Quadrophenia

Oooph. Them's the breaks, kid.

So I'm guessing you were never given the position willingly again?

Like giving the keys to a jumbo jet to... literally anyone XD

Pffft! So, was that intentional, did all that power go to your head or was that all just an honest mistake? XD

I'd save Gallade for Adolin, personally. Oh! And Aegislash is Nightblood. Vasher would be a Psychic type Pokemon...

Immortal trickster, takes on multiple forms, for all intents and purposes he's basically a god (even if he isn't, he's implied to have mastered almost every magic system in the Cosmere, so already he should be more powerful than baseline Vin, Kaladin, Raoden or Vasher)... And while kiiind of a jerk, his real purpose in the story is to inspire some grand lesson unto the protagonist du jour.

You sound like you make a great DM, Claincy! I'd be honoured to join one of your games, personally speaking. Oooh, have you checked out the stories I've posted in this thread?

By the way, so I'm playing a new run in Pokemon X... And one thing I love doing? All my teams, in any Pokemon game, share a neat naming theme. For instance, in one game I assembled the girliest Pokemon I could find and name them after Disney Princesses (Gardevoir is Aurora, Miltoic is Ariel, etc), but for this run? Cosmere heroes. Blastoise - Wax Braviary - Kaladin Delphox - Raoden Golurk - Dalinar Question- What Pokemon would better fit Vin? Umbreon or Bisharp?

To respond to each... 1) Heh heh, in hindsight, why would the Engineer join the away team? 2) Oh god, sounds like a camping trip gone horribly wrong. 3) (dies laughing from e sheer comedy of errors) 4) Hooooooly crap, one GM managing multiple parties in a single game? Good God, that must require incredible mental juggling just to keep the show balanced. And how did you find all the players for something so ambitious? Still, darn, that sounds like it was a blast...

Here's a challenge: take Cosmere/other Sanderson heroes and arrange them into Beacon teams, and whatever four you choose it has to spell out something cool. Go, go, go!

I WILL admit, not the kind of crazy RPG story I was expecting XD

You're wonderful!

Dear mother of God, if I could actually run Alloy of Law games on this site... or, at the very least, drum up people interested to play with me... Same with running an Era I Mistborn game, to boot. For that matter, any game, really. D&D 3.5, Pathfinder...

"For a Few Boxings More." "Fistful of Boxings." "Once Upon a Time in the Roughs." "The Wild Crew." "Have Spikes Will Travel." "The Outlaw Kelsier." "Dances with Koloss." "Vin Unchained." "High Ruin." "Red Canal." "3:10 to Elendel." "High Plains Inquisitor." "True Steel."

Oh God, you know what this means? Hoid is the Q of the Cosmere.

I love that Storm Trekkers is catching on.

