Fifth Scholar
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Perhaps it’s the curse of mobile, but I’m not seeing that. I think there’s a maximum capacity for PMs (50 or so?) and then to go above that, mods have to start adding new members to the PM.
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That’s a very good question. I think any of the site mods can do it, which would be any SE moderator save myself, though perhaps only a global mod has the power, so maybe just Wilson. As a subforum mod I lack the powers to add you. I’ll ask the other mods though. If you’d rather go the other way around, and help a perhaps more experienced GM, you could try co-GMing a game, which is intended to get you used to the process of GMing without the stress of trying to run the whole show at first. If you’d rather jump straight in, then another GM could co-GM with you instead and help guide you through it. (Or both.) It’s really up to you whenever your turn to GM comes around.
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I don’t have the power to add you to the PM, Ark, but I’d be happy to put you on the GM waitlist should you know which game type you’d like to run.
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Era bent, aching at every joint, and knelt at the foot of one of her beloved plants. Water cupped in her hands carefully, she poured it gently onto the brown leaves, watching as they gratefully soaked in the moisture. She scowled. Not only had the Lord Ruler messed up her plants, converting them from green to brown, but now a spirit from the mists themselves had made off with her watering can. This was her solution until a new one could be procured—with Luthadel in the state it was, she suspected it could be a while. No matter. She had outlived old age, attacks from Spiked, the burning of her city. She would survive this as well. Reaching into the bucket at her side again and dousing her hands in the cool water, she felt a light tap on the shoulder. Spinning, she prepared to tap a concealed Pewter metalmind, but the mist spirit simply drew itself away from her, gazing at her curiously. In its hand, it held her silver watering can, and it gazed at Era with a bemused expression on its face. Feeling a surge of relief and joy, Era took the can with trembling hands, then let out a loud whoop of joy, uncharacteristic of her advanced years. Flicking some of the water at the spirit, which recoiled, she set out to the rest of her watering with a renewed vigour and joy. A small miracle, but the first she may have witnessed in decades. Then two figures descended on her deserted field. The first came walking, a long spear in his hand. He was garbed like a soldier, yet oddly carried a variety of small wooden statues at his hip. Their carved faces and forms stared at Era as the rarely seen Doma approached her at a constant speed, in no particular hurry. Era frowned. “Is something wrong, Doma?” “Yes, he answered simply. “My master has ordered your death.” Raising the spear, he slammed it into Era’s chest, and her eyes widened as she hit the dirt row in between her vegetables, tapping Pewter in a desperate attempt to gain the vitality she needed to fight the wound. “Do not...disturb my plantings...” she sputtered as her breath began to leave her. “Had enough...gardens ruined...by callous fools...” Her voice trailed into nothingness as she slowly slipped into unconsciousness, unable to recover from the initial shock of her wound. Doma regarded her for a second, and then gently moved her head off a small lettuce. She had deserved better. Still, orders were orders, and he did not have to like them to execute them. The second figure came flying, a small clip hitting the hardpacked earth as a trailing dark form appeared against the rising sun. Zane. Doma’s heart seethed with rage as the Mistborn descended, and he threw his spear at the flying Mistborn, seeking to impale him. Of all the places for that Mistborn to find him! Suddenly, the Mistborn changed course. Snatching Doma’s spear out of the air and twirling it around, he suddenly Pulled himself toward Doma, spear extended. The two hit the ground, Doma first, Zane’s weight driving his sturdy iron-tipped spear through his heart. As the man gurgled and choked, his life failing him, Zane stood and regarded the neatly planted rows around him, moving Doma’s body, which had fallen in a row of the hardened dirt which Era used as a path, into a more parallel position with the garden. He studied his nemesis’ face for another brief moment, then dropped another coin, soaring back towards the heart of the besieged city. Behind him, a garden stood untouched by the ravages of two conflicts—yet as their blood watered the soil under which they lay, the presence of Era and Doma was already departing that sacred place, leaving for other realms, and the protective hand of the gardener and the calloused hand of the soldier, both shielding and supporting in their own ways, would be gone perhaps forever. Elandera was attacked and killed! She was a Elend’s Loyalist Rioter 1! Rathmaskal was attacked and killed! He was a Subordinate Seeker 2 with an Inserted Hemalurgic Spike! Hemalurgic Spike: While a player holds this item, they may choose to Insert, Remove, or Pass the spike. While the Spike is inserted, the user gains the passive abilities of Thug 2 and Tineye 1, but cannot be Smoked. The extra life from Thug 2 may only be used once. Day 6 has begun! It will end in about 46-47 hours on Sunday 2 June at 9 PM EDT (-4:00 UTC). Please remember that PMs remain closed during the Day. There will be a lynch today, with no vote minimum required to kill. Good luck! Player List:
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Thank you very much, Joe. Yes, the turn is over. Results coming in an hour or two from this post.
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RP their recovery. That can be in whatever manner you wish.
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It is once again entirely possible that I will not be around at 9 PM EDT sharp. However, as with last cycle, the turn will still end at that time irrespective of my presence or lack thereof. You should therefore strive to submit any actions before then, meaning you have a little less than six hours to finalise them.
