Amanuensis

Elsecaller can. Stoneward can't. Windrunner's block trumps all actions. So, if a Windrunner targets an Elsecaller, the Elsecaller's ability will be canceled. However, if the Windrunner targets another player targeted by the Elsecaller, it will hit the person swapped with them. In the event that a Windrunner blocks a player that an Elsecaller is teleporting themselves with, a paradox will cause a rift in the spacetime continuum, releasing Odium upon Roshar and destroying all life as we know it. That is correct. If the Windrunner blocks an Unjust attempting to execute someone, the kill will fail. Lightweaver's will be informed which player's are saying what. EDIT: Also, as a reminder, if you want to allocate the Honor you earn this turn to a specific Spren, let me know now in your GM PM. Otherwise it will gather until you are ready to spend it.

Bonds only restrict the individual, although that does, in turn, restrict the whole faction, as that's less Unjust that can investigate and execute the Honorable. I have a plan, yes, but you the players have free will of your own to enact as you wish. The interrogation vote can be used every cycle after this one. Pardons and executions can only be used if there is at least one player imprisoned already. So, for example, you can not vote to interrogate a player and execute them in the exact same turn. Stoneward does not sacrifice themselves for their target.

Asking the GM questions does not count. Discussion is qualified by at least two players participating.

It will be announced when bonds are formed and broken, but not what kind or with who.

I won't reveal the exact amounts, but each spren requires a specific number of Honor to bond. In the event that multiple players reach that number at once, a dice will be rolled to determine who gets it. In the event that a Radiant dies or goes inactive, the spren will move onto a random player that meets the requirement. The more honor someone has invested in a single spren, the greater chance they'll have of bonding it. I will not be posting tallies of who spends honor on what.

CHAPTER ONE And so it begins. Everyone shall receive their alignments in their GM PMs shortly. Note that there will be no interrogation today. This Chapter is an opportunity for characters to interact, strategies to be discussed, PMs to be established, and Honor to be earned. Use the time wisely, Initiates. If you can't be bothered to read the entire write up, I recommend you read the fourth part, at the very least, as it describes the scene in which your characters will be interacting. Feel free to take some creative liberties with it, if you wish, as I've not given nearly as many details as there should be. INITIATES Amanuensis as Lomot 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 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 AliasSheep as Ashetvl The lazy anarchist as Lyna Telavalet Alvron as Naihar DroughtBringer as Petrik Darkness Ascendant as The Phantom Stranger & Hashiv Elbereth as Tintallë Iurnu COUNTDOWN Chapter One will end on Wednesday, February 8th, at 0400 EST. Chapter Two will begin 2 hours later.

