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Long Game 98: A Tale of Mists and Metals

Araris Valerian

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Wendarr cracked his door open to peer onto the street, which was enshrouded by the Deepness despite the early hour. The road was empty as far as he could see, evidence of the violent sickness that had overtaken some who ventured out at night.  Despite his own fear, the whispers in Wendarr’s head had grown louder over the recent weeks, until he could no longer resist them. Burn! Destroy the town! Kill! He shook his head, returning to the present. Surely only the divine could speak into the mind of a person directly. Wendarr stepped out onto the street, flinching as his stomach rumbled. He glanced furtively around again despite the poor visibility of the early evening. The guiding voice had no advice on staying fed, and last year’s harvest had been the worst in the history of the Copper’s Bend. Folk had only survived by trading their ore with Alendi’s passing army, but those supplies were strictly rationed, so nearly everyone was hungry these days.

Wendarr made his way toward the harbor, any noises muffled by the cloak of mist coating the world. *Smack* Lost in thought, Wendarr rounded a final corner and ploughed head-on into someone passing the other way. Kill him! Reacting instinctively, Wendarr reached to his belt and unsheathed a knife. The other person, face still indistinct, had stumbled backward, but seeing drawn steel pulled his own weapon, a sword. Wendarr’s own arm, strengthened both by his time in the mines and the urging of the voice, drove his knife above the man’s guard and into his neck. At the same time, he felt a horrendous shock through his chest. His opponent’s sword had run him all the way through. Wendarr staggered back, finally recognizing the swordsman as Mick, one of the town guards. The two locked eyes, then each toppled to the ground, their blood running over the already damp cobbles. As his vision faded into darkness, the voice echoed again through Wendarr’s head, exultant this time. KILL!

Arwhin, mayor of Copper’s Bend, stood over the bodies of Wendarr and Mick, mixed feelings of sadness and relief reflecting across his face. He finally had the beginnings of an answer to the recent streak of disappearances. Still, Wendarr alone could not account for all the troubles plaguing his town. He nudged the dead man’s body with his boot, and a glimmer of light reflected off some metal through a tear in Wendarr’s shirt. Leaning down, Arwhin saw that a spike of steel was embedded in the man’s ribs. Arwhin frowned, and with a little effort ripped the bit of metal out, turning it over in his hand. Strange indeed. But he would consider any clues that could help them survive until Alendi reached the Well of Ascension.

Welcome to the village of Copper’s Bend! LG ##: A Tale of Mists and Metal occurs on Scadrial prior to the ascension of Rashek to Lord Ruler. The mists last long into the day in your village, and strange deaths have been occurring at night. Can you rally the townsfolk and hold out long enough for Alendi to save the world?

This game must be played entirely in character, including your PMs. In your signup post include your character's name, occupation, and at least one significant character trait. Feel free to inquire about the setting or add to it as you wish, though I'll be sticking fairly close to my interpretation of the Mistborn canon in my writeups.

The rules can be accessed at the link or in the spoiler below:



LG 98: A Tale of Mists and Metals

In the days before the Lord Ruler, Alendi was heralded as the Hero of Ages and united much of the world. Now he seeks out the Well of Ascension to defeat the Deepness, which has been strangling the land. Each city, town, and village is fighting to survive until his success.


Welcome to the village of Copper’s Bend! LG ##: A Tale of Mists and Metal occurs on Scadrial prior to the ascension of Rashek to Lord Ruler. The mists last long into the day in your village, and strange deaths have been occurring at night. Can you rally the townsfolk and hold out long enough for Alendi to save the world?


