Shardcellist

Failed. Failed to die. Failed. Failed. Failed. Unable to die. Failed. Failed to die. Failed. Failed to die. Failed. Failed. Failed. Unable to die. Failed. Failed to die. Failed. Failed to die. Failed. Failed. Failed. Unable to die. Failed. Failed to die. Failed. Failed to die. Failed. Failed. Failed. Unable to die. Failed. Failed to die. Failed. Failed. Failed. Unable to die. Failed. Failed to die. Failed. Failed to die. Failed. Failed. Failed. Unable to die. Failed. Failed to die. Failed. Failed to die. Failed. Failed. Failed. Unable to die. Failed. Failed to die. Failed. Failed to die. Failed. Failed. Failed. Unable to die. Failed. Failed to die. Failed. Failed. Failed. Unable to die. Failed. Failed to die. Failed. Failed to die. Failed. Failed. Failed. Unable to die. Failed. Failed to die. Failed. Failed to die. Failed. Failed. Failed. Unable to die. Failed. Failed to die. Failed. Failed to die. Failed. Failed. Failed. Unable to die. AKA: Brandon's already done this.

It depends. Flywinged, did you notice her eye color? Then again, she could be Lightweaving.

Granted, I wish for my curse to be nullified.

Note, however, that Stormlight is not necessary for the "bond effect," only the presence/attachment of a gem. This doesn't disprove the idea, but I feel that it is a point worth noting.

The changes to which you seem to refer, Kurkistan, are those altered by Ruin. (There are two places where that section is gone over mentioning the Announcer, and only on the third time does it change to the Holy First Witness. There are, however, two times when Sazed is physically at the Conventical of Seran and part of the inscription is quoted directly from the wall as written by Kwaan; these and the epigraphs (also apparently taken directly from the Wall of Seran, for later versions are altered by Ruin to fit his schemes) are the only sections I dared use. And they are not the same. ​Once again, a bit too melodramatic, but I have to play this all the way to the end, don't I?

