Will Mraize hunt Jasnah?

[Toaster Retribution]

He has attempted to assassinate her several times, and his assassins have been constantly failing. So what I wonder is if he still cares about killing Jasnah since Radiants are now known to everyone? And if he does, will he decide to do the deed personally, given the various brands of incompetence his minions has showed off?

[Elsecaller_17.5]

1 hour ago, Toaster Retribution said:

He has attempted to assassinate her several times

Several? I can only remember the one on the ship.

As for the rest of it it would depend on what his motive for killing Jasnah is, as far as I’m aware we’re still in the dark on that.

[Karger]

1 minute ago, Truthwatcher_17.5 said:

Several? I can only remember the one on the ship.

Correct.

1 hour ago, Toaster Retribution said:

incompetence his minions has showed off?

Um.  It almost worked.  They stabbed her in the chest and she only escaped because she had some extremely good plans for what to do in this kind of situation.

3 minutes ago, Truthwatcher_17.5 said:

As for the rest of it it would depend on what his motive for killing Jasnah is, as far as I’m aware we’re still in the dark on that.

We are.

[Toaster Retribution]

The Ghostbloods has attempted several instances of assassination on Jasnah. She says so herself, and we see an attempt on her life in WoK too. 

13 minutes ago, Karger said:

Um.  It almost worked.  They stabbed her in the chest and she only escaped because she had some extremely good plans for what to do in this kind of situation.

True. I was thinking more of Kabsal to be honest.

[Karger]

16 minutes ago, Toaster Retribution said:

True. I was thinking more of Kabsal to be honest.

Another fairly good plan actually.  Jasnah is awesome.  Assassinating someone of her caliber is incredibly difficult(as well as a crime against humanity itself).

[Toaster Retribution]

Just now, Karger said:

Another fairly good plan actually.  Jasnah is awesome.  Assassinating someone of her caliber is incredibly difficult(as well as a crime against humanity itself).

In a Mraize vs Jasnah scenario, I will be on team Mraize. Partially because I like him more, but also because it would be a nice development if Jasnah lost for once, just like it was a good change to not have Kaladin save everyone in OB. 

As for Kabsal, there are a LOT more efficient ways of poisoning someone than dressing up as someone Jasnah will instantly dislike and try to feed her poisoned bread. 

[Karger]

42 minutes ago, Toaster Retribution said:

In a Mraize vs Jasnah scenario, I will be on team Mraize. Partially because I like him more, but also because it would be a nice development if Jasnah lost for once, just like it was a good change to not have Kaladin save everyone in OB. 

Jasnah lost in WoR.  She completely failed to stop the voidbringer army and at the beginning of OB most of her lintel was useless.

[Toaster Retribution]

28 minutes ago, Karger said:

Jasnah lost in WoR.  She completely failed to stop the voidbringer army and at the beginning of OB most of her lintel was useless.

Everyone lost at the end of WoR. That isn’t specific for Jasnah. And while her intel was outdated, it was certainly not useless. It did help her get Ash and Taln for example. 

[Karger]

5 minutes ago, Toaster Retribution said:

Everyone lost at the end of WoR. That isn’t specific for Jasnah. And while her intel was outdated, it was certainly not useless. It did help her get Ash and Taln for example. 

That was intell that Hoid gave her not her years of research.  I personally think that finding that several years of your life were wasted is a bit of a loss.  Also Kaladin certainly won(he did everything he could be expected to do and was happy about it at least briefly), Dalinar won.

[Kon-Tiki]

I tend to think the reason the Ghostbloods want to kill Jasnah is because she thwarted some of their plans to kill Gavilar, who was key in expanding the Sons of Honor and was basically a rival, though she probably didn't know much of who they were or what they wanted Gavilar dead. Those original reasons are extremely moot, and sending resources after her has proved pretty costly. I think they'd be minded to leave her alone of they thought she'd leave them alone

[Toaster Retribution]

10 hours ago, Karger said:

That was intell that Hoid gave her not her years of research.  I personally think that finding that several years of your life were wasted is a bit of a loss.  Also Kaladin certainly won(he did everything he could be expected to do and was happy about it at least briefly), Dalinar won.

If it werent for Jasnahs research, Dalinar would have brought his parshmen to Narak and Shallan probably wouldnt have found the Oathgate. So Jasnahs research basically saved everyone.

I’ll give you that Kaladin won, but Dalinar failed in two main objectives: he didnt stop the Voidbringers and he didnt unite the Highprinces. 

