Mid-Range Game 8: Highborn Intrigue

[Renegade he/him]

Highprince Dalinar Kholin has invited you to a very special banquet, at none other than the king’s feasting basin.  Though he declined to tell you his motives, you know better than to turn down an invitation from a man of such status.  Plus, many of your closest allies and enemies are there, meaning that the feast will be abuzz with rumor and gossip.  Such is the endless strife of a lighteyed noble such as yourself, attempting to catch the latest news of the goings-on throughout the warcamps and Alethkar itself.

Of course, hearsay also tends to lead to lies, and lies lead to deceit, and deceit leads to corruption.  While you’ve always felt that you can trust in your comrades, you’re beginning to think that something more may be going on.  That, perhaps, you may not all be working towards the same goal...

Nevertheless, a feast is a feast, so you might as well take the time to enjoy it, right?

The Game

 

Highprince Sadeas is up to his old tricks, slipping poison into a few choice drinks and silently seeding rumors throughout Dalinar Kholin’s warcamp.  Some of Sadeas’ conspirators have reportedly been seeded amongst Dalinar’s own nobles, and as members of the high Alethi society, you have been tasked to find and dispose of them, by any means necessary.  Of course, as everyone knows, absolute power corrupts absolutely, and these conspirators are willing to use that fact to their advantage…

There are two factions in this game: the Conspirators and the Nobles.  Sadeas’s Conspirators know all of the members of their own faction, and win if they outnumber the Nobles.  The Nobles win if they manage to eliminate all of the Conspirators.

Cycles in this game are split up into 24-hour Night turns and 24-hour Day turns.  The game begins on Night 1, but no kill actions may be taken that Night.  During the Day turns, players vote for each other, and the player that has the most votes on them at the end of the Day is brought before Dalinar, tried, and executed for treason.  Tied votes will result in no execution for that Day.

Role and alignment will be revealed upon death, but Corruption (see below) will not.  Assassin and Corrupt Guardsman kills will be indistinguishable in the write-up, but Conspirator kills will be shown differently.  Players that survived an attack will be noted in the write-up (as either protected from the attack by an anonymous player, or saved by Shardplate).

Conspirators & Corruption

 

Sadeas’ Conspirators are the standard Eliminator faction in this game.  They have a group doc to conspire in, but it may only be used during the Night (since it’s too dangerous to meet with each other during the daytime).  The Conspirators can still view the doc (just not edit it) during the Day turns.  Each Night, one of the Conspirators may choose to forgo their Night action to perform a Conspirator Kill.

Unlike the traditional Eliminator faction, the Conspirators can also use the tumultuous atmosphere of the warcamps to their advantage, to create and spread Corruption amongst the lighteyes.  Each Day turn, one of the Conspirators may choose to Corrupt another player as an action.  The Conspirator that performs the Corruption may not take any other actions during that turn, besides voting.  After the Day is over, the target player becomes Corrupt, secretly changing their role ability for the rest of the game (see each role for the exact details).  Players will not be informed if they have become Corrupt.

All players begin the game unCorrupted, including the Conspirators.  The Conspirators are able to Corrupt each other.

Roles

 

While all of you are lighteyes, some of you find yourselves in better positions than others.  Of course, being as secretive and sneaky as possible, the Conspirators may also hold any of the following roles.  Some roles may not necessarily be included.  The Corrupt ability for each role is listed in purple.

Brightlord/Brightlady: One of the common members of the Alethi nobility, you consider yourself “refined,” and believe that everyone should emulate you.  While you may not have any extremely interesting abilities, you can attempt to impose your will upon others through the fine art of persuasion.

• Each Night turn, you may secretly vote for another player via PM.  The player with the most secret votes during the Night is reported as a “villainous scoundrel,” and receives an additional vote against them towards the following Day’s execution, revealed after the Night is over.  Ties result in no vote being placed.
• Your vote actually ends up subtracting one other Night vote placed on the target player.

Artifabrian: With an array of fabrials at your disposal, you can attempt to soothe out the corruption from the nobility.  Whether you'll actually succeed is another matter...

• Each Day turn, you may select a player to target, removing Corruption from them for (only) the following Night and Day.  The target will be informed at the start of the Night that they are not Corrupt for the duration of the cycle.
• You end up spreading the corruption; your target will instead become Corrupt for (only) the following Night and Day, and will not be notified.  If the target is already Corrupt, this has no discernible effect.

Ardent: With a strong faith in Vorinism, and the vision of the Almighty, you are able to discern whose hearts are pure, and whose are not-so-pure.