General Rules:

  • Cycles are split between 48 hour days and 24 hour nights.
  • There is a majority vote during each cycle, where the player with the most votes is killed. Tied votes (including no votes) result in no death.
  • PMs are closed unless a Tineye is alive.
  • All PMs and posts in thread must be written in character
  • There are 2 factions, the Village and the Spiked.
  • All posts must be roleplayed



  • Village: The mists are strangling your food supplies, but have also granted some of you powers.
    • Standard village faction. The Village wins when all of the Spiked are dead. They have no group document and do not know each other’s identities.
  • Spiked: For reasons of his own, Ruin seeks the destruction of Copper’s Bend. With the food shortage and the new powers you have been granted, your master’s desire will not be denied.   
    • Standard eliminator faction. The Spiked win when they outnumber the  Village. They have a group doc to communicate in and a nightly faction kill.
    • The eliminator doc does not need to be roleplayed.



  • During signups, all players should provide a character name, an occupation, and at least one significant character trait
  • All PMs and posts in the thread must be written in character
    • Lists, tables, etc. are allowed, but they should be framed in the context of something your character has done or said
  • Posts containing only a single vote and/or a single vote retraction with no contextual RP are allowed
  • Votes should refer to the character, but tagging (@username) is fine
  • Quality and length of roleplay will not impact the game mechanics
  • Orders to the GM do not need to be roleplayed



Not all players will have a role. Coinshots, Lurchers, and Seekers will have a limited number of charges influenced by the player count (probably just 1-2, always 1 for a Thug). If multiple copies of a role exist they may have different numbers of charges.

  • Tineye: The blessing of Preservation allows you to pierce the mists and relay messages. 
    • While at least one Tineye is alive, PMs remain open. Additionally, every night the Tineye can choose to vandalize a building with a message that will be revealed in the writeup.
  • Thug: The mists can grant you strength, but not for long.
    • You will survive a single exe or attack.
  • Coinshot: You’ve acquired a strange ability to manipulate metals, launching them at high speeds.
    • Spend a charge during the Night to target a player and attempt to kill them.
  • Seeker: The first Spiked that was killed felt… different, somehow. Maybe you can find another.
    • Spend a charge during the Night to target a player to learn their role and alignment.
  • Lurcher: Where the Coinshot can push, you pull. Good thing you carry a shield.
    • Spend a charge during the Night to target a player and protect them from a single kill attempt.


Order of Actions:

  • Tineye
  • Seeker
  • Lurcher
  • Coinshot/Elim kill


The IM for this game is @Devotary of Spontaneity.

Signups have begun and will last for a week, until Sunday November 19 at 6:00 PM EST. This will be the standard rollover time as well, unless something comes up.

Player List:

  1. @Ravenclawjedi42 as Dasenk, a suspicious historian
  2. @Sart as Sirta, a boisterous gentleman with a hankering for drink
  3. @Aeoryi as Scarlet Octopus, an oddly named construction worker fond of rules
  4. @Kasimir as Kaharis, a soldier with a holy mission
  5. @Violet as Violet, a confused person seeking purpose
  6. @Archer as Wendawa the Soothsayer, who is somewhat oblivious
  7. @JNV as Jorrick, a methodical carpenter
  8. @TheRavenHasLanded as Revir, a compulsive thief




Quick Links:


Edited by Elandera
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15 minutes ago, Aeoryi said:

Wait, so it's only rp? What about pinch-hitters? Do they have to RP as the character they're replacing? @Araris Valerian

Correct. And no, pinch-hitters can build their own characters or play as the original, up to them. I'm sure I can work out any continuity issues that arise.

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RP only playing???

Man that's too difficult I gotta think about this one, Porch bro 🙁

(Says the guy who has been waiting a year for this game :P Taking my time to sign up. I have a bunch of characters in my pocket but want to pick one with a voice and arc I can keep up.)

Edited by Kasimir
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Gentlemen! This is what we've been waiting for!

I am the boisterous gentleman Sirta. Together, we shall surely root out these fiendish Spiked. Under my leadership, there is nothing we cannot accomplish.

But first, does anyone have a drink I can borrow? In times like these, a bit of liquid courage never goes amiss.

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Signing up as Cinthio Kimarr: lawyer, exile, struggling innkeeper at The Last Sheaf.