I write these words to my fellow Seventeenth Sharders for, unless Earth has an as-of-yet unknown Spiritual connection to Scadrial, metal will do me no good. I know of no other native equivalent that could serve the same function, and I doubt that the local computer hard drives are any safer than a Feruchemist’s metalmind. My only hope therefore – indeed, our only hope – is to spread the word quickly before my message is transformed. Beware if this post has been edited, for my account – and even those of our trusted administrators – will not be secure before this creature. And yet, the only safe way is to memorize this immediately regardless, for I know not if this entity is bound by any such mortal restraints. I have begun to wonder if I am the only sane man remaining. Can the others not see? If Terris texts preserved and revered for centuries could be altered with a Ruinous whim, of course our precious texts and databases were insecure. My brethren ignore the facts. They trust in the accuracy of the novels and the Words of Brandon. They are deaf to my objections and blind to my discoveries. Perhaps they are right. Perhaps I am mad, daft, or simply overcomplicating things. My name is Brian. Musician, scholar, traitor. I was not one of the ones to originally discover the existence of the Cosmere, but I am, unfortunately, the one who now must – despite my personal yearnings – put a stop to it, for now I know that Brandon Sanderson must never be allowed to complete his work. I write this message now, pounding it into my keyboard, because I am afraid. Afraid for myself, yes – I admit to being human. I know this message may not be well received, and the Seventeenth Shard may now bend their wills and their efforts to my extermination, for I am challenging all they once though they knew. I am also afraid, however, that all I have discovered – that my story – will be forgotten. Afraid that my plans will fail. Afraid of a doom worse, even, than losing the Cosmere. It all comes back to Brandon Sanderson. I feel bad for him, for all the things he has done for us – and that we now must convince him to stop. But, let me begin at the beginning, for I get ahead of myself. It all began as I started to transcribe the epigraphs – Kwaan’s inscription from the Conventical of Seran – from The Well of Ascension, when I happened to check it against the writing read by Sazed on pages 132 and 759-762 of the TOR hardback copy. Both were, supposedly, the same text as it was written in steel, but they did not quite match. Shocked and intrigued, I finished my copy during the next weeks and compared it with the rest in its entirety: (The sections in italics are those that had only the epigraph copy and could not be checked with anything uncorrupted by Ruin. The words in bold are those in the text that differ from the preceding word in the epigraphs.) “I write these words in steel, for anything not set in metal cannot be trusted. I have begun to wonder if I am the only sane man left (remaining). Can the others not see? They have been waiting so long for their hero to come— the one spoken of in Terris prophecies— that they quickly jump between conclusions, presuming that each story and legend applies to this one man. My brethren ignore the other facts. They cannot connect the other strange things that are happening. They are deaf to my objections and blind to my discoveries. Perhaps they are right. Perhaps I am mad, or jealous, or simply daft. My name is Kwaan. Philosopher, scholar, traitor. I am the one who discovered Alendi, and I am the one who first proclaimed him to be the Hero of Ages. I am the one who started this all. And I am the one who betrayed Alendi (him), for I now know that he must never be allowed to complete his quest. I write this record now, pounding it into a metal slab, because I am afraid. Afraid for myself, yes—I admit to being human. If Alendi does return from the Well of Ascension, I am certain that my death will be one of his first objectives. He is not an evil man, but he is a ruthless one. That is, I think, a product of what he has been through. I am also afraid, however, that all I have known—that my story—will be forgotten. I am afraid for the world that is to come. Afraid that my plans will fail. Afraid of a doom worse, even, than the Deepness. It all comes back to poor Alendi. I feel bad for him, and for all the things he has been forced to endure. For what he has been forced to become. But, let me begin at the beginning. I met Alendi first in Khlennium; he was a young lad then, and had not yet been warped by a decade spent leading armies. Alendi's height struck me the first time I saw him. Here was a man who towered over others, a man who—despite his youth and his humble clothing—demanded respect. Oddly, it was Alendi's simple ingenuousness that first led me to befriend him. I employed him as an assistant during his first months in the grand city. It wasn't until years later that I became convinced that Alendi was the Hero of Ages. Hero of Ages: the one called Rabzeen in Khlennium, the Anamnesor. Savior. When I finally had the realization—finally connected all of the signs of the Anticipation to Alendi—I was so excited. Yet, when I announced my discovery to the other Worldbringers, I was met with scorn. Oh, how I wish that I had listened to them. And yet, any who know me will realize that there was no chance I would give up so easily. Once I find something to investigate, I become dogged in my pursuit. I had determined