After several long nights of deliberation, Shallan finally decided she was ready to learn the truth. “No, not Shallan,” she mumbled as she examined herself for the seventh time that evening. The havah that Navani gifted her for tonight’s gala fit astoundingly well, despite her not being present whenever it was made. Even so, Shallan could not help but feel awkward wearing it. It was a dress befitting a queen - which she most certainly was not - woven from the finest silk she’d ever felt. Dyed a rich variety of blues, it glistened like the sea, or perhaps more like a sapphire broam. Black lace traced each hem, the tiniest, most intricate flowers that a master seamstress would dare create sprouting from their edges. Beginning at her throat and going down to her waist, five golden needles pierced ten silver loops, binding the two layers of the havah tight to keep it from sliding off her shoulders and pooling at her feet. Let Shallan Davar be a Radiant, conformist and noble, Mraize told her on that equally terrible and glorious day. Let Veil come to us. And let her find the truth. It was Veil who decided for her, and once she did, any fears Shallan had left receded deep within her, allowing confidence to swell into the chasm left in its wake. Oddly enough, Pattern seemed affected by the decision, too. Whenever he hummed, he did so in a brighter tone than usual, and his intangible tendrils undulated with more energy than she had ever witnessed before. Though she did not acknowledge it at the time, she felt their Bond grow the moment she admitted that last, horrific truth. Before then, she would have to observe and analyze the Cryptic’s peculiar mannerisms to determine his mood, but now the understanding came natural to her. It was difficult to explain exactly what she was feeling, but at the very least she knew that Pattern had somehow become a part of her. Strange feelings tickled her mind whenever the spren thought or moved, similar to how a frozen limb felt shortly after it found warmth. Despite everything that transpired between them, she could sense that Pattern was happy, but perhaps that was not the right term for it. He was just… well, more alive. More vibrant, and more real. I hate you, she sobbed to him on that very same day. To the monster who destroyed her family and ruined her life. I know, Pattern murmured to her, his buzzing hinting regret. Because of him, a Radiant was born, forged from sorrow and lies. Eventually, you will kill me, and you will have your revenge. That was his way of trying to reassure her, she now realized. But what good would revenge do her? Neither Shallan nor Veil had a need for such a fantasy. Despite the facade of sanity she fought so hard to maintain, that was one lie she wouldn’t try to sell herself. Revenge could not change the fact that her mother had tried to kill her, nor could it bring her father or Helaran back to life. Her only hope was to find a purpose and keep on pushing. “I get how hard it must be to accept, but we’re Radiants now; aren’t we? We’ve got to think for more than just ourselves.” Those were the words she told Kaladin, when he asked for leave to save his family. They were both the hardest words, and the truest words, Shallan ever had to say out loud. Considering that Kaladin remained, they seemed to convince him to stay. The only question Shallan had now was if they managed to convince herself? Behind her, a pair of knocks resounded from the metal door that separated her washroom from her bedchamber. After that day, she had to move rooms, too traumatized by the truth Pattern forced her to admit. Eyebrows raised, Shallan glanced over the reflection of her shoulder and beckoned for her visitor - or, as she soon learned, visitors - to enter into her washroom. Wearing a simple, cloth dress made for leisure, Navani walked in, her eyes sparkling as she glimpsed Shallan in her havah for the first time. Just a step behind, Navani’s nephew and Shallan’s betrothed, Adolin, smiled at her handsomely. He too wore a casual outfit, albeit a stylish one, though it seemed a little dirty at the knees and scuffed at the cuffs. “Why, dear, don’t you just look Radiant,” Navani complemented Shallan as she pulled her into an embrace. Over the last week, the woman was treating her more and more like a daughter. A part of Shallan worried that she might be trying to fill the gap Jasnah left behind, but she had to admit, it felt good to have a mother figure in her life, again. Deciding it better not to mention how uncomfortable she felt wearing the havah, Shallan thanked Navani kindly, then slipped through the woman’s arms to greet her fiance. Noticing the loving gaze they shared, Navani excused herself from the washroom to wait in the hallway outside. “She’s right, you know. I can see the grimace you’re hiding, but you really do look quite stunning.” “Come now, Adolin. I thought we were well beyond flattery.” Having never stopped smiling, the prince’s grin only grew bigger, though when Shallan moved in close for a kiss, he had no choice but to purse his lips together so that he could return it. For a long moment they remained there, pressed together, sharing the same breath. Although they were as still as stone, Shallan trembled within, and judging by how tightly Adolin’s hands gripped her waist, she imagined he felt the same way. Once satisfied, the two parted. Already Adolin was smiling again. As he did, he looked her up and down, then leaned over the side to see her reflection in the mirror behind her. Astonished by his blatancy, Shallan slapped the boy - lightly, of course - on the cheek, and then tilted his chin so that his eyes were looking into hers again. “I’m sorry,” he told