• Each Night turn, you may select a player to target and discover their alignment (Noble/Conspirator) after the Night is over.
• Your scan will always yield the wrong result (when seeking a Noble, you will receive a Conspirator result, and vice versa).

Guardsman: As is your duty, you defend others from harm.  It might not be the most flashy of jobs, but it could mean the difference between life and death.

• Each Night turn, you may select any player, other than yourself, and guard them from a single attack.
• You unwittingly end up killing your target, rather than defending them.  Oops.

Assassin: You are one of the most devious and sneaky people in the warcamps.  Good thing you’re working for a noble cause… right?

• Each Night turn, you may target any player to kill (other than yourself).
• You unwittingly befriend your target, defending them from a single attack.

Worldsinger: You are a master storyteller, using your stories to promote goodwill and happiness... not as a means of propaganda, obviously!

• Each Day turn, you may target a player and subtly win them over to your way of thinking, changing their vote to a player of your choice.
• You mischievously make your stories so long and monotonous that they put your target to sleep, silencing their vote (rather than changing it).

Courier: You are one of the poor souls who runs messages around the warcamps.  Luckily, that gives you the chance to peek at some of the messages.

• Each Night turn, you may choose two players, and see any PMs between the two of them during the following Day.
• You refuse to deliver any messages between the two target players, preventing them from PMing each other.  (At the end of the Day, you will be informed that no PMs took place between the target players.)

Con Artist: You are an expert at emulating others and putting on secretive guises of secrecy, giving you an edge in many unforeseen situations.

• After each Day execution, you automatically take on the lynched player’s role (but not alignment) for the following Night and Day, along with the non-Corrupted version of their role ability.  If there is no Day execution, or the executed player survived, you do not steal any role, and receive no powers for that cycle.
• You always receive the Corrupt version of the executed player’s role ability (but are not notified of this).

Shardplate: Shardplate is an item that any role may randomly begin with, allowing the wearer to survive one attack that would normally kill them (including the daily execution) before breaking.  Shardplate cannot be given to other players.

Messages

 

Thanks to the warcamps’ complex system of couriers, you are able to carry on multiple secret conversations (i.e. PMs) with your fellow lighteyes.  However, the system comes with a few restrictions:

• PMs may only be started and used during the Day turns, because who ever heard of a courier working the graveyard shift?
• All PMs must include the GM (me).  No exceptions!
• Only 1-on-1 PM conversations are allowed between players; no group PMs.
• You may be notified at the beginning of the Day, saying that you will be unable to contact a specific person for that Day.  Don’t panic, this just means that a courier has gone rogue, and refuses to deliver messages between you and that person.
• Messages can still be sent if all of the Couriers in the game are dead.

Action Order

 

Order of Night Actions

1. Brightlord/Brightlady Vote
2. Protection
3. Kills (except Night 1)
4. Ardent, Courier

• Doc access is allowed to the Conspirators during the Night.

Order of Day Actions

1. Worldsinger
2. Execution (Lynch)
3. Corruption
4. Artifabrian

• PMs are allowed between players during the Day.

And there's the game!  As usual, if you have any game-related questions/clarifications, feel free to ask, either in-thread, or via PM.  If you have not already done so, make sure to read the general rules to get an understanding of the basic rules and terminology in the games.

For roleplay purposes, the signup phase will take place just before Dalinar’s great feast, at the king’s feasting basin.  So if you want to do any pre-game roleplaying (as I’m hoping this game will have some interesting elements of roleplay involved), there’s the place you’ll probably want to get to.  For further reference’s sake, this game takes place several months before the events in The Way of Kings.

On that note, signups will end about a week from now, on August 19, and then the madness and corruption will begin!  If you cannot join the game for some reason and wish to watch, PM me if you'd like to join the Spectator Doc.

---

Player List

1. Draela Heb (Haelbarde)
2. Sheon Idris (Seonid)
3. Brightlord Wannan (Herowannabe)
4. Arilir (Araris Valerian)
5. Seavul Karlon (TheSilverDragon)
6. Brightness Katara (little wilson)
7. Merilee Kavdar (RippleGlyf)
8. Kipper (Kipper)
9. Cleo (Winter Cloud)
10. Bortholemew the Blind (Bort)
11. Seixa (phattemer)
12. Leyton (IrulelikeSTINK)
13. Mace (Macen)
14. Brightlady Nivina Odict (Shallan)
15. Em-son-of-none (Emerald 101)
16. Caesarae (Adamir)
17. Orlok (OrlokTsubodai)
18. Norlav (Alvron)
19. Resha (RavenRadiant7)
20. Eradin (Paranoid King)
21. Vin Elendel (Venture Mistborn)
22. Efrihm (Alvom)
23. Badhab Eony (The Honey Badger)
24. Klanal (Clanky)
25. Patch (Feligon)
26. Mallan (Mailliw73)
27. Owain (TheMightyLopen)
28. Mortago (a smart guy)