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Now when it was known that Zane had escaped from their grasp once again and pursuit was unavailing, Elend’s Loyalists remained long seated in darkness in the quiet of their rooms; but the Subordinates for the most part returned to their plots and mourned for the lost opportunity. Through the dim alleys of Luthadel mists drifted in from outside the city walls and mantled the storefronts, and the lamps and torches of many men began burning pale against the gloom of the setting sun. Then suddenly Senn Conrad appeared in the city and called on all to come to the courtyard of Keep Venture upon the summit of its highest turret; but the doom of banishment and exile that had been laid on him by Elend was not lifted, and he openly defied the Loyalists. The multitude gathered swiftly, therefore, to hear what he would say; and the turret and all the passages and walls of the Keep were lit with the light of many torches that each one bore in hand. Conrad was a master of words, and his tongue held great power over hearts when he would use it; and that night he made a speech to the Loyalists which they ever remembered. Fierce and fell were his words, and full of frustration and pride; and hearing them the Loyalists were stirred to madness. His wrath and his hate were given the most part to Astick, and yet it was with him and from him that well nigh all the words which issued from his mouth had their ultimate source; but he was distraught from grief from the slaying of his companion, and with anguish from the loss of his quartzite skull. He claimed now the leadership of all the Subordinates now that Zane the Mad was dead, and he scorned the decrees of Elend. “Why, O people of Luthadel,” he cried, “why should we serve the jealous Elend, who cannot keep us nor even his own city safe from the ravages of Mistborn? And though he be now their foe, was not his date and Zane of one kin? Vengeance calls me hence, but even were it otherwise I would not dwell longer in the same land with the kindred of my comrade’s slayer and of the thief of my treasure. Yet I am not the only valiant in this valiant people. And have not all ye lost a friend to this war? And what else have ye not lost, being cooped up in a narrow city between Straff Venture’s horde and an army of koloss?” “Here once was life, which Elend begrudged to Scadrial, but now death levels all. Shall we mourn here deedless for ever, a shadow-folk, mist-haunting, dropping vain arrows on an innumerable horde? Or shall we return to our lives? In Luthadel under the Lord Ruler ran sweet the flow of free commerce through plains unclouded with armies. Wide lands lay about, where a free people might walk. There they lie still, awaiting us who in our folly forsook them. Come away! Let the cowards keep this city and police its laws!” Long he spoke, and ever he urged the Loyalists to follow him and by their own prowess kill Astick and win great valour with the forces of Lekal. Yet recalling their separate callings Astick and Laila his supporter therefore spoke against Conrad, and fierce words awoke, so that wrath came to the edge of swords. Divided into two camps, the Loyalists arose; but though the split had seemingly been even, the influence of a few voices, spoken in underhanded tones in choice words, would prove the deciding factor. Conrad was therefore stripped of his vials of metal, and forced to burn aluminum in preparation for his execution, on the outskirts of the keep, there to throw him down from the sheer walls of the city. And Astick stood by and said nothing; but at the last Conrad cried out: “So you forsake your city and your kin, ill-gotten fiend! Here shall you fail of all your hopes, and here may you yet die the same death as I.” Then they cast Conrad over the walls of the Keep, and so he ended. Devotary of Spontaneity was lynched! She was Count Senn Conrad III! Vote Count:find it now? Devotary (6): Maill, Elandera, HH, Stick, Ada Stick (4): Lum, Fura, Devotary, Rath, Straw Night 5 has begun! It will end in about 22-23 hours on Friday 31 May at 9 PM EDT (-4:00 UTC). You have one more turn to find your items before they’re lost forever to the Hostile Mist Spirit. PMs remain open during the Night. Please continue to abide by all restrictions on their use. Good luck! Player List:
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I do it the weird backwards Joe way when GMing because it saves time. The cycle is closed! Stand by for rollover. Aftermath should be up in an hour or two. But only the aftermath of this lynch.
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@Hemalurgic Headshot, I will not count these votes. As Mailliw said, simply use the codes [colour=green]Retraction[/colour] and then [colour=red]Vote[/colour] to cast votes on mobile. Except you spell colour the colonial heathen American way. Also, a brief note—I may not be around at precisely 9:00 PM EDT tonight, depending on how long church lasts, but the cycle will still end at that time. Even if I am a few minutes slow in returning to the Shard, I will not accept votes and actions sent after the usual rollover time, so please get them in sooner rather than later. You all have fewer than seven hours in which to do so.
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I count votes backwards, not forwards, therefore retractions are only necessary should you wish to cast no vote at all after having previously voted.
