Amanuensis

Yes, the write up reveals the type of kill. Before I answer that question, let me say this first. I have no solid end-all be-all plan for these events. Most of the write ups so far have mostly been me winging it, based on what the players do and the whim I have at the time. So when it comes to the Chapters, what happens should depend on what you all want out of the game. So for example, this Chapter is great for character development and teambuilding. There's also plenty of opportunities it presents, such as: being ambushed by Voidbringer scouts, discovering a refugee camp (dead or alive), finding an ancient building (ruined or pristine) and rummaging through it for artifacts, or even stumbling upon the Listener's secret tunnels (which would be mostly empty, save for the few guards watching over it). Regarding Kaladin, I'll say this much. The man is out of Stormlight and on the run, as Eshonai and her Last Legion are searching high and low for him, so when the Alethi do finally catch up to him, you can expect a big confrontation. And Kaladin may or may not swear the next Ideal. Hope that's helpful. GM PMs coming soon.

When a Radiant dies like Rae did, just assume that Bond was broken, even if I don't put up a message for it like I did for the Bond that broke last Chapter. Like any time a Bond breaks, someone cannot Bond the spren of a Radiant the same turn they die; there will always be a one turn delay, at the very least.

CHAPTER SIX Uther has been arrested! He was Guilty of Murder, Murder, and More Murder! Ralaanar has been murdered! He was an Honorable Lightweaver! One Bond has been formed! Like I said, this write up was on the lighter side. Unlike the previous ones, I wanted this one to be more Initiate focused. If you haven't noticed, I've set a pattern, so you should be able to guess which Stormlight character the next write up will be centered on... Anyway, looks like the Initiates are heading back to the Shattered Plains! This time on a rescue mission to find Kaladin Stormblessed. But where is he? And what happened to the rest of the Voidbringers? Well at least this time you've got a couple armies worth of men at your back, and your main priority is carrying a bridge, rather than fighting! Although this is Dalinar's mission, feel free to give him some suggestions on where to look. Use your brains to figure out where Kaladin might have been dragged off too. It'll be fun, I promise! I might not be able to get GM PMs out as soon as I'd like. Got some serious work stuff to take care of first, but I will try to get on them ASAP. I'll have to double check the results when I do, since only one spren should have been Bonded this Chapter. Regardless, have fun! INTERROGATION (4) Alvron: Arinian, Hemalurgic_Headshot, Drake Marshall, A Joe in a Bush, (1) Arinian: Doc12, (5) Drake Marshall: Jondesu, Arraenae, Elbereth, Alvron, TheMightyLopen, (1) Darkness Ascendant: randuir, (1) TheMightyLopen: Magestar, (1) Arraenae: Drake Marshall, EXECUTION (9/10) Quiver: Alvron, Hemalurgic_Headshot, Magestar, Assassin in Burgundy, Arraenae, Arinian, TheMightyLopen, randuir, Jondesu, INITIATES A Joe in the Bush as Jonly Assassin in Burgundy as Araon Darkblade Jondesu as Kintas randuir as Ranatar Hemalurgic_Headshot as Sareth-son-Erneth TheSilverDragon as Rea Ecthelion III as Fifth Nameless Arinian as Arionium, Guilty of Murder, Fraud, and Multiple Counts of Theft JUQ as Hess Shqueeves as Leif Doc12 as Hithon Magestar as Balthazar TheMightyLopen as Shinon The lazy anarchist as Lyna Telavalet Alvron as Naihar DroughtBringer as Petrik Darkness Ascendant as The Phantom Stranger & Hashiv Elbereth as Tintallë Iurnu PRISONERS Veriq, Guilty of Cowardice and Being an Accomplice to Murder Teresh, Guilty of Murder, Murder and More Murder! CASUALTIES Lomot the Honorable Initiate Ashetvl the Honorable Initiate Ralaanar the Honorable Lightweaver COUNTDOWN Chapter Six will end on Friday, February 24th, at 0400 EST. Chapter Seven will begin approximately 2 hours later