Think of Stardew Valley but darker and also inn-related instead  👀

@Araris Valerian Let me know if you need a clearer trait or characterisation of Cinthio, but the loose character arc I had in mind is thematically about displacement and exile: what does it feel like to come back in the worst possible time to a small village you've long outgrown? What would motivate someone to return somewhere he hated? What is it like to be a stranger in your own hometown? How do you handle that sense of dislocation, or the struggle to fit an old life you rejected?

P.S. The RP doesn't name the inn but I'd go with The Last Sheaf.

Edited to add: Araris - if you need a clearer articulation of a trait, Cinthio's struggling with a bit of a life crisis/sense of exile from everything, and trying to find his footing.

Stormfather, I really hope this has a distinct enough voice to keep me engaged, because I was half-considering reviving Koren's template since he got N1ed anyway (thanks Mat 👀) but Sirtka there has already covered and I'm trying not to make Copper's Bend a village of drunks that so let's go broader 👀 

Leaden grey skies and the sound of falling rain. The first handfuls of dirt on the coffin.

The priestess Ferelda, looking older and more wizened than Cinthio had ever remembered, intoned the last of the burial rites: a prayer committing the deceased to Jahidi's embrace. The battered copper pin of Jahidi's wheat sheaf that she wore on her shawl glinted bright in the weak light of day.

Cinthio Kimarr stared at the open grave being slowly filled in and wished he felt...something. As though he were anything other than a stranger.

He never thought he'd return to Copper's Bend, really. Hadn't planned on doing it for all the distant messages he'd sent home, which his pa'd probably ignored. Or cast to the fire. But when the message had come, to his small flat in Kordel, written in the neat hand of a scribe, Cinthio felt—not grief, not quite, you could not grieve what you did not quite love, if he were being honest, but perhaps a strange sense of loss, mixed with longing and sorrow. And obligation.

"It's a dangerous time," Wynar had said, peering over Cinthio's shoulder as he read the letter.

"I know," Cinthio had said. The rumours of the Deepness striking in the villages and the rural heartlands abounded. Even in the cities, many were not immune to the Deepness. Everyone talked, with hope, about Alendi, who was gone to fulfill a Terris prophecy. Alendi, they said, was the Hero of Ages, and setting out to save them all. Even now, all they had to do was endure. Endure, and wait for salvation to come.

Cinthio looked out the glazed glass window at the magnificent bloodfire of the setting sun and wondered if this was what it meant to live at the death of an era.

"You should stay here, you know," Wynar was saying. He didn't plead. He wouldn't. What Cinthio heard was, stay here. Stay with me. Stay safe.

But the old man, his pa. He'd been a pillar of Cinthio's world, and now that he was gone, Cinthio abruptly felt bereft. Alone. Could you miss or even grieve the loss of someone you'd never really loved?

Maybe that was why he was back in Copper's Bend now, dirt and a new set of calluses on his hands, watching them fill in his father's grave. Mayor Arwhin hadn't talked very much about the cause of Rufus Kimarr's death, but Cinthio'd seen the new stones in the village graveyard, many of them newly-carved. Too many. Faces hollowed by hunger, hardened by the regular confrontations with the Deepness. You didn't fight the Deepness, in these parts. That was the business of lords and kings; the likes of Alendi. Here, you hid, and you helped your fellow villagers, and you hoped for the best.

When the mists came up, people sickened. People died. It was something in the mists, Harim the gravedigger had speculated. But no one knew for sure. Cinthio didn't. The mists lingered long into the day now. They didn't burn off with Pahlar's divine light. The world was turning towards an ending, Wynar had speculated, over the last of the wine; that was why the kings and nations turned towards Alendi and ancient Terris prophecies, seeking any source of salvation. Cinthio didn't remember. It'd been months ago. Maybe two years.