[Karger]

21 hours ago, Toaster Retribution said:

I’ll give you that Kaladin won, but Dalinar failed in two main objectives: he didnt stop the Voidbringers and he didnt unite the Highprinces. 

He came much closer to uniting them then anyone realy expected.

21 hours ago, Toaster Retribution said:

If it werent for Jasnahs research, Dalinar would have brought his parshmen to Narak and Shallan probably wouldnt have found the Oathgate. So Jasnahs research basically saved everyone.

Shallan might have found the oathgate but Jasanh still found herself years behind.

Edited September 8, 2019 by Karger

[Solant]

We don't fully understand Mraize's motivations yet. I suspect it will depend on how much it serves his purposes having a heretic as the Alethi queen. It's going to cause chaos and disruption within the Alethi culture and the Vorin church, and he seems to thrive on those things in general so it's hard to say.

[Karger]

1 hour ago, Solant said:

We don't fully understand Mraize's motivations yet. I suspect it will depend on how much it serves his purposes having a heretic as the Alethi queen. It's going to cause chaos and disruption within the Alethi culture and the Vorin church, and he seems to thrive on those things in general so it's hard to say.

Considering all that Dalinar has been doing I don't think that this will make much difference.  After all Jasnah is not stupid enough to rock the boat in a major way for absolutely no reason.

[Toaster Retribution]

6 hours ago, Karger said:

He came much closer to uniting them then anyone realy expected.

Shallan might have found the oathgate but Jasanh still found herself years behind.

You cant say that Dalinar succeeded with his goal because he failed a bit less than most people expected him too. 

Jasnah indirectly saved her entire family, a couple of Radiants and a huge part of the Alethkar armies (and Mraize). I think she finds that more important than research that didnt go anywhere. 

[Gderu]

Dalinar might not have won, but the fact that he did much better than everyone expected, and the fact that he beat the parshendi, makes it feel like he did win. Jasnah might have suffered a defeat, but because of the fact that we don't get much viewpoints from her, and because she still showed her confident self to everyone else, it didn't feel like she lost. 

[Karger]

2 hours ago, Gderu said:

because she still showed her confident self to everyone else, it didn't feel like she lost. 

Does Jasnah ever not show her confident self?

[Gderu]

That's the point. It doesn't feel like she lost because the characters we are seeing the world through don't feel that she lost.

[Karger]

6 hours ago, Gderu said:

That's the point. It doesn't feel like she lost because the characters we are seeing the world through don't feel that she lost.

Jasnah is a careful planner and does her best to be ready for every situation.  She is however clearly not infallible.  We have seen her make numerous mistakes.

[Pathfinder]

On 9/8/2019 at 10:09 AM, Karger said:

Does Jasnah ever not show her confident self?

Four scenes below off the top of my head. If your comment was a tongue in cheek joke, feel free to disregard my post. 

 

Words of Radiance page 17 (spoiled for length)

Spoiler

Jasnah walked to where the corridors crossed, then watched them go. Where once drums had sounded, screams suddenly rose. Oh no . . . Jasnah turned with alarm, then grabbed her skirt and ran as hard as she could. A dozen different potential disasters raced through her mind. What else could happen on this broken night, when shadows stood up and her father looked upon her with suspicion? Nerves stretched thin, she reached the steps and started climbing. It took her far too long. She could hear the screams as she climbed and finally emerged into chaos. Dead bodies in one direction, a demolished wall in the other. How . . . The destruction led toward her father’s rooms. The entire palace shook, and a crunch echoed from that direction. No, no, no! She passed Shardblade cuts on the stone walls as she ran. Please. Corpses with burned eyes. Bodies littered the floor like discarded bones at the dinner table. Not this. A broken doorway. Her father’s quarters. Jasnah stopped in the hallway, gasping. Control yourself, control . . . She couldn’t. Not now. Frantic, she ran into the quarters, though a Shardbearer would kill her with ease. She wasn’t thinking straight. She should get someone who could help. Dalinar? He’d be drunk. Sadeas, then. The room looked like it had been hit by a highstorm. Furniture in a shambles, splinters everywhere. The balcony doors were broken outward. Someone lurched toward them, a man in her father’s Shardplate. Tearim, the bodyguard? No. The helm was broken. It was not Tearim, but Gavilar. Someone on the balcony screamed. “Father!” Jasnah shouted. Gavilar hesitated as he stepped out onto the balcony, looking back at her. The balcony broke beneath him. Jasnah screamed, dashing through the room to the broken balcony, falling to her knees at the edge. Wind tugged locks of hair loose from her bun as she watched two men fall. Her father, and the Shin man in white from the feast. The Shin man glowed with a white light. He fell onto the wall. He hit it, rolling, then came to a stop. He stood up, somehow remaining on the outer palace wall and not falling. It defied reason. He turned, then stalked toward her father. Jasnah watched, growing cold, helpless as the assassin stepped down to her father and knelt over him. Tears fell from her chin, and the wind caught them. What was he doing down there? She couldn’t make it out. When the assassin walked away, he left behind her father’s corpse. Impaled on a length of wood. He was dead—indeed, his Shardblade had appeared beside him, as they all did when their Bearers died.

