylenah!

If anyone wants to RP with me, I think it would be pretty cool if there was someone who knew her from earlier on and knows her old name Tvazn.  If anyone's inerested in doing that, ask, and I'll send over some details of the character history that we could use to build something interesting out of.

Edited by AliasSheep
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I'd like to sign up to spectate, please :).

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Due to RL issues, can I request to switch to being a spectator?

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Sareth-son-Erneth stood facing the crowd of people. People who were uncertain, scared, or worried. People who needed the Truth. He glanced down at his cloak, where his book was tucked away. The Truth could help them, like it had done for him. The crowd murmured among themselves, most likely about him. He stood and raised a hand for their attention. The chatter ceased.

"Friends, consider the marvel in which you stand this moment. This is Urithiru, the Holy City! Does it not bring awe to your gaze and a hush to your voice? Behold its grand arches and vaulted ceilings, engraven pillars and seamless stone! You should count yourselves as the lucky few that can witness this place.

"Consider now this: what is your purpose in life? Does not everyone want to know this? Why am I here? Why do I live? Why? I will tell you. It is to find Truth, the constant of the universe. It is the Truth that guides what is right. I say unto you, the Truth is what will bring you satisfaction in life and a purpose to fulfill! But what is the Truth? The Truth is what is sure. It is the rules by which the universe runs. The Truth is that right will conquer wrong and that happiness never was wickedness. The Truth is that honesty is the greatest virtue and that honest dealings with others are of utmost importance. The Truth is that lies are evil, and are a perversion of the True Way. I caution you, do not lie! A lie twists your soul and tarnishes your spirit. If you have lied or dealt dishonestly, repent! Forgiveness is of Truth, so do not fear, for if you seek the Truth and turn not back to your wayward past, your misdeeds will be as ash before a highstorm. Join the fold of Truth, and seek what is right! Peace be unto you all."

Sareth began to turn away, but a call rang out in the crowd.

"Does this mean the other religions are wrong?"

Sareth turned to the sound. It was a man, Alethi, who had spoken. Sareth straightened himself to answer.

"The Truth is a constant. If a religion is True, then it is the Truth. Match your religions to the Truth, and if they fit, then adhere to it. A religion of lies is a cult of destruction."

The man nodded, seemingly content, and began to walk away. The crowd began to diffuse, and Sareth walked off. Perhaps they will recognize the Truth, he thought. It will be wonderful if they do.

Edited by Hemalurgic_Headshot
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'A cold wind lashed out against the walls of Verev, slithering into the guardsman's cloak.'

Slithering? Was that the right word? Lyna crossed it out, trying to consider another. Worming? Breaching? Entering? Wrong mental image, wrong mental image and too simplistic. Finally, Lyna crossed out the entire sentence. This idea was never going to work; she would just have to think of another.

'A storm threw itself against the walls of Verev, crawling over...' No. Threw against the walls and crawling over the walls brought together different images;  they couldn't be used in the same paragraph, never mind the same sentence.

Sighing, Lyna crossed out her thirty seventh sentence that day, before writing down another.

'The guardsman was the first to notice the brewing storm on the horizon.' Would he have been the first, though? Lyna paused for a moment to consider farmers outside the city walls, and discarded yet another sentence.

'Brightness Telavalet,' her father's steward began, 'you are summoned at the behest of Brightlord Saious Telavelet, and may-'

Lyna tuned out the rest of his sentence, stacking her discarded pages together. Mother never liked her discarding paper, and insisted that it should be kept to remind herself how much she had improved. Each collection of ink stains was vaguely reminiscent of a half decent sentence, but only vaguely.

None of them worth saving. If she had a hearth in her carriage she would have angrily thrown them into it. As such, she could only hurl them at the wall behind her before stepping out the door.

'Lady Lyna,' the lighteyed steward intoned, 'would it not be wise to make yourself more... presentable?' He scrambled for the right word. Another of father's stewards, each one replaced no more than a month after the last. She hadn't seen this one before; first day on the job?

Lyna looked at herself in the reflection of her carriage window; what was there to make presentable? Sighing, she brushed yellowed hair from her forehead to behind her ears, rubbed sleep out of her eyes, flicked a crumb off her shoulder, then turned back to the steward. Completely presentable.

'Lady Lyna,' the steward repeated, and she mentally tuned him out for the second time that day.

She walked past the steward while he was in mid sentence, slipping out of the caravan and moving towards Father's. The steward ran in front of her, determined to lead the way; he wouldn't get the chance. Lyna hurried her pace without sacrificing dignity, keeping a meter ahead of Father's steward.

