The Knights Awkward

[RavenRadient7 she/her]

Raven walks into the Library of the Knights Awkward, laptop case at her side. Stopping just out of reach of Mistrunner, she bows shallowly, then starts scrambling through her laptop case. After dumping out a dozen half-filled papers, she drops one at Mistrunner's foot, reading

Books before friends. 17 Shard before the real world. Release dates before birthdays.

 

I will read that which has not been read.

I will stay silent among many words.

I will enjoy without being upvoted.

 

Grabbing the mess of papers, she retreats to a quiet corner of the Hall.

[Mistrunner]

Revan Karrde peers into the room full of books, walks in, and trips on thin air. Blushing, he gets up and shouts a bit too loudly, "Hi, I'm Reva-Kaladin. I guess you can call me kaladin er...something else if you want too, but...yeah. I'm wondering what do we do here once we've joined." He then proceeded to flail his arms about until he crossed them in what could be the most awkward looking position ever executed.

Mistrunner frowns. "I'm actually not sure." She whispers conspiratorially, "It is our greatest secret- we have no idea what we're doing."

 

Raven walks into the Library of the Knights Awkward, laptop case at her side. Stopping just out of reach of Mistrunner, she bows shallowly, then starts scrambling through her laptop case. After dumping out a dozen half-filled papers, she drops one at Mistrunner's foot, reading

Books before friends. 17 Shard before the real world. Release dates before birthdays.

 

I will read that which has not been read.

I will stay silent among many words.

I will enjoy without being upvoted.

 

Grabbing the mess of papers, she retreats to a quiet corner of the Hall.

Raven is accepted into the weirdness of the Knights Awkward and forgiveness is asked in advance for brain damage caused.

[KaladinStormblessed he/him]

Mistrunner frowns. "I'm actually not sure." She whispers conspiratorially, "It is our greatest secret- we have no idea what we're doing."

"Oh. Uh...sorry. I mean thank you for... Uh..sorry. Kaladin runs awkwardly away, smashes into a book case, gets up, and hides in a corner muffling sobs.

[RavenRadient7 she/her]

I'm rather used to weirdness. No forgiveness needed.

[BramFinem he/him]

I notice that there are only nine orders, as opposed to ten. May I put forth another?

The order of the Rolesmiths

I will bind others together with fictional narratives

I will battle on, even if my fictional characters fall around me

I shall raise my strength stat to defend those without, even at the cost of my resources

I offer the oaths: Books before friends, 17th shard before reality, release dates before birthdays!

Edit: I don't know what surges they may have... Role playing and Obsessiveness?

Edited June 20, 2015 by BramFinem

[Mistrunner]

I notice that there are only nine orders, as opposed to ten. May I put forth another?

The order of the Rolesmiths

I will bind others together with fictional narratives

I will battle on, even if my fictional characters fall around me

I shall raise my strength stat to defend those without, even at the cost of my resources

I offer the oaths: Books before friends, 17th shard before reality, release dates before birthdays!

Edit: I don't know what surges they may have... Role playing and Obsessiveness?

It... it's beautiful...

 

I shall add it to the other orders.

[Bort he/him]

There was a loud thud as Bortholemew the Blind slammed closed his massive tome. Moving to Mistrunner, he bowed. "Mistrunner, I must leave this sanctum for a while. A spanreed message has arrived with a possible location for a clue to the whereabouts of the fabled Shardmarks. I hope to return with good news soon. Until then, stay safe, and never lose your page."

 

The midget with the large hair and glasses bowed again, then headed for the exit.

Edited June 22, 2015 by Bort

[Mistrunner]

Mistrunner's hands slam down on the sides of her book throne and her head pokes up above the pile of tomes in front of her. "Shardmarks? Did someone say something about shardmarks? The legendary marks of..." she trails off as she notices something. Something important.

 

"Summer!" she yells awkwardly. "You forgot Firefight!"

[Allomancy she/her]

Allomancy looks down from her perch of books at the other occupants in the room. She sighs, and resumes reading WoR while sketching every character.

[Bort he/him]

By the time Summer had returned and collected the additional books, Bortholemew was nowhere to be seen. The only trace of him that remained was a single strand of long, white, beard hair.

 

Winter, sign up to Kasimir's game as Summer, if you want to join Bortholemew on his quest for the Shardmarks.

[Bort he/him]

Ah, I see. Maybe not then, but don't worry, I'm sure they'll still be waiting when you get home.

 

Wherever you are going, I hope you have fun and stay safe

[Bort he/him]

A flash of light interrupted everyone's reading, and a midget with lots of white hair and a really, really long beard appeared in the middle of the room and slid across the floor. Faint swearing could be heard from him by the people he slid past.

