DrakeMarshall

No, I'm not implying no-lynch. No-lynch isn't the best strategy to minimize casualties, because elimination is a game that features evil roles. In the interest of long-term avoidance of casualties, it makes perfect sense to lynch an evil, or even a suspected evil, if the suspicion is reasonably well-founded.

Stormfather. On average, it looks like a given Alethi is able to survive nearly as many attacks as one of the Parshendi is, in addition to the advantage of numbers. In principle, this seems like a reasonable proposition. But I think we may want to prioritize minimizing casualties to either side. I suspect that if the Alethi and Parshendi take an equal number of kills-per-cycle, the Parshendi are going to die off much sooner than the Alethi.

Granted. Nothing happens. You might as well have not visited the nightwatcher this time. I wish to know the meaning of life, the universe, and everything.

Well, here we have another D1 vote. D1 lynches are annoying. In any case, I'm rather interested in what the lottery item might do. It is called a "somatic mark" and somatic is defined as "relating to the body, especially as distinct from the mind." So, chances are, this mark is supposed to change something in the physical realm. Where a typical soulstamp presumably changes the cognitive and/or spiritual aspects, this mark is supposed to change something physical. Maybe it's a protective power? Like giving you an extra life or something?

I have no idea how I survived, truth be told. And before you even draw conclusions, consider that if I were a Voidbringer, I would be in smokeform right now. Any other choice would be unwise. I am curious to hear who protected me, however. As it is, I can ascertain that Elbereth is indeed unaligned, despite siding heavily with the Sons of Honor. If I had actually expected to survive this cycle I would have tried a little harder to think of a good scanning target. And finally, BrightnessRadiant. We ought to get that over with.

I did in the past offer to scan Parshendi, so I don't think that this idea is out of the question. But I hope you don't take undue offense when I say I would never negotiate such a deal with you. You already vocally aligned with the Sons of Honor.

I'll just scan myself and then we can learn my alignment

Hullo. Recommendation #1: Read the Way of Kings when you have time. It is one of the best books ever written. Recommendation #2: Accept the cookie. Not only is it delicious but it will give you superpowers. Only boring people read the fine print.

"Always being on time implies you have nothing better you should be doing."

Granted. You now live in the Sahara desert, where it might as well be Summer year-round. I wish for something that the nightwatcher doesn't want to give me.

Always remember that everything and everyone can be spiked. Some things are just more difficult, however, hence why hemalurgic research is a thing. Some spikes need to be placed in exactly the right location, and if you don't have atium, you additionally need to discern exactly the right alloy of spike to use. Trial and error is a time-tested way to learn hemalurgy, although it burns through a lot of test subjects. You can speed up the trial and error process by gaining connection to the shard of Ruin, as this gives you some degree of intuition about how to use spikes. Some experimentation will still be necessary, but it lets you allocate test subjects more efficiently.

Hmmmm... Can I get any hints about how much you guys are bidding? I want to know if I have any shot at getting it.