that Alendi was the Hero of Ages, and I intended to prove it. I should have bowed before the will of the others; I shouldn't have insisted on traveling with Alendi to witness his journeys. It was inevitable that Alendi himself would find out what I believed him to be. Yes, he was the one who fueled the rumors after that. I could never have done what he himself did, convincing and persuading the world that he was indeed the Hero. I don't know if he himself believed it, but he made others think that he must be the one. If only the Terris religion, and belief in the Anticipation, hadn't spread beyond our people. If only the Deepness hadn't come when it did, providing a threat that drove men to desperation both in action and belief. If only I had passed over Alendi when looking for an assistant, all those years ago. It wasn't until a few years later that I began to notice the signs. I knew the prophecies—I am a Terris Worldbringer, after all. And yet, not all of us are religious men; some, such as myself, are more interested in other topics. However, during my time with Alendi, I could not help but become more interested in the Anticipation. He seemed to fit the signs so well. He was born of a humble family, yet married the daughter of a king. He could trade words with the finest of philosophers, and had an impressive memory. Nearly as good, even, as my own. Yet, he was not argumentative. The Terris rejected him, but he came to lead them. He commanded kings, and though he sought no empire, he became greater than all who had come before. He fathered no children, yet all of the land became his progeny. He was forced into war by a misunderstanding—and always claimed he was no warrior—yet he came to fight as well as any man. He was no simple soldier. He was a force of leadership—a man that fate itself seemed to support. He left ruin in his wake, but it was forgotten. He created kingdoms, and then destroyed them as he made the world anew. There were other proofs to connect Alendi to the Hero of Ages. Smaller things, things that only one trained in the lore of the Anticipation would have noticed. The birthmark on his arm. The way his hair turned gray when he was barely twenty and five years of age. The way he spoke, the way he treated people, the way he ruled. He simply seemed to fit. But, I must continue with the sparsest of detail. Space is limited. The other Worldbringers must have thought themselves humble when they came to me, admitting that they had been wrong. Even then, I was beginning to doubt my original declaration. But, I was prideful. In the end, my pride may have doomed us all. I had never received much attention from my brethren; they thought that my work and my interests were unsuitable to a Worldbringer. They couldn't see how my work, studying nature instead of religion, benefited the people of the fourteen lands. As the one who found Alendi, however, I became someone important. Foremost among the Worldbringers. There was a place for me, in the lore of the Anticipation—I thought myself the Announcer, the prophet foretold to discover the Hero of Ages. Renouncing Alendi then would have been to renounce my new position, my acceptance, by the others. And so I did not. But I do so now. Let it be known that I, Kwaan, Worldbringer of Terris, am a fraud. Alendi was never the Hero of Ages. At best, I have amplified his virtues, creating a Hero where there was none. At worst, I fear that all we believe may have been corrupted. And so I come to the focus of my argument. I apologize. Even forcing my words into steel, sitting and scratching in this frozen cave, I am prone to ramble. This is the problem. Though I believed in Alendi at first, I later became suspicious. It seemed that he fit the signs, true. But, well, how can I explain this? Could it be that he fit them too well? I know your argument. We speak of the Anticipation, of things foretold, of promises made by our greatest prophets of old. Of course the Hero of Ages will fit the prophecies. He will fit them perfectly. That's the idea. And yet…something about all this seemed (seems) so convenient. It felt (feels) almost as if we constructed a hero to fit our prophecies, rather than allowing one to arise naturally. This was the worry I had, the thing that should have given me pause when my brethren came to me, finally willing to believe. After that, I began to see other problems. Some of you may know of my fabled memory. It is true; I need not a Feruchemist's metalmind to memorize a sheet of words in an instant. (And I tell you, call me daft, but the words of the prophecies are changing. The alterations are slight. Clever, even. A word here, a slight twist there. But the words on the pages are different from the ones in my memory. The other Worldbringers scoff at me, for they have their metalminds to prove to them that the books and prophecies have not changed. And so, this is the great declaration I must make. There is something—some force—that wants us to believe that the Hero of Ages has come, and that he must travel to the Well of Ascension. Something is making the prophecies change so that they refer to Alendi more perfectly. And whatever this power is, it can change words within a Feruchemist's metalmind.) The others call me mad. As I have said, that may be true. But must not even a madman rely on his own mind, his own experience, rather than that of others? I know what I have memorized. I know what is now repeated by the other Worldbringers. The two are not