Orlok Tsubodai

Long Game (3)2: Pulling on Strings

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I guess I'll sign on for this. Lets hope I'll be more active this time around. Character is Ryth, a former guard.

Edited by Silverblade5
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Sign me up as Rhea, a cheerful girl who's being trained to run her House one day. She's curious about the Church of the Survivor and admires the faith of the people in it, but isn't sure if she could ever be like them.

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The letter came in the mail, in a small white envelope that belied its importance. Rhea picked it up and read it. 

A moment later, her eyes widened. "Uncle!" she called. "Uncle, come here! You won't believe this."

"Describe it," Uncle Dayson hollered from upstairs. "I'm fixing the roof, can't come down."

"It's an invitation to Fadrex city from Lord Tekiel," Rhea said.

Something clattered onto the ceiling. A moment later, Uncle thundered down the stairs. He grabbed the letter and scanned it.

"Can't make it. Have to meet with Lady Priss in Luthadel," Uncle said.

"But this is important," Rhea said. "It's from Lord Tekiel! You know what turning this down would do to House Aurette. Can't you cancel your meeting or reschedule it for another time?"

Uncle shook his head. "Priss's wedding is in two weeks and she's already screaming for me to finish her dress. Wants her current one completely remade. If I delay, she'll tear my head off."

"Oh," Rhea said. She drooped. Uncle always placed the client's wants over everything else, even over his own health at times. He said that House Aurette had a reputation to maintain, but Rhea suspected that he just didn't know how to have a balanced workload.

"I could go," Rhea said. "You don't need me here, and probably would be faster without me getting in the way all the time."

"No," Uncle said. "I'm not sending you into court alone with those bloodsuckers."

"Come on," Rhea said. "It's an invitation from the Tekiels. Someone has to go. We might be able to get some more clients that way. Maybe Lord Tekiel wants a new suit or something." She looked at Uncle pleadingly.

"No," he said with a sigh. "You'll be eaten alive."

Rhea thought of what had happened in Urteaux last year and winced. "It'll be better than last time, I promise. I need to learn sometime."

"Fine," he said. "Go, but come back the moment you screw up."

"Thank you Uncle!" Rhea said. She threw her arms around him in a hug. "I'll write a response as soon as I can."

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As Garshin exited the alley, he saw two people, one apparently fallen out of the same alley, and the other checking if he was all right.  He hurried over and aided the upright man.  How do I find out when I am without sounding crazy?  "I've been out of touch lately, I'm wondering if you can tell me a bit about what's been going on recently?"  That should give me at least some idea, so I can start narrowing it down.

-------

@Hemalurgic_Headshot that's your character he went up to.

(Also, @OrlokTsubodai I think we might soon need information about exactly when this is occurring.  The OP made it fairly clear that it's after the end of Final Empire and before the end of Hero of Ages, but that's still a fairly eventful time span.)

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Quinn nearly jumped as another man stumbled out of the alley. How many people were currently inhabiting the alley? Was that even legal? The man hurried over and immediately assisted Quinn in his efforts to upright the first man, the one in the trench coat. The other man, the one who was helping Quinn, looked over at him.

"I've been out of touch lately, I'm wondering if you can tell me a bit about what's been going on recently?" The man asked. Quinn raised an eyebrow. How long had the man been in that alley? Quinn thought about what had happened. Earlier that year, the Lord Ruler had been slain in Luthadel, but that was miles away, and Quinn had been busy with his accounting job. He had heard of a war over the throne, but nothing confirmed.

That's Quinn, always overanalyzing.

Just tell him about the letter!

Quinn scratched his cheek and shrugged. "Er, recently? Well, this morning I got a letter," he reached into his suit pocket. "Here it is." Quinn showed it to the man.


@Yitzi2 and @Darkness Ascendant

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Garshin laughed.  "I didn't mean quite that recent, or that personal.  But that's very interesting.  I just got one just like it too."  He took out his own letter.  "Whatever this test is, it may be possible to work together.  You interested?"

Edited by Yitzi2
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(I don’t remember running out of the alley:P)

-----------------------------------

Phantom scowled as the man attempted to aide him. Just as he was about to put the man in his place, another idiot ran out of the alley and bumped into both of them, he then attempted to help Phantom as well! He shrugged off the first man’s arms and glared at the second man until he would back off., “Ising the not needing your help”. The man looked at him strangely, Phantom rolled his eyes and muttered, “I need not your help, friends”. The man shrugged and turned around to meet the newcomer.

"I've been out of touch lately, I'm wondering if you can tell me a bit about what's been going on recently?" The second man asked. Phantom looked at him strangely, surely he must have heard about the fiasco. He isn’t another Assimilation is he?? No, surely not. If he were an assimilation, he would have already known the entire history of this Instance.

The first man pulled out a letter, "Er, recently? Well, this morning I got a letter”. Phantom started at this information, feeling his coat pocket for his letter. Identical…what are the chances o-The second man pulled out his own letter- of stumbling into others with the same letter…

“Indeed, it seems as if we have been invited to the same gathering”.