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Aname Plees took the stairs 2 at a time, leaving the poor doctor behind in his living room, yelling after her. He said it was the second door on the left. She skidded to a stop before it, just barely avoiding slamming it open. She breathed in, then opened the door quietly. "Oh hey Aname! Here to check up on me?" Aname exhaled loudly, and laughter bubbled up before she quelled it. Of course he was alive, the doctor had said he survived. "Hello Oramen. How are you feeling?" The older gentleman was sitting in a bed, bandaged almost beyond recognition, yet still beaming in the morning light. A long wooden pole had been tied to one arm in order to keep it straight, and it looked like his leg had the same treatment under the blanket. "Definitely been better. But I'm alive! That never happens!" She came all the way into the room and shut the door behind her. She walked over to his bed, hesitated as she realised she didn't want to hurt him on accident, then dragged a rickety chair over. "The Doctor said you walked all the way here from Tin Street?" She glanced at his leg again. It definitely had a pole strapped to it. Oramen nodded sagely. “And a long walk it was, but I couldn't die! I had to keep moving, had to Survive! Something protected me Aname." She settled into her chair backwards, leaning forward onto its backrest and looked him right in the eyes. “Tell me everything.” "So, late last night, we were all at the great inn, the one where Jenny accidently dropped a whole pot of soup on Marley, remember that? Anyway, Era jumped onto a table and said 'Yo dudes, we gotta find the Mistborn, and it's totally Doma, so everyone go kill him' and we all tried to! He had just been standing in the corner, but turns out, he was just a cardboard cutout! I didn't even know we had those yet!" Aname blinked. Cardboard? Yet? "But Era was like 'oh no he got away! Everyone go run around and chase him down, except me, because I'm an old lady!' So I grabbed that old dude Astick and say 'yo dawg, I bet Doma's hiding in the old Canal!' Oh hey, did you know that one of Astick's legs is made of wood? Pretty cool for an old dude. But he said 'no way, if Doma is a mistborn, he'll be high as a kite! We should check out the tallest rooftops in the city!' And I was like 'great idea man,' so we were on top of Keep Hastings. You know where that is right?" Oh, he was looking at her like he was waiting for something. This was difficult to follow. "Uh, how does he walk with a wooden leg?" "I know right? But so on the roof of the Keep, we saw a dude sleeping, and Astick was all like, 'haha found you now Zane! Now we're going to kill you!' But then the figure looked up, and we realized it was Zane, and we remembered, we're just like, an old guy with a wooden leg and a broke nobleman, and how were we gonna defeat a Mistborn? Oh hey, can I Borrow some money to pay the Doctor? I'll pay you back later." Aname nodded, still trying to process what he was saying. Wasn't Keep Hasting on Machmuller street? "Awesome, I owe you one! So Zane is like 'come on guys, I was taking a nap, I was having a great dream where my dad got eaten by dogs, and now I'm gonna kill you for waking me up!' And he grabbed Astick's wooden leg and ripped it off, which is how I learned it was wooden, and then he smacked Astick in the head with it! Knocked him right off the rooftop! He just went up and then down, screaming like he was dying or something! So Zane turns to me, and I'm just praying to someone, whoever, to save me, and then a door bangs open, and a dozen Lekal soldiers pour onto the roof to fight Zane! I'm thanking the Lord Ruler for sending soldiers to save me, but one of them sees me and shoves me off the roof as well! I fall through the mist, perfectly quiet cause I'm brave like that, and smash into a cabbage cart at the base of the keep. I'm laying there, and I can hear Astick right next to me, moaning about how in his day, kids didn't throw their elders off of roofs or whatever. But then we hear a voice, is real spooky, and it says 'Yo dudes, it's not your time to die yet, you gotta go tell everyone that Steeldancer reports that devotary is lying about being Conrad, and that his team believes that Hemalurgic headshot is Zane. Kill HH before you kill Mailliw. I have asked Young Bard if he role claimed, but he has not yet responded.' Then we walked here." "You walked here." Aname raised an eyebrow at him. "Astick was missing a leg, and you guys had both fallen from the roof of a Keep. But you walked here." Oramen nodded. "I think I deserve a Keep named after me, since I found where Zane sleeps ya know?" She nodded and stood, reaching forward to pat him.on the head. "I will go tell Elend to give you a Keep. You just keep resting. Okay? Okay good. Buh bye!" Introducing a New RP Challenge: So I realise that despite getting to do some cool writeups along with Joe (all credit to Joe here, by the way), I’ve not been giving you guys a ton of opportunities to interact with the story. Usually as a GM, I’ll have one character that I develop throughout, or I’ll do a pattern of writeups or something to keep RP coming, but I’ve been more inconsistent this game. So, instead...we’re going to have a little fun with this. I will now be commanding the Hostile Mist Spirit. This cycle, the Mist Spirit has decided to go around and steal a small, personal item from every player. Whenever I have time in this cycle, you will receive a PM that details the item you lost, with a short paragraph of RP along with it. Respond in-thread to the loss, in RP, with any potential plans to regain your item or a long contemplation on how you’re going to accept this loss (or anything else you want to do with it, if it makes sense to your character and to the story). I will give arbitrary points and awards to players who have good RP at the end of the game, up to and including small statues, Emerald Broams, and other assorted odds and ends. Most importantly, though, I just want you all to have fun with this and hopefully liven up the thread a bit more. Straw was attacked, but survived! _Stick_ was attacked, but survived! Day 5 has begun! It will end in about 46-47 hours on Thursday 30 May at 9 PM EDT (-4:00 UTC). There is a lynch today, with no vote minimum required to kill. Please remember that PMs remain closed during the Day. Good luck! Player List:
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The cycle has closed. Come back in an hour or two to see who survived this bloody mess.