Write ups:

 

Night 1: Feeding Frenzy
Day 1: The Sound of Silence
Night 2: An Executed Plan
Day 2: Hit and Miss
Night 3: Justice is Wrong
Day 3: Final Message
Night 4: Broken Shards
Day 4: Element of Surprise
Night 5: Storm’s Approach
Day 5: The Stormwall
Night 6: Mortal Terror
Day 6: Treachery
Night 7: Pros and Cons
Day 7: Broken Plots
Day 8: Shattered Plans
Day 8: The Gauntlet
Night 9: Moments of Silence
Day 9: Backbreaking Work
Night 10: De-scribed
Day 10: Left in the Dark
Night 11: Poisoned Justice
Day 11: The Vanishing Act
Night 12: Vanishing Act Redux
Day 12: All is Shattered
Night 13: The End of All Days
Aftermath: Honor is Dead

Edited October 28, 2016 by Alvron

[Renegade he/him]

Rule Clarifications:

 

The Worldsinger does not change just numbers in the final vote tally, but how the targeted player appears to have voted in the tally.

 

What happens if an uncorrupted Artifabrian targets a player who isn't corrupted?

An uncorrupted Artifabrian that targets a player who isn't corrupted will just make the target aware that they aren't Corrupt for the following Night and Day.

 

May we start a PM with a particular player and keep it open for the entire game, provided we don't talk in it during the Night or per the GM's instructions?

Yes.

 

Are Brightlords/Brightladies the only players who can use the Night vote?

 

Yes.  This includes Brightlords/Brightladies with Shardplate, as well.

 

What happens if an Artifabrian and Corrupt Artifabrian target the same player?

 

If this occurs, the regular (non-Corrupted) Artifabrian's ability takes precedence.  The target will not be Corrupt for the following cycle, and will be informed of this, as usual.

 

If a player is attacked during the Night, and they have Shardplate and are being protected by a Guardsman, what happens?

 

In this case, the Guardsman's protective ability takes precedence over the Shardplate, so the player will not lose their Plate.

Edited August 21, 2015 by Renegade

[Haelbarde he/him]

Woo! Rosharan game. Couldn't make the last one so, sign me up!

 

Edit 1: Now that I've actually read over the rules, I'm even more excited for it. As for who my character will be... technically, Ableah is around and probably still alive, but I better leave him be. He's in a different war camp anyway. So, I'll get back to you on that one.

Edited August 12, 2015 by Haelbarde

[Seonid he/him]

Go ahead and sign me up. Sheon Idris, the retired king of Arelon (with all due thanks to Wilson), finds himself on Roshar. As former royalty himself, what would be more natural than to find himself at the Highprince's feast?

[Herowannabe he/him]

Brightlord Wannan is immortal. However, he is thoroughly, utterly, and and irrationally convinced that he is mortal. Why? Because he died once, so he knows it can happen again. Wannan is also a devoted follower of the Diagram, and will happily expound on it to anyone around, whether or not they are interested. 

What's that you say? Wasn't Wannan dark-eyed in the last game? To that, I say: Was he? Or did he just want to APPEAR to be dark-eyed?

 

Question for the GM:

What happens if the (uncorrupted) Antifabrian targets a player who isn't corrupted?

[Renegade he/him]

Question for the GM:

What happens if the (uncorrupted) Antifabrian targets a player who isn't corrupted?

 

An uncorrupted Artifabrian that targets a player who isn't corrupted will just make the target aware that they aren't Corrupt for the following Night and Day.

[Araris Valerian he/him]

I'm in! Arilir is not quite sure what he is, because of the roles. But he likes to eat a lot and is a fair hand at cooking as well.

[TheSilverDragon he/him]

Looks like fun! I think I'll be playing as  Seavul Karlon, someone who knows everyone, but no one knows who he really is.

[little wilson she/her]

Brightness Katara is in. She is the daughter of Brightness Kenara who was murdered during the Alethi War of Unification by a scoundrel of a Shardbearing spy of Prince Aladar. Needless to say, Katara is not a fan of Aladar.

[RippleGylf she/her]

I'll sign up as Merilee Kavdar, a young lady who really doesn't want to be there. She's about as social as a stick.

Edited August 13, 2015 by RippleGylf

[Kipper]

Kipper is in.

I nearly decided against it, but hopefully I'll have time.