 

Words of Radiance page 109 (spoiled for length)

Spoiler

 

She could see Jasnah’s face, hand against her temple, staring at the pages spread before her. Jasnah’s eyes were haunted, her expression haggard. This was not the Jasnah that Shallan was accustomed to seeing. The confidence had been overwhelmed by exhaustion, the poise replaced by worry. Jasnah started to write something, but stopped after just a few words. She set down the pen, closing her eyes and massaging her temples. A few dizzy-looking spren, like jets of dust rising into the air, appeared around Jasnah’s head. Exhaustionspren. Shallan pulled back, suddenly feeling as if she’d intruded upon an intimate moment. Jasnah with her defenses down. Shallan began to creep away, but a voice from the floor suddenly said, “Truth!” Startled, Jasnah looked up, eyes finding Shallan—who, of course, blushed furiously. Jasnah turned her eyes down toward Pattern on the floor, then reset her mask, sitting up with proper posture. “Yes, child?” “I . . . I needed spheres . . .” Shallan said. “Those in my pouch went dun.” “Have you been Soulcasting?” Jasnah asked sharply. “What? No, Brightness. I promised I would not.” “Then it is the second ability,” Jasnah said. “Come in and close that door. I should speak to Captain Tozbek; it won’t latch properly.” Shallan stepped in, pushing the door closed, though the latch didn’t catch. She stepped forward, hands clasped, feeling embarrassed. “What did you do?” Jasnah asked. “It involved light, I assume?” “I seemed to make plants appear,” Shallan said. “Well, really just the color. One of the sailors saw the deck turn green, but it vanished when I stopped thinking about the plants.” “Yes . . .” Jasnah said. She flipped through one of her books, stopping at an illustration. Shallan had seen it before; it was as ancient as Vorinism. Ten spheres connected by lines forming a shape like an hourglass on its side. Two of the spheres at the center looked almost like pupils. The Double Eye of the Almighty.

“Ten Essences,” Jasnah said softly. She ran her fingers along the page. “Ten Surges. Ten orders. But what does it mean that the spren have finally decided to return the oaths to us? And how much time remains to me? Not long. Not long . . .” “Brightness?” Shallan asked. “Before your arrival, I could assume I was an anomaly,” Jasnah said. “I could hope that Surgebindings were not returning in large numbers. I no longer have that hope. The Cryptics sent you to me, of that I have no doubt, because they knew you would need training. That gives me hope that I was at least one of the first.” “I don’t understand.” Jasnah looked up toward Shallan, meeting her eyes with an intense gaze. The woman’s eyes were reddened with fatigue. How late was she working? Every night when Shallan turned in, there was still light coming from under Jasnah’s door. “To be honest,” Jasnah said, “I don’t understand either.” “Are you all right?” Shallan asked. “Before I entered, you seemed . . . distressed.” Jasnah hesitated just briefly. “I have merely been spending too long at my studies.” She turned to one of her trunks, digging out a dark cloth pouch filled with spheres. “Take these. I would suggest that you keep spheres with you at all times, so that your Surgebinding has the opportunity to manifest.” “Can you teach me?” Shallan asked, taking the pouch. “I don’t know,” Jasnah said. “I will try. On this diagram, one of the Surges is known as Illumination, the mastery of light. For now, I would prefer you expend your efforts on learning this Surge, as opposed to Soulcasting. That is a dangerous art, more so now than it once was.” Shallan nodded, rising. She hesitated before leaving, however. “Are you sure you are well?” “Of course.” She said it too quickly. The woman was poised, in control, but also obviously exhausted. The mask was cracked, and Shallan could see the truth. She’s trying to placate me, Shallan realized. Pat me on the head and send me back to bed, like a child awakened by a nightmare. “You’re worried,” Shallan said, meeting Jasnah’s eyes. The woman turned away. She pushed a book over something wiggling on her table—a small purple spren. Fearspren. Only one, true, but still. “No . . .” Shallan whispered. “You’re not worried. You’re terrified.” Stormfather! “It is all right, Shallan,” Jasnah said. “I just need some sleep. Go back to your studies.” Shallan sat down on the stool beside Jasnah’s desk. The older woman looked back at her, and Shallan could see the mask cracking further. Annoyance as Jasnah drew her lips to a line. Tension in the way she held her pen, in a fist. “You told me I could be part of this,” Shallan said. “Jasnah, if you’re worried about something . . .” “My worry is what it has always been,” Jasnah said, leaning back in her chair. “That I will be too late. That I’m incapable of doing anything meaningful to stop what is coming—that I’m trying to stop a highstorm by blowing against it really hard.”