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Era leaned most of her weight on Astick’s bony shoulder as she carefully climbed onto the wooden crate. She settled herself, then accepted her cane as Astick handed it up. “Bless you sir.” Astick grinned a toothless grin and gave a little bow as he backed away. Era grasped the cane tightly before her, and stood ramrod straight. “We’re at an important crossroads here, so you young’uns listen up.” She waited as people began to quiet, elbowing others into paying attention. “Luthadel is beset by enemies, both on the outside and the inside. Lekal’s goons are running around in the Survivor’s mist, killing us left and right, and we have a group of Rogue Mistborn trying to kill them, mostly by killing any of us that even might be taking Lekal’s coin. We all have a few people we suspect have their pockets full, but that’s no longer the issue. We have to find the most dangerous of our enemies first, as they’ll be killing us the sooner. So I’d like to call a vote.” She raised her cane and pointed at three people. “Astick, Doma, and Varuun.” Astick, the nice old man started, and mouthed “but I helped you.” Varuun carefully made his way towards her, then stood with hands clasped, watching attentively. Doma leaned against the wall, making no moves. “I’m fairly certain, given everything we’ve seen since Lekal’s arrival, that one of those three is Zane the Mad. Does anyone disagree?” Amid the low rumbling of assent, Laila, the Noblewoman who had been so outspoken against Elend, stood up on her own table with the help of a servant. Era cursed under her breath. Anyone but her, please, let me die of old age before I hear that pretentiousness again. “I agree that the Mistborn must be hunted. And I would like to direct everyone’s attention to Varuun.” Everyone looked at the man, who looked back stoically. “Everyone has seen Zane the Mad before. He was used as a messenger when our ‘noble King’s Father arrived to assume his place. And yet, none of us can find a man who looks like Zane anymore.” She pointed dramatically at the man again, emphasizing her words. “This man can change his appearance faster than anyone I know. I once saw him duck into an alley, and come out with a different color of skin! He’s a master of disguise! Far more likely to be Zane than Astick!” “Hear hear!” Astick called out, shaking his cane at Varuun. Huh. That was actually somewhat logical, if hard to verify. “Well, I tend to agree. Varuun needs to go.” Snip and Makail both yelled out their agreement. Varuun cocked his head. “Why do you lie to defend Astick so much Laila? Are you so desperate to kill me? Did you not hear the excellent arguments posed by the honorable Era?” He turned and nodded to the old Terriswomen. “Your argument is correct madam. Zane is the greatest threat to everyone in this city, and out. Killing me would only hasten his slaughter of everyone in this building.” Era hesitated as the man’s eyes burned into her. But before she could say anything, Astick spoke up. “Laila is right, you heard her, Varuun is extremely suspicious, and needs to be killed before he kills anymore of us!” Era looked back and forth between the two of them. Varuun nodded his head, directing her gaze to Doma, still leaning against the wall, not intervening whatsoever. She made a snap decision. “It’s Doma. It’s definitely Doma.” Varuun turned to the room at large. “Doma is Zane everyone. Aname, Ford, will you help me restrain him?” Ford looked to Era, who nodded. He stepped up. “I will. We will deal with You and Astick later.” Aname slowly shook her head. “I think it’s Laila, I think she’s Vin. That’s why she dislikes Elend so much, she abandoned him.” Makail stepped up in her place, ignoring her words. “I’ll help.” The three strode purposefully towards Doma, who continued to not move. Ford and Makail both lunged forward, each grabbing an arm, Varuun was a step behind, and grabbed the man’s neck, slamming him backwards into the wall. The two dimensional body fell away, leaving each of them awkwardly holding an appendage. Varuun tilted the papery head of Doma sideways, then looked around the room, mouth agape. “What, what is this?” Ford knelt, and picked up the thin body. “It weighs practically nothing! Was he ever even here?” “Well no one just stand around!” Era’s shout snapped them to attention. “Don’t let him survive! Go out there and find him!” A Divine Image Cruelty has a human heart, And Jealousy a human face. Terror the human form divine, And Secrecy the human dress. I know you checked this Fura The human dress is forgéd iron, The human form a fiery forge, The human face a furnace sealed, The human heart its hungry gorge. —William Blake Rathmaskal was lynched, but survived! Vote Count: Rath (4): Elandera, Fura, Devotary, HH, Ada Devotary (3): Maill, Snip, Stick Maill (1): Lumthanks for vote consistency HH (1): Arkyou too Ark Night 4 has begun! It will end in about 22-23 hours on Tuesday 28 May at 9 PM EDT (-4:00 UTC). PMs remain open at Night. Please abide by all restrictions on them. Good luck! Player List:
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The cycle is closed. Give me an hour or two to get up the Night. And please stop changing your votes.