Okay, here's a good one... The next story is more "awesome" than silly. After our Mistborn game, my friends and I graduated... to an Alloy of Law game, which is a real thing! It's a supplement to the Mistborn RPG. We traded our crooks for lawkeepers this time around. Instead of the Whispers, they became "The Steeldevils," a band of rough and tumble of Mettalic Arts-using gunslingers. The party had such colourful characters as a devil-may-care Steelrunner who wore steel knuckles as his steelminds for sped-up JoJo's Bizarre Adventure-style rapid punches- "ORAORAORAORAORAORAORA!" A gentle koloss-blooded Brute... a dandy Sparker dual-swordsman... But this story focuses on the two leaders of the Steeldevils, a Vash-expy Coinshot named "Raining Lead Zak" and a Twinborn named "Hunting Eyes" Kelsien Audiel. Cool nicknames, yeah? See, the other party members weren't available at the time and I had said to my two friends, "Hey, while we're waiting for them, let's do a neat little trial run of this game, see how this works with guns and stuff." "Yeah, that sounds good, what'd you have in mind?" Thus, it became the origin story for how the Steeldevils were founded. Zak was on the run from an outlaw gang, hunted through the wilderness of the Roughs. Bleeding from a bullet wound in his shoulder, bullets flying overhead, our hero triped down a hill. He stumbled, hit a few rocks, kicked up dirt and gravel- but at the bottom of the hill, in a wee clearing of woods, was a humble little cabin. Scrambling, Zak made a mad dash for it. He banged on the door-! Only to be answered with a hunting rifle barrel pressed against his forehead. Enter Kelsien, a hardy Hugh Glass-esque mountain man. A real bear of a fella, complete with a spectacular moustache and sideburns. Zak told him what was going on, that a posse of outlaws was trying to kill him as revenge for arresting their boss the other week, and Kelsien--being a Survivorist--couldn't help but want to protect a lawkeeper, so he allowed him in. ... Right when the outlaws showed up on his doorstep. What followed was a badass siege. It was the Alamo, but with two men versus two dozen hombres. (Insert Ennio Morricone music right... here) Raining Lead equipped himself with shotguns and pistols, while Hunting Eyes had a hunting rifle, a massive handcannon for a hunting pistol, and a big ol' serrated knife. Together, combined with their powers, they were evenly matched against the outlaws. Oh, and Kelsien's thing? His Feruchemical ability was as a Windwhisperer, so he'd play spotter for the wounded Zak while countering enemy snipers. His Allomantic ability? Well... At one point, a big burley koloss-blooded bruiser crashed through the wall from the back, wielding a massive wooden club in his hands to counter Zak's Steelpushing. The outlaws had been prepared. He backhanded Kelsien across the wall and survived a few direct shots from Zak's pistols before he kicked Zak so hard he dropped his guns. And before he could have turned Zak's head into pulp, Kelsien leapt at the koloss-blooded man's back and activated his Allomantic ability: Bendalloy. Yeah. He caught him in a speed bubble. So while that was happening, Zak picked up his guns and resumed the firefight, flaring his Steel to give his bullets more punch- One moment later, Kelsien was thrown out of his own speed bubble, but he had laid some serious damage on the koloss-blooded bruiser... via repeated stabs with the hunting knife. The bruiser was bloody and raw, but still standing, panting heavily with rage and adrenaline coursing through his veins... and Raining Lead whipped out his shotgun and shot him. Point blank. Repeatedly. The guy still wouldn't go down! He was a tough sumslontze, but at least he was staggered. The real final blow came, though, when Kelsien took a steel-tipped spear off the rack and jabbed it into the thug's side! ... Just as the bandits chucked dynamite into the cabin. Our heroes acted with surprising foresight. First, Zak used the last ounces of his Steelpushing to give his buckshot enough stopping power to send the koloss-blooded bruiser packing, punching him across the cabin and into the bundle of dynamite's path. Second, Kelsien tackled Zak out the wall while activating his speed bubble. As Kelsien's home became ground zero for guts and ash, the remaining bandits circled around... from two dozen there were only six left. They didn't catch any sign of the two... Until they dropped out of Kelsien's speed bubble. Zak had drank his last Steel vial while in the bubble. He might not have had any bullets left, but there were plenty of bullet cases and such to fling at the remaining bandits. For Kelsien's part, he just tackled the gang leader--who, understandably, wanted to run away at this point in sheer terror--and smacked his face against a rock for a good solid minute... until the man's nose was covered in pulpy red... Our two heroes breathed heavily, looking at the chaos strewn about them... then glanced to each other. They exchanged firm forearm grasps. "They call me Raining-Lead Zak." "And I Kelsien, Lawkeep." You couldn't ask for a manlier ending to this, right?

You know, your story perfectly encapsulates what I love about tabletop gaming: the capacity for hilarious, borderline farcical failure. Reactions become genuine, people scramble to correct their course of action, they have to deal with an avalanche of consequences... It really was! It's sort of a classic "all player characters act like Chaotic Neutral jerks" campaign, where they just stomp about thinking they're the center of the universe, get away with it long enough to justify the hype, and then reality makes the mother of all wake up calls.