With a frown, Naihar downed his fourth mug of ale. As hard as he tried to ignore the rumors spinning about him, he could hear nothing but the accusations, now. At first the rumors began as a quiet rumble, easily overpowered by the minstrel, dressed all in black, who sang as he plucked away at the strings of his lyre. Something about the man seemed familiar, but each time Naihar glanced at his face, the Initiate’s vision blurred a little. He was tired, but certainly not that tired, and in his long-lived life, Naihar had drank at many establishments like this one. Unless that Herdazian barmaid was spiking his ale with something stronger, he shouldn’t even be tipsy, now… Naihar hiccuped. He could barely even hear the music now, only the voices, repeating his name. Slandering it. Had they moved closer? Or were they speaking louder, their throats lubricated with strong ale and their confidence bolstered by newfound allies? “I didn’t see Naihar either. Not since the flood hit. Not until we reached the Oathgate, and were all ready to leave.” “I was the first up the Spire, and Petrik was the last. The man was nowhere between us. Sareth! You were right there with me. Do you remember seeing Naihar when the Voidbringer’s surrounded us on the plateau?” “Truth be told…” the Shin inhaled deeply, then sighed. “No, I don’t.” So that’s why they’re suspicious. It wasn’t his fault that he got separated from the others, chased into a dead end by a pair of Voidbringers. Sure, it wasn’t easy killing them cornered, nor was it scaling the chasm walls with the vines he retrieved during his descent, but it also wasn’t anything to brag home about. Throughout his lifetime, he had accomplished plenty more amazing feats. Well, if they really had to wonder that much about it, then Naihar would leave them to it, wrapping the mystery around him like a cloak. Besides, when was the last time a shadow ever hurt anybody, anyway? Several centuries at least, he thought as he clutched the skin of the Midnight Essence closer. Behind him, the legs of a wooden chair scuffed stone. A moment later a hand touched Naihar’s shoulder. The Initiate did not bother to turn. “Finally decided you were man enough to talk about me to my face, rather than behind my back?” “Actually, I just came to share a drink, if that’s alright.” It was a different voice speaking. Perfect in pitch. Besides the minstrell, Naihar only knew one man who spoke that way. Kintas. He would have preferred Kali, but this man’s company would do. “Sure, friend. What are you having?” “I wanted to try a Horneater’s brew, but it seems they don’t serve that here, so I’ve just been sipping at this blue wine,” he said as he leveled a glass to his lips, then indeed took a sip. “I heard a rumor about the place this stuff is imported from and decided it was worth testing. And you?” “Nothing quite so fancy. I prefer to drink more of the cheap stuff. Saves money for more important matters, and gets me filled quicker. Speaking of… Barmaid! Where’s my ale?” “Coming, coming!” the woman shouted back, then yelped. Where had she disappeared to, anyway? Rubbing her rump, she walked through a swinging door just behind the counter. “Sorry about that,” she said, grabbing Naihar’s empty mug and thrusting it beneath the tap. “And the names not Barmaid. It’s Palona.” Sliding the ale down the counter at him, Palona smiled despite the acidic bite behind her words. Ah well. Naihar’s mug was full and he didn’t have to drink it alone. “Cheers,” he said, raising his mug. Kintas replied only with a grin, then tapped Naihar’s mug with the rim of his glass. Taking a large gulp of bitter malt and milky froth, Naihar, for the first time in several days, felt content. If only the moment had lasted longer than… well, only a moment. Something knocked Kintas into Naihar with enough force to throw him to the floor, the front of his uniform soaked in ale and wine. Before he knew it, Kintas was off his stool too, but instead of looking for the man who hit him, he was bent over, stretching out his hand to help Naihar up. “You alright?” he asked. “I’m fine,” Naihar scoffed, then grunted as he took Kintas’ hand and was pulled onto his feet. Without looking, he yelled: “Who was that?” Scanning the room, the closest person was Teresh. When Naihar entered the room he was having a private conversation with that blind man, Hithon, though now he was standing out of his seat and clutching his arm. Naihar’s eyes narrowed on him, not noticing the stranger with long golden-red hair rushing out of the pub. "Got a problem, Teresh?” Naihar yelled. Still grasping his own arm, the Initiate did not bother to turn. “Naihar, wait…” Kintas said, reaching for Naihar’s arm as he moved passed him, though the man twisted his arm and slipped out of his grip. “Did you hear me, Teresh?” Naihar shouted, grabbing the Initiate by his shoulder and spinning him. “I asked what your problem is!” Rather than answer with words, Teresh swiped his arms down onto Naihar’s elbows then pushed on his chest, shoving him back. “Stay out of this, Naihar. This is none of your business.” Naihar stumbled into Kintas, who leaned forward to brace the fall. Once on his feet again, Naihar stepped within Teresh’s reach. Too close to swing, but close enough to whisper in his ear. He still shouted, anyway. “You made this my business when you shouldered my friend. What did Kintas ever do to you? Or did you do it to mess with me? I know you’ve never liked me, but that’s low. Even for you.” This time when Teresh pushed Naihar away, the man was ready. Naihar turned and bladed his body, grabbing Teresh’s right wrist and pulling the man’s arm over his shoulder while he thrust out his hip and bent his knees to lower his weight. The momentum of Teresh’s push carried him forward and onto Naihar’s back, allowing him to lift the man off his feet and roll him right over his shoulder, sending him flying onto the table where Shinon and Ranatar sat. Beneath the force of his weight, glass shattered and wood crumbled, leaving Teresh in the middle of a mess of splinters and shards. Several Initiates jumped to their feet, including Hithon, who had no idea what had just happened to Teresh, other than the fact he was in pain, judging by his groaning. Uther had not seen that coming. And to think, Hithon was meant to be the blind one. Groaning, Uther rolled onto his side, his right arm reaching behind his back in a vain attempt to pull out the jagged pieces of wood and glass embedded into his back. All he managed to do was get blood on his hand. “Are you okay?" Shinon asked, bending over at Uther's side. Rather than answer with words, Uther pushed up from the pile of refuse and threw a punch straight at Naihar’s jaw, sending him flying into the bar, knocking several empty glasses onto the floor. Unlike Naihar, Uther knew better than to stop fighting once his opponent was on the floor. Growling, he jumped on top of the man, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pummeling him several times in the face. “Teresh! Stop!” Uther paid Kintas’ voice no mind. “Grab hold and bind,” shouted Kintas, and then suddenly that rope he wore as a belt was wrapped around Uther’s legs, dragging him away from Naihar and knotting itself so that he couldn’t stand back up. Couldn't stand back up, at least, without drawing his boot knife and, with one quick swipe, cutting himself free, the rope becoming inanimate the moment it was severed in two. “Gah!” A boot stomped on his knife hand, pinning it to the floor, forcing Uther to look up. Naihar. Grabbing the man’s ankle with his free hand, Uther tugged hard enough to rip him Naihar off his feet, then pounced on top of him, seeking to put him in submission. Naihar fought hard to wrestle free, but whatever his skills, he wasn’t very adept at ground fighting. Naihar crunched inward, trying to stand up despite Uther throwing all his weight onto his lap, allowing him to spin around him and get at his back. Like a pair of clamps, he squeezed his arms around Naihar’s neck, grabbing his own bicep with his right hand and the back of Naihar’s head with his left. Before Uther could push his head against Naihar’s, the man suddenly threw himself backwards, forcing the splinters of wood and shards of glass deeper into his back. The choke loosened, allowing Naihar to break free. And then Araon jumped on top of them both, and the real fight began. Ralaanar leapt out of his dreams to the sound of Uther crashing onto a table. Well, that’s not good. Testosterone and liquor never did make a good mix. “Testosterone? What’s that?” Ralaanar asked, then dropped his jaw when he saw Uther burst from the floor and punch Naihar right in his. You know. The male hormone. What do they teach you kids in school these days? “School?” Ralaanar asked, confused. Rissa sighed, then gasped as Kintas’ rope came to life to drag Uther away from Naihar’s slumped form. Oooo. I haven’t seen a ropespren before. Wonder what Order that one belongs too. Hm. Could really use some popcorn right now. “Popcorn?” Ralaanar asked, irritated. Rissa really could be cryptic when she wanted. This time she didn’t respond, however, only watched as the man wrestled on the floor, and laughed when Araon climbed onto a table and jumped onto Uther and Naihar, elbow first, as they wrestled. Balthazar, inspired by Araon’s sudden joining of the fight, walked straight up to Shinon and decked him in the face. “Men” Ralaanar sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow. When had it gotten so hot in here, anyway? Fire licked the back of his neck, and he yelped. Craning his head, he found hiscloak aflame, and began to run around in a circle, panicking. “What do I do! What do I do!” Stop drop and rollllll! Ralaanar fell to the floor and began to flail wildly. Beside him, the quiet fire he sat next to for warmth was dancing furiously, desperate to escape the hearth. Man, fire really is unpredictable in this Realm. When Ralaanar finally put the fire out, he was covered in burns and tangled in the singed remains of his cloak. That’s when the thunder rang. “Enough!” Dalinar shouted as he leapt up onto the bar of Pub Seb, the door leading to Sebarial’s private quarters swaying behind him. When the ruckus first began, the fat Highprince was content to let it resolve itself, but once his mistress, Palona, came running into warn him that the Initiates were getting violent, Dalinar had no other choice but intervene. “What is the meaning of this?” he yelled, jumping into the middle of the brawl, the Initiates scattering away like cremlings, feigning sobriety and trying to hide their bloody knuckles. No one looked like they wanted to answer. “Initiate Sareth! Come here. You always speak the truth. How did this nonsense begin?” Weaving through the bodies of the combatants, the Shin man stepped up to and knelt before Dalinar. “It was Naihar, Highprince. He provoked Teresh, then threw him into a table when he pushed him away.” “That’s a load of crem!” Naihar retorted, running up to Sareth’s side and kneeling beside him. “It was Teresh, sir. He bumped Kintas into me, then refused to admit it.” Pondering, Dalinar searched the faces in the crowd. “Initiate Kintas, is that so?” Kintas rushed to Naihar’s side and fell on one knee. “I don’t know, sir. I did not see what happened. Only felt someone hit me, and when I turned there was no one but Teresh standing close enough by.” Sighing, Dalinar prepared to yell Teresh’s name, but before he could, the man was already kneeling beside Sareth. “It wasn’t me! I swear it. I was speaking with Hithon, and-” before he could finish, Teresh suddenly grasped his wrist. “What’s wrong, Initiate Teresh?” “I… uh…” The stale air became tense. “Show me your wrist, Initiate Teresh.” Teresh showed it to him, eyes shining with fear. “What is this symbol? I don’t remember seeing it on you before?” “I… uh…” Why was the man hesitating? Dalinar inhaled Stormlight and the men kneeling before him slumped a little further. “It’s the symbol of the Ghostbloods, sir.” Dalinar had never heard the name before. “I… uh…” Dalinar breathed deeper, and the words poured out. “Before I swore the First Ideal, I worked for a secret organization called the Ghostbloods. I don’t know everything about them, but they paid me well and taught me everything I know. Not long ago, they were fighting a shadow war with the Sons of Honor and the Diagrammists, another pair of secret organizations, of which I was right in the middle, here in Urithiru…” Sons of Honor… hadn’t Gavilar mentioned those, once? “What did you do for the Ghostbloods, Initiate Teresh?” “I… uh…” This time Dalinar would not rely on Stormlight to force the words out of him. “Answer me, Initiate Teresh! Before I lose my patience!” Teresh leaped, and admitted it all. “I killed for them, sir! A guard outside City Lord Notin’s manor, then the Brightlord himself! A young boy who was hired by the Ghostblood’s to pass messages between their members, who realized he could earn more spheres selling the information to their enemies! A Captain of your very army, so quick that he couldn’t even yield if he wanted! A bright scholar who was never guilty of anything except taking too much interest in a book about the Voidbringers! I remember their faces, and so many more… so many…” The Initiate was sobbing. Satisfied, Dalinar exhaled, letting the last of his Stormlight drain out of his lips, the air slackening as it dissipated. “I left them, sir. Left them for this. For you.” “Then why do you still wear their mark?” Dalinar asked. “If you truly believed yourself separated from them, the Stormlight would take it away.” “I… uh…” Dalinar sighed. “Go, Initiate Teresh. Pack your things. You’re moving to the cells until I have more time to ask you about these… Ghostbloods. “As for the rest of you! I thought you adults, but clearly I was wrong. You have all shown me that you’re little more than children, and as such I must treat you accordingly. To your rooms! Now! All of you! Consider your day off canceled! I better see everyone of you, in formation, at the ground floor’s garden, no later than dawn! Understand?” “Yes sir!” several of the Initiates yelled, some in unison, others meekly after the others. Regardless, not a single one remained in the room for long. Ralaanar dreamed. He was six again, back in Kelathar. He clumsily swung a wooden sword at a man, who parried it easily. Father. Ralaanar swung the sword again and giggled. Father said something approxing and Ralaanar giggled again. Tears streamed down Ralaanar’s cheeks as he faced his pet axehound, Addy. “I can’t,” he said. “You must,” father said. “I can’t,” Ralaanar repeated. “He’s my friend.” “Do it,” Father said. His voice was harder this time. Ralaanar shut his eyes and raised the knife. Maybe it would be easier if he couldn’t see Addy - if he couldn’t see his pet axehound that he’d had for… how long had he had him for, anyway? The darkness writhed around Ralaanar and he knew instantly that something was wrong. Someone backhanded Ralaanar, who flew backwards, onto the grass. For some reason, the grass didn’t retreat. Instead, it decayed around Ralaanar and formed a pile of ash. Somehow, though, the ash felt cold. Almost a bit icy, like there was a frigid breeze blowing through it. Ralaanar shifted as Addy licked his reddened cheek. He cried, then tried to go back to sleep. “Good morning, Ralaanar,” said a voice from the shadows. “I thought her name was Ralaani?” chimed another. “No, no. That’s the lie he’s been telling everyone, remember?” “He? Wait, now I’m confused.” “Shut up. It’s my turn to recite the criminal’s record.” The first voice cleared their throat. “Ralaanar Naven. The Court of Kelathar County finds you guilty of both Trespassing and Vandalizing your neighbor's yard, as well as Stealing their prize axehound, Slippers. Additionally, since Fleeing from your crimes, you have been seen breaking into several homes and shops in search of food and medical supplies, as well as dresses, hairbrushes, makeup, papers, paints, and countless other feminine products and art paraphernalia, not to mention you using many of these stolen goods to conceal your true identity, and lying to multiple officers of the law. What say you to these crimes?” Ralaanar rubbed the crusts from his eyes, still half-asleep and unsure if this were reality, or an extension of his nightmare. Leave him alone! Bark! “I was talking to Ralaanar. Not the two of you. Ralaanar?” “Who are you?” The voices laughed. “Lantern. Take care of the dog. Without any spheres, I should be able to handle the boy on my own.” “Whatever you say, Amazon. Come here, Slippers! Have I got just the treat for you!” Growling, Addy leapt away from Ralaanar and disappeared completely in the darkness. Shing. “No!” Ralaanar shouted at the sound of metal scraping. He saved Addy from his abusive owners, and would not let the axehound die now because of him. No! Rissa shouted at the sound of metal piercing flesh. Without infused spheres she was powerless to save Ralaanar, and now there was nothing she could do but feel herself fade back into the Cognitive, hoping to see her friend on the other side. The last thing either of them heard was the voices declare, "Let Justice be done." In the darkness of his cell, Uther recalled an old story he once heard to Veriq, though the man had fallen asleep to his reciting long ago. “When he showed the Uvara the dead body, they began to wail and weep. The entire island was cast into chaos, as the Uvara began to burn homes, riot, or fall to their knees in torment. “Do you not see, traveling one? If the emperor is dead, and has been all these years, then the murders we committed are not his responsibility. They are our own.” Despite Veriq’s obnoxious snoring, Uther’s own weeping was still loud in his ears. Dalinar watched the Initiates form their ranks in the darkness, unsure of what punished awaited them. Many of them had arrived an hour before dawn, saluting the Highprince as they passed him inside the tower, just outside the bottom floor of the garden. They were forced to stand facing the sun, that way they could not see what the Squires did behind their back. Whenever one twitched, Dalinar would see it and yell, enhancing his voice with Stormlight and tensing the air so that it weighed heavier upon their shoulders. Slowly, he was learning to control this power. Before, the pressure surrounded him like a sphere with him the gemstone at its center. Now he could move the unseen force around, distort its shape, and even increase its density. It covered the Initiates now like a cloud. When the sun touched the horizon, Dalinar yelled the preparatory command “About!” and watched with amusement as the Initiates jolted stiff. Letting the anticipation get the better of them, he waited for the first one to nearly lose their balance before finishing with the execution command, “Face!” Those familiar with military training moved in unison, their right foot tracing a C behind their left, then spinning on their respective heel and toe until they did a complete 180, their feet coming at a perfect forty-five degree angle. Those not familiar with military training lost control, stumbling into one another and making a fool of themselves. One Initiate even got knocked onto his knees, then in a panic, threw themselves back into the position of attention. Between the Initiates and Dalinar, who was now standing on a mobile bridge sat down earlier by Rock, was two pairs of Squires - Teft with Skar and Leyten with Drehy, respectively - who glowed as each pair held a bridge above their heads, fully extended, with ease, before stepping to the side and letting go. The bridges, trailing Stormlight, fell to the ground as light as feathers. On the floor above Dalinar, his sons, Adolin and Renarin, along with Highprince Aladar, stepped into view, surrounded by several lighteyed officers. Out of the tower behind Dalinar, two legions of men, one wearing Kholin’s colors, the other Aladar’s, rushed into view, bearing weapons recently soulcast by Shallan. “Captain Kaladin has still not returned from Stormseat, and thus it is our duty to go find him. According to his Squires, Stormblessed is still alive, though he is weak, and growing weaker. It is critical that we find him at once. Doing so, however, will require three bridges to be carried. Given the losses from our last two battles with the Voidbringers, we are running low on capable soldiers to shoulder these bridges. That is why I volunteered you all to carry them for us.” Dalinar watched the Initiates faces, looking for anger, or defiance. He was surprised - and pleased - to find all of them stern, though a few men did wobble a little, likely hungover from last night. “Initiates! Divide yourselves evenly and grab a bridge! We leave for the Shattered Plains at once!” Among the Initiates, someone muttered under their breath "Not again..."