3 - Remembrance The transition was shockingly fast, and surprisingly quite painless. Suddenly, Requiem was looking down on himself. He watched with horrified fascination as his body disintegrated, totally consumed by the withering. And yet, he was still there. Standing over the remnant of his own corpse, wondering how he had died. Everything around him save the remnants of his own body seemed to be out of focus, blurring and shifting constantly, the details arranging and rearranging themselves before his eyes. Underfoot, the formerly solid forest floor seemed to depress slightly as he stood upon it, suddenly less solid. A low, melodious hum hung in the air, something like the fading end of a deep bell chime; only it never actually faded or wavered. A charcoal grey fog pervaded his surroundings, flowing slowly in tiny motes around trees and other, smaller things that could have been insects. The fog seemed to react strangely to his presence, moving more quickly around him. Far overhead, he saw a cold, distant sun shining down, it's rays struggling to pierce through the fog. Was this what it was like to become a shade? He examined himself. He looked like a shade, certainly, if perhaps more substantial. Perhaps all shades appeared more substantial in this place. More importantly, shades weren't supposed to be able to think. The dead passed on to the God Beyond; the shades were just echoes of what used to be there. Imprints on the world after the soul had departed. He didn't feel very much like an echo. He noticed that the presence that had precipitated all this was still very much present in the clearing. Perhaps less insistent, but Requiem could feel it pressing lightly at the back of his mind. Tentatively, Requiem retraced his path to the clearing. If he could find people, and try to explain to them what had happened... This was insane. Nobody had ever heard of a shade trying to communicate. The shades were mindless, and usuallly harmless, until you broke on of their rules... 4 - Rebirth As the hooded figure started talking, Requiem was shaken from his reverie. He wasn't on Threnody... It had been a long time since he had visited Threnody. He was in the shade-world, assembled with several others in a circle around a green fire. The green fire, was, of coarse, Devotion's shardpool. It was one of the most conveniently accessible shardpools in all the cosmere; Requiem had used it several times before. Without hesitation, he stepped into the green fire, his shade becoming one with the column of otherworldly flames. The power in the shardpool was awesome. Requiem could scarcely comprehend it, even though he had done this many times before. This was how it always was. Life following death following life, an endless parade of reincarnations from the shardpools. It was the deep-spirit's curse, but it was also the deep-spirit's blessing. Requiem's plans were far to grand to accommodate only a single life. From the raw power of creation, Requiem knit himself a new body, forming the flesh around the shade underneath. As always, the power of the shardpool was eager to create something, anything. The planet itself shaped the form Requiem took on. After centuries, the planet of Sel knew what it was to be a human, and the different types of human that were native to Sel, and the deep-spirit used this knowledge to choose a form for Requiem. For a moment, Requiem saw nothing, heard nothing, inhabiting the void between realms. Then he breathed for the first time in days, surfacing from the waters of Devotion's shardpool. Rebirth complete. This was his sixteenth life. An auspicious number. He examined himself. It was hard to tell without a mirror, but he thought he was Aonic this time. He tried to impress a feeling of appreciation upon the deep-spirit. It was a reasonable choice of forms; he would blend in with the indigenous peoples of Arelon. The other shades were following close behind. They couldn't use the shardpools quite in the same way that Requiem could, but the essence marks would make it much easier for them. Combined with a perpendicularity, it was a rather clever trick to bring shades back from the dead. The hooded man spoke, from the cognitive realm: Behold: Elantris, the city of the gods. Interesting trick, that. Speaking from the shade-world was hard. Especially if you were trying to talk to sane people, although Requiem doubted there were any of those here. You must make haste down the mountain. Find your way to Kae, the eastern town. You will find someone there who can help... unless we are too late. Wyrn's wrath has been unleashed. Stop the Dakhor, and save this planet! Requiem stared right at the hooded man's shade, then nodded in acknowledgement. If the hooded man spoke the truth, that meant Requiem had traveled backwards in time since his last death. That happened sometimes. He still wasn't sure what caused it. The Atad mountains certainly afforded an excellent view. Requiem scanned his surroundings. Elantris was besieged and burning, as the hooded man had warned. That decided it, then. To Kae he would go. Word Count: Most definitely more than 200.

Well. I've been preoccupied for the last few hours, but now I can post this RP. And then I'll have time to give LG36 a good proper look. Kyner watched as they put Ramaan to death. In truth, the death was his responsibility. He had negotiated it as a sign of peace. Pity the suspicions against Ramaan had amounted to nothing. The box was kicked out from under Ramaan, and he feel into the grasps of the noose with an audible snap. Ramaan's shade appeared next to the body immediately thereafter, looking disoriented. Kyner waved to him apologetically, and then the shade was sucked away into the beyond. This was going to be a difficult day, he thought, as he walked slowly and deliberately back to the Parshendi section of the camp, lagging behind the main group. There was much to consider. It was only by failing to look where he was going that Kyner survived. Deep in thought, he tripped on a rockbud, sprawling forward. At that moment, the shadow of something big and vaguely weapon-shaped passed over him. Kyner heard cursing as he rolled on his back. An Alethi stood above him, wielding an enormous shardblade that was truly awesome to behold. It was improbably large, wickedly serrated, and painted a solid green, and cast a blinding reflection from the sun. The assailant wore a mask that did an irritatingly good job of obscuring their identity. The shardbearer brought down their blade over Kyner with a speed that didn't seem to agree with the size of the blade, ready to finish him off. It still amazed Kyner that people on Roshar were so willing to draw blood. Even in broad daylight, blood could be a death sentence. Kyner grabbed for something, anything to stop the incoming blade. All he could muster was a metal ink nib. A very rare and very useful scholarly tool (people on Roshar typically used those horrid reeds to write with instead of a proper ink pen), but still laughably ineffective against a shardblade. Usually, anyway. In a split second, Kyner examined the pen. Worked from pure iron, non-alloyed. Recently crafted by the Unkalaki. Free of rust of any kind. Light compact, and thus inexpensive to reshape. The pen would suffice. He thrust the pen overhead between himself and the shardblade, holding it with both hands to brace for the impact. Then he desperately reshaped the substance of the pen, using what he had designated to be the first alteration. The reshaping consumed about half of his remaining reserve (a somewhat troubling detail, for Kyner had yet to find a way to replenish it). As the blade hurtled towards Kyner, the pen changed in his hands, taking on a mirror-like sheen and a slight iridescence. More importantly, it grew approximately seventy times more durable and more brittle than regular iron. The shardblade struck the pen and rebounded with a melodic gong, spreading a web of tiny cracks across the surface of the pen. The shardbearer looked down on Kyner incredulously. Kyner did not hesitate to take the moment of surprise to plant his heel firmly in his assailant's gut. Even in scholarform, a Parshendi could deliver a powerful blow, by human standards at least. Then Kyner ran for all he was worth. Another swish of that blade would end of him. Better report this to Eshonai. It only goes to show... The pen is mightier than the sword.