 

Upon reaching the far wall, Bortington the Blind climbed to his feet and, with a look of determination (at least, it may have been determination, but his facial hair made it difficult to tell), he stormed back out of the building, muttering something about Cursed Coinshots.

[Mistrunner]

Mistrunner yells "LANGUAGE!" after him, but no one seems to notice. She sinks back behind Words of Radiance, muttering something about "Old people these days" and "Where's Oathbringer?"

[Quiver he/him]

Well! I thought I'd check if any of your orders fit and it seems you have one which does. After all, I can be somewhat obsessive, am trying to get "in" to roleplaying, and I do like trying to fit different fictions fit together.
 
(I'm sure there is a way to tie Equestria into the cosmere, and I'm gonna find it, and write fan fiction of it, and it will be awesome).
 
So, if Mistrunner doesn't object...
 

---

Books before friends.

17th Shard before the real world.

Release dates before birthdays.

 

I will bind others together with fictional narratives

I will battle on, even if my fictional characters fall around me

I shall raise my strength stat to defend those without, even at the cost of my resources

 

Now, I believe I am owed a spren and a shardblade?

 

Man, I have quite the collection, don't I? I have a Featherbow from the Featherblades/tips guild, sealed with Frost magic from Newcago, the ability to shapeshift from Lark's group...

I am intent on being the social group Hoid and collecting investiture from everyone.

Edited July 10, 2015 by Quiver

[Mistrunner]

"Um... You are accepted?"

Mistrunner frowns and tries to think up a way to keep Quiver from stealing all the guilds' magical powers, then promptly gives up and goes to grab a snack instead.

[ParadoxicalZen he/him]

"Paradox tries to request to join the Knights Awkward, and in turn the Quipsmiths or the Theoryweavers but gets distracted by a new line of Cosmere thought as well as the innumerable questions about Master Hoid"  

[Mistrunner]

Paradox is named Most Paradoxical of the Knights Awkward. Serve honorably and well.

[Windscar he/him]

Here be the (first (and probably last) part of the quite wordy, boring and definitely not that funny) story of Windscar and his Awkward attempt to join the ranks of the most revered (though not (in the least) feared) Knights Awkward.

It was storming outside.

 

The figure in dark robes, face hidden under a loose hood, entered the Keep, standing against the rainy background. His clothes fluttered dramatically, drops of water splashing furiously all around him.

The long chamber was well illuminated by little spheres of different colour hanging from pockets carved in the wooden, tall walls. Even though the place teemed with people of various forms, age, colour, looks and quirks, it was eerily quiet. Many of them sat, either alone by themselves or in groups, in alcoves as diverse in style as themselves.

All of them were reading.

A strong gust of wind followed, forcing the robed figure to make an Awkward step sideways. The door closed loudly behind him. Some of those gathered in the room raised their heads, their disapproving eyes measuring the stranger for a brief moment before turning back to their sacred habit of reading. That was a bit more Awkward than expected, the stranger thought.

He slowly paced forward, his eyes frighteningly following the gatherers as though not wanting to disturb anyone by merely watching. Remembering that his hood was still on, he made the what-he-thought-was-the-polite gesture and lowered it. Even though he left a storm moments ago, his face and long hair were perfectly dry. This, he thought, is the true power of Magic. Not fireballs. He grinned as he thought these words, mentally patting himself for this great insight and storing them as memory for later use.

As he moved through the room, watching a nearby alcove made of high-quality marble - notched with intricate details on its surface - and beautiful green vines that cut the walls vertically, he bumped into something. Someone, actually. He already started mumbling something along the lines of “sorry” - though mostly unintelligibly - before turning to see who his unfortunate victim was.

She was smiling from ear to ear. “Heya!” she said, rather loudly and quite cheerfully.

“Er…”, he mumbled, “..hey-a.” The words did sound as Awkward as they look.

“Heya!”, she said again, same tone and volume, before continuing. “Nice to meet you, and welcome to the Awkward Keep! Or Awkward Castle! Or House of Awkward! Or Palace of the Unshakable Awkward! Or A Sliver of Awkward Embodied In Many Perplexing Physical Representations And One Abstract Thought! Or…” she stopped, whispering to herself as though performing a mental calculation. “Well, there are actually more names for this place than people who tried to name it.” She made a brief pause during which her smile diminished a little, as though she remembered a sad or terrifying - or straightly strange - thing. “Way more. But I’m digressing.” Her smile turned back to its normal dimensions.

He tilted his head to the right as he was listening to her. “Who are you? And, er, nice to meet you too.” He spoke a bit sluggishly and without a definite accent. I really should have practiced talking with people more before coming to this place. However, he was intelligible enough.

“Everyone around here calls me Kite. I am an Awkwardspren, I greet anyone who is so fortunate as to stumble upon this amazing place!”. As she said this she made a room-sweeping gesture. “You must be terribly excited!”

