mail-mi

I wish that were the case .

The screams of dying vanillas will help too... .

intrigue, bridges, and

Other than be sad at not being able to take his mech? Nope .

Oh good

I like what you're thinking. Put Remington and Max on the list and I think they'd be unbeatable

I know . Timeport, Nighthound, Corpsemaker, and Lightwards all need to get into an empty square room and each sit in a corner and think about their lives.

I sincerely hope that happens. My Timeport post frightened me just to write it

Timeport had the entire walk back to HQ to contemplate just what a failure he was. He'd managed to kill, what, 3 of Chimera's creatures? He'd also failed to get the Epic to join up with Corpsemaker. And that wasn't even counting the fact that he'd almost gotten instantly killed by Corpsemaker upon entrance to the armory, and the fact that he'd utterly failed at capturing the Reckoners and keeping them hostage.... Timeport's anger grew as he reached the armory. Not bothering to use the door, he teleported right into the building. It wasn't his fault that he was a failure--it was everyone else's! Everyone else who bested him, who thought they were better than him, when really Timeport was just biding his time. Soon, he'd show them. Soon, they'd all realize that Timeport was the top of the pecking order--that no one could mess with him! Why couldn't they see that now? Why did they insist on shoving him around like--like he was some old vanilla?! He was no vanilla, he was better! God had chosen him!! They had no right to push him around, kill him just to show them who they think is boss! Screaming in rage, Timeport swung his axe at one of the shipping crates he'd landed next to. The top crate flew across the room, exploding against the wall when it hit. "Good thing those were empty, huh?" a familiar voice said. Timeport turned and saw Quota walking towards him. Timeport had half a mind to swing the axe at him, thinking that he was better than Timeport with that condescending tone in his voice. "Ah, don't get mad at me," he said with a slight smile. "Corpsemaker'd kill you if you'd wrecked any weapons." I don't fear death, not anymore, he thought. Quota stepped away from his mech. It wasn't nearly as awesome as Timeport's, but it was still pretty sweet-looking. "Whattya say we go out and have some fun? No plans, no nothing. Just you, me, some weapons, and those vanillas." Pithy vanillas, Timeport thought with a scowl. They probably think they're better than me too. I'll show them. Quota shrugged and gestured to the rest of the crates that Timeport hadn't smashed. "I mean, if you don't want to, there's always those crates." Timeport glanced at the crates. They wouldn't be nearly as satisfying as crushing a vanilla. Crushing bones and crushing wood may sound and feel the same, but only one came with the satisfying screams of vanillas. And, Timeport realized, he needed to feel powerful. For too long, he'd been pushed around by those who thought they were his betters. He needed to feel in power, needed to feel like he was the one in control. Timeport blinked over to Quota, dropping back into time 5 seconds later, smiling at the slight flinch that shook Quota when he reappeared. "I'm in," he said, hefting his axe over his shoulders. "Where do we start?"

Preservation + Ruin = Harmony, maybe? (seriously, I can't believe I'm the first one to say this )

I answered in the PM

That would be very right, yes

I don't care, whatever you want.

So, Twi, when are we going to do the Quota/Timeport-terrorize-the-citizens-of-Portland posts?

It was a

creation of the

I can't decide whether I'd want Chromium, Bronze, or Electrum....

I'm...I'm not sure if I should be proud or abhorred that I now have an Epic on that list

I wish

I can't promise anything...but I sincerely hope that's what they'll do to him

Seonid messages me while we're doing this, "Mail-mi, how ready are you for Miner to cross the Moral Event Horizon?" My response: "I thought he already had bring it on."

That would be really cool, actually. Like Raoden's name was kind of a prophecy for the (since it's the Elantris forum I don't have to put things in spoilers, right?) ending with Elantris being a giant Aon Rao, Hrathen's name was kind of a prophecy for him going heathen at the end of the book.

Ironmonger is at last revealed! 2 of 3 compilation posts done!

