Long Game 15: ...The Shards Themselves...

[Wyrmhero he/him]

This was exactly my comment. Wyrm? Can you fix this?

 

Fixed.

 

I think I'll change my name to "Adonalsium's Last Futile Apprentice" (A.L.F.A.), if possible.

 

Can a forger forge anybody into "no role"?

What happens two turns after the last loyal hemalurgist is forged when the soulstamp dissolves? Does the HI turn back to team good?

 

 

EDIT: Clarified.

 

A Forger cannot Forge a no Role onto a player.

 

The HI does not turn back to the Loyal crew, but the Hemalurgist will discover his treachery when they regain their powers.

[Kaid he/him]

I'm just going to remain as Kaid Aime (you can add the last name now). Anyways, I'm hoping to at least have an interesting role this game! Or make everyone believe I have an interesting role. Or make you believe I have no role. We'll see. I can be very devious. 

[Kaid he/him]

And heres my POV for the game:

 

 

Apparently, the Captain had been right to hire an undercover Mistborn for his ship. Unfortunately, the traitors had moved too fast for even Kaid to react. He lazily opened one eye, looking across the dining area. He was leaning back in his chair against the wall. He had figured after someone had killed that voidbringer that they'd probably try to kill the captain as well. Its not as if you kill for no reason. No, the voidbringer possibly just caught wind of their plan through his mysterious powers and confronted the wrong person. Weird that he could see the demise of the captain but didn't see himself. Kaid didn't pretend to understand how those powers worked. He was a mistborn, his own power was enough. Even now he had his tin burning low to try and glean what he could from the other passengers how they felt about this whole situation.

 

No, if he were being honest its because he still didn't feel safe. The traitor crew that killed the captain wasn't trustworthy. Obviously so, given that they had the title traitor now. But there was something else. It felt like a few of them, while traitors, weren't here to be traitors but rather to kill. And that made them dangerous. Of course, he didn't want them to know he thought of them as dangerous. They were in control, so he sat and waited. Waited until inevitably one of them moved against him. He had the advantage of knowing who the traitors were now. But they didn't know he was Mistborn. If they didn't move against him, fine. He'd be alright with that. But if they did? They wouldn't know what hit them.

[RippleGylf she/her]

Figured I should do some sort of introductory RP...

 

Gylf paced around the perimeter of one of the rooms, pondering a theoretical engineering issue. She loved theory that made the ship go, she just couldn't figure it out when faced with a bunch of nonsensical machinery. Of course, some solutions were obvious; remove obstructions, realign gears, etc. But what would you do if the control software got corrupted? Or if there was fuel leaking? How are you supposed to patch the hole then? Such matters were on her mind as she patrolled the empty room. The room didn't really have a specific purpose; it just helped her to avoid other staring crewmembers. Apparently staring off into space while pacing frightened some people. Gylf couldn't understand why, especially since she was one of the most perceptibly weak people on the ship. She turned around, hoping that walking in the opposite direction would help jog her memory a bit more. If one merely went by numbers, she was the smartest engineer on the ship. Give her any theoretical physics problem, and she could solve it within ten minutes, assuming that there was actually a solution. Sure, she didn't have a mind for intricate code, but there were other engineers for that. No, her problem was pressure. Emotional, not physical. Physical pressure was actually quite easy to calculate. She hated the pressure the others put on her when she was clamming up in front of the relatively simple machinery. Jeers flew through her head, each one tearing a scrap of her soul.

 

Stop. Back to work, back to topic, revenons à nos moutons.

[Bort he/him]

Go on then.

 

After a few games off, I will join this one as Bort, a metallurgist of some renown.

[Kasimir he/him]

Go on then.

 

After a few games off, I will join this one as Bort, a metallurgist of some renown.

Bort! Great to play with you again!

Also, do my eyes deceive me? No beard?