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The message, as I couldn’t work it in to the writeup:
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“...you let the assassin die.” Senn Conrad’s head swivelled around the basement where Lekal’s men were meeting. Blank stares greeted him for the most part, though a few newer members had slightly widened eyes at the edges from his tone. Good. They should all be quaking in terror for their blunders. He began again. “Do you honestly mean to tell me that you let Elend’s men simply execute the man we specifically hired to dispose of the rogue Mistborn?” His voice rose in intensity and anger. “The one with the best chance of killing the very threat which brought this entire operation down the last time I spearheaded it?” He flared his iron, sending a small deluge of coins and metal figurines hurling at his chest at terminal velocity. Of course, the hard wooden plate on his front easily withstood the objects, and they clattered to the ground in front of him. He picked up a coin, contemplating it for a moment. He then threw it to a surprised crewperson, who made a fumbling catch. “You think I run this operation because of the gold you pay me,” Conrad whispered. “I can get all the gold I wish for. I am part of your group for vengeance against those Mistborn and against the Venture usurper. Let Lekal’s army starve to death and consume itself outside the city! I care not. But I will not allow you all to fail this mission. It is too essential; we are the only ones with the power to neutralise the two great dangers of our time.” The same blank stares greeted him, though the wider eyes were more prevalent now. Conrad grimaced, feeling his anger flare up white-hot within him. Perhaps he would have to do it all himself. “Very well then,” he said. “Expect me back in a few hours.” Burning Iron and Pulling on a heavy metal bar fixed to a ceiling beam, Conrad soared in the air, his practice with Iron making him nearly as effective with movement as a Coinshot or Mistborn. He would seek his own targets tonight. Makail sat slumped over by his intricately constructed, interlocking tower of steel and iron. A true pity that nobody ever came close enough to one of his devious architectural inventions for him to see them work as intended. He supposed that nobody was going to come into the outskirts of Luthadel if they could help it; while high crime rates were a convenient myth, and kept plenty away from Makail’s dwelling, he’d figured that somebody would accost him eventually out of suspicion or treachery. But so far, his peace remained undisturbed. So he drifted back to sleep, not knowing of the two cloaked figures drawing steadily nearer with each dropped coin. Conrad had found the man he was looking for—Cadoxi, apparently a Thug judging by their bulging frame and the callous ease with which they handled their heavy sword. He was appropriate as a bodyguard, Conrad supposed, as he did now, standing protectively over somebody’s sleeping form. Well, it was none of Conrad’s business who the man shielded. It was just his job to kill him. Burning a mere trace of iron, the familiar blue lines cropped up in Conrad’s vision. Most of the metal sources were too heavy to move. It was not the case with the bag of clips Conrad had left directly behind the bodyguard, in a direct line to his current position. He smiled, adjusting his wooden breastplate, then closed his eyes and flared iron. A muted thud was all that announced Cadoxi as he hit the ground, fifteen holes in his torso. Ignoring the muffled cries of the sleeping form, which had just awoken, Conrad laughed as he sprinted away and then took to the air, Pulling on bars of iron to aid his flight. So Steel was the important external physical metal? Nonsense. He would break Luthadel with a rod of solid iron. Zane alighted softly on top of a small stone house, turning off his steel before making a gentle landing on its flattened roof. He looked down at the sleeping form of Makail, a soft smile bathing his face. All too easy, once again. The man expected nothing, and with Vin covering the path of his retreat, it would be a quick and harmless sting. Hopefully this would be another Spider. Flipping a coin between his fingertips, Zane flared his Steel, Pushing it towards the sleeping man. A slight creaking under his feet was all the warning Zane would get as the entire house came crumbling down from underneath his feet. Too shocked for befuddlement, Zane cried out in pain as his body hit the mass of stone bricks and iron bars below; meanwhile, with Zane’s position changed, the coin he shot flew wildly off-course, fading into the misty sky. That had hurt. Zane coughed, and was greeted with a handful of blood. Excellent. What was this contraption he had stumbled into? Seconds ago, it had been a sturdy stone house with metal supports; now, it lay in a heap of rubble. Likely Makail, who was now fled, had somehow designed it to trick Mistborn. Zane groaned. He had to get out of here before Day broke. Burning Steel, being careful to Push only on his coin this time, he shot towards Vin, chants of death circulating in his head as his wracked and injured form took to the skies. Cadmium Compounder was attacked and killed! He was a Elend’s Loyalist Thug 1! Hemalurgic Headshot was attacked, but survived! Day 4 has begun! It will end in 46-47 hours on Monday 27 May at 9 PM EDT (-4:00 UTC). There is a lynch today, with no votes required to kill a player. Please remember that PMs are closed at Day. Good luck! Player List:
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Cycle closed!