“The Voidbringers,” Shallan said. “The parshmen.” “In the past,” Jasnah said, “the Desolation—the coming of the Voidbringers—was supposedly always marked by a return of the Heralds to prepare mankind. They would train the Knights Radiant, who would experience a rush of new members.” “But we captured the Voidbringers,” Shallan said. “And enslaved them.” That was what Jasnah postulated, and Shallan agreed, having seen the research. “So you think a kind of revolution is coming. That the parshmen will turn against us as they did in the past.” “Yes,” Jasnah said, rifling through her notes. “And soon. Your proving to be a Surgebinder does not comfort me, as it smacks too much of what happened before. But back then, new knights had teachers to train them, generations of tradition. We have nothing.” “The Voidbringers are captive,” Shallan said, glancing toward Pattern. He rested on the floor, almost invisible, saying nothing. “The parshmen can barely communicate. How could they possibly stage a revolution?” Jasnah found the sheet of paper she’d been seeking and handed it to Shallan. Written in Jasnah’s own hand, it was an account by a captain’s wife of a plateau assault on the Shattered Plains. “Parshendi,” Jasnah said, “can sing in time with one another no matter how far they are separated. They have some ability to communicate that we do not understand. I can only assume that their cousins the parshmen have the same. They may not need to hear a call to action in order to revolt.” Shallan read the report, nodding slowly. “We need to warn others, Jasnah.” “You don’t think I’ve tried?” Jasnah asked. “I’ve written to scholars and kings all around the world. Most dismiss me as paranoid. The evidence you readily accept, others call flimsy. “The ardents were my best hope, but their eyes are clouded by the interference of the Hierocracy. Besides, my personal beliefs make ardents skeptical of anything I say. My mother wants to see my research, which is something. My brother and uncle might believe, and that is why we are going to them.” She hesitated. “There is another reason we seek the Shattered Plains. A way to find evidence that might convince everyone.” “Urithiru,” Shallan said. “The city you seek?” Jasnah gave her another curt glance.

The ancient city was something Shallan had first learned about by secretly reading Jasnah’s notes. “You still blush too easily when confronted,” Jasnah noted. “I’m sorry.” “And apologize too easily as well.” “I’m . . . uh, indignant?” Jasnah smiled, picking up the representation of the Double Eye. She stared at it. “There is a secret hidden somewhere on the Shattered Plains. A secret about Urithiru.” “You told me the city wasn’t there!” “It isn’t. But the path to it may be.” Her lips tightened. “According to legend, only a Knight Radiant could open the way.” “Fortunately, we know two of those.” “Again, you are not a Radiant, and neither am I. Being able to replicate some of the things they could do may not matter. We don’t have their traditions or knowledge.” “We’re talking about the potential end of civilization itself, aren’t we?” Shallan asked softly. Jasnah hesitated. “The Desolations,” Shallan said. “I know very little, but the legends . . .” “In the aftermath of each one, mankind was broken. Great cities in ashes, industry smashed. Each time, knowledge and growth were reduced to an almost prehistoric state—it took centuries of rebuilding to restore civilization to what it had been before.” She hesitated. “I keep hoping that I’m wrong.” “Urithiru,” Shallan said. She tried to refrain from just asking questions, trying instead to reason her way to the answer. “You said the city was a kind of base or home to the Knights Radiant. I hadn’t heard of it before speaking with you, and so can guess that it’s not commonly referred to in the literature. Perhaps, then, it is one of the things that the Hierocracy suppressed knowledge of?” “Very good,” Jasnah said. “Although I think that it had begun to fade into legend even before then, the Hierocracy did not help.” “So if it existed before the Hierocracy, and if the pathway to it was locked at the fall of the Radiants . . . then it might contain records that have not been touched by modern scholars. Unaltered, unchanged lore about the Voidbringers and Surgebinding.” Shallan shivered. “That’s why we’re really going to the Shattered Plains.” Jasnah smiled through her fatigue. “Very good indeed. My time in the Palanaeum was very useful, but also in some ways disappointing. While I confirmed my suspicions about the parshmen, I also found that many of the great library’s records bore the same signs of tampering as others I’d read. This ‘cleansing’ of history, removing direct references to Urithiru or the Radiants because they were embarrassments to Vorinism—it’s infuriating. And people ask me why I am hostile to the church! I need primary sources. And then, there are stories—ones I dare to believe—claiming that Urithiru was holy and protected from the Voidbringers. Maybe that was wishful fancy, but I am not too much a scholar to hope that something like that might be true.”