The steward gave up his last ounce of dignity, leaping in front of Lyna to open the door. She tried to hide her satisfaction, and just barely succeeded. He stepped to the side, gesturing for her to enter. A small victory for him; she had no choice but to enter, and now he was acting like he was giving her permission. Lyna brushed past him, barely giving him a glance, all the better if it soured his victory.

Lyna hesitated at the last step. They said life wasn't a competition. Anyone who said that was losing, and she wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of seeing her do the same. She gripped the dagger hidden in her safehand sleeve for reassurance, then stepped into the carriage.

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On ‎1‎/‎24‎/‎2017 at 9:21 PM, Conquestor said:

Perhaps one of the other games will end before this starts. -_- Fine, I can't resist this game! :lol: I will join as Willifer Chaon, The High Prince of Information. He is very intelligent, but as you might guess, not very strong. He has an amazing mustache though!

 

On ‎1‎/‎24‎/‎2017 at 8:39 PM, Amanuensis said:

INITIATES

  1. Amanuensis as Lomot

  2. A Joe in the Bush as Jonly

  3. Assassin in Burgundy as Araon Darkblade

  4. Straw as Gladius

  5. Jondesu as Kintas

  6. randuir as Ranatar

  7. Hemalurgic_Headshot as Sareth-son-Erneth

  8. TheSilverDragon as Rea

  9. Ecthelion III as Fifth Nameless

  10. Arinian as Arionium

  11. JUQ as Hess

  12. Quiver as Veriq

  13. Shqueeves as Leif

  14. Doc12 as Hithon

  15. Magestar as Balthazar

  16. Arraenae as Ralaani

  17. TheMightyLopen as Shinon

  18. Drake Marshall as Teresh

  19. AliasSheep as Ashetv

I am allowed to join right? :lol:

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14 minutes ago, Conquestor said:

 

I am allowed to join right? :lol:

You're missing Aman's required 200 word introduction. ;)

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18 hours ago, Daniyah said:

I'd like to sign up to spectate, please :).

Woo :D got our first spectator. I'll send you a link soon.

18 hours ago, Straw said:

Due to RL issues, can I request to switch to being a spectator?

Sad to see you go, but that's fine Straw. Hope everything is well!

17 hours ago, The lazy anarchist said:
 

'A cold wind lashed out against the walls of Verev, slithering into the guardsman's cloak.'

Slithering? Was that the right word? Lyna crossed it out, trying to consider another. Worming? Breaching? Entering? Wrong mental image, wrong mental image and too simplistic. Finally, Lyna crossed out the entire sentence. This idea was never going to work; she would just have to think of another.

'A storm threw itself against the walls of Verev, crawling over...' No. Threw against the walls and crawling over the walls brought together different images;  they couldn't be used in the same paragraph, never mind the same sentence.

Sighing, Lyna crossed out her thirty seventh sentence that day, before writing down another.

'The guardsman was the first to notice the brewing storm on the horizon.' Would he have been the first, though? Lyna paused for a moment to consider farmers outside the city walls, and discarded yet another sentence.

'Brightness Telavalet,' her father's steward began, 'you are summoned at the behest of Brightlord Saious Telavelet, and may-'

Lyna tuned out the rest of his sentence, stacking her discarded pages together. Mother never liked her discarding paper, and insisted that it should be kept to remind herself how much she had improved. Each collection of ink stains was vaguely reminiscent of a half decent sentence, but only vaguely.

None of them worth saving. If she had a hearth in her carriage she would have angrily thrown them into it. As such, she could only hurl them at the wall behind her before stepping out the door.

'Lady Lyna,' the lighteyed steward intoned, 'would it not be wise to make yourself more... presentable?' He scrambled for the right word. Another of father's stewards, each one replaced no more than a month after the last. She hadn't seen this one before; first day on the job?

Lyna looked at herself in the reflection of her carriage window; what was there to make presentable? Sighing, she brushed yellowed hair from her forehead to behind her ears, rubbed sleep out of her eyes, flicked a crumb off her shoulder, then turned back to the steward. Completely presentable.

'Lady Lyna,' the steward repeated, and she mentally tuned him out for the second time that day.

She walked past the steward while he was in mid sentence, slipping out of the caravan and moving towards Father's. The steward ran in front of her, determined to lead the way; he wouldn't get the chance. Lyna hurried her pace without sacrificing dignity, keeping a meter ahead of Father's steward.