Heh, sounds like you had a real adventure.

Well, while waiting for Bleeder, I'll just share one of mine... and I feel it appropriate that the first story to share on a Brandon Sanderson site should be from a Brandon Sanderson-licensed game. For those of you who've never played it, it should come as no surprise that the officially licensed Mistborn RPG posits all player characters are criminals or otherwise a "crew," instead of a party (complete nicknames). So, all the players in my game were criminals of one sort of other, complete with an awesome crew-name- The Whispers. Led by one of our players, who went by the nomme de plume of "Hush." The idea for Hush's character? He's a former Canton of Finance bureaucrat (and a Soother) who found himself in the middle of an early mid-life crisis (at the ripe old age of 34) that culminated with him staring into a ceiling one night in bed, after hearing more and more stories of the infamous Kelsier, and thinking to himself aloud, "Lord Ruler, what have I been doing with my life?" So, he promptly quit his job and proceeded to build a reputation for himself as a criminal mastermind who could pull off the greatest heists... all to match or even surpass his secret idol Kelsier. Unfortunately, for all of his pretences, he's... not nearly as clever or grandiose as he liked to believe. We ran his first real attempt at a con. Hush would convince an elderly Noble couple he was a representative for a powerful House in the Southern Dominance famous for its distilleries and monopolization on certain liquors, wines and brandies, responsible for some of the finest wine in the world. With his Soothing, it was a piece of cake, and that he had a perfect replica of perfect Southern Brandy (made entirely out of cheap stuff). A little Soothing and the cheap stuff tasted like the best thing in the world. The con here was supposed to be that the elderly couple would accept a ludicrous proposal to, well, purchase merchant ships that'd carry imports from the Southern Dominance to their docks and their docks only, thereby granting them a full 10-20% of the sales and distribution. Hush would take the money and bring it back to his "master" back south. At least, in theory. Now, astute readers among you might actually recognize this as a reference to a similar ploy from Scott Lynch's Lies of Locke Lamora. And you'd be right. Major inspiration for the campaign here. So cue the party getting together at night to break into the couple's manor, scaring the bejeesus out of them... and convincing them they weren't thieves, but Obligators on the track of a notorious criminal who poses as merchants suckering the nobility with this or that scam. That's right. Hush's plan was to pull a con within a con. Con-ception, if you will. Ba-tum-tsh. The plan? Do nothing. Just keep paying the "merchant's" fees until he's lulled into a false sense of security. A few in-game weeks passed... and while the husband of the pair was a pompous idiot, the wife was a little more shrewd. In fact, she had long clued that there was something fishy about this whole scenario, but she hid her suspicions from the Soother amazingly well. She played the part of a vapid former beauty queen quite well, often overtly and shamelessly flirting with Hush whenever they were in the same room (to the sniggering of the disguised crew and to his everlasting shame). Unfortunately, he didn't realize she was a Rioter. She might have been a little rusty, but you didn't grow up in the decadent court of Luthadel without learning some essential survival traits. Like sussing out a con. So she asked Hush to come to her study for a "night cap," wink wink. Swallowing his pride, and thinking he had already had this con in the bag, Hush followed her into her room... Only to be met by a smiling octogenarian in a flimsy nighty, stringing a bow and knocking an arrow aimed right at him. Yup. That was when Hush knew the game was up. They both dropped the act, they had a neat little "James Bond and Bond Villain" back-and-forth banter, all the while Hush's mind raced with possible strategies. The other members of the crew were downstairs and none of them would have been able to reach him in time if she let loose that arrow. They were already engaged in a battle of wills, between Soother and Rioter, flaring their metals as powerfully as they could. To his horror, they were evenly matched. ... The only thing that saved Hush from a pointy arrow through the