[Haelbarde he/him]

Brightness Katara is in. She is the daughter of Brightness Kenara who was murdered during the Alethi War of Unification by a scoundrel of a Shardbearing spy of Prince Aladar. Needless to say, Katara is not a fan of Aladar.

Is Brightness Katara in anyway related to Original Wilson,  or Kiireon? Should I be getting my banner back out/redone?

[Bort he/him]

A spark of light, and a white hair started to curl around in the air above one of the chasms closest to Dalinar's war camp. It quickly grew into a beard and, with a pop, deposited Bortholemew the Blind into mid air above a chasm. "St-" was all he got out before he started falling.

 

Fortunately, the beard was long enough, and Bortholemew's knot tying skills were fast enough, that he was able to lasso him to the chasm wall. From there, the beard helped him to the top. He slipped into Dalinar's war camp when no-one was looking. Now... What was going on here? And how would it try to stop him finding the trailweaver's pipes, which were the next part of the clue to the Shardmarks?

 

Signing up as Bortholemew the Blind.

[phattemer]

I'll be Seixa, an unassuming man who somehow managed to be in two places at once. Hopefully the other him will come here soon as well, so he can have an interesting conversation with himself.

[STINK he/him]

Leyton will be joining up, hoping to see some of the finest things that Roshar offers.

[Macen he/him]

Mace here. He is son of Brightlord Ace (the one who was in MR3, I think). He is named after his fathers Shard MAce.

He is a gentleman and a ladies man... at least he thinks he is.

 

Brightness Katara is in. She is the daughter of Brightness Kenara who was murdered during the Alethi War of Unification by a scoundrel of a Shardbearing spy of Prince Aladar. Needless to say, Katara is not a fan of Aladar.

 

I'm joining in. You get your chance at revenge. But, I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of killing the son of your mothers killer. Sorry.

Edited August 13, 2015 by Macen

[phattemer]

Welcome to Sanderson Elimination, STINK.

[little wilson she/her]

Is Brightness Katara in anyway related to Original Wilson,  or Kiireon? Should I be getting my banner back out/redone?

 

If you'd like, you can. Katara is only very distantly related to Original Wilson, though. Actually, all of my Cosmere characters are related to Original Wilson is some way. Most are very distant relations. The closest was Wick Wilson in MR6, since he was her great uncle or something like that. The rest are all who-knows-how-many-great-nieces to her. I was hoping that if she'd survived LG12 that she'd have direct descendants, but alas. (Note: she did survive. She absorbed the fire that tried to consume her and now has fire manipulation skills.   I would've showed those if I'd survived a little longer in MR7, but alas (Zhier would've seen someone messing around with fire). I have a horrible habit of dying just before I can bring to life the RP I want....)

 

I'm joining in. You get your chance at revenge. But, I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of killing the son of your mothers killer. Sorry.

 

Aw, but what if she wanted to kill the son of her mother's killer?! *sigh* I lead such a hard life, having to settle for who I (may) get to kill....

[Shallan she/her]

Brightlady Nivina Odict is definitely in! (And in case people haven't noticed, all my names are anagrams of my original one- Vindication)

[Emerald101 he/him]

Em-son-of-none Finally arrived at the shattered plains, riding in a Chull-pulled wagon. Nasty crab-things he thought to himself. He'd traveled across the entire length of Roshar to get here today. He had learned many things in his travels, pottery and chain-mail creation not the least of what he'd learned, but that wasn't why he was here. Maybe here, in this Shaman-forsaken land, he'd finally find answers. He had to learn who his parents had been.

 

Em-son-of-none, (Em for short) a Shin orphan, is joining in! And. . . wow. I even surprised myself with how detailed my character is. Definitely my best RP to date.

[Adamir he/him]

Fanfiction Mode Enabled. Voidbinding Speculation Initiated.

 

'You're late.'

 

I sighed.

 

'The entrails told me you'd arrive yesterday.'

 

'And the wine told me I'd arrive tomorrow,' I replied.

 

'Extispicy,' he mumbled while slicing open the raven's ribs, 'is a very precise art. The entrails never lie, you were simply late.' 

 

'Wait a moment. So its now my fault that the entrails got the time wrong?'

 

Kagé sighed, discarding the knife and pulling the ribs to either side to expose a recently beating heart by his nails. I tried to keep my stomach under control and maintain my last meal. 'The art is never wrong. This... your action is wrong. You should have been here twenty minutes ago. You deviated from your semita, do you know how many of my readings will go awry because of that?' He tugged at a black mustache that hung below the chin, inadvertently staining it red. His fingers ran over the bird with more enthusiasm, albeit restrained, than I thought possible for the subject matter. 'I'll have a visitor, in the next few minutes, if your broken semita doesn't stretch too far.'