Hmmm. Well I know I can't really expect you to speak on behalf of the entire Alethi, but I'll take it. BrightnessRadiant. Jondesu. Needless to say, if you don't intend to honor this, you'd better make sure you kill me by the end of the cycle...

Well, I'm back. And... Mostly lucid, anyway. Also my post just got totally deleted. Anyways. There are two things I would very much like to respond to: First of all, "Are you seriously unwilling to lynch a Ghostblood?" In the post you quoted, you may have noticed I didn't cast a vote either way. I was thinking. So I don't know how you draw that conclusion. Second, I'm definitely not the only Parshendi with no extra life. Third, you seem to be assuming that we are going to constantly lynch random Alethi, and that the Parshendi shardbearer is going to indescriminately kill Alethi without searching for Sons of Honor. Neither of those assumptions are likely to be true, if I have anything at all to say about it. Fourth, you are quite right that I'm not the last scanner. There will be a fair number of scholarforms that come after me. But I hope I don't flatter myself too much when I say that my survive would probably help the outcome of this game (there is a reason why somebody wanted me dead, after all ). Fifth, why wouldn't every faction ignore him like last time? The Alethi shardblader appears to be very eager to ignore Jondesu, to maneuver us into wasting too lynches. And while I have requested the Parshendi shardblader to target Jondesu, I also wouldn't blame them at all if they targeted a Son of Honor instead. Because we know for a fact that the Alethi shardblader isn't going to be similarly inhibited in any way, so how could I blame our shardblader for refusing to give up a kill, if yours is never going to? Really, it boils down to this. The Parshendi now have a shardblade. And the Alethi now feel more threatened by this. Well, that's totally understandable. We are undeniably more dangerous now. But, frankly, if we can't move forward with negotiations the moment the Alethi lose massive superiority over the Parshendi, then I have to wonder if there is any real trust here. Now this post is quite interesting. I have to say that it was an impressive attempt. However: First of all, I am a Ghostblood? That argument has quite the expiration date, because I'll be dead soon. It will be quite clear that I'm not a Ghostblood at that point. Second, two Parshendi Ghostbloods would be unbalanced imo. It would mean that 5/8 of the Parshendi were in secret factions, and that the Parshendi effectively only actually had 6 members, which would be even worse than 7. Third, you claim highprincess. This is interesting, because I happen to know the identity of a different person with that role. The problem is, this role has a protect+kill power and an extra life. That's a very powerful role. I'm really quite skeptical that there are two of them in the game. Highprincess is a credible explanation for why you survived an attack, but I'm not sure I buy it. More importantly, even if I did buy it, you are still a Son of Honor with an extremely dangerous role, and I hope you forgive me if I say that I want you dead rather soon. Fourth, if you wanted to protect Parshendi and Alethi alike, why haven't you protected any Parshendi? You made a sort of vague offer to side with the peace in a PM to me, and jumped on the HH bandwagon (boldly acting as if you had planned to do it all along, for that I have to say very well done; nobody expects a lie quite so brazen as that). But you never actually did anything conducive to peace. With the exception of the HH compromise, you consistently voted in a way that directly benefited the Sons of Honor, and until last cycle your posts reflected a pro-Sons of Honor sentiment. Fifth, I know you kind of want to lynch me But unless you wanted to stop denying your identity as a Son of Honor, you are going to leave me alive, because my death only proves that I was telling the truth about these investigation results. Hmmmm. That sounds like quite a delightful conundrum. Depending on how much you actually care about your cover, it might even save my hide. Sixth, if I were a Ghostblood, wouldn't this pretty badly blow my cover, if I did succeed in getting you lynched? Anyways... I think we need to move forward from all this. The issue is really quite simple. We have two people who we want dead, but we probably won't be able to kill both of them. So I have a proposal to make. Or perhaps we could call it another compromise. Because I think this arrangement would be mutually profitable. Namely. We will all agree to lynch Jondesu. In return, you will lynch a suspected Son of Honor next cycle. It could be Brightness, or it could be someone else, if one of the scholarforms end up unveiling another Son of Honor. I fully understand why you want Jondesu dead. But if we cannot agree to lynch a confirmed Son of Honor at least the cycle after we lynch Jondesu, then I really have to assume that you are aiming for the Son of Honor win and not an unaligned win.