The stranger’s gaze followed her hands’ motion. ”I don’t think that’s how spren are supposed to wo-” he said as he saw something near the far-wall of the room, under some rough stone buttresses. Was that a… “Wolf?”, he asked.

“Beg your pardon?” Looking again towards that spot, he saw nothing.

“Nevermind. Anyway, my name is, er, Windscar. Have you - ”

“Pleased to meet you, Windscar!”

“- seen a large, wooden bookcase around here? I must have misplaced it while I was displaci…-travelling through the storm.” That damned thing did it intentionally, I bet it.

“Nope! But I’m sure you’ll find it in no time. Books can never be lost permanently in this place. ”

“Neat.” Windscar said, more to himself.

“Indeed! How was your journey, Windscar? And, if I may, by which means did you travel to this place? Did you use Investiture?”

“It was a very pleasant flight - er, journey. Let’s just say -” and he grinned again as he said this “ - I was hurried here by a Picket who was Very Fast. And quite bothersome in temperament.”

“Fascinating!” she said, though Windscar wasn’t entirely convinced that she understood what he meant. “You are new around here, aren’t you?”

He gazed at her, as though in disbelief. “...I just came through that door, er, moments ago.”

“Ah, yes, but I meant really new. As in, new.” She emphasised that last word, making it sound very important and confidential. Like a secret. A something-I-should-be-ashamed-of kind of secret? Or...

Windscar didn’t have time to reply as another loud bang came from the front of the room, and the door opened again. Another robed silhouette, also wet, stepped into the chamber.

“Oh, look, someone new! I will leave you alone to explore this amazing place on your own while I am welcoming our new, most welcomed guest!”

Before he had time to reply she was already halfway towards the entrance. “Awkward indeed.” Windscar muttered. Realizing that he was now alone in the middle of the room, he looked around for points of interest - that is, places to hide from plain sight. Even though no one is actually noticing me. But he just couldn’t bear being in the middle of the room. Or any room hosting more than himself, for that matter.

As he blended with the surroundings alongside the walls, Windscar was glad that he didn’t choose to don his other, very fancy robe which had the interesting habit of changing its colour depending on the preferences of those whose eyes fell upon it. Of course, it would have been a stupid choice even so, especially since he learned that the cloth the robe was made of was not magically enhanced, so it had to behave accordingly with the laws of nature, which meant that episodes of spontaneous self-combustion due to the energy consumed as dozens or hundreds of people stared at it simultaneously were not unheard of. And definitely not pleasant.

Another mental pat on the back at this most wise choice.

He then started asking people if they had seen his bookcase. The process was, of course, Awkward, even though everyone seemed very polite and some even eager to help. For the next couple of minutes he asked quite a lot of people, and no one had the answer.

Maybe I should try later.

Somewhere to his left he saw a peculiar thing. Even though books were piled up everywhere in this room, there in that distinct place lay dozens of them scattered on the ground, scarcely at first but rapidly building up in height. In the middle of that book-mound was… A chair, more like a throne, made of books. Neat. Someone was sitting leisurely atop of it, reading of course. Maybe she knew where his bookcase was.

He strolled towards the high book-throne… thing. The room seemed even bigger than before, both in dimensions and number of people.

Suddenly, Windscar heard a stifled whooshing coming from afar, well beyond the chamber’s walls, and words echoed somewhere deep within him. Books before friends. He made three further steps, but stopped once more as the sound become louder. Some raised their heads from their books again, now more in curiosity than annoyance. Most, including the person lounging on the book-throne thing, continued reading as though nothing was happening,

Closer yet. 17th Shard before the real world. Windscar looked around and felt… Awkward. But not in the usual sense. The sound grew louder and louder, something large and heavy snapping against the rain outside, creating a strange, watery sonata. However, most seemed unbothered by this event.

Release days before birthdays.

...and with that, a loud, crashing sound came from the outside. Windscar could have sworn that he felt the stone floor tremble slightly. Everyone except the lady lounging on the book-throne thing rushed rapidly to the large windows to try and see what happened. He eavesdropped on a nearby conversation.

“Are we under attack?” someone asked eagerly, not at all scared by the prospect of battle.

“Is that, like, even possible?” another replied, “I don’t mean it in the probable-or-not kind of way, but, like, does-this-shared-universe’s-laws-allow-that. Way.”

“I don’t know. I hope so!”. He was definitely eager.

Someone entered the chamber. Windscar turned.

It was Kite, the Awkwardspren, and she bore her characteristic smile even though her hair and clothes were really messed by the storm.

“A large wooden object” she announced, loudly enough so that everyone could hear her, “hit the stables, as it was thrown violently by the storm.”

People gasped in shock.