 

Kagé jogged up the stairs, leaving me to deal with the raven. While he rinsed the blood off his fingers, I looked for a sack. While he held his knife under the water, I tried not to think about what I was doing, and picked up the bird. While he carefully washed out every last trace of blood from his coal black mustache, I ran a cloth over the crimson altar. Sometimes, I wonder which of us had the better part of our deal.

 

'If my semita is such an issue,' I yelled up the stairs while I wiped away the last traces of blood on the altar, 'why don't you just fix it?'

 

'You,' he replied with more than a touch of annoyance in his voice, 'You still don't understand. Interfere with a semita, and you go against fate. Try to correct a semita, you can only break it further. I, I have done too much damage, simply because you know it is broken. Now, you will be conscious of its fracture. And that may make Libat's task all the harder, may his burdens lessen as your semita rights itself.'

 

We didn't always agree on everything. Let me correct that sentence; we didn't agree on anything. But to hear his glimpses of the future, it was worth humoring a senile old lighteyes. His help, while costly, was invaluable. To know the exact hour a shop would be unwatched, the exact minute when a merchant's guards grew distracted, days before it happened. It was a thing of Voidbringers, I knew, but with profits on the line, I couldn't care less.

 

At the first sigh from behind me, I swung the sack behind the altar and hid my bloodied hands behind my back.

 

A darkeyed woman in a red gown glanced distastefully at the altar, muttering something I couldn't quite hear. Judging by the tone, it didn't sound complimentary. The hood on her cloak stopped directly above emerald eyes amidst coppery Makabaki skin. Black runic patterns I couldn't decipher made their way along her sleeves, looping around and rejoining with themselves. There was no hair to either compliment or skirmish her other features, with a thick, well defined bone structure. This was a woman I could never call 'beautiful' - the closest word was 'unnerving'. Or possibly terrifying. Her expression remained distasteful, glancing at my bloodied hands.

 

Kagé slowly made his way down the stairs, ignoring his guest's obvious impatience. I found myself wanting to make an excuse and step away from the woman and what seemed like an aura of distaste, but couldn't quite bring myself to it. If I moved, I would catch her attention. And while in hindsight – actually, never mind. In hindsight, my fear was completely valid. Even unarmed, she looked dangerous. How Kagé could take a leisurely walk down the stairs with her waiting at the bottom, I would never understand. Or perhaps it was because she was waiting at the bottom that he slowed his pace. I would probably do the same.

 

She turned to him, allowing me an opportunity to scurry to the doorway. Her tone was low, but her voice still reached me clearly from across the room, with a heavy Makabari accent – I was right about that much from the skin tone.

 

'Ossein sent me to consult your blasphemies.' Her accent stretched the first syllable of each word, while placing more emphasis on the end. They were spoken calmly, but I still had to use all my conviction to avoid bolting through the door.

 

Kagé frowned, glancing at the altar. 'Caesarae!' He always liked to yell when he had an excuse, even if I were in the same room. 'Bring back the bird, there are more answers I can pull out of it.'

 

I tried to keep my visible trembling to a minimum, aiming for a confident walk back to the altar. I knew thugs and brightlords alike with the same aura as this woman in red; show fear, and they would latch on like wolves to lone deer. I was inexplicably terrified, but managed to restrain it. Sighing, I reached into the sack, pulled out the bird – getting more blood over my arms – and laid it in front of Kagé. He pulled out his newly cleaned knife, and put it to work once more, swearing under his breath about re-using entrails.

 

The woman gave me a disdainful look, and I felt the urge to bolt for the door. The same urge that a cremling might feel when faced with an axehound, and, like said cremling, I could barely bring myself to twitch. The fear of rabbits faced with foxes, too terrified to run. Kagé glanced up, specks of blood beneath his eye, and noticed.

 

'Lysen,' he sighed, 'drop the charm. Your 'blasphemies' are no different to mine.'

 

A moment later, I felt something lift from the air around me. It was as if I had stood in a smoke filled room for so long that I had learned to ignore it. And now I had stepped out to fresh air, feeling release from the oppressive weight I hadn't even noticed and marveling at how I could have breathed before. I took several deep breaths, savoring what felt like new found freedom after years in chains; something I could only remember as a concept. And I realized the true weight of that crushing, oppressive fear.

 

'That...' I searched for words. 'That was terrifying. That was the worst feeling of my life.'