her, though his tone didn’t sound very apologetic. “I just want to see as much of you as I can before the gala begins. I really wish I could be there with you. You know that, right?” “I know you do, and I wish you could be there, too. But tonight is for the Radiants and the Initiates to all meet and mingle. That’s it. Honestly, I don’t understand what you’re so worried about.” “It’s not that I’m worried. It’s just I…” he frowned. “Stop it. I know what you’re going to say, and I don’t want to hear it. I’m telling you, Adolin, nothing is going to happen. If they can breathe stormlight, then they can’t be bad people. Spren don’t Bond bad people.” “But how can you be sure? Just because you’re great doesn’t mean they all automatically have to be.” Shallan rolled her eyes. “What about your father? And Renarin? Are they not great, too?” “Well, yes…” “And Kaladin?” “I mean, he’s alright, I guess…” “Adolin,” Shallan sighed, then began to tap her foot impatiently. “Fine, fine. Just be careful, alright? I can’t explain why, but I have a really bad feeling about tonight.” “Well maybe you should worry about yourself, then, or perhaps the rest of the people living in Urithiru. If anything, the gala should be the safest place in all of Roshar, with so many almost-Radiants running around.” This time it was Adolin who sighed. “Yes, yes. You’re probably right. But just in case, there’s something I want to give you. For luck, and protection.” “What is it?” Shallan asked as Adolin reached into his pocket. A series of jingles, or perhaps more accurate, a soft rubbing of metal on metal, came from it as he fished whatever-it-was out. When the prince finally removed his hand and opened his palm, she couldn’t help but gasp. “Your mother’s chain? But why? It means so much to you…” “It does mean a lot to me,” Adolin said with a soft, yet confident smile. “But not nearly as much as you do.” Stunned, Shallan stared at him in silence. Without even thinking, her hand suddenly covered her mouth, in a vain attempt to hide her reaction. A second later she shivered, and her eyes began to water. “Oh, Shallan… please don’t cry...” Shallan couldn’t hold it in anymore. Shaking now, she burst out with laughter. “Adolin! That was horrible!” she choked out between snickers. “How long did you practice that corny line?” “What? I offer you an extremely personal gift, and this is how you repay me? By laughing in my face? Maybe I should just take this back, then, since you clearly don’t want it... ” he said as his hand slowly returned to his pocket. “No, no,” Shallan intercepted his hand, though she couldn’t stop laughing, not that she made an effort to try. “I love it, Adolin. I really do. I just… storms, that was bad. But bad in a good way, I promise.” Again he looked at her with that breathtaking smile of his. “Can I put it on you then?” “Please. It would me a lot to me. But not nearly as much as you do.” Perfect! Perfect! It needed to be perfect! It was the only thought Lomot could process while he worked on perfecting his face. All around him, creationspren faded into existence, not that he ever noticed, as thankfully they never appeared between his face and the mirror before him. If he did look, however, he’d see the silver strings take the shape of his lips, some bending in ways that weren’t physically possible, others opening up to reveal a spinning eye within. Hours had passed since he began his art. His cheeks were covered in numerous layers of foundation, each coat slightly darker, smaller and more precise than the last, their purpose to emphasize his bone structure while also masking his imperfect complexion, and to do so in a way that was both noticeably distinct and realistically shaded. When will it be perfect?, a voice whispered in his mind. Not his voice, but a voice that sounded a lot like the rapid flapping of a larkin’s wings. Lomot paid it no attention, however, as he was much too focused on his art. A few more strokes and he’d be done contouring his face, and once that was finished, the true challenge would begin. Reaching into one of six bowls that lay in front of him, he grabbed a handful of red leaves that crumbled easily at a touch. Holding them over a small, funnel-like tube, he rubbed his hand together until its maw was filled with the vibrant dust, to which he added a viscous, colorless liquid whose name he could hardly spell, let alone pronounce. For a minute he watched the mixture bubble and writhe. All around him, creationspren faded out of existence, not that he ever noticed, as his eyes did not wander from his task. If he did look, however, he’d see a single, black string take the shape of a his lips, sometimes curving in ways that weren’t physically possible, other times opening up to reveal a pair of blinking eyes within. Perfect! Perfect! He needed to be perfect! YOU’RE A FOOL, DALINAR KHOLIN. Storms, was he tired of hearing that. For a sliver of the Almighty Himself, the Stormfather wasn’t very kind or benevolent. If not for the Squire kneeling on the ground before him and the crowd of servants flocking nearby, Dalinar would have responded to the god’s taunting just then. But alas, he had more important matters to attend to. “Rise, Sigzil. What brings you to me this evening?” “Well, sir, it’s a little complicated” the man replied in his distinct Azish accent. It was hard to tell by his face if he was nervous, as his skin was so dark and the night so dim, but there was the faintest hint of something in his tone that made Dalinar’s brow crease with worry. “Isn’t everything these days,” he said, more to himself than to the young Squire. “I suppose this can’t wait until the morning?” Nearby, a few servants chattered as they fixed