The steward gave up his last ounce of dignity, leaping in front of Lyna to open the door. She tried to hide her satisfaction, and just barely succeeded. He stepped to the side, gesturing for her to enter. A small victory for him; she had no choice but to enter, and now he was acting like he was giving her permission. Lyna brushed past him, barely giving him a glance, all the better if it soured his victory.

Lyna hesitated at the last step. They said life wasn't a competition. Anyone who said that was losing, and she wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of seeing her do the same. She gripped the dagger hidden in her safehand sleeve for reassurance, then stepped into the carriage.

Woo! Another new player. I'm sure I'm not the only one who gets excited at the sight of fresh blood. Happy to have you, LA (or would you rather go by another nickname?)!

16 hours ago, Conquestor said:
 

 

I am allowed to join right? :lol:

You are, friend. It's just as Jondesu pointed out. At the very top of the second post, it explains that signing up for this game requires 200 words of RP about your character.

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The lamps faded as their stormlight was drained.  Warm sunshine flooded into the room from the opening that now stood on the other side of the room from where it had started.  An excited chatter started up as the others began to file out.  Naihar waited until most of the group had exited before joining them.  

Near the back but not at the back.  Those at the front will be eager and will stand out while those at the back will stand out for a different reason.


Naihar was in no rush.  His place among the Knights Initiate was assured.  Palms had been greased, threats made and words whispered.  All to get him into an organization that he could’ve easily gotten into himself simply by revealing his ability to Lash.  But then his sponsor didn’t know about his ability to draw objects to whatever he was touching at the time.  In fact no one did.  

Well almost no one. Naihar thought ruefully. The Famed Gamin, the smuggler Wurum and Aladdin, a street urchin, were the only ones that knew his secret and thankfully none of them were here.

As his eyes adjusted to the light he stared up at the looming tower before him.

One hundred stories tall and still standing.  Remarkable.


Shaking himself free of his stupor, Naihar made his way towards the tower while subconsciously fingering the folded piece of paper in his pocket.

It was time to get to work.

While Naihar really wanted to play he also wants to make it perfectly clear that he has committed no crimes. What happened in the small coastal town of Telmont in Alethela is still under investigation.

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On 2/3/2017 at 3:28 PM, Hemalurgic_Headshot said:

Ah, Chapter One is so close, yet seems to get further away the closer I get... oh wait, it is. Patience is a virtue.

Journey before destination, Sareth. :D

Edited by Drake Marshall
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21 minutes ago, Drake Marshall said:

Journey before destination, Sareth. :D

Yes, yes. Good one.

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Also...

3 hours ago, Alvron said:

Alethela? The only person who would still be investigating something from the Shadowdays is a veristitalian scholar. :ph34r:

Actually though nice to have ya around I liked your intro

Edited by Drake Marshall
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The Legendary City

Crumbling stone dusted Ashetvl’s hair as she wandered the cold, dark halls of Urithiru.  As much as it had been searched before, the floor she was on had only been noted, surveyed and then left, as more lucrative ventures were followed through.  Fortunately, however, that meant that there was more for her to explore.

 

She walked mostly in silence, every so often humming something to herself but for the most part simply mulling over the events of the last few days.  She was a Knights Radiant now or at least on the way to becoming one.  She would have control over the forces themselves.  It still shocked her, even now.  She was going to be a Lightweaver.  That was what they were called, she had learnt, those who were like Davar.  The ones who wielded illusions.  The ones who could give her freedom.  She didn’t know for sure what she had to do to become a Lightweaver - little information had been given on how one actually became a Radiant - however she was sure that she could achieve it.  She stopped for a second and slowly made her way around a large pile of rubble. that had collapsed in from the floor above leaving a gaping hole in the ceiling.  Even though Urithiru was still standing after so many years and even though it had been built to perfection, it still suffered the same fate as any abandoned building, if slower.

 

After making her way around the rubble, she knelt down and turned down a displaced rock that she had noticed on the side.  A cremling had made its home under the rock and seemed to be quite comfortable there, so she placed it back, smiling to herself.  Life was everywhere, all perpetuating.  It was one of the few things that comforted her.  She continued to make her way down the dimly lit corridor, the only light being small rays that had found their way in through the thin slit windows in the walls of the various rooms.  Ashetvl stopped at each room she walked past, bathing herself in that light and peering in to see if there was anything interesting, but ultimately carrying on.  In one or two rooms she stopped and had a closer look around, often finding some interesting oddity that she put in her bag for examination later.  So far she had found an old doll, itself covered in dust and dirt, that she intended to clean later, as well as some kind of carving from when Urithiru was still a thriving city.  She picked the rooms mostly on intuition and each time she found something interesting.  Maybe she was lucky, or maybe there was something of interest in all of Urithiru.  She would have to investigate that sometime.