 

Kagé chuckled as he returned to the raven. 'My assistant has a tenancy to exaggerate and run with his imagination, don't take it personally. He does it to everyone.'

 

'And...' I choked out through my teeth, 'Does she do that to everyone?'

 

'Only,' Lysen chipped in, 'to people like Kagé. And people who help him.'

 

I flinched, taking another excuse to scurry for the door.

 

'Stop,' Kagé hissed, pulling out what I suspected to be either a lung or a liver. His eyes focused on patterns I couldn't see, glinting with barely restrained enthusiasm as blood began to drip down his wrist and stain his already crimson tunic. 'The man you are looking for will attend Dalinar's feast. Payment?'

 

'Twenty emerald broams. After I have his head. Which, by what you've told me, will be impossible while he attends. Give me something better.'

 

Kagé glanced to me. 'How well do you think you could imitate a Brightlord?'

 

I answered by tracing the edge of one of my eyes, drawing emphasis to the color. 'A darkeyed brightlord, you say?'

 

He ignored me, making his way to a shelf and pulling down a fist-sized casket. 'A darkeyes in Kholinar found a way to make pieces of glass small enough to slip in to the eyeball, and linger without damaging your vision. You've always been hard of sight, I remember?'

 

I didn't give a response. That was a sore point for me; a thief who couldn't spot a broam at twenty meters.

 

'No matter,' he continued. 'The inventor was killed, quietly, discreetly, and her workshop was burned to the ground. I had contacts among the Kholinar City Watch, who managed to pull four pairs from the wreckage. Take these, get in there, and kill Lysen's target. Fifteen, fifteen of the twenty broams will be yours; consider it an incentive to keep working for me. I would have Lysen go, but as you can see, she wouldn't fit the image of a Brightlady, by appearance or, or mannerism.'

 

Joining as Caesarae, a Darkeyed thief with contact lenses; I always wondered why no one used them, then realized that were they to be invented, the Vorin church and every Lighteyes in the nation would pounce on the inventor. Occasional repeated words are not typos - they are part of Kagé's accent.

Edited August 13, 2015 by Adamir

[Orlok Tsubodai he/him]

I feel intimidated my all of the RPing going on! I shall endeavour to do likewise once I have thought of and fleshed out a character, but for the meantime would like to sign up as Orlok (subject to change)!

[Alvron he/him]

Norlav stood shirtless in the riddens of the highstorm that had just past.  The rain soaking his hair, plastering it to his skin.  While most of his hair was jet black, it had started to turn grey around his temples.  Water dripped from his head to land on his broad chest that, like his arms, were covered in old scars.

 

Scars he had received through a life as a mercenary.  At least most of them were.  Others, newer ones, were from his brief stint as a surgeon in the Blackthorns army during the now famous Alethi War of Unification.  How he went from a heterochromatic mercenary to surgeon to one of Dalinars Brightlords was a tale all it's own.

 

But that was a lifetime ago and things change over time if they want to survive.  Now it seemed a new threat had raised it's head and once again Norlav was caught in the middle of it.

[RavenRadient7 she/her]

Far away from Brightlord Dalinar's camp, out on the Shattered Plains, one spot seemed to lose sunlight for a brief moment. Only a moment, before the light came back, along with another figure.

 

Raven looked out along the Plains and sighed. "Colors, this can never be easy, can it? No, I have to actually walk into camp, rather than just appear there."

 

The paper crane sitting on her shoulder coughed. "Raven, careful. We're on Roshar now."

 

"I know that. You did grab the safehand, right?"

 

Ien huffed, his beak opening and shutting without a word. Raven took that as a 'yes,' and opened her case, quickly pulling out what she needed.

 

It wasn't too hard to add in the safehand, as cumbersome as she found it, and it wasn't that hard to lighten her eyes. Name and identity, though, that was harder. "Any suggestions, Ien?"

 

"Ryna?"

 

She glared at him. "Not funny. How about...Rese?"

 

He snorted. "No."

 

"Resha," she decided. "Resha, lighteyed scholar of chickens and other Shin animals, and her..." She dug back through her case and pulled out a book. "And she always has her notebook with her."

 

Ien unfolded and folded, taking on a form closer to human. "Raven..."

 

"Resha," she corrected. "And you almost got caught last time. In the book with you."

 

Ien scowled, but unfolded and floated down into the open book. Resha quickly shut it, and stuffed it back into her case.

 

"Time to make my presence known, meet new people, try and track down Bortholemew, and not get killed. Again. What fun."

 

Second game! I'm excited to play, and looking forward to how both the roles and the longer format plays out.

 

I'm joining as Resha, scholar of Shin animals, secretly a Knight Awkward planning to aid Bortolemew in his quest.