a table, and behind Dalinar, a caterer dropped a platter of food in surprise. “Perhaps it can, sir, though he insisted on speaking with you at once. He wouldn’t tell me why, exactly, but he did mention your niece.” “My niece? Jasnah?” No wonder Sigzil seemed to be dancing around the subject. Jasnah was dead, after all, and few men were fond of bearing bad news. “I’m guessing her body has been recovered, then?” “I’m not sure, sir, but I don’t think that’s the case. He sounded happy when he mentioned her.” Dalinar considered that for a moment, stroking his beard as he thought. Shallan had assured him, with a heavy heart, that Jasnah was dead. She described the attack, and how she only narrowly escaped the ship before it was consumed by flame. What good news could anyone bring after that? Close by, someone cackled with delight. “I suppose there’s still time until the gala is ready. Where is this man, Sigzil? And just who is he, exactly?” “Well, sir… he’s right behind you now, actually,” Sigzil said, pointing over Dalinar’s shoulder, prompting him to turn around. Several feet away, a man dressed in all back watched a servant, like a hawk, as she anxiously cleaned up the mess that she made - or more likely, he - made. “You!” Dalinar shouted, surprised, confused, and maybe a little bit amused, as well. “Me!” Wit shouted instinctively and then, suddenly aware that he had been addressed, lifted his head to begin searching for the source. “Ah, Dalinar. There you are! Long time, no see. I hear you’ve been talking to Shadows while I’ve been gone. Everything okay up there, old friend?” Wit asked, wagging a finger at the Highprince’s head. Ignoring the provocation, Dalinar went straight to the point. “What do you know about Jasnah?” “That unlike a fine wine, she really doesn’t get better with age.” Dalinar’s jaw tightened. Wit stared at him blankly, and then, suddenly, his face became more grave. “Despite what you’ve heard, Jasnah is still alive and kicking. In fact, she’s on her way to Kholinar now, hoping she can fix the damage Aesudan has done before the city falls apart at its seams. She also thinks she can open the Oath Gate there using what he learned from the Highspren in Shadesmar, though I’m not so sure about that. Jasnah, alive? Damage Aesudan has done? Highspren? Shadesmar? So many questions, and so little time for answers. “Wit… thank you. I’m glad you came here to share this with me, but unless you’re going to tell me you’re a Radiant now, too, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Tonight’s a little important. Can we finish this conversation in the morning?” “Hmm. I suppose Elhokar’s not here, is he? Huh. I should probably go find His Majesty, then, and tell him the news as well. I am the King’s Wit, after all. Not the Tyrant’s. Enjoy your night while you can, friend. Oh! And do tell what’s left of Tanavast that Midius the Meddlesome says hello.” Expression stoic, Dalinar watched Wit depart, then turned to find Sigzil doing the same. Although he could still not real the Squires face, an idea struck him. “You know him, don’t you?” “I do, sir. More than most, I reckon, though I still know so little.” “What can you tell me, then?” “Not much that will have any meaning to you. Though I can say he’s a smart man. Dangerous, too, even though he may not seem it. I wouldn’t want to be on whatever side he isn’t, that’s for sure.” “Well then, son. Let’s hope he remains on ours, then.” The sky was beautiful at this height; so clear and majestic. As Lomot ascended the stairs to the roof of Urithiru, he stared upon that vast, black mural, tracing patterns by the countless stars. As usual, Taln’s Scar was the first of the constellations he saw, being the only slash of red among clusters of blue and white, though once he stepped out into the open, all he could see was the gala. There were no servants present. Only Radiants, Initiates, and a few of the Squires. Lomot did not know all their names, but he recognized the important ones. Those two men who fought Kaladin on that first day, for example. They stood between him and a group of Initiates now, along with an Azish man and a massive Unkalaki. Beneath the glow of one of ten four-pronged post bearing an equal number lanterns containing infused spheres, Highprince Dalinar and his son, Renarin, talked alone. By their body language, it seemed like they were having a debate, although the younger boy had the faintest grin upon his face. Lingering nearby, a few Initiates watched the two Kholins curiously, likely hoping that they’d finish their conversation soon so that they could introduce themselves. Close to a large heating fabrial that sat at the roof’s center, Shallan Davar seemed to be instructing a few curious Initiates on the science behind the technology. Although Lomot himself wasn’t very interested in fabrials, his instincts urged him to join that crowd and see what he could learn. That was before he caught a whiff of the massive buffet and his stomach growled of hunger, however. The long table was packed with food and was, perhaps, the most crowded attraction of them all. Judging by the smell, Lomot could tell why. While the culinary arts certainly weren’t where his talents lied, he appreciated them as much as anyone else. Wandering towards the buffet, he watched a man sip from a bowl, then listened as they sighed with bliss. Stepping beside him, Lomot reached for a lump of bread making sure to brandish the rainbow henna that decorated his flesh. On his arms, they traced his veins, but the true art was upon his face. Taking care not to ruin it, he took a small bite of the bread, pleasantly surprised by meat, cheese, and vegetable gravy filled in its middle.