“And the parshmen?” “We will try to persuade the Alethi to rid themselves of those.” “Not an easy task.” “A nearly impossible one,” Jasnah said, standing. She began to pack her books away for the night, putting them in her waterproofed trunk. “Parshmen are such perfect slaves. Docile, obedient. Our society has become far too reliant upon them. The parshmen wouldn’t need to turn violent to throw us into chaos—though I’m certain that is what’s coming—they could simply walk away. It would cause an economic crisis.” She closed the trunk after removing one volume, then turned back to Shallan. “Convincing everyone of what I say is beyond us without more evidence. Even if my brother listens, he doesn’t have the authority to force the highprinces to get rid of their parshmen. And, in all honesty, I fear my brother won’t be brave enough to risk the collapse expelling the parshmen might cause.” “But if they turn on us, the collapse will come anyway.” “Yes,” Jasnah said. “You know this, and I know it. My mother might believe it. But the risk of being wrong is so immense that . . . well, we will need evidence—overwhelming and irrefutable evidence. So we find the city. At all costs, we find that city.” Shallan nodded. “I did not want to lay all of this upon your shoulders, child,” Jasnah said, sitting back down. “However, I will admit that it is a relief to speak of these things to someone who doesn’t challenge me on every other point.” “We’ll do it, Jasnah,” Shallan said. “We’ll travel to the Shattered Plains and we’ll find Urithiru. We’ll get the evidence and convince everyone to listen.” “Ah, the optimism of youth,” Jasnah said. “That is nice to hear on occasion too.” She handed the book to Shallan. “Among the Knights Radiant, there was an order known as the Lightweavers. I know precious little about them, but of all the sources I’ve read, this one has the most information.” Shallan took the volume eagerly. Words of Radiance, the title read. “Go,” Jasnah said. “Read.” Shallan glanced at her. “I will sleep,” Jasnah promised, a smile creeping to her lips. “And stop trying to mother me. I don’t even let Navani do that.” Shallan sighed, nodding, and left Jasnah’s quarters. Pattern tagged along behind; he’d spent the entire conversation silent. As she entered her cabin, she found herself much heavier of heart than when she’d left it. She couldn’t banish the image of terror in Jasnah’s eyes. Jasnah Kholin shouldn’t fear anything, should she? Shallan crawled onto her cot with the book she’d been given and the pouch of spheres. Part of her was eager to begin, but she was exhausted, her eyelids drooping. It really had gotten late. If she started the book now . . . Perhaps better to get a good night’s sleep, then dig refreshed into a new day’s studies. She set the book on the small table beside her bed, curled up, and let the rocking of the boat coax her to sleep. She awoke to screams, shouts, and smoke.

 

 

Jasnah Deleted Scene (spoiled for length)

Spoiler

 

Jasnah Kholin opened her eyes and gasped, fingers rigid, clawing at the obsidian ground. A knife in her chest! She could feel it grinding on her bones as it slipped between two ribs, glancing off her sternum. She spasmed, rolling into a ball, quivering.

“Jasnah.”

No. She could not lay prone. She fought to her knees, but then found herself raking her fingers across the ground, trembling, heaving breaths in and out. Moving—even breathing—was perversely difficult, not because of pain or incapacity, but because of the overwhelming sense of tension. It made her shake, made her made her want to run, fight, do anything she could to not die.

She shouted, stumbling to her feet, and spun about, hand on her chest.

Wet blood. Her blood. A dress cut with a single knife hole.