They were living at the end of an era now, the priest of iron Erevar had proclaimed, in Kordel's grand cathedral. It was the time to hold fast and to endure, for the Deepness stalked the lands, and the gods would see them through this. But the mists came now in the day, and lingered, thickened, even, so in some parts crops withered and died and harvests were poor no matter how much you entreatied Pahlar and Jahidi and—and Cinthio wondered. And Wynar'd wondered, of course. Maybe that was what had drawn them together, fresh out of law school at Kordel's university.

That, and the fact it was easier to pay the rent if they shared the flat.

The last of the dirt fell on top of the open grave. Still, the freshly-turned soil seemed like a scab crusted on the earth. Cinthio cast the last handful of dust over his father's grave—awkwardly—and then turned to speak to mayor Arwhin about his father's inn.

Edited by Kasimir
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1 hour ago, Kasimir said:

Edited to add: Araris - if you need a clearer articulation of a trait, Cinthio's struggling with a bit of a life crisis/sense of exile from everything, and trying to find his footing.

The trait thing is more for you, to get people thinking a bit about their character.

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Just for anyone on the fence or cautious about RP-only games:

QF29 wasn't RP-only but it de facto ended up being RP-heavy in the early stages, and you can really do it without getting too deep in the weeds with character arcs and the like:

Though I'd also caution QF29 had one big issue with a player using another player's name for laughs and then the improv went to places that made the impersonated player feel extremely uncomfortable.

Quick example of how it can be done in a short post that has very little fancy RP but would pass Araris's requirements, minus the [OOC] tag there:

Even simpler, shorter RP interaction from Alv to Devo here, with Alv's character essentially being paranoid as all heck:

My views are generally aligned with Drake's in that I don't think it's worth persuading players who are self-excluding for RL/commitment reasons to play a game as the result is potentially inactivity. That being said, I felt that people might be overestimating what it takes to couch a post in RP language. The samples show it can be less daunting than expected.

Edited by Kasimir
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Given player concerns about the game, I think I'm going to retire Cinthio for another game. This should make my posts pretty easy to parse even if I can't get Village points for this as the game hasn't started yet and god only knows what curses Araris's RNG may inflict >> Changing my sign-up to Kaharis, a soldier apparently on a holy mission.

The legions of Evil stand at our doorstep. The Deepness darkens our skies and blots out Amaneth's glorious light. It sickens men, and twists others. We turn on each other, rather than standing shoulder to shoulder against dire Evil.

"Wait for Alendi," they say. Even in Copper's Bend, the village of my birth, where children starve and men gaze with hollowed cheeks and lay the last stalk of wheat at Jahidi's shrine, as we have always done—they say we must wait for Alendi. That Alendi, even now, is on a journey to save us.

I served in Alendi's army. I fought at the battle of Kordelan, at Vhkandi and then Ulendiru, against the armies of the fiery West, before Alendi negotiated a peace with them. I saw bodies stacked up—like cordwood—before the walls of Jhmir-Ampu.

They think I tired of battle, and of slaughter. They are only half-right.

There is a foulness, in this world. The Deepness blights our harvests and starves generations alike. In cities, they squabble in the shadow of storehouses as soldiers struggle to keep the peace. Here in Copper's Bend, they sell ore to the army and pray to Jahidi against the losses of winter. All this while, our own kill, as though they know nothing of light and mercy. As though something terrible has befallen them.

There are graves, newly-dug in the village graveyard. Gentle, kind souls gone mad, gone to the reaving. Graves like scabs on Jahidi's earth.

The legions of Evil stand at our doorstep. The Deepness ravages us, killing young and old alike. Killers stalk in our mists.

I returned to Copper's Bend because Radiant Amaneth called me to her service, and I knew I must answer.

Show them the light by your words and actions, Amaneth teaches us. But at the same time, those beyond redemption—those beyond the light of her truth—must be redeemed by the sharp edge of the sword.

It is an hour of wolves now. The sick and twisted, the irredeemable, must be purified in Amaneth's holy fire.

If it is the will of Amaneth, who am I to deny it?

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