the same. (I sense a craftiness behind these changes, a manipulation subtle and brilliant. I have spent the last two years in exile, trying to decipher what the alterations could mean. I have come to only one conclusion. Something has taken control of our religion, something nefarious, something that cannot be trusted. It misleads, and it shadows. It uses Alendi to destroy, leading him along a path of death and sorrow. It is pulling him toward the Well of Ascension, where the millennial power has gathered. I can only guess that it sent the Deepness as a method of making mankind more desperate, of pushing us to do as it wills. The prophecies have changed. They now tell Alendi that he must give up the power once he takes it. This is not what was once implied by the texts—they were more vague. And yet, the new version seems to make it a moral imperative. The texts now outline a terrible consequence if the Hero of Ages takes the power for himself.) Alendi believes as they do. He is a good man—despite it all, he is a good man. A sacrificing man. In truth, all of his actions—all of the deaths, destructions, and pains that he has caused—have hurt him deeply. All of these things were, in truth, a kind of sacrifice for him. He is accustomed to giving up his own will for the common good, as he sees it. I have no doubt that if Alendi reaches the Well of Ascension, he will take the power and then—in the name of the presumed greater good—(will) give it up. (Give it away to this same force that has changed the texts. Give it up to this force of destruction that has brought him to war, that has tempted him to kill, that has craftily led him to the north. This thing wants the power held in the Well, and it has raped our religion's holiest tenets in order to get it.) And so, I have made one final gamble. My pleas, my teachings, my objections, and even my treasons were all ineffectual. Alendi has other counselors now, ones who tell him what he wants to hear. I have a young nephew, one Rashek. He hates all of Khlennium with the passion of envious youth. He hates Alendi even more acutely—though the two have never met—for Rashek feels betrayed that one of our oppressors should have been chosen as the Hero of Ages. Alendi will need guides through the Terris Mountains. I have charged Rashek with making certain that he and his trusted friends are chosen as those guides. Rashek is to try and lead Alendi in the wrong direction, (to dissuade him,) discourage him, or otherwise foil his quest. Alendi doesn't know that he has been deceived, that we've all been deceived, and he will not listen to me now. If Rashek fails to lead Alendi (the trek) astray, then I have instructed the lad to kill Alendi. It is a distant hope. Alendi has survived assassins, wars, and catastrophes. And yet, I hope that in the frozen mountains of Terris, he may finally be exposed. I hope for a miracle. Alendi must not reach the Well of Ascension, for he must not be allowed to release the thing that is imprisoned there.” And so, I come to the focus of my argument. I apologize. Even typing in this haste, hoping to share the message before I am found out, I am prone to ramble. This is the problem. For just as writing on Scadrial was altered to fit the schemes of Ati, we never considered that the same could happen here, to us. This was the worry I had, the thing that should have given me pause. After that, I began to notice the other problem as described above. The alterations are slight. Clever, even. A word here, a slight twist there. But the words in the story are different from those in the epigraphs. This seems a small thing, but who knows what else has been altered - things only copied once, things we have no way of verifying? And so, this is the great declaration I must make. There is something – some force – that is altering our information about the Cosmere, something that wants us to believe… what? We don’t know what all has been changed. And whatever this power is, it can change words in a novel previously thought canon. I lack the years in solitude or the incredible memory for comparisons to solve this problem alone. And so, I share this with you now in desperation. While I know not the exact goal, something nefarious and powerful has taken control of the Cosmere for its own purposes – something we must somehow stop. And so, I have made one final gamble. I lack the location, position, and connection to effectively present my case to Brandon Sanderson. Therefore, I call for your aid. We must bring this to his attention, or that of his assistants, as quickly as possible. Do not entrust this to the written word; indeed, if this message seems inconsistent or incoherent, know that we are already too late, and its eyes are already upon us. Understand that I take no joy in being the bearer of this news; I love these novels, and the entire Realmatic creation that envelops them, as much as the next individual. But we must act now. Time runs short, and nothing may be safe. Those of you who interact with Mr. Sanderson, I beg of you to bring this to his attention before it is too late. Brandon Sanderson must not finish his Cosmere, for something is somehow imprisoned or inhibited thereby, and he must not be allowed to release it. [All right, all right, but the irony of the typos (unless the discrepancies were intentional] was just too great to pass up. Part of me does indeed wonder what Mr. Sanderson would say if presented with this. I hope you laughed – or at least chuckled.]