Hours passed and she found herself growing more and more attached to the dead city.  She was almost saddened that it was returning to life.  There was so much history here.  So much to learn and to see.  She almost wanted it to stay like that forever.  Perhaps she could do something about that.  She would talk to Dalinar about it at some point; he did seem to be leading the city after all.  As she decided this she stepped out into a light brighter than most of the others that she had walked past before.  She turned to her right and saw that the wall in this room had been demolished completely, leaving an entrance out into the outer gardens, where the sun was shining and people probably should have been working.  They weren’t today, for whatever reason, but that suited her fine, especially when she was exploring.  She put a foot inside the doorway and then simply let herself be drawn in, her excitement building.  This room was special.  Over on one wall there was a large, wooden chest.  A chest.  She ran over to it excitedly and then knelt down before it, not caring that she was getting dirt and dust all over her trousers.  Had it been her jacket she may have cared more, for the work she had done had made it important to her, but these trousers were somewhat meaningless.  Throwaways.  Probably stolen now that she thought about it.  Regardless.  The wood on the chest was, surprisingly, not rotting.  She didn’t know how it could stay there for hundreds, if not thousands, of years and not rot, but for the moment she didn’t question it, she merely wanted to open it up and see what was inside.  She tried to lift the lid, but found that it wouldn’t budge, leading her to notice the padlocks on either side that dangled slightly down yet inexplicably kept the chest shut completely.  She picked up a rock to the side and brought it down against one of the locks.  It didn’t budge.  She tried again.  Nothing.  One more time, then she would leave it alone.  She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, then brought down the rock one last time.  She opened her eyes again.  The lock was broken.  She put down the rock and lifted up the lid. She dropped it again.  Her hand was glowing.  It was faint, but it was obvious.  So it really was no trick.  She spent a few seconds staring at her own hands in wonder but the glow faded quickly.  She returned back to her task.  She opened up the chest and leaned over to look inside.  It was a padded chest with a smaller case in the centre which Ashetvl took out and opened.  Inside was a finely made scroll.  She heard footsteps behind her and closed the case and put it quickly inside her satchel.  She turned around to see a small boy walking in through the doorway.

@TheSilverDragon

Edited by AliasSheep
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1 hour ago, Drake Marshall said:

Also...

Alethela? The only person who would still be investigating something from the Shadowdays is a veristitalian scholar. :ph34r:

Actually though nice to have ya around I liked your intro

Thanks for ruining my lovely surprise twist. :P  Plus it's very fitting as Naihar made his first appearance all the way back in MR2, the Shadowdays of SE.

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Rea walked aimlessly around the largely uninhabited city. He took a quick peak into a room and quickly left for the next room, seeing nothing of interest in the four bare stone walls of the room. I hope there's something interesting down here, he thought to himself as he sighed in disappointment apon seeing another empty room. I mean, there should be death traps, and rooms filled to the brim with gems, the young boy fantasied to himself. Gems so large you have to use both hands to pick them up, with a glittering Shardblade sitting in the middle. He paused for a moment to really let his mental image from, and then started as he realized that it might not be such a fanciful picture, after all, he was a Knight Radiant. I'm totally getting a Shardblade, but how in the world am I going to be able to use it?  Rea thought for a moment, What if they have a small Shardblade, a Shardknife! But as soon as he thought that, all his mind could throw at him was the still image of a small hand, clenching a knife so hard the knuckles turned white, only to be stained red by the blood on the knife. 

With a shudder, Rea slumped against the wall, breathing heavily. It's ok, he reassured himself. You're alright, that was then, this is now. It's over, done, nothing happened. But it was to no avail. The memories kept coming, and how despite how desperately he tried to stop them, the relentlessly rush forwards like the torrential rains of a Highstorm. Eventual the memories faded, and he shakily got to his feat, his breathing still ragged. He looked down at his shirt, and saw two large wet spots his unknowingly wept tears had made. No more, I won't let this happen again. He thought, determined. I have to be strong, I am a Knight Radiant now. His resolve set, he stood up while wiping a few left over tears from his bloodshot eyes, and walked around the corner to see if there was anything interesting.

He pocked his head into the next room he saw, and was surprised to see that there was someone already inside. A small figure in a green dress bent over what looked to be a wooden chest. The girl quickly stood up when he entered, and Rea was so socked he could't speak for a second when he saw the girl's face.

"T-Tvazn!" He exclaimed. "Why are you in a dress?"