neck? A bad roll on my part, but in-universe let's chalk it up to the old noblewoman overestimating her strength and skill with the bow and wildly missing her shot. As the arrow flitted overhead and bured itself in a fine tapestry, our anti-hero fished for the first weapon on his person, the knife he kept strapped to his ankle! ... And he too had an awful roll. The knife pathetically flung itself out the window. Con artist and target took the time to stare at one another, both equally embarassed at how fast this confrontation was descending into pure farce. Noblewoman: "... That was pathetic." Hush: "Yes. Yes it was." (beat) Hush: "AAAH!" (lunges himself at her) Yes, our anti-hero decided the next best course of action was to lunge at the eighty-something old woman. The worst part? Out of everyone on the crew, out of all the Whispers, Hush had the looooowest physical stats. Yes, our James Moriarity here could be physically stalemated by his grandmother, which was exactly what happened as he and the noblewoman wrestled on the floor, each trying to strangle or smack the other with a shoe. Funniest moment out of this whole thing? He managed to get on top (stop sniggering) and strangle the old woman with her own silk shawl, but all the while she was smacking him with a fancy heel. Repeatedly. In the eye. Hush: (through grit teeth) "Why!" (SMACK!) "Won't!" (SMACK!) "You!" (SMACK!) "DIE?!" (SMACK!) And finally, she was dead. The Whispers' fearless leader, the next criminal legend of the Scadrial underworld, nearly murdered in a physical brawl with a woman old enough to be his great-grandmother, had finally triumphed. He could breathe easy. It was at this point Octo, the crew's resident Thug and bruiser, burst through the door and saw what had happened. Octo: ... (sniggers) Hush: "Oh, shut up and help me carry this body." Hush relaid his plan to Octo; they'd carry the body to the docks in a cleverly disguised fish cart and dump its contents in the waters. It was the perfect plan. It couldn't possibly fail- It absolutely did. There was a short gasp at the door as the two men lifted the noblewoman's body at opposite ends. They turned their heads, just as a tray of teas dropped, scattered and shattered on the gorgeous burgandy rug- A young maid stared in abject horror at the scene, wide-eyed, hands to her mouth. Hush: (clears throat) ... "Madame, I can assure you with utmost sincerity, this is not what it looks like." ... And he failed a Soothing roll. So, yes, it was exactly as it looked like. The maid screamed at the top of her lungs and alerted every House Guard in the place. Octo and Hush exchanged glances, nodded, and just dropped the body like a sack of potatoes and ran like hell. They'd soon join up with the rest of the Whispers, as pitched battle and escape ensued. It was harsh, it was brutal, but the party managed to get into the sewers with only a few bruises and cuts and several sacks full of money to show for the whole fiasco. Everyone glared at their fearless leader... and started to laugh uproariously. "Hey, Hush, you think Kelsier ever lost a fistfight with his grandma?" Hush: "I'll have you know I won!" "See, that you had to qualify it..."

... Now there's an idea for a novel... Hey, BRANDON! FREE PITCH RIGHT HERE!

The medallions are such a technological game-changer it's unbelievable.

Now that opens all sorts of interesting, nifty possibilities...

It was something I read about a few years ago, I'll prowl around the net, see if I can pull it up again. I just remember we apparently had the technological feasibility for it. I can't seem to recall if there have ever been any brass metalminds that have actually stored away external (as opposed to internal) heat sources. Even so, one would think the brass would melt from absorbing too much eat, not unless it were reinforced with high-tempered and fire-resistant metals. ... And huh. Hadn't thought of that. It would be a neat draw, but otherwise limited. I don't think a coppermind could, say, necessarily restore brain cells or repair damaged components of the brain that produce long-term or short-term memories. Still, it's a good step. So, essentially, we'd have various oddjobs for Ferrings or Allomancers... where they'd be forced to spend hours at a time in human-sized hamster wheels, so to speak? I have to say, I could see a union rising rather quickly out of those circumstances.

Heh heh, really? For good or ill? C'mon, share the juicy details!