Arraenae

The letter came in the mail, in a small white envelope that belied its importance. Rhea picked it up and read it. A moment later, her eyes widened. "Uncle!" she called. "Uncle, come here! You won't believe this." "Describe it," Uncle Dayson hollered from upstairs. "I'm fixing the roof, can't come down." "It's an invitation to Fadrex city from Lord Tekiel," Rhea said. Something clattered onto the ceiling. A moment later, Uncle thundered down the stairs. He grabbed the letter and scanned it. "Can't make it. Have to meet with Lady Priss in Luthadel," Uncle said. "But this is important," Rhea said. "It's from Lord Tekiel! You know what turning this down would do to House Aurette. Can't you cancel your meeting or reschedule it for another time?" Uncle shook his head. "Priss's wedding is in two weeks and she's already screaming for me to finish her dress. Wants her current one completely remade. If I delay, she'll tear my head off." "Oh," Rhea said. She drooped. Uncle always placed the client's wants over everything else, even over his own health at times. He said that House Aurette had a reputation to maintain, but Rhea suspected that he just didn't know how to have a balanced workload. "I could go," Rhea said. "You don't need me here, and probably would be faster without me getting in the way all the time." "No," Uncle said. "I'm not sending you into court alone with those bloodsuckers." "Come on," Rhea said. "It's an invitation from the Tekiels. Someone has to go. We might be able to get some more clients that way. Maybe Lord Tekiel wants a new suit or something." She looked at Uncle pleadingly. "No," he said with a sigh. "You'll be eaten alive." Rhea thought of what had happened in Urteaux last year and winced. "It'll be better than last time, I promise. I need to learn sometime." "Fine," he said. "Go, but come back the moment you screw up." "Thank you Uncle!" Rhea said. She threw her arms around him in a hug. "I'll write a response as soon as I can."

Awww, thanks for the Honorable mention, Meta. I started planning Nicki with Doc about a week before signups opened.

Sign me up as Rhea, a cheerful girl who's being trained to run her House one day. She's curious about the Church of the Survivor and admires the faith of the people in it, but isn't sure if she could ever be like them.

I really, really want to read that.

Hi. Can't talk now. Maybe -- BOOM!

Finally, a game where people don't die by the masses!

I don't think partnerclaiming would be a good idea. I see no reason for it. Besides, if the elims decide that they want to kill a Day player for being too on-point, they would have to know their Night partner to kill them. Keeping Day/Night pairs secret seems like a good idea.

I think Bart is most likely to be a newbie who did some awkward communicating, as Manukos and Randuir said. Also, maybe Wyrm decided that giving Aman less time to talk could balance him. They could still be elims, but Bart's partnerclaim wouldn't be evidence either way. Len, how are we going to handle RP? I know it's a small issue, but it's really bothering me. Should we post long chunks in each of our turns? I PM every Night player with character details for Neiha and you write up everything?

I PMed Aman. He says that he's going to post everything as RP and that Bart is his partner. Hopefully can post more before rollover. Will get to a list, hopefully.

Yes! I can talk now. Finally! Amanuensis, if Bart is really your partner, time to talk about whatever he promised you would say.

And thus Wyrm groans at the prospect at balancing two last-minute signups.

Neiha nodded, only half paying attention. As Brandir leaned in, she mentally sized him up. He was one of the better-looking boys in town, and had excellent connections. Still, one of his eyes looked weird. Rumor had it that his eye was permanently disfigured from spending too much time stalking girls with his telescope. Neiha had no idea if it was true or not, but it made excellent gossip. On the other hand, his uncle was a powerful man, which was far more important than how Brandir looked. For now, Brandir was being far too forward. He assume an intimacy that just didn't exist yet. If Brandir wanted to date Neiha (really, there was no other way to interpret his invitation to dinner), she'd make him work for it. Neiha stepped away from Brandir, as if embarrassed. "See you later," she said. "I've gotta go somewhere now."

"The Highprince is my uncle, so it's excellent to see another person of status in our most. I have to say that there are some rather strange characters lurking around these establishments."--he glanced at HARVEY and Thorot, the latter of whom was still picking his teeth with a dagger--"Would you be so kind as to join me for dinner tonight at my uncle's residence? It's not far, and I'll sure the company would be more to your taste." "I'd love to," Neiha said. She smiled at Brandir. "What time should I arrive?"

Neiha walked along the streets, surveying the world around her. At this time of day, the streets were mostly empty. Still, she spotted a few stragglers, walking around. Normally they were people that she wouldn't talk to, but she was in a magnanimous mood today. She walked up to one person. "Hi there! How are you doing today?" she asked. Neiha is officially open for socializing! The first to reply will define the pecking order of this town.