@AliasSheep

 

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11 minutes ago, Alvron said:

Thanks for ruining my lovely surprise twist. :P  Plus it's very fitting as Naihar made his first appearance all the way back in MR2, the Shadowdays of SE.

I'm sorry, I wasn't actually aware of Naihar's history, it was just since you said "Alethela" and not "Alethkar."

For what its worth, it'll still be an interesting reveal, because I for one haven't the slightest idea how you are going to explain this (nor did I look in very much detail into the game you linked).

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16 minutes ago, Drake Marshall said:

I'm sorry, I wasn't actually aware of Naihar's history, it was just since you said "Alethela" and not "Alethkar."

For what its worth, it'll still be an interesting reveal, because I for one haven't the slightest idea how you are going to explain this (nor did I look in very much detail into the game you linked).

It's all good.  It's nice to see someone paying attention to the roleplay of others.

That makes two of us.  While I have a couple of theories, Naihar hasn't yet filled me in on all the details.

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Petrik stumbled forward, his dreams seemed foolish. His brethren were still slaves, they were not free. They would never be free...at least not unless Petrik could do more. He slowly moved his foot forward, the next step, although only about a foot high, loomed much higher. The motion sent another blast of pain across his body. Storms that was getting annoying. Petrik was used to the pain by now, each step causing it to flair up again. By now he had thought that he would be able to ignore it, yet even though the pain was not changing, his endurance was. 

Petrik was tempted to look upwards, but that would involve him taking his eyes off the steps, forcing him to stop climbing. And if Petrik stopped now, he was not sure if he would be able to get himself going again. How many of these storming stairs were there anyway? He felt like he had been climbing for hours today, though, he probably had. Petrik moved a hand down to check the bandage across his chest, carefully hidden away under his shirt. 

How am I expected to keep climbing these storming steps? I don't even know what I am looking for up here! A voice had guided Petrik to the stair case, telling him to climb, that all would be answered at the top of the stairs, that the pain would go away at the top of the stairs, that he could be free at the top of the stairs. He had started the climb days ago, and hadn't stopped for more than a couple of minutes of rest every now and then. 

Petrik slumped against the wall, the pain overcoming him. He couldn't continue onward. The wind blew, and he thought he could hear a voice coming from above him, echoing down the steep mountain path. 

If Petrik could just rise to his feet...he would be able to make it up...he would be able to be free.

Petrik needed to live. 

"Life before death" The words escaped his parched lips

Petrik needed to have strength

"Strength before weakness"

Petrik would complete his Journey

"Journey before destination.".

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"T-Tvazn!" He exclaimed. "Why are you in a dress?"

 

Ashetlv blushed.  This kid.  He knew her.  And she recognised him from somewhere.  He knew her by her… old name.  That meant that he knew her from her days of sailing.  That or from her childhood.  He seemed Alethi by the looks of him.  Which was bizarre.  What would an Alethi child have been doing in Thaylenah or even on a Thaylen boat.  And then she remembered.  A small child, maybe ten years old.  He had come to her parents shop when she was between ships.  His clothes had been in tatters.  He had effectively been wearing rags.  So she had taken him in and she had fixed them up.  He’d stowed away on the ship she’d arrived on.  And so they had bonded.  Neither of them had particularly liked the captain (he had never been particularly nice to her and when he’d found the boy, even if that was understandable) and had complained about him together.  The clothes had taken weeks to fix, they were so damaged, especially since she could only work on them between actual jobs for her father who needed her help in the shop.  She had given him somewhere to sleep.  

 

His name was Rea.  And he knew her old name.


“Rea…  it’s… it’s nice to see you again.”

@TheSilverDragon

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"Yeah. Same to you! What are you doing here? DId something happen? Is that why you're in a dress? Are you a girl? I thought so, not really, but kind of. How are you doing?" Rea rattled off all the questions in rapid succession, his chipper attitude hiding the pain he had just relived a few moments ago. The rapid pace of inquiries only stopping to let Rea take a breath. 

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"Slow down, slow down," Ashetlv said, interrupting the boy and pausing for a moment to let him catch his breath, "that's a lot of questions you've got there.  I'm a refugee, like most of the others.  From the Shattered Plains, that is.  Things did happen, yes, but that's nothing you need to worry about."  He was remarkably observant for a lad of such a young age.  Ashetvl wasn't quite sure how he had guessed what he had, though she supposed that the dress helped confirm whatever suspicions he had. "And yes, I... am.  That's why I'm wearing the dress, I suppose." 

Edited by AliasSheep
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