“Jasnah.” A figure all in black. A landscape of obsidian ground reflecting a bizarre sky and a sun that did not change locations.

She darted her head from side to side, taking in everything but registering very little of it.

Storms. She could sense that knife again, sliding into her flesh. She felt that same helplessness, that same panic—emotions which had accompanied the knife’s fall. She remembered the darkness consuming her, her hearing fading, the end.

She closed her eyes and shivered, trying to banish the memories. Yet the effort of trying to do so only seemed to solidify them.

She knew that she would remember dying for as long as it took the darkness to claim her again.

“You did well,” Ivory said. “Well, Jasnah.”

“The knife,” she whispered, opening her eyes, angry at how her voice trembled, “the knife was unexpected.” She breathed in and out, trying to calm herself. That puffed out the last of her Stormlight, which she had drawn in at the last possible moment, then used like a lash to pull herself into this place. It had kept her alive, healed her.

Ivory said that while a person held enough Stormlight, only a crushing blow to the head itself would kill. She’d believed him, but storms that hadn’t made it any easier to lay there before the knife. Who would have expected them to stab her? Shouldn’t they have assumed that a blow to the head would be enough to—

Wait. Shallan!

“We have to go back,” Jasnah said, spinning. “Ivory, where is the junction?”

“It is not.”

She was able to locate the ship with ease. In Shadesmar, land and sea were reversed, so she stood on solid ground—but in the Physical Realm, Shallan and the sailors would still be in their ship. They manifest here as lights, similar to candle flames, and Jasnah thought of them as the representation of the person’s soul—despite Ivory telling her that was an extreme simplification.

They spotted the air around her, standing up on deck. That solitary flame would be Shallan herself. Many smaller lights darted beneath the ground—faintly visible through the obsidian. Fish and other sea life.

Nerves still taut, Jasnah searched around for the junction: a faint warping of the air that marked the place of her passage into Shadesmar. She could use it return to the ship, to…

One of the lights up above winked out.

Jasnah froze. “They’re being executed. Ivory! The junction.”

“A junction is not, Jasnah,” Ivory repeated. He stood with hands clasped behind his back, wearing a sharp—yet somehow alien—suit, all black. Here in Shadesmar, it was easier to distinguish the mother-of-pearl sheen to his skin, like the colors made by oil on water.

“Not?” Jasnah said, trying to parse his meaning. She’d missed his explanation the first time. Despite their years together, his language constructions still baffled her on occasion. “But there’s always a junction…”

“Only when a piece of you is there,” Ivory said. “Today, that is not. You are here, Jasnah. I am…sorry.”

“You brought me all the way into Shadesmar,” she asked. “Now?”

He bowed his head.

For years she’d been trying to get him to bring her into his world. Though she could peek into Shadesmar on her own—and even slip one foot in, so to speak—entering fully required Ivory’s help. How had it happened? The academic wanted to record her experiences and tease out the process, so that perhaps she could replicate it. She’d used Stormlight, hadn’t she? An outpouring of it, thrust into Shadesmar. A lash which had pulling her, like gravitation from a distant place, unseen…

Memories of what happened mixed with the terror of those last minutes. She shoved both emotions and memories aside. How could she help the people on the ship? Jasnah stepped up to the light, hovering before her, lifting a hand to cup one. Shallan, she assumed, though she could not be certain. Ivory said that there wasn’t always a direct correlation between objects their manifestation in Shadesmar.

She couldn’t touch the soul before her, not completely. Its natural power repelled her hand, as if she were trying to push two pieces of magnetized stone against one another.

A sudden screech broke Shadesmar’s silence.

Jasnah jumped, spinning. It sounded a trumping beast, only overlaid by the sounds of glass breaking. The terrible noise drove a shiver up her spine. It sounded like it had come from someplace nearby.

Ivory gasped. He leaped forward, grabbing Jasnah by the arm. “We must go.”

“What is that?” Jasnah asked.

“Grinder,” Ivory said. “You call them painspren.”

“Painspren are harmless.”

“On your side, harmless. Here, harmmore. Very harmmore. Come.” He yanked on her arm.

“Wait.”

The ship’s crew would die because of her. Storms! She had not thought that the Ghostbloods would be so bold. But what to do? She felt like a child here, newborn. Years of study had told her so little. Could she do anything to those souls above her? She couldn’t even distinguish which were the assassins and which were the crew.