[Kasimir he/him]

Apologies for the double-post. Just wanted to do a bit of RP introducing the very nervous and inexperienced Sonder Kessligh Gist of it is that Sonder got lured to join the venture by being offered a position that he's a little overwhelmed by.

Captain Heron’s Shardship was one of the more diverse environments in which Sonder’d worked. The port was bustling with activity: men and women handling the looming cranes that lifted stacks of cargo onto the waiting Shardship. Some other ships would’ve loaded with proper mechanical cranes; these seemed to be Awakened, bunching in a strangely organic sort of way that Sonder longed to examine closely. He’d never before gotten the chance to look at anything that hadn’t been electromechanical in nature.

Here and there, he thought he noticed someone moving through the air with the distinctive gait of a Mistborn. A shiver ran down his spine. It was true then; Heron Industries was sparing no expense for this particular venture.

He glanced up at the docked ship, surveying her. The proudly-stencilled words on the side declared that the ship belonged to the Heron Industries Mining Corporation.

He exhaled, a long deep breath. No putting it off, Sonder thought. He’d made his choice. He slung his gear over his shoulder, nodded to himself, and headed towards the line that was beginning to form up.

It took a bit of fumbling among his things, as he waited, to locate his papers and to present them to the bored-looking security officer.

“Name?”

“Sonder Kessligh,” he said. “I’m, uh, the Fourth Engineer.” He tried not to flinch as the man looked at his papers.

The security officer glanced down at the papers and then back at his face. “Huh,” was all he said. “Well, all right, then, kid, get on board. You’re late.”

Rust and ruin, Sonder thought, sighing as he nodded to the security officer and headed past him and into the Shardship. First day on the job and he was already late. He was going to be pretty rusting lucky if the Chief didn’t chew him out for it.

-

By the time he’d got his things put away and reported for duty, the Chief wasn’t in the engine room. Privileges of rank, Sonder supposed. He wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to feel relieved or worried.

The Second was on duty though: he was checking in on the loading/unloading system, as Sonder entered. The sound of his boots on the metal grating was loud enough, even in the clamour of the engine room. Second glanced up and at him. “Oh,” he said, flatly. “You’re the new guy. You’re late.”

Wasn’t it supposed to be the Shardship’s first voyage? Sonder wondered. He scuffed a boot against the flooring, and then realised he wasn’t supposed to do that, and tried to draw himself up and appear confident, if penitent. “Yeah, uh, I’m sorry, Second. There were…difficulties.”

Second looked at him, long and hard. “Yeah, well,” he said. “Best get to work, kid. We’ve got a lot of things to do, and you’ve had the juniors scrambling to deal with the fact you weren’t there. Sewage’s your responsibility. Cooling too. You Hemalurgically qualified?”

“Uh, well…”

“Don’t matter,” Second said. He folded his arms across his chest. His gaze was flat; measuring, with a trace of hostility. “You’re not authorised to touch anything Hemalurgic. Got it?”

“Awakened?”

Second shook his head. “You from Nalthis?”

“Uh, no…”

“Then don’t touch anything that has to do with Investiture,” Second said, bluntly. “Got it?”

“Understood,” Sonder muttered.

“Good,” Second said. “Well, what’re you waiting for? Get to it.” He jerked his head vaguely towards the right. “Sewage’s right through there. Go.”

Sonder ducked his head in acknowledgement and headed in the direction Second had indicated, promising himself he would keep his mouth firmly shut. Last thing he needed was to seem more of a fool or a rookie than he’d already appeared.

The recruiter from Heron Industries had made it sound like he was doing Sonder a favour; in a way, he was. Despite his qualifications, his painful lack of experience meant that no one else would’ve taken Sonder on as a Fourth, and the looming pay-gap between Fourth and junior engineer was nothing to scoff at. They even offered a better pay package.

He needed that money. Too many medical loans.

Just this voyage, he told himself. He’d just make this voyage, and then he’d decide if working megacorp was where he wanted to be. Just this once.