Maybe because Preservation is opposed to Ruin, the Preservation keeping Kelsier from going to the Beyond made Kelsier automatically saw Ruin as something horrible?

Neiha Solam tilted the mirror up to her face and inspected it. Inside a house, Neiha Solam stood in front of a mirror. A pile of makeup brushes, sponges, moisturizers, and palettes littered the table beside her. Neiha tilted the mirror up to her face and inspected it. She was almost 17, but looked younger, which she often used to her advantage. She squeezed out a little bit of primer onto her hand and dabbed it onto her face. Once she had smoothed it evenly, she reached for her makeup brush and applied foundation to the center of her face. Afterwards, she took a sponge to blend the foundation outwards. Neiha picked up the concealer, then hesitated. She ran through her mental plan for today. No heavy socializing, so she didn’t need too much makeup. Besides, today she wanted to go for a natural look. She set the concealer down on the table. She still needed to do something about her eyes. Neiha’s eyes naturally didn’t stand out from her face, which was a total bummer. People with eyes like hers suffered socially, unless they were smart like Neiha was and augmented them a little. Ever since discovering that trick five years ago, people had been much friendlier. Neiha took an eyeshadow brush, dipped it in pigment, and smoothed copper eyeshadow on top of her right eyelashes. She took another brush and applied a darker layer of bronze on top of it. Next, she used eyeliner to mark out the tip of her wings. She picked up a third brush to fill in that wing with a smoky brown. She blinked a few times and inspected her right eye in the mirror. This look had been her first, and was still her favorite. She repeated the entire process for her left eye. A few minutes later, Neiha was done. She batted her eyes in the mirror twice and blew a kiss. Then she smiled. She took a few steps backwards and looked over her outfit. She wore a lavender havah, with a loose, draping sleeve over her left arm. The entire dress was covered with a flowery design. Neiha posed and nodded, satisfied. This look would do for today. Neiha stepped away from the mirror and exited the house. Her face was perfect, her outfit was cute, and her chin was lifted high with confidence. She was ready to be judged by the eyes of the world. Sign me up as Neiha, a social butterfly. Wyrm, what's the name of this town?

It probably would help a lot.

I think it also becomes too much when it's hard to keep track of everything. When I finished TFE, I couldn't match up each metal to what it did, but I knew what Vin could and couldn't do with them. Later I ended up memorizing them all. Now I know some of the Feruchemical metals, but not all. That's 32 different powers, about 20 which I have memorized over a span of 6 books. I don't know if, as a reader, I could remember more than 26 of them in a single book.

My stolen dragon doesn't like me.

*Hugs DA.

I vote Scar for the CR challenge. I really liked the way that she stayed in-character through the entire game.

Congrats, Spiked. The Curse remains unbroken for another year.

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 approving and Ralaanar giggled again. Tears streamed down Ralaanar's cheeks as he faced his pet axehound, Blackthorn. "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 Blackthorn -- if he couldn't see his pet axehound that he'd had for years and years and years -- so he wouldn't have to face the guilt of killing Blackthorn -- "No," Ralaanar said. "I, um, I won't." Father backhanded Ralaanar, who flew backwards, onto the grass. For some reason, the grass didn't retreat. Instead, it grew around Ralaanar and formed a protective cocoon. Somehow, though, this cocoon felt warm. Almost a bit hot, like there was a small fire outside of it. Ralaanar shifted as Sareth placed the cloak over him. He grunted, then went back to sleep.

Ralaanar staggered into the Pub Seb, shivering. His clothes were completely soaked, and even more torn than before. He clutched his dress to his chest, but had to drag it up every few minutes. Shinon's cloak still offered some semblance of covering, but it was ice cold with floodwater. Beside him, Rissa was off in the corner cursing Captain Kaladin with every insult that Ralaanar knew and many that he didn't. Ralaanar listened in for a few moments, then tuned it out. At least the pub was warm, a pleasant change from the outside. Ralaanar spotted a table near a fire and made his way towards it. He sat down, near two men talking. Their voices provided a comforting backdrop, not quite a lullaby, but close. Despite the heat, Ralaanar still felt cold. He rubbed his arms and tried to think of what to do. He was so cold... Ralaanar scooted closer to the fire. Maybe if he dried his cloak...He took it off and tossed it in the direction of the fire. Then he rested his head against the table and closed his eyes. A few moments later, he was snoring gently through the hubbub of the bar. Meanwhile, Shinon's cloak caught on fire. Fire! Fire in the bar! Someone mind rescuing Ralaanar from the fire he accidentally set?

I have been sticking more to roleplay, but if you actually read it, I am expressing opinions about the game through Rissa and Ralaanar. Just because the game discussion might be in bold or expressed as a conversation between two people doesn't mean it doesn't exist. If you look closely, you may even notice a few votes sprinkled throughout my posts.