The screech sounded again, coming closer. Jasnah looked up, growing tense. This place was so alien, with ridges and mountains of pure black obsidian, a landscape that was perpetually dim. Small beads of glass rolled about her feet—representations of inanimate objects in the physical realm.

Perhaps…

She fished among them, and these she could identify immediately by touch. Three plates from the galley, one bead each. A trunk holding clothing.

Several of her books.

Her hand hesitated. Oh storms, this was a disaster. Why hadn’t she prepared better? Her contingency plan in case of an assassination attempt had been to play dead, using faint amounts of stormlight from gems sewn into her hem to stay alive. But she’d foolishly expected assassins to appear in the night, strike her down, then flee. She’d not prepared for a mutiny, an assassination led by a member of the crew.

They would murder everyone on board.

“Jasnah!” Ivory said, sounding more desperate. “We must not be in this place! Emotions from the ship draw them!”

She dropped the spheres representing her books and ran her fingers through the other spheres, seeking… there. Ropes—the bonds tying the sailors as they were executed. She found a group of them and seized the spheres.

She drew in the last of her Stormlight, a few gemstones’ worth. So little.

The landscape reacted immediately. Beads on the ground nearby shivered and rolled toward her, seeking the stormlight. The calls of the painspren intensified. It was even closer now. Ivory breathed in sharply, and high above, several long ribbons of smoke descended out of the clouds and began to circle about her.

Stormlight was precious here. It was power, currency, even—perhaps—life. Without it, she’d be defenseless.

“Can I use this Light to return?” she asked him.

“Here?” He shook his head. “No. We must find a stable junction. Honor’s Perpendicularity, perhaps, though it is very distant. But Jasnah, the grinders will soon be!”

Jasnah gripped the beads in her hand.

“You,” she command, “will change.”

“I am a rope,” one of them said. “I am—”

“You will change.”

The ropes shivered, transforming—one by one—into smoke in the physical realm.

 

 

Oathbringer page 476 (spoiled for length)

Spoiler

Jasnah trembled as she read the madman’s words. She turned over the sheet, and found the next one covered in similar ideas, repeated over and over. This couldn’t be a coincidence, and the words were too specific. The abandoned Herald had come to Kholinar—and had been dismissed as a madman. She leaned back in her seat and Ivory—full-sized, like a human—stepped over to the table. Hands clasped behind his back, he wore his usual stiff formal suit. The spren’s coloring was jet black, both clothing and features, though something prismatic swirled on his skin. It was as if pure black marble had been coated in oil that glistened with hidden color. He rubbed his chin, reading the words. Jasnah had rejected the nice rooms with balconies on the rim of Urithiru; those had such an obvious entrance for assassins or spies. Her small room at the center of Dalinar’s section was far more secure. She had stuffed the ventilation openings with cloth. The airflow from the hallway outside was adequate for this room, and she wanted to make sure nobody could overhear her by listening through the shafts. In the corner of her room, three spanreeds worked tirelessly. She had rented them at great expense, until she could acquire new ones of her own. They were paired with reeds in Tashikk that had been delivered to one of the finest—and most trustworthy—information centers in the princedom. There, miles and miles away, a scribe was carefully rewriting each page of her notes, which she had originally sent to them to keep safe. “This speaker, Jasnah,” Ivory said, tapping the sheet she’d just read. Ivory had a clipped, no-nonsense voice. “This one who said these words. This person is a Herald. Our suspicions are true. The Heralds are, and the fallen one still is.” “We need to find him,” Jasnah said. “We must search Shadesmar,” Ivory said. “In this world, men can hide easily—but their souls shine out to us on the other side.” “Unless someone knows how to hide them.” Ivory looked toward the growing stack of notes in the corner; one of the pens had finished writing. Jasnah rose to change the paper; Shallan had rescued one of her trunks of notes, but two others had gone down with the sinking ship. Fortunately, Jasnah had sent off these backup copies. Or did it matter? This sheet, encrypted by her cipher, contained lines and lines of information connecting the parshmen to the Voidbringers. Once, she’d slaved over each of these passages, teasing them from history. Now their contents were common knowledge. In one moment, all of her expertise had been wiped away. “We’ve lost so much time,” she said. “Yes. We must catch what we have lost, Jasnah. We must.” “The enemy?” Jasnah asked. “He stirs. He angers.” Ivory shook his head, kneeling beside her as she changed the sheets of paper. “We are naught before him, Jasnah. He would destroy my kind and yours.” The spanreed finished, and another started writing out the first lines of her memoirs, which she’d worked on intermittently throughout her life. She’d thrown aside a dozen different attempts, and as she read this latest one, she found herself disliking it as well. “What do you think of Shallan?” she asked Ivory, shaking her head. “The person she’s become.” Ivory frowned, lips drawing tight. His sharply chiseled features, too angular to be human, were like those of a roughed-out statue the sculptor had neglected to finish. “She … is troubling,” he said. “That much hasn’t changed.” “She is not stable.” “Ivory, you think all humans are unstable.” “Not you,” he said, lifting his chin. “You are like a spren. You think by facts. You change not on simple whims. You are as you are.” She gave him a flat stare. “Mostly,” he added. “Mostly. But it is, Jasnah. Compared to other humans, you are practically a stone!” She sighed, standing up and brushing past him, returning to her writing desk. The Herald’s ravings glared at her. She settled down, feeling tired. “Jasnah?” Ivory asked. “Am I … in error?” “I am not so much a stone as you think, Ivory. Sometimes I wish I were.” “These words trouble you,” he said, stepping up to her again and resting his jet-black fingers on the paper. “Why? You have read many troubling things.” Jasnah settled back, listening to the three spanreeds scratching paper, writing out notes that—she feared—would mostly be irrelevant. Something stirred deep within her. Glimmers of memory from a dark room, screaming her voice ragged. A childhood illness nobody else seemed to remember, for all it had done to her. It had taught her that people she loved could still hurt her. “Have you ever wondered how it would feel to lose your sanity, Ivory?” Ivory nodded. “I have wondered this. How could I not? Considering what the ancient fathers are.” “You call me logical,” Jasnah whispered. “It’s untrue, as I let my passions rule me as much as many. In my times of peace, however, my mind has always been the one thing I could rely upon.” Except once. 