Woo got our first spectator. I'll send you a link soon. Sad to see you go, but that's fine Straw. Hope everything is well! Woo! Another new player. I'm sure I'm not the only one who gets excited at the sight of fresh blood. Happy to have you, LA (or would you rather go by another nickname?)! You are, friend. It's just as Jondesu pointed out. At the very top of the second post, it explains that signing up for this game requires 200 words of RP about your character.

Surprised I didn't ask you this question already; why did you decide to vote for Drake over me?

Well you're in luck! Because I'm actually extending the sign ups (and the turnover by extension) by just a hair. Should give you a little more time that Chapter. This will be the final extension for the sign ups. So for anyone else who wants in, you'll have the countdown timer below hits zero to post your 200 word character introduction. Chapter 1 will begin an hour later (so that I can take care of alignment distributions). Each Chapter will close every three days at 0400 EST, followed by a two hour gap for STINK and I to process the results and produce the write up. @Conquestor, @Manukos, @Darkness Ascendant, you three have expressed interest, but still have not met the sign up requirement. Once you do I will happily add you to the player list, but if you don't, I'm afraid you'll just have to spectate the game. If anyone else is interested in playing - or at the very least, spectating - I hope to hear from you soon. Ciao for now.

Lopen and I came to the conclusion that if Bard wasn't using the Double Agent Faction Action to create PMs, then they weren't creating one at all, which suggested a more tactical thinking player. So me, believing that both him and Bard were innocent, you seemed like the next best option. Plus I thought it was weird that the turn you almost died a bunch of votes piled up on Lopen instead.

Fair enough. A smart play, albeit the wrong one in this scenario. I guess I can't really argue that my part in killing Joe was evidence of me being innocent, given how I killed a teammate last QF and won for the eliminators.

Great game! I can't wait to read the evil doc, but sadly I can't now. Sorry to all the villagers I helped kill with my improper analysis. I didn't think the GMs would put all three of the Double Agents in a chain together. Honestly, if Drake didn't PM me when he did, I would have gone for Dani, too Just out of curiosity, why did you decide to vote for me, Dani and Mage? And Dani, did you put in your ability to cut off one of Drake's PMs just in case? I asked people to pass that to you if possible Can't believe I forgot to say it, but great job Double Agents! I think that if Drought had not died to inactivity, things would have gone very differently.

It's individual. So, if there are four Unjust on C1, they can decide to investigate four different players and then during the next two chapters execute two of them at a time, for example. This, however, means they are unable to bond any spren, and therefore the village will end up with all of the powers. Any player can only perform a single action each cycle, so a single Unjust cannot Investigate and Execute in a single turn.

I'll count the Epigraphs. It's a nice touch. Welcome back, JUQ! Happy to have you. And you said you weren't a good writer. Hah! Airsick lowlander. I've decided to extend sign ups until 2200 EST on Saturday, February 4th, to give people some extra time to work on their characters / introductions, as well as allow the QF to finish up. Also it really helps my schedule out quite a bit. Here's the new countdown timer, which will be edited onto page one as well.