Repeating my earlier bar joke: A Koloss walked into a bar. The bar said, "Ouch." (It had been Awakened with the Command, "Feel Pain.")

Hello. Would you like to buy a t-shirt today?

Fabrial grandbows, as seen in TWOK.

I guess I wasn't entirely clear: two spikes granting iron Allomancy. I didn't mean to imply that Inquisitors received Kandra blessings.

When you are taking a Financial Literacy quiz and see the following question: Which of the following does NOT affect your insurance rates: A. Your eye color B. Your driving record C. Your age D. The car you drive and you immediately think, "Not on Roshar..."

On the other hand, The Well of Ascension specifically mentions that your duralumin reserve does not burn away when you use it.

When you dress up as Elend Venture for Halloween just to take books on political theory trick-or-treating. Along with Cosmere books disguised as obsolete books on political theory, just in case the obligators are watching.

To my understanding, there are three ways one becomes Allomantically powerful. One receives "extra strong" Allomantic powers. This can happen from ingesting Lerasium (or an alloy), like Elend, or from being born stronger than normal, like Vin. You could argue that this doesn't really count, but instead establishes a base point of power. Savanthood. Using the powers excessively increases your level of ability with them, as we saw with Spook. One can increase one's power without fully becoming a savant; regardless, the more one uses Allomancy, the stronger one becomes. Hemalurgy: We have a WOB that receiving a Hemalurgic spike for a power one already has "doubles" one's power. I would assume that this is based, to an extent, on the power of the Allomancer spiked, more an "addition" than a "multiplied by two". Another WOB said that Kelsier and Zane represented the higher end of what was possible with Allomantic steel. This makes sense; Kelsier's specialties were steel and iron, and he had a highly developed level of skill. In addition, he used them a lot and may have, if not become a savant, started along the path (at least, this is the impression I received). Zane, on the other hand, had that Hemalurgic spike in his back doubling his power. Now to Inquisitors. I don't have my copy of The Hero of Ages with me, so feel free to correct this, but as I recall, most Inquisitors had nine spikes, most of which were steel. I got the impression that they had two spikes for steel, and possibly two for iron. (I could be wrong on this.) This would give them the doubled power and control that we saw in Zane. However, their near-constant use would grant savanthood, which would add even more power. Between the two, they would be stronger in these than anyone but the Lord Ruler himself. To connect to the overall point, I think that the level accessible through Allomancy depends on the level of power gained. Inquisitors, as I recall, could only see trace metals in the bloodstream. However, if one had enough skill and power, they could probably (theoretically) reach a point when they could affect smaller and smaller bits of metal, down to the atomic level.

Just jumping in with a little point, not to say either way: This is how the Stormfather put it - old of design. And, the Everstorm seems specifically targeted at Shinovar.

When your local librarian has sit-down conversations with you about branching out beyond Sanderson books. I mean, honestly, I do read other books - occasionally. Then you realize your local library is conspicuously missing the Alcatraz books, and it all makes sudden, terrible sense.

While Syl was in her childlike state and may have just been saying things, part of me wonders if this is a clue. The larger animals with exoskeletons have gemhearts, why not the small ones? It would make sense if insects had gemhearts - they would just be too small to be worth harvesting. Indeed, Jasnah seems to indicate in chapter 36 of The Way of Kings that there are other animals with gemhearts of less impressive size. The "yet powerful" part is rather curious. An insect-sized gemheart would hold practically no Stormlight at all. We already know that cutting can increase the Stormlight capacity of a gemstone: what if (and this is quite a stretch), somehow, beetle gemhearts are naturally cut? Though this is doubtful, it would be quite peculiar. And now we know how Rosharan fireflies work: they just have transparent bodies!

When you consider your 2016 graduation date to be a sign from Preservation.

He was organizing a procession of a hundred chasmfiends to march in unison and sing an ode to his magnificence. Unfortunately, the storming things have real trouble tuning their tonic chords and maintaining just intonation.

I want to say Slider, because I could definitely use more time, but given bendalloy prices and burn rates, that would be impractical for what I have in mind. Storm it, I need a Soulcaster, too! After that, it's Coinshot or Thug. Strength and less sleep would be incredibly useful. I would love to be able to fly - and all you Lurchers out there, no offense intended, a Coinshot can do just about everything if he stands in front of the metal pole (or other anchor) instead of facing it. I'd be terrible with emotional allomancy, Earth is a bit short of atium, and just about everything else is useless without other Allomancers to mess with. So, probably Coinshot, but it's close. Of course, I'd rather be a Feruchemist... P.S. Why no Lerasium mistings?

Which airport did you take? 'cause I'm totally going... As for me, I'm from the United Isles, specifically Bonneville (Utah, for those that didn't catch the reference).