“Fortunately, no horses were hurt...”

People cheered with happiness.

“...because we have no horses.”

There was silence.

“From what I managed to see under the rubble, it appears to be a wooden chest. Quite heavy.”

Everyone turned towards Windscar, and the silence grew deeper. Even the one lounging on the throne was now staring at him with an indescifrable expression.

“That, er,” Windscar said, feeling more Awkward than ever, “must be my bookcase.”

 

Also, heya to everyone!

[Bort he/him]

Nice Windscar... Welcome to the Knights Awkward

[Mistrunner]

That... was... beautiful...

*ahem* *storyteller face*

Mistrunner barely looks up as the newcomer strides through the open door. Well, now open, she muses. It must be another one wishing for the great and nearly entirely useless powers of the Knights Awkward. She relaxes against her throne of books, clutching her somehow hard copy edition of all the ebooks the great Sanderson has released. Time will tell if this one is worthy for the unequaled glory and awkwardness that envelops one who has spoken the Ideals of Awkwardness and holds true to them.

Mistrunner sits up and revels in the air let in by the newcomer- the same one, mind you- the little-known but quietly powerful Introverted Wind, felt only on the peak of Mount Solitary, the mountain all must climb to reach the sanctuary of awkward Sharders. She then realizes what a long sentence that was, revises it in her head, and attempts to move on with her life.

She feels the awkwardness passing over her in waves until- crash! Something heavy and large is heard to smash into the stables, which they have in case someone figured out how to get a horse up Mount Solitary. She gauges the newcomer's reaction- "That, er, would be my bookcase"- and allows a small smile to flit across her face. A strong new Knight indeed. With a movement that was supposed to be smooth and graceful, Mistrunner manages to trip over no less than seventeen separate objects but eventually manages to rise.

"Windscar! For your ever-awkward and unceasingly... also awkward mannerisms, you are accepted into the elite order of The Knights Awkward. Serve honorably and well, and give your Awkwardspren a sandwich now and then. They seem to enjoy PB&J's." With the conclusion of this statement, she falls back into her throne.

Edited July 21, 2015 by Mistrunner

[Bort he/him]

Just as the Knights were retrieving Windscar's bookcase from the stables, there was another crash. This one from inside the bookcase, sending it back to the floor. When they opened it, the Knights saw a pair of feet sticking out from the pile of books, and long strands of white hair sticking out all around them.

 

The feet started to kick, so one of the Knights reached in and pulled the owner of the feet out. Bortholemew the Blind popped out and landed sitting on the floor. The heavily bearded midget looked up, straightened his spectacles, and scowled at everyone around him.

 

"Another chulling Shardblade!" He announced to all in earshot. "I hate death by Shardblade, although this time I was technically crushed by falling rock, thanks to whoever had that chulling Shardblade. Bah, I need a beardnut."

 

He pushed himself to his feet and shuffled off into the Knights Awkward Library in search of beardy goodness, muttering to himself about Shardblades, coinshots, and cowards.

[Bort he/him]

Bortholemew the Blind had barely sat down when his spanreed started flashing. What was this? He turned the dial, and set the pen to writing.

 

Twenty minutes later, he was heading to the door again, this time, muttering something about Halladren, and wondering what trouble he would find there this time.

[6000j he/him]

(creating my RP char here.)

Enteri walks through the door, staring at a book.

"oh, im here" he says nevously "can i join?"

[Mistrunner]

(creating my RP char here.)

Enteri walks through the door, staring at a book.

"oh, im here" he says nevously "can i join?"

Mistrunner turns a page, then realizes there is a newcomer in the room. "Oh. Erm. Hi!" she says awkwardly, stumbling to her feet. "Speak ye the Words and... um... bond a spren..." she frowns as she tries to remember the exact wording.

 

(Welcome 6000j!)

Edited July 30, 2015 by Mistrunner

[The Honor Spren she/her]

The door slams as Maggie (that's me) returns from outside. She winces, "oops, um. . .sorry?" Her eight bit Szeth t shirt and her too short yoga pants are dripping wet.

"I-I um didnt realize this was a role-play, so I came back, and I have my iPod for foruming." She looks around hopefully then blushes and clutches her kindle. "Books before friends. 17th Shard before the real world. Release dates before birthdays. I will read all Brandon even if it is not cosmere." she mumbles. 

Maggie scuttles up to Mistrunner, noting that a spren had appeared beside her (Maggie not Mist). Good. If she said enough oaths, she would have a shard-kindle before long. "H-hey Mistrunner, will you be my friend?"

Maggie bit her lip. I sound like a five year old when I say that. Why do I have to mke a storming fool of myself all the time? "Never mind," she mutters, before scampering away to a quiet corner.

Edited August 4, 2015 by The Honor Spren