It'll come as a balancing factor. Depends a bit on how the Unjust decide to strategize. In all scenarios it will occur after a couple Unjust die, to ensure they're still competitive in late game. To create the bond, a minimum amount of Honor is required to be invested. It's different for most spren, and will remain a secret for now. Even when you hit that mininum requirement, it's still going to be a dice roll to determine if you get it, and if multiple people meet the requirement, who. After that bond is formed, each spren needs a single honor per turn.

The minimum amount of votes required for executions and pardons are the total number of living, free players, not from those who participate. So if there's 16 free players and 1 in prison, 8 are required to vote on a single prisoner to execute him, while 12 are required to pardon him. The Unjust will have a doc, but that doesn't count as a private message, and thus cannot be spied on by the Lightweaver. An inkspren will not sever their Bond in such a situation. Valorspren is the only one that has issues being responsible for the death of another. In that situation, the Unjust will be unable to find their target. If the new target does have known crimes, however, they will kill them. Otherwise they will return to "HQ" PMs are allowed, and have no restrictions other than 1 - they can only exist between two players (plus both GMs) 2 - cannot be used during the gap between Chapters. They are allowed, so talk about RP collaboration in those

246, to be precise I'll add you to the list, though I'd love to see Fifth Nameless' first moments in Urithiru

Agent Desmond Isaac King, A.K.A. Silvertongue, reviewed his latest message from headquarters with a equal mixture of interest and confusion. This wouldn't be his first time hunting ninjas, of course. He had just spent a couple years in Japan, and during his exploits there, he often crossed paths with a clan or two. But considering he was now in California on an agency sanctioned R&R, it seemed an odd request. Then again, he had once heard of a rather infamous ninja in the area, one who sources claim has never been seen in person. If not for her activity on various forums across the internet, in which she bragged about the insane heists and incredible assassinations she's pulled off, people would think a ghost was responsible for the spree of crimes she's committed. Last he remembered, she went by the name of some kind of elvish poem dedicated to some goddess of the stars in the life's work of Tolkien. The series was well loved, especially after the movies were released, which were filmed in New Zealand. Like many ozzy's, Desmond wasn't very fond of kiwis, but he did have to admit, their country was rather beautiful. Tangent aside, Des couldn't help but wonder if this was all some kind of joke. The sender did ask him to eat the message, after all. He knew the phone they issued him was a BlackBerry, but they couldn't expect him to actually eat it, could they? Unless it was a test of loyalty, but why would they bother? They all knew about the condition that made it impossible for him to lie. Hell, it was the primary reason they hired him to begin with! The only logical explanation was that someone else had sent the message. This phone was heavily encrypted and connected only to another device just like it, which belonged to his boss, who went by the alias Sheep. He wasn't a jokester himself, though he did hang around a man who rarely did anything but mock people. What was his place in the Agency, anyway? Aside from his codename, Doc12, Des suddenly realized he knew nothing about the man. That was dangerous. But of course, at his rank it wasn't his place to ask. What could he do? The way he saw it, he only had three options. Follow one order and hope the other was a joke, follow both and deal with the stomach ache that would surely come after, or follow neither and continue lounging on the beach with a martini in hand. Torn, Desmond sipped his drink and continued to stare off to where the sky met the sea upon the horizon. There was no time limit to this mission, it seemed, so if he took a little time off, he supposed no one would care too much...

No worries! Take your time. There's still a few days before the game begins (and perhaps a little more, as I may delay the game's beginning depending on how many people are ready + how far the AG3 has progressed by then). And for the record, I don't think I'm very good at writing or roleplaying either, and that's the wonderful thing about participating in games like this, as the more you do it, the better you get. Also, just as a reminder (and in case some of you didn't fully read or comprehend the rules), @Conquestor, @Shqueeves, @Manukos, @Drake Marshall, @Darkness Ascendant, @Ecthelion III, I'll need that 200 word (or longer if you'd like) character introduction in order to officially add you to the player list