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Somebody else is preparing a special writeup for Steeldancer’s death, and will likely deserve all the upvotes you can give them once he finishes. By virtue of its high quality, that will take a while, and in the meantime there’s an awful lot of blank space up here, and I don’t want to put “writeup to come.” It’s too simplistic, and does too little honour to a player I’ve known and respected for a year and a half. I am no Elbereth, to give Steel a depiction in language which reveals his inner tendencies and voice, though I wish such skills were mine—perhaps they will be, someday, but certainly to do so now in the span of little over an hour would be immensely difficult and beyond my current capabilities as a writer. However, before this game resumes and we all move on, I’d like to describe, in the ways I know best, the man you just lynched. If they are direct, without connotation, so be it. Steeldancer was my first taste of what SE was like. Really, the game I’m rerunning, LG41, was, but other than Seonid, who extended a welcoming hand and invited me to see what SE was like, Steel was the first to welcome me informally into this strange and bloody corner of the Shard. Despite fighting for his life as Zane in this very game, around cycle 3 when pressure was truly mounting, he carved out the time to send me a PM, though I’d posted once on the Shard total and was doing little other than stalking the Day and Night threads in which the game was occurring. Overcoming my doubts about following and joining SE, Steel’s PM, entitled “I see you lol,” would be a driving factor in my decision to join the AG and step out of the shadows into the broader community. If that was his only contribution to my presence and life on this subforum, that would already be plenty to earn him prominence alongside Seonid as one of the few who started me on the road to being a gentleman killer of SE. But his interactions with me didn’t stop there. AG4/AN1 was my first game, and as many of you know, Steel and I found each other despite the anonymity, quickly teamed up, and crushed the village in almost the minimum number of turns. The only catch is that we were both villagers ourselves. The hilarity of how we deceived ourselves into trusting almost all the Eliminators was not lost on either of us, and despite times when we both thought the other was evil, our misguided alliance only drew us closer together throughout that game. Steel was definitely the first friend I made on the subforum, largely as a result of this initial failure, and the utter destruction we wreaked on our own faction would ironically prove the beginning of a lasting relationship. Time would fail me to speak of our other alliances, which tested and reaffirmed this bond. Betrayal and death in LG42; a firm commitment and kinship in LG49, when we would stand together against hordes of Alethi demanding my blood; AG5, uniting our factions for a common purpose for one brief, shining moment, and when I would advocate for his death and Return. Many smaller moments in the LGs and MRs scattered between, PMs discussing small things, and a constant attempt to reform the original pact of AG4, the mutual trust at whatever cost which made games so interesting. And I’ve not even spoken of when we’ve interacted as GMs—Steel’s joined every one of my games, and I’ve been able to say the same about his (if you count IMing) except for this last MR, which saddens me, but I haven’t read Skyward and will need to finish this game up. I’m grateful to Steel that he’s done that, if only so I can troll him mercilessly (as I’ve done in this game ). He’s always a willing and enthusiastic player, no matter what role or alignment he is, and that’s a joy to see as a GM. It’s therefore somewhat striking, and saddening, that I’m about to lose all this. Certainly, I’m losing a close compatriot in SE, as I’ve detailed extensively above. But I’m also losing a part of the initial touch that brought me into the community; I’m losing a friend with whom I could discuss nearly anything; and I’m losing Steel’s optimistic attitude and constant excitement with the small wonders of the world, which helped bring about our friendship to begin with. These are the indelible aspects of Steel which cannot be adequately replaced, and which I will miss the most when he is off on his mission. To close this, Steel, I simply wish you safety and good fortune on your mission, and look forward to your safe return to us in two years. I thank you for your impact on my life, and doubtless your touch on the lives of others which is similarly profound. With all that said and done... Steeldancer was lynched! He was a Lekal’s Subordinate Assassin and Smoker 1! Vote Count: Steel (9): Maill, Elandera, Fura, Devotary, Rath, CadCom, Stick, Straw, Ark Stick (1): Steel Rath (1): HH Fura (1): Lumgol Night 3 has begun! It will end Saturday 25 May at 9 PM EDT (-4:00 UTC), in about 22-23 hours. PMs are open. Please abide by all restrictions on them. Good luck! Player List:
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Cycle closed!
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After discussing with others, and in response to a player asking me about this, I have decided to allow each player to submit one action in advance throughout the course of the entire game for a cycle in which they will be completely unavailable and unable to access the Shard.