“Rustin’ new guy,” Second muttered; softly, but Sonder caught it.

He swallowed and kept walking.

-

“You signing on for Roshar, son?”

“Well, Chief, uh…” Sonder struggled for words. Finally, he said, “I don’t think I’ll be doing the Roshar run.” It happened, of course. Not everyone signed up for the same runs, but the crew’d been more or less the same for the past three runs between Scadrial and Nalthis, with the exception of Second, who’d left and signed on with Errant Ventures instead, transporting fuel.

Karsten Arnkell was one of the most relaxed Chiefs Sonder’d ever known. According to Ersken, the last time they’d lost a lateral stabiliser in the midst of a highstorm on Roshar, Chief’d just shook his head, turned to the waiting engineers, and said, “Rust happens.” Perfectly calm, Ersken said, as though we were docking instead of getting slapped about by one of them highstorms.

He seldom shouted, and always seemed to know what to do in an emergency.

“Any reason why?” Chief asked. “You’re good, son. Think you could make a creditable Fourth with a bit more experience, and then start working your way up the food chain.”

“It’s Roshar, Chief.” Sonder said. “You know. There’s uh, been a whole bunch of ships that go down in the highstorms.” He realised he was fidgeting and struggled to still his hands.

“True,” Chief acknowledged, with a short nod. “There’s always risk. But that’s why we take proper safety precautions and follow procedure.” He smiled, faintly. “As much as we can, at any rate.”

It was said, Sonder thought, that Chief had guts as true as steel: that he was capable of watching his own ship go down in a highstorm without any trace of fear or worry. He believed it.

He said, “I like working here, Chief. But, uh, Heron Industries made a better offer. And I really need the money.”

“Ah,” Chief said, quietly. For a moment, he wore a closed, shuttered expression; it was there in his eyes. “Be careful, son.”

“Chief?”

“You’ve made your own choices, and you’ve got your own needs and priorities,” Chief said. “I can respect that. But be careful: Heron Industries is a megacorporation. And working for a megacorp isn’t the same as working merchant.”

“How so, Chief?”

Chief shrugged. “More competition,” he said. “Plenty of cutthroat business. Shady contracts. Megacorps don’t care about what the unions say, son. They’ll work you like a dog for every half-boxing you earn.”

“I’m not afraid of hard work, Chief.”

He received a nod of respect. “I know. You’ve shown me that more than half-a-dozen times, by now. Still. Working megacorp carries lots of risks. Other corporations won’t hesitate to kidnap, to murder, to send saboteurs…” Chief shrugged, again. He looked worried, now. “It’s a whole new ballgame, son. At that level, things like a Rosharan highstorm look positively mild in comparison.”

“You’ve uh, worked with them before, haven’t you, Chief?”

“Once,” Chief said. “And twice. A couple of times.” He shook his head. “I prefer ordinary cargo runs. Less risk. Less worrying about when someone’s going to stab you in the back.”

Sonder chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Yeah, but, Chief. I really need that pay. Besides, you, uh, made it out. Didn’t you?”

Chief smiled; the worry gone. For a moment, he looked as though he were a thousand miles away, relieving some long-fled memory. “Yeah,” he said, at last. “Guess I did, son. C’mon then. I need you to make sure the auxiliary engines are all green. Can you do that?”

“Got it,” Sonder said, and he began to head off.

“Sonder?”

It was the first time in a long while the Chief’d called him by his name. He drew up short. “Yeah?”

“Good luck. And watch your back.”

He made himself smile. “Yeah, Chief, you don’t need to worry about me. I’ll handle it just fine.”

Edited November 2, 2015 by Kasimir

[Burnt Spaghetti she/her]

Signing up as Ember Ghetti, bearer of any glitter you can imagine.

 

One thing though; I was a bit unsure about signing up, as I do have exams on Tuesday and Thursday (this week), so I might not be that active for the first cycle, but after that I should be able to be active.