Introductions go before C1. It's a requirement for signing up

Huh, that's really weird. I see you've already created a thread in tech support. Hopefully the problem gets resolved by this time next week. If not, attached word documents are fine with me. A moderator could probably even edit the contents into your posts, if necessarily (I think). I would just hate for you to miss out on a game due to technical difficulties. Thank you kind sir People seem to be busy lately, so I don't think this game will be overflowing xD I look forward to reading it. Personally I want to become a Windrunner so I can fly Thanks again. It's got significance in my own book series I'm working on. I do find it interesting how similar Kaladin's symbol is to Allomantic symbols in general. Likely a coincidence, but I did always wonder why that half-circle was there. Besides, those spears do look particularly... spiky. Don't mind? Heck, I'd love to have you Quiver best of luck at work. Can't wait to see what you cook up

Thanks Jon I spent a whole week reading all of the Kaladin and Dalinar chapters in WoR to prepare me to write it, then most of last Sunday fleshing it out. I'm glad you enjoyed it, and I hope people continue to enjoy my write ups this game. I plan to put a lot of effort into these little stories, and will even try my best to roleplay with the players throughout the course of the game, using various characters from the books, some originals like Lomot, and even a few monsters, here and then . I look forward to reading your character intro as well. Always enjoy reading your RP! With the current start date, I don't think any other game will end before this one begins. However, I am willing to push the start back, if necessary, as the last thing I want to do is divide people's attention between AG3 and this, especially since this game in particular requires activity to remain balanced. My hope is that people will understand that and push themselves a little harder than usual, but of course not too much that they make sacrifices in others parts of their life. I'll add you to the playerlist as soon as you roleplay a character's introduction, as required can't wait to read it. Willifer sounds like he'll be a very interesting addition. Good too have you, since the Assassin in White managed to kill old Highprince Roion, and Sadeas killed by only-Culty-knows-who. Someones got to manage their responsibilities after all... right? No worries! Take your time. There's a reason why we give people a week to sign up at least, and why I posted this a teensy bit early anyway. I can't wait to read what you have in store. Not at all! The more words the merrier, I always say I look forward to seeing it! More RP is always better than less. Just remember to send me a PM title "LG30 Assassin in Burgundy", and put inside it what crimes your character may have committed in the past. They don't necessarily need to be a secret to the players, since the Unjust will have to research player's to find out their crimes IC regardless, but it's still an important aspect of the game, and will add some unique flavor to the write ups, if I manage to do them right. This goes for everyone else too I'll put your name on the character list as soon as I see the requisite RP and the PM. Thanks all <3

Of course any and all are welcome! Just make sure you read the official Sanderson Elimination General Rules & Etiquette Policy first, and if you have any questions on what's discussed there, or any of the rules regarding this game in particular, ask them here and myself or one of our many wonderful players will help you out. On that note... @randuir, you still keen to play?

INITIATES Amanuensis as Lomot 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 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 AliasSheep as Ashetvl The lazy anarchist as Lyna Telavalet Alvron as Naihar DroughtBringer as Petrik Darkness Ascendant as The Phantom Stranger & Hashiv Elbereth as Tintallë CONTENTS Prologue: The First Ideal Chapter One: A Radiant Night Chapter Two: Desperate For Answers Chapter Three: As Big As A Greatshell Chapter Four: Voidbringers Chapter Five: A Moment of Respite Chapter Six: Not Again Chapter Seven: The Battle of Rysharock Chapter Eight: The Everstorm Returns Chapter Nine: Unmade Chapter Ten: Aftermath QUESTIONS When does the game begin, and when does turn over happen? For now the game is planned to begin on February 1st at 2200 EST, and new Chapters will begin every three days following it's start date, at the exact same time. Note that the previous Chapter will be closed 2 hours prior to the new Chapter's posting. If necessary, I am willing to move the start date forward, but not back, in order to nurture maximum participation of players interested. Update: Sign ups have been extended an extra 3 days, and may need to be extended again, depending on numbers. Update Deux: A change in turn over time has been decided upon to further convenience the GMs, which consequently will extend the sign ups by ten hours. The new countdown timer can be seen below. COUNTDOWN