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The wizened, weathered man strolled down the ash-covered street, a slight grimace on his face. Eyes downcast, he did not bother knocking at the burnt-down door of the vacant library. A fine enough place to stay the night, perhaps search for something. It was therefore a surprise when the library door swung open of its own accord, by a man who looked slightly surprised himself by his actions. Jumae was somewhat used to it—he did have the special talent of Rioting, and used it almost subconsciously now. The man, instead of apprehending him, smiled, revealing a set of slightly yellowed and dirt-encrusted teeth, and started to ask about his business. That would not do. Jumae cut in. “Why does everything in this rusting city decay?” The doorkeeper shut his mouth quickly, but it was too late to hide his rotting teeth from everyone else who Jumae now realised was with him. One of those men had shaggy and decrepit hair, which Jumae took quick note of. So it was at that moment when everyone in the Library got confused when everything seemed to lose its decrepit state. Jumae, his eyes nearly closed, held up his cuticle, around which swirled a miniature cloud of dust and decay, going from a small size, then expanding into something considerable, then nearly enveloping his whole hand (side note, watch out for Stink’s small, medium and large Nalthis games coming soon!). “Now all shall be clean, even in this despairing night!” Jumae exclaimed, reminding everyone that although all had seemingly been restored to a new brightness, even in the dark, sound remained the same. Instantly, the room was enveloped in an uproar, the men in the library charging at Jumae. “But I needed that decrepit nature to continue my disguise, and fully deceive my audience!” the doorman cried, swinging a heavy staff at Jumae’s skull. “But my shabby, dirty hair! That took three months without the use of conditioners!” another assailant screamed, dealing a solid punch to Jumae’s jaw. “Hey, who swept this place since the fire?” some poor, deaf heanchman cried out while beating Jumae’s arm, unable to hear Jumae’s points of wisdom. Jumae simply laughed, or cackled if you thought he was evil. This was only the beginning of the lawlessness and terror in this godless city since the death of the Lord Ruler and the failure to recognise Elend. He knew there was much more coming; he could feel it in his fingers and toes, could hear it whispered to him as he slowly lost his grip on life...With a final flourish, Jumae pointed at the Doorman and bellowed out the words that came to him from that voice: “Less RP this time, more Precision: Don’t know if Mailliw is evil, just he always lies about how much he knows/how many pm’s he has. I told Coop and Lum that the other was a Lekal Subordinate to see if one would stay silent and kill the other. Gotta find the Mistborn somehow. I win if either the Mistborn wins with Vin still alive, or if the Village wins, and Zane died before Vin. I know of every possible secret role, but I have no clue which ones are in the game, and I won’t spoil Fifth scholar’s fun by telling you what they are or what they do. Each Night, I can post a 200 word message in the writeup, and a 5 word message in each player’s PM. My Document is the dead doc, so I can pass along messages from the dead. Randuir thinks Mailliw is Evil. I won’t reveal the rest of my abilities, since there are things you guys can do to me. (Please don’t) Also, I give anyone permission to RP Fynn Seidel. He’s a paranoid Worldhopper who really wants to kill the Mistborn and Elend.” Jumae then collapsed, dead, to the ashen floor of the library’s ruins. A faint cry, barely decipherable. Dedne sprang out of his semi-recumbent posture within his chair, eyes darting to the source of the yell. The old library, now just a heap of ashes. Who could be doing anything down there at such an hour of the night? Almost anyone, he reminded himself. You’re still cutting tomorrow’s fabric for your job, who knows what others may do? Dedne glanced around, looking for a weapon to use; from the increasing frequency of the cries—was that laughter?—he would need one. Wiping away a small puddle of drool with a grimace where he had fallen asleep, Dedne grabbed the nearest sharp object: the newly recovered Extra-Large Obsidian Scissors. He felt bad putting the object at risk after it had just been stolen, but he needed something If he was going to catch those Subordinates. Running out the front door, Dedne sprinted towards the library “doors,” pace quickening as he heard Jumae’s voice begin to utter cries seemingly devoid of meaning. He remembered them anyway, or at least tried to, as he rushed to apprehend the murderers. Other citizens were waking up as well by now, some in shock, and some clearly deeming what Jumae was saying to be of the highest importance. Dedne alone rushed towards the intruders, squinting to get a better view of their faces, blocked as they were by the injured form of his friend. He held the scissors aloft, ready to ompale any in his way. Immediately, the group stopped beating on Jumae, who was mortally wounded. Donning hoods quickly and sending the body towards Dedne with a well-timed Steelpush, the group withdrew, some more quickly than others, but all sprinting away. Seeing no choice, Dedne pursued, weaving left and letting the body skid to a halt on the loosely paved road. Through crowded streets full of nobility moving armies around, to the narrower alleys where skaa lurked, the chase continued, but one by one the Subordinates evaded him; they had not woken up mere minutes earlier, and fled with the speed of a hunted hart. Still, one man remained in sight, and was indeed more tired than Dedne himself. Excellent. He would catch one of Conrad’s gang this day. Taking a sharp left where the man had just ducked beyond the corner, Dedne faced a narrow alleyway. Pulling out his scissors again, he looked up; perhaps he had finally trapped the man. The two Mistborn stood in the dark passage, smiling. Dedne tried to duck, but four coins lacerated his chest, dropping him instantly beside the dead Subordinate who had met the same grisly fate. Dedne heard voices, as if from the end of a long tunnel. “Well, Vin, did we get two spiders or just the one?” “One, I think,” Vin replied. “Look—he was pursuing the other, and shows no markings of Lekal’s.” Through a dim mist, Dedne saw the Mistborn bend, muttering something more, but she was too far off to make anything out. Perhaps he would...sleep again. Yes, that sounded wonderful. Dedne’s dead body fell forward into Vin’s arms, a testament to the will of Elend’s men—and of their paucity. STINK was attacked and killed! He was a Elend’s Loyalist Rioter 2! Xinoehp512 was attacked and killed! He was a Elend’s Loyalist Smoker 1! Day 3 has begun! It will end in 46-47 hours, on Friday 24 May at 9 PM EDT. There will be a lynch today, with no vote minimum. Please remember that PMs are closed during the Day. Good luck! check LG24!Jumae Player List:
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The Night is over! Day turn will be up in an hour or two. Please stop PMing.
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As stated in the existing rules clarifications, a Tineye 2 will not receive results if Soothed or lynched.