 

 

[Karger]

I meant in public or at least that she attempts to project it.  My point was that her confidence is an affectation she has adopted for political and personal convenience.  It does not reflect how she feels underneath.

15 minutes ago, Pathfinder said:

Words of Radiance page 17 (spoiled for length)

This one happen in a time of panic and not in public.  We clearly see her try and regain her focus in a latter scene.

16 minutes ago, Pathfinder said:

Words of Radiance page 109 (spoiled for length)

Jasnah is in private and Shallan catches her in a moment of weakness.  By the end of the scene she has pulled herself back together.

18 minutes ago, Pathfinder said:

Jasnah Deleted Scene (spoiled for length)

Jasnah is actually quite confident and collected considering her circumstances.  It is Ivory who is panicking.  Jasnah is doing her best to save lives(including her own).

19 minutes ago, Pathfinder said:

Oathbringer page 476 (spoiled for length)

Remember madness in any form is a deep seated phobia of Jasnah's.  She is also reading words promising the apocalypse.  She is still doing her best to be analytical and draw useful conclusions.  This is the soul of who Jasnah is as a person.

[Pathfinder]

Just now, Karger said:

I meant in public or at least that she attempts to project it.  My point was that her confidence is an affectation she has adopted for political and personal convenience.  It does not reflect how she feels underneath.

In that case then you have no disagreement from me. That is why I picked the scenes I did. Because her confident exterior hides a deeply nuanced individual. Personally I think she will remain in the background (like Renarin) till the back half of the Stormlight archive, when they both will come into the forefront, and we will learn more of their earlier lives that made them into the people they are "today". 

[Karger]

1 minute ago, Pathfinder said:

In that case then you have no disagreement from me. That is why I picked the scenes I did. Because her confident exterior hides a deeply nuanced individual. Personally I think she will remain in the background (like Renarin) till the back half of the Stormlight archive, when they both will come into the forefront, and we will learn more of their earlier lives that made them into the people they are "today". 

Maybe.

[What's a Seawolf?]

Although we don't know much about the Ghostbloods motivations, they strike me as rather pragmatic.

With all that's happened in the world since the assassination attempts, I can actually see Mraize (or the true leader of the Ghostbloods) going to now Queen and Radiant Jasnah and offering at least a temporary truce.  It's very possible their goals align at the moment.

[Karger]

7 hours ago, What's a Seawolf? said:

Although we don't know much about the Ghostbloods motivations, they strike me as rather pragmatic.

With all that's happened in the world since the assassination attempts, I can actually see Mraize (or the true leader of the Ghostbloods) going to now Queen and Radiant Jasnah and offering at least a temporary truce.  It's very possible their goals align at the moment.

Regicide does tend to draw attention to the regici(s).