[Bort he/him]

Bort! Great to play with you again!

Also, do my eyes deceive me? No beard?

 

Good to see you too Kas, and correct. No beard for this one. Don't worry though, Bortholemew the Blind will return soon enough.

 

=========================================================

 

Bort leaned in close and sniffed the wall. He poked his tongue out and licked it. Continuing his tongue's motion, he licked his lips thoughtfully. This was good metal, imported from far to the south, and forged locally. Bort could tell. It was in the carbon.

 

Ignoring the odd looks from fellow crew members, the metallurgist continued towards his workshop. There, he checked the metal reserves for the ship. Still plenty, still pure.

 

It was Bort's responsibility to ensure that all of the allomancers on board had enough metals in their purest form to perform their duties.

Edited November 2, 2015 by Bort

[The Honey Badger he/him]

Of course I'll still play, But this time I'll be a Waffle chef from Scadrial, by the same name. Man, Can I count that game as a win on my stats? Awesome play fellow eliminators, Unfortunately, I probably won't be an eliminator this time around. 

[Curious Anamaximder he/him]

Basically, the win condition for the traitors was to get the Captain lynched, not simply out number the village, to encourage people to vote a lot on one person every day so the traitors couldn't just overpower with their votes. Alvron realized that we could end the game D1 if we waited until the very last minute to throw votes on him, and after a lot of debate we ended up doing it. This is the result.

Okay. I'm not playing LG15 2.0.

Sorry Wyrm.

[Amanuensis he/him]

Wyrm, if you would be so kind, please change my character name from First of the Dawn to Davenar Leiken.

Edited November 2, 2015 by Adavantos

[Wyrmhero he/him]

The game will start in 24 hours. I have changed the player lists as requested.

[RippleGylf she/her]

Wyrm, you missed me signing up as Gylf on the roster. 

[Wyrmhero he/him]

Whoops, so I did. Fixed that.

[STINK he/him]

Are the docs for the first version of this game not going to be released? 

[Guest]

[polkinghornbd he/him]

thanks, Kipper!  These are really cool!

[Arraenae]

Rae coughed weakly, trying to avoid looking at her surroundings. All of her Breath was gone, and the colors had disappeared with them, along with her Perfect Pitch. Now, everything was monotonous, barely saturated hues and values. It was so ugly she wanted to gag.

 

I never should have Awakened that storming escape pod...

 

She'd commanded it to Find Scadrial. It had found Scadrial, all right. Found it and crashed into it loud enough to deafen Harmony. And to make matters worse, the locals had mugged her and stolen her escape pod, along with the 500-something Breaths in it.

 

Rae stood up and immediately doubled over as coughs wracked her body. Storming pathetic Breath-based lazy immune system...

 

Well, at the very least she needed to find the company that had hired her and get some compensation for her missing breaths. And then she could try getting back into space.

[DeathClutch19 he/him]

Kipper please. Do this everytime. <3

Ur da best

Either that or tell me how.

Edited November 3, 2015 by DeathClutch19

[Guest]

thanks, Kipper!  These are really cool!

Hey, you're cool too!

Kipper please. Do this everytime. <3

Ur da best

Either that or tell me how.

Oh I will. Not like I need to hide my activity at rollover or anything.

Thanks!

It's actually pretty easy. Just click on the clock and all will become clear...you want the BBCode tag once you finish, and then just paste the string into a post.

[The Cow he/him]

Is there still room on the Player List to join this game? I'm still getting a feel for how things work here.

[Clanky he/him]

Yes there is room. As you can see in the fancy countdown below you can sign up anytime before that clock hits zero, or the GM says sign-ups are closed. Neither of those have happened yet so you are very welcome to join!

 

[Biggoron he/him]

Joining!! Finally!! x3

[The Cow he/him]

/join under Bovinus, if that works.