Edited August 14, 2015 by RavenRadient7

[Paranoid King he/him]

Decided to make a new, lasting character. I hope the RP isn't too long.

 

Backstory:

The man walked through the crowd, drawing stares from those he passed. It could have been his looks, although it was unlikely. His eyes, skin, and hair were the same brown color as most of the other peasants. He wore the same clothing as the others in the crowd, though slightly less patched and frayed.

Perhaps it was his attitude. Rather than looking despondent, with eyes downcast and a slumped back, he held his head high, striding through the crowd with the expression of a man who knows he has a purpose.

Or perhaps it was the magnificent sword in the sheath on his belt.

All that could be seen of the sword was the hilt, yet that alone would make almost any other person envious. The pommel held a large emerald, and the hilt was carved from fine mahogany, with streaks of gold. The design was marvelous. The one who had made this sword was likely paid a kingly sum for his craftsmanship. The hand of the man rested on the sword, giving no doubt that he considered it his own.

As the man's eyes strayed across the crowd, they lingered on one of the darkeyes. Unlike many others in the crowd, the peasant was caught up in his own thoughts, paying no notice to the man with the sword. So absorbed was the peasant that, heedless of where he was moving, he bumped into the man. Mumbling a quiet apology, the man finally looked up, and his eyes registered surprise before the crowd swept them away. The sword bearer wondered at the fate of this kingdom, so filled with poor and so devoid of happiness. Swept away in his own thoughts, he continued down the street, moving closer to his own goal.


Maliss moved among the peasants. He was unnoticed. He doubted anyone else cared for him, sweeping him aside to watch the man with the sword. That was the way it should be. For Maliss was no peasant, but a thief. One whose skill was great, but whose reputation was almost unknown. It was said that he could tell real gold from fake, merely by touching it. He tried to supress these rumors, but there was no denying that they were true. This was his plan as he moved towards the one with the sword. Surely no one would be foolish enough to walk around unguarded with a real weapon like that. Pretending to be wrapped up in his own thoughts, he bumped shoulders with the man, reaching for the hilt of the sword. Expecting it to be a fake, his fingers brushed . . . air.

Looking up at the man, he was sure his confusion was obvious. Either he was growing clumsier or this man was very adroit at maneuvering. Perhaps the man's skill made up for his lack of subterfuge. Trying a different tactic, he followed behind the man, making a show of pushing through the crowd to meet him.
“Cousin!” He exclaimed with a fake accent. “It has been many years. I did not recognize you at first. We must meet to discuss your travels.”
The man turned towards him. Strangely, not a hint of surprise showed on his face. He grinned broadly. “I did not expect to see you here, my cousin. Come, let us go to an inn. What think you of the Golden Loft?”
Maliss gaped. The Golden Loft was the richest lodging house in the city, perhaps even the entirety of the kingdom. This man expected him to pay hundreds of spheres for his own comfort. Surely he realized that Maliss was not a peasant, or he would never have made such an offer. He almost called off the stunt there, but hesitated.
This sword would mean never sleeping in the street again. It would be sure to cover whatever expenses this man expeced him to pay.
Suddenly another thought struck him. This man was a foreigner. He seemed to have no clue of the rights withheld from darkeyes. There was no way a darkeyes could go to an inn like that and not draw attention. This scam would be easier to pull than he had thought.
Recovering quickly, he proposed a different offer. “I apologize, but I have fallen upon hard times, and have limited funds. Perhaps The Glowing Sphere would fit our purposes better? ”
The man smiled. “That will do.” was all he said.

Meeting at the aforementioned place, each man eyed the other warily. The same thought was on both of their minds. This man is not what he seems. Maliss was the first to break the silence.
“So...Where have your travels in the far east taken you?”
The other raised a hand. “This tavern is infrequently used and safe from eavesdroppers. There is no need to keep up the charade. As such, before I tell you anything about myself, I want to know who you are.”
Maliss was taken aback by this man's bluntness. Giving a predevised story, he explained that he was a purveyor of fine artifacts. Determining that this land held little more to add to his collection, he had locked his shop and prepared to leave to the neighboring country for a few months. On his way, however, he had been drawn by this man's sword. He had taken him aside in hopes of learning more about this fine piece of weaponry.
The man nodded, then asked one more question. “Any why, may I ask, are you dressed as a peasant?”
“This land is dangerous. Crowds are filled with thieves and pickpockets, and as I was carrying some large amount of money, I determined that disguising myself was the best way to avoid being robbed.”
The man nodded, but with an expression that made him seem as though he was considering something. Finally he looked back at Maliss. “As you have told who you are, it is only right that I do the same. My name is Tri Kery, and I am...an explorer.”
The man drew the sword, laying it on the table. Maliss felt his mouth water as he considered the inlaid gems on the blade, the diamond sheen, and the perfect balance it appeared to have. “It is wonderful,” he said. “I have never seen its like before.”