I probably won't be able to do much the rest of the cycle, but BR Here's hoping she has a blade I don't really like leaving Jondesu alive though. I feel like we are being maneuvred into being forced to use up two lynches on him... @parshendi shardblader, I would encourage you to seriously consider hitting Jondesu this cycle. That would help tie up a loose end. Also I think I officially trust Yitzi to not be a son

Well. This game looks interesting. Given how much we are in the dark about this game, it's hard to muster any proper discussion. Although of coarse I will try to do so, because gold sounds nice. I am curious to see what sort of things will go up for auction. So... According to the portion of order-of-actions that isn't redacted... Well, most of the powers it implies exist are pretty standard. I wonder what all those REDACTED fields are... Interestingly enough one of those REDACTED night actions looks like it is immune to roleblock. Also, is it just me or does the writeup imply two secret roles? Anyways. I'm much more interested in RPing this cycle than discussing, seeing as weasically don't have anything to discuss. 1 - Sunset Requiem stood alongside the other shades, staring into the green fire in the center of the island. It had been quite some time since he had entered the shade-world. Ever since Silverlight, there had been so much to do in the physical realm... And the shade-world was a place of remembering. Sometimes, Requiem didn't want to remember. Not that his desires had ever been important. 2 - Threnody Hell was freezing over. Tiny crystals of frost formed along the boughs of trees and along the ground. The air cooled rapidly, and Requiem's exhaled breath turned to wisps of fog. The night sky overhead seemed to darken, the stars growing dimmer until suddenly extinguished, smothered behind a curtain of shadows. Sound, too, seemed to be smothered. The usual sounds of life in the forests were absent, and an unnatural quiet hung in the air in their stead. But Requiem processed none of this. It was all eclipsed by the presence. Something, unseen, unheard, indescribable, but still completely there. Like the creeping feeling of being watched, multiplied a hundredfold or a thousandfold. It wasn't intelligent, nor was it exactly not intelligent. It was more like a force, or perhaps like the shades. The presence was of the same substance as the forests themselves. It was like nothing he had ever seen before, and yet it was still somehow deeply familiar. And it was drawn to him. It was a tiny fragment of something vast and powerful, but it was damaged. To fix itself, it required something from him. That was when he died for the first time.

Wow. A lot of things happened this cycle. And I have a lot to say: First, HH was innocent. That truly sucks. Whatever you might say about me being Parshendi, I want to make it quite clear that I do take lynching an unaligned Alethi very seriously. I was pretty sure he was a Ghostblood. Second. Jondesu didn't get shardbladed. Instead, I did. Isn't that interesting? Part of why I requested that we let the shardblader hit Jondesu is so that they wouldn't decide to go target another innocent Parshendi. The fact that the shardblader attacked me instead pretty much proves that this shardblader is a Son of Honor. Unsurprising. Third, this presents something of a conundrum, because Jondesu is still alive. That's not good. At all. (And don't blame that on me for preventing Jondesu from dying, because the Alethi shardblader also failed to attack Jondesu in favor of attacking me instead.) Fourth, the decayforms seem to have killed two unaligned investigative abilities. That makes life difficult, because unaligned scanners are a great tool for making peace. I'm still committed to peace (it's not really as if I have a choice, seeing as the Voidbringers might as well be out for the count), but it just got a bit harder. Fifth, I scanned BrightnessRadiant last cycle, and learned that she is a Son of Honor. Sixth, I'm probably going to die by a Son of Honor shardblade next cycle, unless somebody kind decides to protect me. So, that's the rundown. I need time to think. And I'm getting my wisdom teeth out tomorrow so I may not be able to do very much for a large chunk of this cycle.