37 minutes later... Sorry all. Remember how I said I'm busy with work? Yeah, completely forgot to close this thread. Chapter Five is now closed. Chapter Six should begin in hopefully an hour.

If an unbonded Unjust kills a player, they will lose one Honor, so it delays their bonding in the sense that they have less honor to spend on getting it. EDIT: Also... Don't look forward to it too much. This write up will be pretty light, since this week my detachment is being visited by our Commander and Sergeant Major, which means I am very busy, and honestly might have to make this next Chaper 96 hours long too.

No. A specific spren cannot be broken and bonded by another Initiate in the same turn. Scroll a little further down and you'll see them. There's a separate list for living / free Initiates, Prisoners and Casualties. This is to make it easier to infer who is close to achieving what win condition. Also, as you can see above, there's just a little over 8 hours left to earn max honor and put in your orders for this Chapter.

The Initiate with the most honor invested would get it.

Due to work commitments, I will be extending this Chapter an extra day. The new countdown can be found below

You can. The write ups are just flavor to explain what happens. You might technically be a fugitive, but you still count as a free Initiate, as far as the game is concerned.

CHAPTER FIVE Arionium escaped from prison before he could be executed! Veriq has been arrested! He was Guilty of Cowardice and Being an Accomplice to Murder! One Bond has been formed! One Bond has been broken! I'm very sorry about this write up, guys. I had a lot of content to get through, and it ended up being ridiculously long, so it's also not very polished. I have to get to work soon, so I'll have to fix it up later so that it meets my standards. For similar reasons, the prompt for this Chapter isn't very clear. Feel free to retroactively roleplay if you want to describe what happened with your character during the Greatshell-raft ride, or during that final confrontation with the Voidbringers just before Adolin came to the rescue. Otherwise go ahead and explore the city and build some character relationships! If ya'll don't make it to Pub Seb this Chapter, then maybe for the next one I'll set the scene myself, and you guys can enjoy some good ole fashion drinking games, and maybe even get into a bar fight! Wouldn't that be fun? Anyway, GM PMs will be coming soon. I think I should be able to get everyone theirs before I have to go for the night. Have fun INTERROGATION (3) Alvron: Doc12, TheMightyLopen, A Joe in the Bush, (1) Arraenae: Drake Marshall, (1) Elbereth: Arraenae, (4) Quiver: randuir, Alvron, Hemalurgic_Headshot, Jondesu, EXECUTION (13/10) Arinian: Drake Marshall, Arraenae, TheMightyLopen, Jondesu, A Joe in the Bush, randuir, Doc12, Hemalurgic_Headshot, Alvron, Magestar, Ecthelion III, TheSilverDragon, Quiver INITIATES A Joe in the Bush as Jonly Assassin in Burgundy as Araon Darkblade Jondesu as Kintas randuir as Ranatar Hemalurgic_Headshot as Sareth-son-Erneth TheSilverDragon as Rea Ecthelion III as Fifth Nameless Arinian as Arionium, Guilty of Murder, Fraud, and Multiple Counts of Theft JUQ as Hess Shqueeves as Leif Doc12 as Hithon Magestar as Balthazar Arraenae as Ralaani TheMightyLopen as Shinon Drake Marshall as Teresh The lazy anarchist as Lyna Telavalet Alvron as Naihar DroughtBringer as Petrik Darkness Ascendant as The Phantom Stranger & Hashiv Elbereth as Tintallë Iurnu PRISONERS Veriq, Guilty of Cowardice and Being an Accomplice to Murder CASUALTIES Lomot the Honorable Initiate Ashetvl the Honorable Initiate COUNTDOWN Chapter Five will end on Monday, February 20th, at 0400 EST. Chapter Six will begin approximately 2 hours later