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“Are we sure we want to be putting any trust in the words of a dying kandra, and whispers that we only thought we heard?” Needa held her hands out, as if waiting for the answer. “There’s no literature on the subject of the mist speaking to us, but there is literature on the subject of those under a lot of stress experiencing auditory hallucinations.” “The church of the Survivor teaches us that the Mists were claimed by the Survivor after his Ascension.” Aname stepped forward, gently stroking a silver pin shaped as a spear. “I believe that these voices are true, that the Survivor of Hathsin speaks to us even now, telling us what we must know in order to survive.” There were murmurs of agreement from the crowd. Needa resisted rolling her eyes as the superstition. Her whole life, she had been raised to believe that The Lord Ruler was god. Obviously, he had been lying. He was just a powerful man who took control. Now that he was dead, people were looking for a new god. "You really believe that Kelsier wants you to kill Heer Kilyal, an owl, in order to survive the army of Koloss." There was more hesitation now, but Aname nodded. Needa rubbed her forehead and turned to go. "I'm not going to participate in this tomfoolery. I'm going home." She ignored the gasps of indignation from behind her. She had heard the same whispers they had, and was pretty sure it was imagined, possibly a result of a enemy Rioter inflaming their paranoia and fear. Actually, that was a good theory. She could probably find some evidence of that in the old histories, and show people that they needed to be hunting a rogue Misting, not searching for a new God. She took the steps up to the Library two at a time, sparing no time as she hurried to the histories. She pulled one down from the shelf, skimmed its chapter headings, then grabbed another. Then a treatise on Allomancy. Then a treatise on Inquisitors. Almost two glorious hours of uninterrupted studying later, there was a crash and a woosh from the front door. She dropped her book and ran for the entryway. It was on fire. The front door was down, and fire was consuming the long carpets, tapestries, and furniture. Outside, she could hear a large crowd chanting, “Death to the non-believer! Kelsier died for us, and Survived that death! Kill those who impugn his glorious name!” There were more crashes from deeper in her library, and Needa knew she would not be escaping this. There was nothing else she could do. Senn Conrad III stood out with the jeering mob of Survivorists in the late twilight hours, surrounding the library of Needa Naime. So that was where that skaa girl had been hiding herself all along. Among rows and shelves of books—not the typical hiding place for an inferior peasant. Though was she skaa? The former occupants had been illiterate, and perhaps a much better man, so anything was possible. Conrad dismissed the thoughts from his mind. He had more important things to focus on here. Namely, some inconvenient rumours that Lekal’s men could be traced back to documents in the very building held under seige by the Survivorists. As he stood in thought, one particularly inspired Survivorist leapt to his feet. “We need to break in there and give the heretic that runs this place a taste of the Survivor’s true power!” Some of the mob roared assent. Conrad smiled thinly. A perfect chance to rid Luthadel of its records which might trace him—mobs could be useful like that. Donning his hood, he projected his voice, using a trick he had learned to make it carry just above the hubbub of excited voices. “Burn her out! Take down this symbol of apostasy!” There was a brief pause, and some of the crowd around him took up the chant hesitantly. Conrad bellowed again, clear and loud. “Burn her out! Death to the unbeliever! Death!” The chant was spreading now. Soon, nobody would recall its source. Which was all the better for him. Secrecy of identity was necessary for their mission. And another obstacle to that secrecy had been removed; the mob had already lit torches and begun their work. Taking one last glance into the freshly kindled flames which dotted the roof of the library, and which were starting to consume the building, Conrad stood aside, fading back into the emerging mists. Soon, nothing would stand in his way. Not even that Mistborn. “Is it Kelsier?” Elend looked around the hall, meeting the eyes of each of the Survivors former crewmembers in turn. “I’ve heard lots of myths about the man, but none like this. I know he had that Kandra, OreSeur, impersonate him after his death, but by all accounts, this is something else.” Dockson leaned forward onto his elbows and clasped his hands together. “I’ve know him the longest, and I’m quite certain that if the dead could speak to the living, Kelsier would be the one to figure out how to. But,” he raised his arms and shrugged, “I’m open to other options.” “Well, whatever this mistspirit is, Vin mentioned seeing it before she was taken.” Elend turned around and began to pace, pointedly ignoring the looks the others shot each other. “I believe it is real. If it can actually communicate with the dead, then we need to figure out how to talk to it. There are plenty of secrets that the dead can tell us.” “You’re talking about the Lord Ruler’s Atium stache?” Elend looked back and gave a tight smile. “Breeze’s plan notwithstanding, I’d still like to bribe the armies to go away. It’ll be easier than hunting down all their agents in the city.” Hammond cleared his throat and stood up, “Speaking of, there was another riot today. Ms. Naime was killed. Her library was burned down with her inside. We need to maintain order in the city. I don’t think we can waste time ghost hunting.” “On the contrary my dear Ham,” Breeze pointed, “if it is Kelsier, Vin will obey him. If we get Vin back, she can rally the people behind him, Ascendent Warrior and all, and order and morale will be restored.” “If he deigns to support our noble led government.” said Dockson. “If.” Arraenae was lynched! She was the Librarian! Vote Count: Rae (7): Elandera, Fura, Xino, Devotary, Steel, Rath, CadCom CadCom (2): Coop, HH Maill (1): Lum, Stink Rath (1): Stick Xino (1): Maill Night 2 has begun! It will end in about 22-23 hours, on Wednesday 22 May at 9 PM EDT (-4:00 UTC). PMs are currently open. Please remember all rules regarding the use of PMs; namely, make sure that I am in all of them, that they are only one-on-one, and that you refrain from PMing anybody who is not living and on the player list. Enjoy flooding my inbox again.