No wish? You walk dangerous grounds. The customary protocol in this case is to assign you two banes. Bane number one is that whenever you open a door you have to wait five full seconds before entering, or suffer a horrible and painful death. Bane number two is that control of your left and right hands are switched. You'll get used to it eventually, but good luck in the meantime... I wish for a complete catalogue of the spren of Roshar.

Kyner watched with an expression of awe as they dragged away Plato. The Parshendi gods... That was truly fascinating. Surely worthy of study. On the other hand, the rhythms associated the forms of power with the Voidbringers, so maybe not worthy of study after all. Voidbringers were supposed to be one of Roshar's children's tales... But then, tales like that had a disturbing tendency to have some truth in them. Particularly the less pleasant ones. Perhaps that justified the deep-spirit's reaction. It was hard to tell. The deep-spirit wasn't really properly good or evil... It was something less sophisticated than that. In any case, this would probably be hard to explain to the Alethi why a Parshendi was dabbling in ancient forbidden Voidbringer magics. If it was any consolation, the Alethi looked to have some explaining to do as well, given just how eager some of their people were to draw blood. There would be peace, however. The camp had its share of level-headed individuals, of both races. With enough people working at it, peace would be inevitable. There were many meetings to be had and compromises to be made.

Kyner watched as Eshonai brought Plato before the assembled delegation. Something was very, very wrong. Plato had changed. He still had carapace, but it looked bulkier than that of warform. Rather than the red and black pattern most Parshendi wore, it was a uniform red. The exact same sickly shade as rotspren. His skin had a strange sheen on it, as if oozing some strange substance. As Plato was lead past a solitary rockbud clinging to the top of the plains, it just died in front of him. The most striking part was his eyes, which were glowing red. The deep-spirit reacted violently to the sight. Whatever Plato had turned into, Kyner could feel that the deep-spirit hated it. It yearned to destroy the thing that Plato had become, bombarding Kyner with mental images of different deaths to visit on Plato, but more importantly to hurt the thing inside of Plato. Although it could not think (or at least not in the way one conventionally defines thinking), it grasped for a plan. Before Kyner could do anything or make sense of what had just happened, Eshonai summoned her blade and brought it down over Plato's carapaced skull. His ominously glowing red eyes were burned out like the eyes of any living thing, and he died. Kyner saw Plato's shade emerge standing over the body, looking confused. Although it was hard to tell, Kyner thought the shade was in warform. Whatever had taken control of Plato had deserted him in death. And then, Plato's shade passed into the beyond, vanishing. All that remained was a barely visible echo, and even that would fade away in a few days. And yet, Plato had taken a new form. There was only one that could possibly fit: Decayform destroys the souls of dreams. A form of gods, to avoid it seems. Seek not its touch, nor beckon its screams, deny it. Watch where you walk, your toes to tread. O'er hill or rocky riverbed Hold dear to fears that fill your head, defy it. This form wasn't supposed to be real. It was a form of the Parshendi gods. And yet Plato had worn it.

Well, we lynched the convict. Not much to be said I guess. In some way I'm not sure I approve of using a lynch on someone we know definitely isn't evil... But there are definitely worse things than giving the neutrals all their win conditions. Better that they get their wins from the village than be forced to cut a deal with the elims I suppose.

Granted. You just did. As your bane, you forget that you just came up with a wish and made the above post, and feel the compulsion to return to the nightwatcher and make another wish. I wish for an elephant. What could possibly go wrong with that.

I believe that there's a WoB out there that says Szeth was never actually truly "bound" to the honorblade. And Nale might be using his original Honorblade, but it is possible he is in the same position as Szeth. I believe the only way to properly bind to an Honorblade is to actually swear yourself to the Oathpact, and Nale broke the Oathpact. But I believe that it isn't impossible that, in the future, that a character in possession of an Honorblade might conceivably swear themselves into the Oathpact, properly binding to the Honorblade, and becoming a herald.