Alone, Dalinar sat upon the eastern ledge of Urithiru’s roof, looking out towards the Origin. Whenever he was deep in thought, he found himself staring at the horizon, as if there was something hiding just beyond it that could answer all of his questions. In the corner of Dalinar’s eye, a bright, column of light manifested, then faded, signaling the use of the Oathgate connected to Stormseat. Given the time, Dalinar was surprised. He did not expect the Initiates to return for another hour, at least. The sun had just barely reached its apex, and the Highprince knew Kaladin had planned for them to break their fast in the chasm, after finishing their battle. If they were here already, then that meant they slayed the Chasmfiend in record time. For such a small group, that should be impossible. Especially so once you considered the Initiates never fought together, before. If twenty Initiates were capable of such a feat, what could an army of Radiants accomplish? Curious, Dalinar rose from his seat and approached the edge overlooking the Oathgate, only to find the disc barren of life. If it wasn't the Initiates returning, than who else could have used it? Fortunately Dalinar didn’t have to wait long for that answer. Three men ascended from the stairwell leading into the inner chamber, one with his arms bound behind his back. It was hard to tell from this far up, but he wore an Initiate’s uniform, torn and bloody from battle. The men escorting him wore the pristine garbs of the Squires, and judging by the slight glimmer of their skin, they were using their powers to keep him compliant. Still, the two Squires had their spears leveled at the Initiate, one flat across his chest to prevent him from fleeing, the other's tip pointed at his rear to urge him forward. As they walked towards the bridge, Renarin peaked his head out of the inner chamber, likely watching for when they were off the platform so that he could return to the Shattered Plains to wait for the others. Who was the Initiate, and why was he being treated like a prisoner? The only explanation was that the man below had been found responsible for Lomot’s death. Dalinar would have to speak with him in the cells, if that were the case. Should he leave now, he'd arrive at the cells just in time to greet them. About to turn, Dalinar glanced at his son one last time. One moment Renarin was standing absolutely still, as if Soulcast into a statue, despite the Initiate and his escorts being halfway across the bridge already. The next moment he collapsed to his knees, his body trembling rapidly as he fought to get back up. Dalinar breathed, sucking in the Stormlight from the necklace of spheres he wore around his neck, and shouted with all his might. “Renarin!” Dalinar's voice resonated throughout the atmosphere, as if it were thunder. All over Urithiru, people stopped what they were doing and looked up to sky, wondering where the yell came from. Kaladin’s Squires, however, were just with Renarin and did not hesitate to turn to see what was wrong. The Initiate smiled, then breathed. In a blink of an eye, he had slipped free from his bonds and slid underneath the spear against his chest, and amazingly kept on gliding across the length of the bridge, as if it had all the resistance of ice. Momentarily stunned, the two Squires glanced back and forth between the fleeing Initiate and Renarin’s seizing form, trying to decide what to do. Without speaking, they split off, one in each direction. DALINAR KHOLIN. WE NEED TO TALK. “Not now!” Dalinar yelled at the Stormfather, sprinting from the ledge and towards the stairs leading down into the tower. In that moment he wished he was a Windrunner. That way he could fly to his son, rather than waste his time riding the lift down to the ground floor. I THINK YOU WANT TO HEAR WHAT I HAVE TO SAY. “Whatever it is, it can wait! Can’t you see something is wrong with my son?” Dalinar’s question echoed off the walls of the stairwell to the beat of his heavy footsteps. THAT’S WHAT WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT. HE’S HAVING ANOTHER VISION. “A vision?” Dalinar asked, interest peaked, though he didn’t slow his descent. “Of what?” THE ANCIENT ONES, BOUND TO THE ONE WHO HATES. THEY ARE FIGHTING YOUR INITIATES NOW, AND THAT ONE YOU CALL STORMBLESSED. That last word sounded almost like a sneer. Dalinar ignored it, focused only on what he needed to do. Eshonai sang to the Rhythm of Destruction, smiling as the rain wet her hair and dripped down the ridges of her face. Beneath her, a dozen listeners swarmed that fool Alethi, no longer afraid of his power, but inspired by them instead. If they could cut him down, they would become legends among their kin, for they would have avenged those slaughtered since the Rider’s betrayal. Eshonai battled with herself, fighting to not leave her perch. As much as she wanted the glory of vengeance for herself, she needed to play the general today, rather than the warrior. Last time, she barely survived her encounter with the Alethi, and she had only faced an ordinary Shardbearer then. “Do not let them escape!” she yelled, watching as the group of men and women fled deeper into the chasms. Though Eshonai’s voice could not pierce the storm that was raging above, those attuned to the same rhythm as her could feel the command. Breaking away from those chanting to maintain the tempest above, a squad of listeners jumped to an adjacent plateau, seeking an ideal position to drop on top of the human cowards. Gathering her strength, a bolt of red energy coursed through her, forming into a malicious sphere of crackling energy between the palms of her hands. The louder she sang, the larger it grew, the black and red colors on its surface swirling and bubbling until eventually it became too strong for her to hold onto any longer. Casting it from her hands, the violent orb shot into the open air and exploded, nine bolts of crimson lightning bursting from it, aimed for the earth. Wherever they crashed, the ground cratered and burned. Rocks scattered hundreds of meters into the air, then fell back down, sharp and furious. The power was chaos, far beyond Eshonai’s control. Still, it was chaos that she could use to fulfill her and her god’s desir- A blood-curdling scream filled Eshonai’s ears. It was so loud, it drove her to her knees. Desperate, she clasped her hands around her ears, though the effort did her no good. Her stomach twisted, the powers of stormform abandoning her and her resolve vanishing along with them. Receding into herself, she found where the sound was coming from. But how did her Rhythm suddenly change to Peace? She could sense the Rider of Storms watching her, now. Had he somehow forced the Rhythm upon her? Eshonai cycled through the Rhythms and again found Destruction. At once the screaming stopped and her strength returned. Rising back to her feet, she held her hands before her, then resumed her singing, urging the energy to form between her palms and demanding it to grow. Veriq truly was the most worthless man in Roshar. When the others talked, Veriq remained silent. When the others fought, Veriq remained idle. And now, when the others ran, Veriq remained still. Frozen in place by... something. Not quite fear or cowardice, but more like a lack of esteem, or self-loathing. At least he had succeeded in saving the babe. He did not know its gender, too embarrassed to check, but he knew the infant was safe in Urithiru. That mission was done, and for that, he was grateful. Could he die happy, knowing the baby would live on because of him? Maybe so, but when he breathed, the Stormlight flowed into him from the spheres in his belt pouch. When he breathed, he realized he wasn’t quite ready to stop breathing. And so he ran, faster than he had ever run before. Despite swearing the First Ideal, his leg was still bent awkward from his accident. Perhaps he had the injury for so long that it had become so a part of himself that not even Stormlight could heal it. Fortunately for him, the power did repress the pain enough that he could keep up with the others. Well, relatively speaking, at least, for they had already passed the Chasmfiend’s corpse, while he had just barely left their temporary camp. At least this way, no one’s life would depend on him but his own. Despite the power raging within him, all this exercise still made him perspirate. He wasn’t accustomed to running, let alone walking for any great length. At least the rain washed away the sweat from his brow. Licking his lips, he was glad not to taste salt. Woosh. What was that? Turning, Veriq saw the most insane thing in his life. A surge of water rushed from the opposite end of the chasm, so massive and strong it lifted the Chasmfiend from the floor, heading straight towards him. If that were not insane enough, there was an Initiate climbing the thing, a gemheart cradled between his arm and his torso, the same arm bearing a sword and awkwardly swiping at a pair of Voidbringers nipping at his heels. Just in time, the crazy Initiate threw himself over one of the monster’s spines, riding it like a horse. Yelling something that could not be heard over the storm, he pointed the sword forward, and with a lurch, the corpse began moving downstream. Straight towards him and the other Initiates. The flash flood hit Veriq first, throwing him backwards and off his feet. The world around him became a suffocating blur, dark and murky except for the occasional burst of red lightning in the sky. A bolt struck close to him, shocking him and rendering him unconscious. Darkness. But no deathspren? It was questionable whether or not they truly existed, but Veriq had seen them himself, once. Where were they now? Light! Veriq’s head pierced the surface of the water, and he breathed deep, the Stormlight from his spheres flowing into him. He had turned around somehow, and was now facing downstream, towards the other Initiates. They had all been swept up too, save for a handful clinging desperately to a rope that somehow was pulling itself up the chasm wall. Had one of them developed some kind of Radiant powers? Another few Initiates were riding a shield, by the looks of it, though only two adults and the child could fit on it. The rest struggled to swim with the current, or in a few cases, were unconscious and simply drifting with the flow. Dead Voidbringers bled and bobbed around them, while their living brethren stared down at the Initiates from the plateaus, casting the occasional bolt of lightning, but seldom hitting their mark. Crash. Veriq remembered the Chasmfiend the moment it hit him, and only then. Fortunate that he only hit its shell and not one of its spines, he just had to deal with the wind being knocked out of him. Conveniently, one of its claws limped beside him. Sucking in air and Light, Veriq grabbed hold, then used a surge of strength to lift himself on top, just like he saw Balthazar straddle one of the spines. His legs dragged in the water, the bum one blazing with pain, forcing him to keep breathing in his Stormlight. Instinctively he leaned one way and the claw swayed with his weight, nearly forcing him to slam into the corpse’s shell again. Resisting his urge to lean, Veriq fixed his posture and returned his gaze forward, towards the other Initiates, glad that the claw followed suit. Was it just him, or were they getting closer? Either the Chasmfiend was moving faster, which should be impossible given its weight, or they were beginning to slow down. But if so, how? The water… it was rising. The ground beneath them must have been sloping upwards, meaning that soon enough, the momentum would stop completely. Smash. Something beneath the water hit the Chasmfiend and launched it into the air at a spin. Hugging the claw tighter, Veriq closed his eyes and held on for dear life. When he opened them again he was facing a wall. The very same wall that a few Initiates had been hanging on by a rope just before. Looking left, he could see nothing but water and Voidbringers. Had the Initiates been struck by lightning, or been dragged down by the turbulent waters? Smack. What the? Dazed, Veriq swatted at whatever hit him in the face. Beneath him the claw shifted with his weight, causing him to lose his balance and fall into the water. Flailing his arms for something to grab ahold of, he felt something slither beside him. Frightened, he tried to swim away, but before he could escape the thing wrapped itself around his wrist and tugged. Veriq gasped, and water filled his lungs. This time he could sense the deathspren in the darkness. They weren’t exactly visible, and yet Veriq could somehow see their ravenous maws gaping to consume him. They were moving closer, growing larger. This would be the end for sure. Pulse. A sound like a drum beating filled the darkness. One time, then two times, then one time once more. The deathspren seemed scared by the sound, and sure enough, when the last one resounded, a warm light banished them and brought Veriq back to life. “You alright, friend?” Veriq was on top of the Chasmfiend, Kintas standing above him. Before anything else, Veriq noticed the rope curling itself around the man’s arm, as if it were alive. Veriq tried to speak, but only coughed water. Smiling, Kintas ran off towards the Chasmfiend’s head, motioning for Veriq to follow. Kaladin hadn’t felt this alive since… well, since the day he fought the Assassin in White. His heart raged inside his chest, Stormlight coursing through his veins, strengthening his muscles and hardening his skin. Kaladin spun among the Voidbringers, Sylprena dancing in his hands, sometimes in the form of a spear, other times as a shield, or a hammer. As hard as the monsters struggled against him, their strength and their speed could not match his. This… this was more than just Stormlight empowering him. It was as if the Ideals themselves were giving him strength. I will protect those who cannot protect themselves. And protect them he did. Kaladin had no time to look back. Escorting the Initiates to safety was his Squire’s responsibility, not his. He had only one job, and that was to keep the Voidbringer’s from pursuing them. Slipping under one’s arm, Syl became a sword and Kaladin spun around, the Voidbringer’s eyes boiling in his skull. Though the monster's eyes were the same color as flame, they burned all the same when sliced through with a Shardblade. Beyond the falling corpse, a warpair ran towards Kaladin at full speed, then leaped, blades sparking with electricity as they lunged them