----------------------

@Hemalurgic_Headshot @Yitzi2

Edited by Darkness Ascendant
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High Imperial?  But wasn't that the creation of the Lord Mistborn?  No wait, he based it on the Eastern street slang that he grew up with.  I'm pretty sure that particular slang arose fairly close to the Catacendre.  Time to make a guess...and hope my High Imperial isn't too far off.

He turned to the apparent Easterner.  "Ising you a-beening a-Luthadel a-late"?

Edited by Yitzi2
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Rhea tapped her feet excitedly in her carriage. She was going to Fadrex, the city where gossamer silk had first come into fashion! She couldn't wait to see what new trends were in Fadrex now. Sure, some snooty people said that only Luthadel fashion was worth following, but Fadrex had its own unique style.

"Are we there yet?" she asked the carriage driver.

"No. We'll arrive in about six hours, mistress," the carriage driver said.

Rhea stopped tapping her feet. "How much further?" she asked. She started drumming her fingers against her legs.


"Are we there yet?" Rhea asked.

"We're arriving in another few hours, mistress. We still have to pass through two towns," the carriage driver said.

"Oh," Rhea said.


"Are we there yet?" Rhea asked.

"Half an hour," the carriage driver said.


"Are we there yet?"

"No."


Rhea stared out the window, watching the landscape pass. Brown hills replaced brown hills, and red sky replaced red sky. Occassionally a grey cloud would pass and break up the monotony.

"Are we there --"

"Yes, mistress" the carriage driver said. "We're here."

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Dear ________

In case you were unaware, reports of The Lord Ruler’s deaths were true. His death was approximately a week ago, so feel free to react whichever way you wish. I understand that you may be concerned about any consequences from this, but be assured that Fadrex is prepared for anything, including the unfortunate and wholly unplanned death of The Lord Ruler.

We hope you enjoy the various sights in Fadrex.

Sincerely,

The Court Fool

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(So is that second letter coming to us later, or on the back of the first, or what?)

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Dear Yitzi2

It is not wise to question us. However, we will not punish you for this one. Keep this behaviour up and you will certainly find the test challenging.

As for how the letters got to you all, is that not a demonstration of the greatness of The Lord Tekiel?

Sincerely,

The Court Fool

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(I was asking, because we're roleplaying getting the letters, and since Garshin clearly hasn't read the second letter yet, I want to know so that I can roleplay it.)

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Letters will never be given to anyone if they would be able to tell that they have received a letter.

Most commonly, this will be when you are sleeping. If anyone has an urgent question, it might be arranged that it is slipped into a pocket while you are unaware.

Never will anyone walk up and hand you a letter visibly.

From STINK.

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(I assume anything that's been roleplayed already is an exception...as happened for quite a few of us with the first one.)

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Something rustled in Garshin's pocket.  He reached in, and found another letter.  How did that get there?  Something very strange is going on.  He took it out and read it.  "The Sliver died a week ago?  Things are going to get chaotic soon."  Should I meddle with history and warn the Ascendant Warrior about Ruin's plans?  They'd probably just think I was crazy...and I don't even know what would happen if I succeeded.  Not to mention that whatever force brought me back might not take kindly...or maybe that's just what it wants.  Ah, it'll probably let me know soon.

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Quinn looked at the identical letters and scratched his head in amazement. This was much more than he had expected when he had left this morning. But if there was to be an event right here in Fadrex, it would make sense that more people would be coming, right?

Oh Quinn, why do you rationalize so much! I'm facepalming my nonexistent face with my nonexistent hand!

Chill. He's always like this. No imagination.

I guess that's why he's not like his brother. I wonder how our counterpart did with him...

Probably better than how we're doing with Quinn.

“Indeed, it seems as if we have been invited to the same gathering," the man in the trench coat said. Quinn nodded. He glanced down the street. No pedestrians wandered. Odd. Quinn checked his wristwatch and slumped his shoulders. Now he was going to be late, he hated being late.

Gosh, the one thing I despise Quinn the most for: a sense of timeliness.

It's not a bad thing...

But it aggravates me! He's so good! His moral code is too strong for us to influence him to do anything interesting.

Quinn shuffled his feet, anxious to get going, now that he was aware of his impending tardiness. He nodded to the others, quickly shook their hands, and sped off.

"I hope we meet again later!" He called as he swiftly walked away.

I better hope so. It's good for him to meet other people.

Sometimes, I appreciate that he can't hear our conversations.

Ah, but when he won't do the right thing and it's so obvious!!! Argh!!!

Calm down, now everyone thinks we are insane. Let's just see how things go.

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Remart rolled out of bed and stretched his arms before reaching for his metal leg.  He didn't always unstrap it, but since he'd started storing his calories in it, he took it off a bit more often to make sure he didn't start unconsciously start drawing on them and putting on weight in the middle of the night.  Granted, that probably wasn't possible, but he liked his new figure and didn't want to take any chances.

Grabbing up a sweet roll he'd left on his bedside table and taking a bit (savoring and accepting the calories this time, letting it fill him up somewhat), he pulled on his long brown overcoat he'd purchased, then frowned as he felt something in the pocket.  Remart squinted at the note he pulled out, somewhat crumpled but written with impeccable penmanship. That wasn't there last night. He shrugged and unfolded it.