Tri Kery shook his head. “It is not what it appears.” Picking up the sword, he considered it a moment, then suddenly turned and plunged it into the chest of Maliss.
Maliss felt his eyes go wide from shock, but realized that he didn't feel any pain. Moving his hand through the sword, he found that it was an illusion. Still confused, he turned to Kery. “It seems to be an illusion. But you handle it as though it is real.”
The other nodded. “It is a simple image to most. But this sword has declared me its master and, for better or for worse, I am the only one who can feel its weight.”
Maliss groaned inwardly. The man had played him, tricking him into paying for room and board at the in, while leaving Maliss with nothing to steal. Noticing his distress, the other man smiled. “If you are looking for fine artifacts, the sword is not the only one I have.”
Maliss felt his heart lift as the man pulled a small container out of his pocket. Opening it, the man reached for the dagger inside. Suddenly he jerked back, a small cut on his palm. Holding his hand, the man motioned for Maliss to examine it.
Cautiously, for he had seen the ease by which Kery had been cut, maliss reached into the box, pulling out a finely crafted dagger. The hilt was black as ebony, and the blade seemed to be made of the darkest obsidian. Maliss felt pulled to it. He no longer wanted it to sell for a fraction of its worth. He wanted it for his own, regardless of the cost.
Placing it back in the case, Maliss reached for his purse. “How much?” he asked, knowing that he would willingly pay whatever the man named.
“80 emerald broams.”
Maliss snapped back to his senses. That was a ludicrous fee, even for a work of this magnitude. Besides, he didn't have that much money.“Surely you can see that is far too much, even for this.” He said out loud.
Tri Kery smiled. “Your story checks out.” was all he said.
Maliss realized that he didn't need to negotiate. Now that he had a target, he would strike while the man was sleeping.
“I can't deal with your foolery tonight,” said Maliss, putting a hand to his brow. “Perhaps after a nights rest, we can come to an agreement.”
Kery considered it for a moment, then glanced out the window at the setting sun.
“Agreed”, he said, rising from the table.

Late into the night, Maliss rose from his bed. He had not slept, but had spent same time listening to the snores from the adjacent room. He had eventually decided to steal both the sword and dagger. Despite being unable to touch it, there were still ways to sell it for a hefty sum. Finally rising, he snuck over to the door. Withdrawing a small vial of oil from his pocket, he greased the hinges. Soon he moved out into the hallway, pausing at the next room over. Liberally applying the oil, he waited a few moments, then soundlessly moved into the room. The man was asleep on his bed, scabbard leaning against the side. Maliss grinned. He moved over, lifted the scabbard, and belted it around his waist. He moved out the door, ready to retrieve the few belongings he had left by his bedside and escape.
He had only just left the room when he noticed that the sword was gone. The scabbard was still belted around his waist, but the sword was not inside. Glancing back into the room, he noticed the sword still lay by the bed. Crouching, he returned to the bedside, snatching at the sword. His fingers, of course, passed right through it.
Giving up on that approach, he turned to the box the man had shown him earlier. It was deep in the man's pocket, but through stealthy movements, he retrieved it. Moving to return to his room, he paused. The man had said that he could touch the sword because he was its master. Would killing him allow Maliss to become the master of the sword? Although assassination was not often in his line of work, Maliss turned, drawing the dagger from the ornately carved box. He turned, ready to slay Tri Kery.
The man was gone. Where he had lay there rested a note.
Congratulations! I see that you have managed to convince the dagger to like you. I don't know how you did it. I've been trying for months. May you find success in unlocking its powers.
Maliss glanced at the dagger. Powers? He supposed it could bear some magic. Even as he looked at it, he could feel it pulling on him. He could sense indistinct thoughts coming from it. Treachery. Travel. Terror. Transfiguration. “Treachery.” he mused. “it makes a good name for it. Satisfied with the night's events, he returned to his room, fully planning to rest peacefully for the rest of the night. Only a few minutes later, though, he noticed something.
His coin pouch was missing.

 

Eradin is joining. He is a most confusing sort. His eyes have been reported to fluctuate, sometimes light blue, other times a deep brown. He enjoys debates and confusion, and he must be a rich swordsman, because he has a magnificent sword belted to his waist.

Edited August 14, 2015 by Paranoid King