at his face. The Windrunner Lashed himself to the sky ten times in quick succession and rocketed into the air, narrowly dodging their strike. Gathering a full broam’s worth of power inside him, he Lashed himself down to the earth one hundred times more, landing on the head of one and burying him seven feet deep into the stone, a concussive wave of frost and force bursting from his body, knocking the advancing Voidbringers off their feet. Surprisingly, not a single one stirred. None except those taken by the sudden current of the flash flood heading right towards him. No wonder they stopped jumping down after him. Smiling, Kaladin took to the sky once more, this time slowly so that the Voidbringers on top of the plateaus could get a good glimpse at the man who would defeat them, once and for all. Too busy chanting that disturbing song, the Voidbringers barely seemed to notice. “Kaladin, behind you!” shouted Syl. Too late to turn, Kaladin Lashed himself sideways, but even that turned out to be too late, too. A bolt of red hot plasma shot through him like an arrow. He tried to breath, but the blast had paralyzed him completely. Eyes locked open, all he could do is watch that Voidbringer Shardbearer smile as he fell into the turbulent waters below, his body convulsing from the shock, her body collecting electricity. How? Veriq asked himself, panting with his hands on his knees, halfway up the Spire. How had they gotten here? He knew the answer, of course. He had watched Kintas fish the rest of the Initiates from the water with that living rope of his. He had watched Shinon fire arrows at the Voidbringer’s trying to jump and climb onto the Chasmfiend, and watched Uther throw daggers into the air to catch any bolts of lightning that came dangerously close. Of course, neither man's aim was perfect, and there was the occasional skirmish, but miraculously the Initiate's had all survived. Before they knew it, they had arrived at the Spire. It reminded Veriq of the Chasmfiend’s spines, a massive, black needle that from this angle, looked tall enough to pierce the heavens. As soon as they reached it, the Horneater that Kaladin called Rock dove into the water and swam into the tower through one of its open windows, a few of the Initiates following close behind. Low on Stormlight, Veriq found himself unable to move. His leg ached worse than ever before, and he was more tired than he had been in his entire life. If not for one of that bald Squire grabbing him by the shoulder and forcing him to swim, he would have drowned for sure. There were still so many steps left to climb, and the other Initiates were so far. Even the Squires had moved on ahead, although instead of using the stairs, they had ran up the walls outside, defying gravity. They needed to reach the top, they said, before the Voidbringers could get there and set an ambush. At least Veriq was not alone. Petrik was having trouble too, it seemed. For some reason his wounds weren’t healing, as if the Stormlight refused to replenish his strength. “We’ve got to,” Petrik gasped, “keep moving.” “I know,” Veriq wheezed, “but I can’t.” Looking over the edge of the stairs, he could see the water rising in the center, red lightning dancing across its surface. The Voidbringer’s must have been channeling the electricity directly into the rising flood. If it were to touch him, Veriq would surely die. It rose so quickly, he concluded that this was the end for sure. “Here,” Petrik held one of his infused spheres out. Veriq breathed and the Stormlight urged him to survive. “Let’s go.” Adolin felt the rain before he saw the storm. When the curtain of light fell to reveal the Shattered Plains, he found it very different than he last remembered. It was still daylight, apart from the plateaus obscured by the shadow of the unnatural storm above. Some of the plateaus seemed to have shifted places, while a few others had been splintered and weathered. Voidbringers, at least a hundred of them, lined the edges of the plateaus, chanting that horrific song of theirs. It was faint from afar and with the thunder roaring above, but Adolin could hear it. The rhythm summoned memories of that day when he fought Eshonai and nearly died. If he let them keep singing, the storm would only get worse, and so he ordered the Bridge Crews to get to work. “17! Get Aladar’s men on the southern plateau! 18, prepare for mine to cross to the western!” Heaving the bridges onto their shoulders, the bridgemen complied. “Son, can you see them?” Dalinar asked, shielding his eyes from the downpour with his hand. “No father," Adolin replied, glancing at his dad. "But I'm sure they're okay. Kaladin is with them, after all." Dalinar didn't look very convinced. "Please, return inside. It’s too dangerous for you to be out here without Plate or Blade. I’ll take care of it from here.” Shifting his gaze to his son, Dalinar nodded. “Yes, you’re right. Good luck.” Thanks, Adolin thought as he watched his father descend back into the Oathgate’s inner chamber, then looked back at the chaos unfurling before him. It looks like I’m going to need it. So close, now. They were so very close. Already the rest of the Initiates had reached the top of the Spire and stepped onto the plateau. Most of them were outside with the Squires, fighting off Voidbringers by the sound of it, although a few of them remained at the exit, shouting for Veriq and Petrik to hurry. Smack. The Spire quivered and Veriq stumbled to the side. Rather than lose his balance and topple, he threw himself against the stairs, digging a few of his fingers into a gash in the stone to keep him anchored. He was fine. Thank the Almighty, he was. Petrik, however, was not so lucky. “Help!” the young man shouted, hanging onto the edge of the stairs with a single arm, his other too wounded to hold his weight. Veriq could see that his grasp was slipping, and fast. “Veriq!” Kintas shouted from above. “Are you alright? Petrik needs your help!” Help. How many times had Veriq heard that word and froze? Countless times. So many, that it didn’t even register in his brain the same way it would anyone else. He was the most useless man in Roshar, after all. What help could he be to anyone, other than himself? Breathing deeply, Veriq sucked in some more Stormlight from what was left of Petrik’s spheres. If only he didn’t resist his powers, Petrik could pull himself up from the ledge. “Please, help,” Petrik cried. Veriq panicked and ran. “What are you doing! Petrik needs your help! Turn back!” Kintas was right. Petrik needed him, and what did Veriq do? The same thing he always did. He fled. Maybe today… maybe today could be different. Veriq turned and watched as Petrik’s strength gave out with a yelp, the young man's flailing body falling towards the electrified water. “Grab hold and pull!” Kintas shouted, and suddenly his rope was alive again. Like a skyeel, it flew at Petrik and snagged his broken arm. No longer needed, Veriq turned kept on running, watching as Ranatar pulled back on Kintas' now-gray trousers to keep him from being pulled off the ledge. Once outside, Veriq fell to the ground, utterly drained of Stormlight. "What the colors was that?!” Kintas shouted at him, kicking him in the side so that he rolled onto his back. “How could you just let Petrik fall to his death!” “I’m sorry,” Veriq tried to say, but the words wouldn’t come out. He was too tired to even speak. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?” Ranatar said next. The stormwarden had seen his cowardice too, and in that moment, it seemed the only logical explanation. “I’m sorry,” Veriq tried to say again. This time he couldn’t even move his lips. “Airsick lowlanders!” shouted an unfamiliar voice, just before Veriq was suddenly lifted onto a massive shoulder. “Less talking! More running!” the same voice demanded. Veriq's stomach churned as the world rocked around him. Charging across the bridge, Adolin directed half of his troops towards the Voidbringers lined up along the edge of the Plateau. As the soldiers parted to knock them into the flooded chasm below, the prince and the rest of his men ran for what looked like a massive spike, surrounded by a writhing crowd of those monsters. It was impossible to tell what the crowd was surrounding exactly, but Adolin’s warrior instincts told him that’s where he needed to be. Sure enough, a moment later he saw one of Kaladin’s Squires knock a few of the Voidbringer's off their feet with what looked to be a cookpot. As he ran, he swung the pot wildly with one arm while the other sheltered an unconscious Initiate draped over his shoulder. Voidbringers too stunned to stop them, a few of the smaller, younger Initiates made it free from the battle, although the monsters quickly reformed their line, cutting off the rest. “Pincer formation!” Adolin shouted, sprinting left and saluting Rock as they passed each other, the Horneater determined to lead the women and children to the Oathgate, the prince determined to reach the battle and save what was left of his father’s hopes and dreams. If the Voidbringers had not noticed already, Adolin had no intention of warning them of their advance. Fortunately by the time any one of the monsters heard the soldier's footsteps over the thunder and rain, it was too late for them to act. A flash of light and the clanging of metal. A splash of blood and cries of pain. When the chaos settled, Adolin found himself struggling to catch his breath alongside a man bearing the uniform of the Initiates. His eyes were still dark and his skin did not glow, but whatever this man’s name was, there was power within him. “No time for rest,” he shouted, quickly surveying the faces of the men who were still standing. Only Algo and Loen were dead, then. Good soldiers that deserved a proper burial. Breaking off into a run, Adolin hoped the scouts could find their bodies later. “Brightlord!” yelled a Squire. Teft, if Adolin remembered correctly. “Have you seen our Captain?” “Kaladin? No. I thought he was with you!” The look on Teft's face was cold. Empty. “I don’t… feel him, Brightlord. Not like I’m used to.” “Well, do you still have your powers?” The man’s skin began to glow. “So he’s still alive, then. Probably just took flight when the chasm started flooding.” “I hope you’re right, Brightlord. I hope you’re right.” YOU’VE LOST HIM, KHOLIN. STORMBLESSED IS GONE. Dalinar breathed in the Stormlight then bellowed, “Retreat! Retreat!” His voice was loud enough to shake the earth and rouse the dead. Behind him, Renarin was shaking. Whatever kind of visions he got they were very different than Dalinar’s, for he remained standing, and was still conscious of this world. Ahead of him, Adolin raced across Bridge Eighteen, an entourage of soldiers, Squires and Initiates following close behind him. “What do you mean Stormblessed is gone?” Dalinar mumbled, not wanting to speak loud enough that his honor guard, made up of the former members of Bridge Four, could hear. Unfortunately the Stormfather did not answer. “Renarin, get back inside. Prepare the Oathgate. I’ll shout when we’re ready to go.” “Drehy!” one of Dalinar’s guards yelled, waving his hands to grab the attention of Kaladin’s Squire. After a quick glance behind his shoulder, the man named Drehy ran over to meet his friend. “I don’t see the Captain. Where is he?” “Peet…” Drehy’s face twitched a little, then became as solid as stone. Without saying another word, he looked behind his shoulder once more. “He ran off on his own, Peet, to keep the Voidbringers off our back. Said he would meet us here. I’m sure he’ll show up so-” “-sadly, Squire,” Dalinar interrupted the conversation before Drehy could finish. “As soon as Aladar’s soldier’s finish crossing their bridge, we’re leaving, with or without Stormblessed.” “But sir!” Peet interjected. “Soldier,” Dalinar responded firmly. “I respect your loyalty to your Captain, but do not forget that I am both his and your superior. Besides, Stormblessed is capable enough on his own to return to Urithiru without an escort. Understand?” “Yes, sir…” In the distance, Aladar directed the last of his men onto the Oathgate before stepping onto it himself. “Renarin! Now!” Splash. Veriq was soaked, but that didn’t stop the cold water that was thrown on his face from waking him. Wiping the moisture from his eyes, he looked up to find a clear, beautiful sky, and his fellow Initiates surrounding him. “Veriq, is it?” That was Dalinar’s voice. “Yes, sir,” he said, struggling to rise to his feet, though he could only make it to a knee. “I’ve been informed that you tried to kill one of your fellow Initiates. Is this true?” “I… what? No!” Dalinar sighed, waving several men forward. Of them, Veriq only knew Kintas’ name. Behind the crowd, Petrik watched with sad eyes. “So in your own words tell me what happened, then.” Clear sky or not, the air was strangely tense, as if there was an unseen storm brewing around him. “I… I left Petrik to die, sir. I could have helped him, but ran right past, only concerned with my own safety.” “And before that, while your allies were fighting the Chasmfiend. What did you do?” “Nothing, sir...” “Nothing? You didn’t even lift a finger? Just watched as your allies fought for their lives?” “Yes, sir. I'm worthless, sir.” “Well then you leave me no choice. Initiate Veriq. On the field of battle, non-action is as good as being an accomplice to murder. You could have saved another man’s life and instead left him to fall to his death. How can I trust that you run out of fear, but because you wanted him to die?” “I… I don’t know, sir. I don’t think you can.” “Then you understand the predicament you have put me in. Therefore I hereby sentence you to indefinite imprisonment, until we can decide what to do with you. Adolin, be so kind as to show him to his cell.” “Yes, father,” the prince responded, then stepped up to Veriq. “Come,” he said, his face steeled but eyes shining with contempt. Adolin did not even reach out a hand to help him up. “As for the rest of you,” Dalinar addressed the other Initiates while Veriq was led away. “You’ve been through a lot today. Please, take the evening, and all of tomorrow, off. Relax a little. Perhaps take a stroll through the gardens, or unwind with a drink at Pub Seb. I haven’t been there myself, but Sebarial ensures me that it’s atmosphere is delightful and that it’s got the best menu Urithiru has to offer. “Oh, and do be on the lookout for Arionium. Earlier the man escaped from the Squires and is hiding somewhere within the city.”