Just a question, for clarification: Why pay the massive costs for atium from the Lord Ruler in the first place if you're just going to sell it back to the Steel Ministry? I doubt they would pay more to buy back atium that they just sold you then they received in the first place, so you might as well just keep the boxings. As for atium in these economic circumstances, I think the only value to holding onto it (other than Mistborn fighting) is a type of speculation. What will it be worth in the future? It does seem like it might be a more stable form of currency, with the Lord Ruler limiting the supply. As for theft, remember that Kelsier was just barely able to rob House Venture; most lesser Mistborn would be unable to do so; he was only able to find it in the first place because he knew what he was looking for, then he had two tough fights: one with hazekillers and one with the house Allomancers. Still, proper economic investment seems the way to go. As for Mistborn fighting, I doubt most houses send their entire supply with one Allomancer; it is really a question of who bothered to take more from the house safe before leaving on the nighttime errands. Therefore, the only time a massive stockpile would ever be of use is in a full-fledged house war; which, as mentioned, is a rare occurrence. Thus, the question is this: How much better is atium than gold as regular currency? How much does its limited supply and Allomantic potential (along with kandra opportunity, as mentioned above) improve its worth above its strict monetary value?

I believe the term used was "Executive RAFO." As to the main point, I feel it raises a question. Does the stored attribute "stay in" the spike, where the user can "tap into" the power, or does it flow into the user when attached in such a way that the human could be used as a conduit for the second spike?

Actually, I think that first comment is on the right track. See, Szeth mentions that Voidbringers could hold Stormlight in indefinitely. Therefore, with the Everstorm preventing large-scale agriculture, captured Voidbringers and volunteer Listeners will act as longer-term gemhearts to allow Soulcasting for food during the Weepings. (Sorry; I immediately thought of this randomly when I read your post. If you couldn't tell by the mock serious look on my face, there is absolutely no need to take the previous comment with anything but a pinch of copper and a large dose of skepticism.) On a more serious note, I think this is a brilliant theory. Congratulations and welcome!

First off, as King of Nowhere so accurately described, I am not a supporter of Amaram; consider this the Assuredness Movement of Amaram's character. I do, however, see him as less evil than we are prone to depict him (not surprisingly, as the way the Stormlight Archive has been written is designed to make us see him as a terrible person). That being said, I will now take the position of the Devil's Advocate. I don't think Amaram is any worse than Taravangian or any of the other secret societies that seem to proliferate across Roshar. He is only more misguided. All of these, I believe, are intended to portray a Destination before Journey mindset to contrast with our protagonists. One of my biggest peeves with how these characters are considered is that most don't consider Taravangian to be an inherently bad man, just one doing whatever is necessary to save the world. Taravangian must also be misguided also, otherwise Hoid would be helping him, not influencing the setup of a rival group of Radiants to divide Roshar before the Desolation even arrives. Amaram is misguided even more, but he acts in accordance with the truth from his perspective to do what is best for the world. The Sons of Honor, while being Vorin extremists trying to return the Hierarchical levels of Vorin dominance to eastern Roshar, are also acting according to Gavilar's visions. They know that the Everstorm is coming; there is nothing they can do to stop it. They have just swapped the cause and effect and are trying to bring the Desolation in order to return the Heralds, whom they likely view as being able to save the world from both the Desolation and its current problems and "heresies." (They view the Almighty as being dead only in the hearts of men.) While we know that Honor is Splintered and Vorinism is a sham, while Odium is the real threat, they see only the Voidbringers, whom the Heralds will destroy. Amaram acts reprehensibly at times, but as a destination-before-journey character, he is concerned primarily for the end goal. In Kaladin's case, it was a choice between giving a young, untrained spearman a set of Shards versus giving them to a trained lighteyed general that was informed that the Desolation was coming. While it was a terrible deed, it is understandable (to an extent) under this light. Summary: Amaram's biggest issues are his Destination-before-Journey mindset and his misguided information. While he is a reprehensible character, he seems to honestly do what he feels is best for Roshar; our problem is that we need to understand the information that he has been given before we judge his actions. (I'd put more, but I have homework to do. Now, if only my vocabulary was based off of the Sunmaker's campaign or the Silver Kingdoms instead of eighteenth century imperialism...)