Dear Remart,

You have been invited to Fadrex, by the will of Lord Tekiel. And to refuse such an offer would be unprecedented.

Tekiel?  He'd never met the man, but he knew him by reputation.  In the wake of the Lord Ruler's apparent death (which the letter seemed to confirm was true), the chaos in the empire meant he would appreciate a place with some stability, and a good supply of food if nothing else. He didn't know what qualities they might have identified, and as far as he knew, he'd not revealed the secret metalmind in his leg to anyone (not that they'd be that interested in someone who could simply eat as much as he wanted without getting fat), but he was certainly intrigued.  Whoever delivered this had done so either in the bar before he'd stumbled up to bed, or…he didn't see any marks around the door or the window, but he had recollections of someone coming in through a window once and…he couldn't remember exactly, he just thought he remembered a flash of metal.  Regardless, that was a memory from another time, not this night.  He pulled on his boots and packed up his satchel, then headed out the door of the inn and turned down the road towards the canals.  Fadrex sounded like a good place to visit right now, in any circumstances, and he had nothing to tie him down. Let's see what this Fool has in store for us.

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Ising the ising of awake, finally! Hasing the finding of a letter. Wasing the most of suspiciousness. Doing the why of the inviting of me to Fadrex? Wasing the not of knowing my needing of sleep? Ising the going of Fadrex, but ising the grumpy for the ising of the short notice.

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I've got the time for this. I'll join as Sidon, a devout Jaist. Praise the Ja.

Now to read through LG2!

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12 hours ago, Yitzi2 said:

"Ising you a-beening a-Luthadel a-late"?

For one thing, the ? needed to be inside the speech marks for it to be a question, unless he was questioning the statement itself :o.

The other thing is. *cough cough. Well. High Imperial is basically turning everything into a giant horrible gerund.

gerund
ˈdʒɛrʌnd/
noun
GRAMMAR
 
  1. a verb form which functions as a noun, in Latin ending in -ndum (declinable), in English ending in -ing (e.g. asking in do you mind my asking you? ).

So Been is not a verb. Been is the past participle of Be. Be is a verb, Being is a noun. Also, why the 'a's? Actually, don't bother answering, probably due the the fact that your character just speaks like that.

Also, make it more confusing. Instead of "you" refer to me as something ridiculous (:P)

I would have done, "Ising the running of being late you?" (actually not sure where the you would go hrmm)

"Notting the understanding this speaking," Phantom replied

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Okay, that answers the question about my skill at High Imperial.  Garshin shrugged.  "Okay, I won't try to imitate your dialect any more, as apparently my skills in that area are lacking.  Have you heard that the Sliver was killed about a week ago?"

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10 minutes ago, Yitzi2 said:

Okay, that answers the question about my skill at High Imperial.  Garshin shrugged.  "Okay, I won't try to imitate your dialect any more, as apparently my skills in that area are lacking.  Have you heard that the Sliver was killed about a week ago?"

"Mhm I heard he had been on thin ice".

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On 3/20/2017 at 9:48 AM, Herowannabe said:

I stand corrected. That's what I get for not checking and rereading the rules. :rolleyes:

It's okay, Master Tineye. You clearly blocked that game from your memory, forgetting that you were taken in by Inquisitor!Cessie masquerading as a Snapped Thug. :P

-

Klara wasn't native to the Western Dominance. She and her younger brother, Victor, had grown up near Urteau until they'd been thrown into the Pits of Hathsin. Thank the Lord Ruler for his untimely death (no, really. Thanks, Sliver), escaping the Pits had actually been relatively easy, and they'd started west, heading toward the Farmost Dominance. Maybe things would be less chaotic out there, away from civilization. But then she'd gotten separated from Victor. They'd set up camp one night a short distance from a small village and snuck in to scavenge for food. He never returned to camp. So she'd tracked him. Tracked him all the way to Fadrex, which had been barred to her, with walls too high for her to scale and no foreseeable way in. This Lord Tekiel, whoever he was, certainly knew how to imprison his subjects. Not that that surprised her. All nobles were the same--tyrants, the lot of them. Why would this Tekiel be any different? Still, she hadn't let his seemingly impenetrable city stop her, so when she'd heard rumors of some mysterious 'test,' where only those with invitations would be allowed into the city, she'd found one.

Okay, 'found' was an exaggeration. It wasn't like she'd stumbled upon it. She'd stalked the previous owner, a man named Willie according to the invitation's salutation, and killed him, stuffing his lifeless body into an empty wine barrel. Willie wouldn't be found for quite some time, which was just as well for her. Then, she'd disguised herself as a man, which had been...difficult...to say the least. But now, wearing a costume that was at least passable for a man (though she knew it likely wouldn't fool anyone who looked terribly closely, but why would anyone do that for skaa?), she held his former invitation, now hers, tight in her hand. Her pass into the city. Her pass to find her brother.

Now to figure out a way past these 'tests'....

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I'll be signing up, the first game I read through was LG2, and it is what made me decide to join SE...I feel like I have to do this.

I will play as "You" the Cliche Private Eye

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