Chapter Four is now closed. Chapter Five shall begin sometime within the next two hours.

No, they cannot have contingency orders.

I'll have to go through the entire previous chapter again, but the vote tally I posted should have no errors. If a few people have the time to run through it themselves, I would appreciate it, as I'm currently working on the next chapter's write up, and it's gonna be a doozy, Also, friendly reminder that there's approximately 8 hours and 45 minutes left in this Chapter, so if you haven't earned full honor or you haven't put any orders in, you have until the clock below this sentence hits zero.

Yes, of course that's okay! I have the overall narrative planned, but not the fine details - those are for you, the players, to fill in. I'm happy to see you take the danger up another notch. Braize, I encourage it.

That sounds like a challenge to me. You know what? This is MR20, would be a shame if there was less than 20 players. Unless one more person signs up, I'll play as Temaun Renaud. On that note, don't expect me to be active the last 12 hours of every LG30 Chapter. That's when I do all my work for it.

I'll spectate. As much as I'd love to play, I don't think I can handle it right now.

No.

CHAPTER FOUR Ashetvl has been murdered. She was an Honorable Initiate! Arionium has been arrested. He was guilty of Murder, Fraud, and Multiple Counts of Theft! Three Bonds have been formed! This time I got all the GM PMs sent before posting the thread. I know I've missed a few people before, so if you didn't get one from me, please send me a message. This write up's the longest yet, and I'm sure many of you won't read it. Once again, the only part you really need to read is the last section, as it will explain the current situation. In a nutshell, Eshonai and almost two hundred other Listeners have decided that slaughtering a group of potential Radiants is worth revealing themselves after the Battle of Narak. Chances are, twenty of you won't be able to take that many of them without sustaining casualties, and so Kaladin has sent you along with his Squires to flee to the Oathgate while he tries to fend them off. Of course, he won't be able to distract them all. So have fun running for your lives and warding off the occasional Voidbringer. Best of luck INTERROGATION (5) Quiver: Jondesu, Hemalurgic_Headshot, Assassin in Burgundy, Doc12, Arinian, (1) Ecthelion III: Doc12, (1) Jondesu: Drake Marshall, (7) Arinian: Alvron, Arraenae, A Joe in the Bush, DroughtBringer, TheMightyLopen, randuir, TheSilverDragon, EXECUTION (5/11) AliasSheep: Doc12, Assassin in Burgundy, Drake Marshall, Magestar, TheMightyLopen, PARDON (1/16) AliasSheep: TheSilverDragon, INITIATES A Joe in the Bush as Jonly Assassin in Burgundy as Araon Darkblade Jondesu as Kintas randuir as Ranatar Hemalurgic_Headshot as Sareth-son-Erneth TheSilverDragon as Rea Ecthelion III as Fifth Nameless JUQ as Hess Quiver as Veriq Shqueeves as Leif Doc12 as Hithon Magestar as Balthazar Arraenae as Ralaani TheMightyLopen as Shinon Drake Marshall as Teresh The lazy anarchist as Lyna Telavalet Alvron as Naihar DroughtBringer as Petrik Darkness Ascendant as The Phantom Stranger & Hashiv Elbereth as Tintallë Iurnu PRISONERS Arionium, Guilty of Murder, Fraud, and Multiple Counts of Theft. CASUALTIES Lomot the Honorable Initiate Ashetvl the Honorable Initiate COUNTDOWN Chapter Four will end on Friday, February 17th, at 0400 EST. Chapter Five will begin approximately 2 hours later.