Thanks to Seonid for all of Ironmonger's dialogue and other descriptions! Miner walked through the hallways of the City Hall--which, ironically, had more than one hallway. Though, it didn’t really have much more than hallways. It was a bit shabby, and old, run-down building, pre-Calamity by the looks of it. Miner grunted with distaste as he examined the pictures of famous vanillas in the town. He was beginning to have a hard time believing this Ironmonger was as powerful as he’d heard. Why, if he was the Epic version of Magneto, as he’d been told by a nerdy-looking passing vanilla, did he stay in this drab of a place? Miner followed the screams. It sounded like...a begging woman? Miner’s lips curved into a half-smile. At least Ironmonger seemed to know how to treat vanillas. Still.... Miner began to craft a deep tunnel under the city hall, but far enough under the surface that the building had no chance of collapsing the tunnel...unless Miner deemed otherwise. If Ironmonger didn’t turn out as the people had said, Miner would not hesitate to sink the whole building and take over Ironmonger’s budding empire. He reached the place where he assumed the screaming was coming from--the main audience room. He threw open the door, startling the pair of guards who stood sloppily to attention as he entered. One fell down in surprise. The other moved as if to challenge him, then stopped. The ring of stone around Miner’s arm was a dead giveaway that he was an Epic, and this vanilla obviously wanted nothing to do with challenging Epics. The screaming was coming from a short, rather attractive woman who appeared to be in her late twenties. She was kneeling before a tall, powerfully built man with jet-black hair and a cruel expression on her face. If this wasn’t enough to identify the ruler of the city, the hair ornaments levitating more than a foot above her head, yanking her face up at an uncomfortable angle, certainly did. Two more guards held a gagged child up against the wall. It looked to be about two years old. Ironmonger turned to look at the new disturbance, then turned his attention back to the unfortunate woman. “I have no use for a woman who betrays me. One who seeks attention from lesser men.” His voice was gravelly, rasping in a cruel cadence. “Please. My lord. It is as I said. The child is from before you came here. I haven’t seen the father in years. Please! I am faithful! Believe me!” The woman’s voice grew more and more desperate as she spoke. Ironmonger cut her off with a curt wave of his hand. “I do not wish to hear your feeble lies any longer, woman! It is time you learned the penalty for betrayal.” With another gesture, her hair ornaments flew backwards, dragging her by the hair until she hit the far wall with a crash, hanging a foot above the ground. The necklace around her neck cut into her skin, pushed by the awesome force of Ironmonger’s power. Her hands went to her neck, trying hopelessly to pull off the necklace. Her face began to turn blue, and her feet began to kick against the wall, drumming a frantic rhythm. Ironmonger watched for a long moment, then turned to face Miner as the drumming feet began to slow. “Who are you, and what are you doing in my presence?” Miner grinned, looking back at the woman stuck on the wall. He looked back at Ironmonger, then knelt on one knee and bowed his head. He held that position for a second, waiting while he refilled the hole beneath the city hall. Ironmonger was definitely just like the people had said. He looked up at the emperor. His emperor. “I come to offer my...humble services to you, great Ironmonger. I wish to join your conquest, as I have...” He lifted his stone-encased stump, rotating it and pretending to examine it. “...revenge to enact.” Ironmonger smiled a cruel smile, and motioned for the guards standing nearby to ungag the child. He immediately started whimpering. “There appears to be a child in my court who recently lost his mother. Normally I wouldn’t care, but I find the incessant noise disturbing. As a demonstration of both your powers and your loyalty, would you please excise the disturbance? And find a proper place for that piece of filth.” He motioned toward the body still hanging on the wall, pinned by her jewelry. “Why, of course I can.” Miner stood up and faced the child first. He slowly opened up a hole underneath the boy, a hole that reached as deep as he could go. The rocks beneath the room rumbled as they shifted out of the way, shaking the city hall as if there was an earthquake. The child screamed as he plummeted into the glowing red hole, and Miner sealed it up before any magma could escape to the surface. That annoying, little thing taken care of, Miner stalked over to the woman’s body. A pretty little thing, Miner was almost regretful that she’d had to be killed, but she was better dead than rebellious. He carefully crafted a coffin of stone just beneath the ground, then waited for Ironmonger to drop his hold on her. Moments later, she slumped into the small hole, and Miner buried it deep down underneath the ground He turned back to Ironmonger and smiled, going down onto one knee again. Ironmonger nodded curtly. “He’ll do,” he said to the guards, who stood down reluctantly. “Whatever your name is, Epic, I accept you as my vassal. If you will attend me in the morning, there will be a war meeting. We plan the invasion of The Dalles, as soon as our forces can be ready to strike.” “It’s Miner, my Lord,” Miner said, standing up slowly. “And I would be...glad to be your vassal.” Ironmonger smiled. “Welcome to the Iron Empire, Miner.”

And salt. Don't forget the salt