Eshonai awoke to the sound of trumpets. Trumpets, and footsteps. Eyes bleary, she rose while humming to the Rhythm of Anxiety. Judging by the dim light filtering into her makeshift chamber, it was early. Instinctively she clenched her left hand, red energy crackling along her knuckles. She was becoming more accustomed to that reaction every day, and less inclined to summon her Blade whenever she was in danger. Maybe she was just getting used to this new form, but the scream buried deep inside her had another thought on the matter. Questions ran through Eshonai’s head at the pace of a Highstorm. Who blew those horns, and who was running the tunnels? Was it possible that the Alethi had finally found them, and were now attacking with hopes of finishing them off? It was futile, of course. The Alethi may have won the battle in Narak, but they were too late to stop the Everstorm, which meant they already lost the war. Still… she was not quite ready to die. Not yet. Both pieces of her agreed that she had so much left to live for. When she heard the trumpeting again, this time she understood. “General!” a familiar voice yelled from outside her chamber. That was Melu, one of the few survivors from the first legion of warriors that took stormform. Exiting her small, square room, Eshonai turned to face the approaching soldier. It was hard to tell before, but she could now hear the rhythm she was attuned to. Excitement. Cycling through the new Rhythms, Eshonai found Craving. “You look eager. What do the scouts report?” “Alethi, sir. No more than thirty, alone in Narak, fighting a Greatshell.” “What?” Eshonai laughed to the Rhythm of Derision. “Are they mad?” “Not quite. Sir, they’re glowing.” A second later she was sprinting. Eshonai knew these tunnels better than anyone. In those weeks before the battle, she had spent countless hours carving them herself. Confident of her newfound strength or not, she was a General long before she was gifted this form of power, which meant she knew better than to not have a contingency plan. It was inevitable that the Alethi would find Narak. The city was ancient, and not easily disguised. But a system of tunnels and caverns hidden in the chasms, with doors of stone carved to seal out the brunt of the storm and drains to take care of the rest? Even if they knew what to look for, it would take the Alethi a long time to find it, and by then, the listeners would be long gone. More waking soldiers joined Eshonai and Melu as they ran. They didn’t need an explanation to know when to follow. After all, they had heard the Chasmfiend too. Its cries of fury and pain. Eventually the tunnel widened and began sloping upwards. This incline was natural, unlike the perfectly flat walkways she had made. Ahead of her, the sun was dawning, a horizon free of clouds burning as deep a red as her own eyes. Bursting into the light with a legion of listeners trailing in her wake, Eshonai stepped towards the ledge and looked. Narak was far, but not so far that she could not see the figure of a man standing just above it. Even at this distance, she could see the faint wisps of light smoking off his skin. Through her eyes it glowed like fire. She knew that man and what he could do. Besides Blackthorn and his brother, he was the most dangerous man she had ever known. And today, she thought, humming to the Rhythm of Determination, I will kill him and anyone who stands in my way. “Gather everyone!” Eshonai commanded. “We attack at once!” With a wide grin, Kaladin watched as the battle unfolded below. Though he could not hear the words the Initiates shared before they charged, he could tell who were the leaders and who were content to follow. Ranatar, the man he had pushed off the ledge himself, was one of the former. He didn’t look it, but that man had experience leading troops. The Shin man, Sareth, had the potential in him too, though his was a different sort of guidance, more like Dalinar’s than his own. “This isn’t right,” Syl told herself, her voice not much louder than a whisper. A warm breeze flowed through her, her hair and dress stirring as it passed by. The Initiates were winning. Kaladin knew they would, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t putting their lives at risk. It wasn’t an easy decision, especially for him, but he saw what the Everstorm was capable of and knew that these men and women needed to develop faster than he had, and that meant pushing them to the extreme. Please, no one die, he shuddered within, though his body may as well have been soulcast into steel for all the movement he made. And to think it was Shallan who bonded the Cryptic, rather than he. Where was that woman now, anyway? Forcing her out of his mind, Kaladin took note of those who were brave enough to attack the Chasmfiend directly. Araon and Arionium, Hithon and Teresh. Fifth, too, and Balthazar as well. They weren’t a very well coordinated team, but the Stormlight made up for their inefficiencies. So long as Shinon kept firing his arrows and Kintas kept playing at medic, it was just a matter of time until they won. This trial was little more than a battle of attrition, after all. Kaladin knew better than anyone what Stormlight could do. So long as they had it, they could keep fighting. But he also knew how they would feel when it was all gone. Deflated, like an empty wineskin, and so painfully sluggish that it’d take all their willpower to move. Worse than any hangover, waking up the next day would be a trial all its own. Sadly not every Initiate would get that lesson. Many of them hesitated or refused to fight outright. Dalinar had told him not to expect everyone to become warriors, and Shallan had quoted enough passages of that book to make him understand that not every Order was comprised of warriors, but still. It seemed so odd to him how anyone with powers like his could be a coward. Whenever he breathed in, he felt an urge to move, to fight. Was it possible that Stormlight affected people differently? Maybe that was a question worth asking. Now that he thought about it, that brooding man Jonly didn’t even glow when he fell, nor did he when he rose from the tiny crater created by his descent. Looking at him, the man was strong. Determined, too, by the cold fire of his eyes and the set of his jaw. So why did he linger on the sidelines now, doing nothing? Kaladin would have to talk to him after this, he decided. Ralaani, the girl who figured she’d be more helpful drawing the battle than participating in it, suddenly gasped at his side. Instead of looking at her, his eyes darted to the Chasmfiend, praying that someone hadn’t just been killed. “What happened?” he asked, expecting to see a man cut in two, or a pile of blood and gore. “Baltahzar just jumped in the Chasmfiend’s mouth!” she said then began sketching madly, presumably to capture the scene. Fool man, Kaladin thought. Not of Balthazar, but himself. Sure, Balths was a fool, too, but this trial was his idea alone, and no one else could be blamed for what happened during it. Kaladin only hoped the Initiate’s death was quick, unable to imagine how terrifying being digested alive would be. After being dazed by a rockfall and having a few of its claws cut off, the Chasmfiend didn’t look like it had much fight in it left. There were a few more close calls, as even Kaladin could only dodge so many furious swipes at once, but it looked like no one else would die today, and for that he was thankful. At least until the Chasmfiend began to collapse, with that young boy Rea weaving underneath the creature’s legs, as if playing some kind of game. A cloud of dust whooshed away from its body, obscuring the forms of its challengers. Had Rea made it out? Kaladin couldn’t tell, but he certainly hoped. Nearing death, the Chasmfiend flailed wildly, nearly knocking Fifth and Sareth off its head. Miraculously, the pair had managed to regain their footing and continue towards its head, quarterstaves in hand, looking like they aimed to finish it off, once and for all. What happened next, no one could have predicted. The Chasmfiend rolled. Even from this far, he could see the violet globs of fear manifest around them. They were trapped on all sides by the creature’s spines, rapidly lurching towards the earth. Towards Kintas and Uther, and someone else whom Kaladin didn’t recognize, lying down and covered in dust. It was done. In its death throes, the Chasmfiend had flipped on top of his foes. There was room enough for them to squeeze, but the spikes were so many, what were the chances that not a single Initiate had been pinned, or worse? Spren like arrowheads steamed off the Chasmfiend’s body, dissipating as they drifted towards the sky. It’s mouth lolled open and began spewing blood and gore. Even a few rocks, and what must have been Balthazar’s sword. All four of his Squires were there now. They had begun running when they saw what was happening, but were too far to interfere. Kaladin breathed in a wealth of Stormlight, and they began to glow. Skar, Drehy, Teft and Leyten reached the corpse at once, each wrapping their arms around one of the Chasmfiend’s spines, and began lifting with all of their might. Slowly but surely the monster was lifted, revealing pools of blood and the soldiers underneath. Uther was crawling on his face, dragging Hithon behind him. The blind man had been knocked unconscious, but fortunately he was still breathing. Kintas, who somehow seemed shorter than before, stood up unscathed, eyes locked on Sareth whose gut had been ran through with a spine and was now dangling from it, grabbing at the point and pulling himself towards it, like sliding meat off a kebab. Fifth was nowhere to be seen. Glancing over his shoulder at the Initiates who remained atop the Oathgate with him, Kaladin barked at them to jump now, or else be exiled for refusing to follow orders. Hess shrugged without a word and, reluctantly, Veriq approached the ledge. He didn’t have time to wait. Riding on the wind, Kaladin soared. More and more every day, what he did felt less like falling and more like flying. Before he knew it, he was there beside his Squires, helping them hold the corpse up before they lost all their strength. Behind him, a few lingering Initiates ran to their fellow’s aid. Shinon helped Uther to his feet, then slung Hithon over his shoulder. Petrik, his arm still limp, let Sareth lean on his other shoulder and, along with Kintas, led him out into the open air. Once free, the Initiates fell to the ground, exhausted. Some of them even had the audacity to laugh at what just happened. The rest just watched them as if they were crazy, their faces apprehensive. Kaladin let go of his spine and spun on them, his Squires letting theirs down slowly. “What about Fifth?” he yelled, voice echoing loudly in the city within the chasm. “Rea?” he added, remembering the little boy. “Here,” a man coughed, rounding the other side of the Chasmfiend. It was Fifth, and in his arms, he cradled the child Initiate. Kaladin breathed a sigh of relief. Only Balthazar had died, then. A terrible loss, still, but better than it could have been. “Uh, Kal?” Teft said, voice laced with concern. “What is it, Teft?” Kaladin asked as he turned. “The Chasmfiend…” It was moving. “Syl!” Kaladin shouted, brandishing his hand. Drawn from her reverie, she zipped to his arm as a ribbon of light, spinning round it until she reached his palm and formed into a glistening spear. No one else would die today. Their trial was done, and Kaladin would finish this once and for. The Chasmfiends mandibles twitched and Kaladin prepared to lunge. Then, with a wet slosh, Balthazar slid out of its mouth, covered in blood and slime, but smiling still. In his hands he held a massive gemheart. Ashetvl was no longer alone. It’ll be okay, the voice told her. It was beautiful and comforting like her mother’s. All night it had assured her that the worst was over, that she was going to be fine. At first she thought the Highstorm had driven her insane, but then she saw the spren - not completely, but it was hiding there, in the corner of her eye - and she understood that she really was a Radiant. Or at the very least was on her way to becoming one. Only the spren was wrong. Nothing would be okay. The worst had not yet come. She was not going to be fine. “You know why I’m here, don’t you?” a different voice said from the darkness beyond her cell. “To let me free?” Ashetvl said, not hopeful, but with a sneer. It might be too dark to see, but she could feel the tension in the air. It reminded her of that final minute before yesterday’s Highstorm. “In a sense,” the voice said. Metal scraped as a sword was drawn from a scabbard. “Any last words?” “None for you,” Ashetvl answered. Not with a whimper, but a bang. It was strange how ready she was for this. How cold she felt inside, and yet how hot were words felt as they passed her lips. She had spent so much of her life crying, she decided she would greet death differently. “Very well then,” the voice replied with a hint of morning. “Let justice be done.” Arionium sat away from the other Initiates, alone and uninterested in having a conversation. His stomach grumbled, but he didn’t feel like eating. Balthazar was boasting, again, a pair of gloryspren circling his head like a halo. Arionium knew the man had an ego before, but after ripping that beast’s heart free and presenting it to Kaladin like a prize, he had gotten even worse. Honestly, he just wanted to return to his bed, but that Dullbrain Kaladin had insisted they remain here for lunch, only a few dozen meters away from that monster’s stinking corpse. One of his men, that giant who had woken him by banging on a cookpot the day before, had emerged from one of the ancient buildings with the very same cookpot, though this time it was filled with fresh stew. It really did smell good and the others seemed to be enjoying it, but Arionium wasn’t in the mood for building camaraderie, whatever the damnation that was. Dullbrain had used the word in another one of his speeches. He also talked about the importance of following tradition, and how the best of friendship’s could only be forged on the field of battle. Arionium saw his words for what they were, though. Useless blathering. He chuckled to himself, thinking it fitting that a Windrunner would have so much air filling their head. Silence. Why was everyone suddenly quiet? “What’s so funny?” someone asked. Arionium didn’t try to memorize the other Initiate’s names, let alone their voices. Ignoring the question deliberately, he turned away. “Hey, I’m talking to you!” the man yelled. Arionium’s only response was him cracking his neck. Behind him, a few of the Initiates rose loudly. Before he knew it, he was surrounded by a handful of them. Not that he even made an effort to acknowledge them. “Why are you being so reclusive?” someone else asked, this one's voice softer than the other’s. He wasn’t challenging him, but his tone was probing. Arionium hated people who didn’t know how to mind their own business. Arionium turned the soulstamp for his sword over in his hand. In the fight it had been crushed slightly, and with a tiny blade, he was trying to fix the mold. He was quite fond of that blade, and would hate losing it. “I don’t like this, Shinon. How can we be expected to trust someone who never talks to us?” One of the other men grunted at that. “Do you think… I mean, I’m no murderer. But if I was one and didn’t want anyone to know, I’d probably keep my mouth shut, to make sure I don’t say anything suspicious.” “Now that you mention it, Naihar, something does seem off about this guy. Before I thought it was just because he’s a foreigner, but… maybe you’re right. What should we do? Arionium’s hand slipped, the scalpel cutting the the tip of his thumb. Without thinking, he tapped one of his golden rings and wiped the blood on his cheek, the wound underneath freshly knit. “Did you see that?” “He didn’t even breathe.” “What the storms is he?” “Arionium,” barked one of the men, prompting him to look up, surprised he knew his name. “Earlier I saw you with a sword. Where is it?” Shrugging, he went back to his work. “Now that you mentioned it Jonly, he didn’t have a sword when he jumped off the Oathgate. But when he landed, there was suddenly one in his hand. Could it have been…?” “A Shardblade!” three of them gasped at once. Beyond the men, the group of less violent Initiates sat up abruptly. “It was you, wasn’t it? You killed Lomot! But why?” This time Arionium couldn’t keep his mouth shut. It was one thing to talk about him behind his back, another two feet in front of him, but to accuse him of murder? Where he came from, those were fighting words. “I didn’t kill the man,” he answered, rising. “Now step off.” “What’s the problem here?” Dullbrain yelled, drawn to them by all the commotion. “We’ve figured it out, sir. This man’s the one who killed Lomot.” The men parted ways, letting Kaladin through. He wasn’t smiling now, but Arionium could still picture his ugly mug grinning. It made him mad. “I didn’t kill him,” he growled. “He’s lying, sir! Ask him about his Blade!” “Blade?” Kaladin asked, then surveyed the man’s equipment. Everything the man owned was laid out on a sheet before him, and the closest thing he had to a sword was the dagger that he stamped. “Where is it?” “That’s exactly it, sir! Arionium never carries a sword, but when we were fighting, he had one! There’s only one logical explanation!” Kaladin considered the words. The way the Radiant looked at him made Arionium want to beat in his face. “Skar! Leyten!” Kaladin yelled. A moment later, two of his Squires were by his side. “I’m going to need you two to escort Arionium to Urithiru. Dalinar needs to have a word with him.” Unhesitant, the Squires reached for him. “Leave off!” Arionium recoiled from their touch with a shout. “I’m not going anywhere!” “You don’t have a choice, Initiate,” Kaladin said, flexing his hand by his side. “Stand down and follow my orders. You will return to Urithiru and speak with Dalinar at once.” “No!” Arionium yelled in defiance. “I ain’t the one who killed Lomot!” More of the Initiates were watching now. Between the bodies of the Squires, Arionium could see that little boy peeking his head, trying to see what was happening. In the blink of an eye, one of the Squires got behind Arionium, the other blocking his vision in front. He felt a tug on his arms behind his back, and then they went cold. No matter how hard he struggled, he couldn’t remove his arms from where they were bent, as if they had somehow been bound together. They began dragging him away. “Listen!” he began. “I have done many bad things that I don't consider criminal, and I’ve lied to many people many times but all that means nothing…” All my life I thought that I was a selfish person who loves only myself. I was wrong, but I understand now, even if it is too late. “Only crime I will admit is this one! It was so long ago, now, but it’s the only one that matters! “Her name was Leiren, and yes, I killed her. At first I thought I did it to save my brother. Yes, he loved her, and she loved him. She nearly convinced him to break the First Deal. I don’t expect you to know what that is, but understand that it’s as good as treason. She had to die. “But that was the lie I told myself. Truth be told, that was only an excuse, and it took countless years for me to realize it. “Now I understand I killed her out of selfishness. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever met, and I was jealous she didn’t feel the same as me. In my heart, I believed that my brother didn’t deserve her. And if I couldn’t have her, then no one should. As simple as that.” He was so far away now. Could they even hear him? “I have killed before! But I did not kill that man! Trust me! Believe me!” Why wouldn’t they believe? “Who’s there?” Renarin shouted, leaping at the sudden crash. “Don’t worry, Brightlord!” yelled Skar. The young Kholin could now hear a few grunts and the sounds of struggling. A moment later Skar and Leyten, along with an Initiate whom they clearly bound and gagged with Stormlight, descended into the circular chamber. “Mind helping us get to Urithiru? Captain’s orders.” Swallowing hard, Renarin beckoned for Glys in that strange, wordless way he always had. The spren didn’t like becoming a Blade, but he had no qualms about acting the Key. “This isn’t right, Kaladin,” Syl said, quivering in the sudden gust of wind. “You don’t think I made the right decision?” he asked, feeling the urge to walk somewhere more private. Teft and Drehy were his Squires, however, and should be allowed to hear what she had to say. A drop of rain hit his brow and without thinking, Kaladin wiped it away. “Not that,” Syl dismissed thoughtlessly, and for the first time, Kaladin really felt her fear. Glancing at her, he found her watching the sky. When had it got so gray, anyway? A flash of red lightning, followed by the immediate pounding of thunder. That could only mean one thing. “Voidbringers!” one of the Initiates shouted. There were dozens of them - no, hundreds - standing upon the ledges of the plateaus above, looking down. Many of them were chanting, though some were gathering energy in their hands, preparing to cast their fury down upon them. Among them, a single Voidbringer wearing Shardplate raised a Blade above her head and screamed. By the tens, they dove off their perches, landing in the massive chasm no further than a thousand meters away. There was no way the Initiates were ready for this. Exhausted from their battle with the Chasmfiend and at least half of their infused spheres drained, their only hope would be to flee to the Oathgate and escape. “Initiates, behind me!” he commanded, surprised how quickly many of them obeyed. “Rock, take them to the Spire and up to the Oathgate,” he yelled, referring to a massive, needle-like structure they discovered while scouting, containing nothing more than a ring of stairs that would take them to the plateaus above. “Teft, Drehy! Protect their rear and their flanks! Try to prevent as many of the Parshendi from reaching them as you can!” he looked at them both in the eyes, satisfied by their solemn nods. “And Initiates… watch each other’s backs. There’s no guarantee that the scouts will report this in time to do us any good, so don’t hope for reinforcements. Just get to the Oathgate as fast as you can. I’ll meet you there.” “Meet us there, sir?” Drehy asked. Without answering, Kaladin charged forward, towards the line of Parshendi forming ahead. Several pulses of red lightning shot forth from them, some arcing to the ground, others hurtling towards him. Blessed Syl manifested as a silvery shield, then, the azure glyph of the Windrunners emblazoned on her front, crimson bolts of energy glancing off her and hitting the ground. Please, no one die, Kaladin prayed for the second time that day. If his foolish trial cost those people their lives, he was certain he could not survive the guilt. Not this time.

Chapter Three is now closed. Chapter Four shall begin sometime within the next two hours.

Psh. Wait until the sequel before you say that

Believe me. I've got bigger plans than another greatshell for Chapter Four...

Thank you very much sir I spend a lot of time on these, so I'm always happy to hear people are enjoying them My handcannon is that if you're not *used* to Stormlight, it's not as effective. Theoretically, everyone in this game is as strong as Kaladin was during the majority of The Way of Kings, as he didn't speak the Second Ideal and start doing the really fancy stuff until the Battle of the Tower, when he swore the Second. I'm pretty sure if Kaladin jumped off a ledge this tall back then, he would have been severely injured, but unlike him, you guys actually know what you need to do: breathe. I'm sorry guys, I messed up the win conditions again. The Unjust need to outnumber the *living* Honorable, so just arresting them and having majority won't cut it.. The Honorable, on the other hand, only need to arrest the Unjust to win. I think the only question is about the OOA regarding pardons and Unjust killing an imprisoned player. The Pardon will happen first, so they need to use two Unjust to execute them. Thank you very much I'm also loving everyone's RP. It's what keeps me motivated to keep producing these!