I think I am here.

You didn't even introduce yourself, you just went straight to this lol.

Yeah. When Drake said he was out of stock for good reasons, I voted him as a joke, until 'he was in stock again'. But I missed Araris' vote on him. Not that I never saw it, but the time I was making the vote on Drake I had forgotten.

I feel like we should, pin this to the Social Groups section for new members.

Moving my vote from Lopen because he's going to die of inactivity anyway. Elandera, you're my second suspect, due to the other reasons people have said on this thread, and also because I don't want to die. Regardless, I'm still going to feel super guilty if it turns out you were a villager.

Righteo, it seems I'm way too good at accidentally getting myself lynched. Call it a pattern. Anyway, about the comments that I'm inactive despite calling inactive players elims, I can say that although I haven't been posting in the thread, I've made quite a lot of PMs throughout the cycle. Stick, Drake, Devotary, Snip and soon CadCom can all attest I've been PMing them throughout the day, and most of them can attest that I am innocent. Though I doubt it's going to matter much now, there's my reasoning. Also, Oplen and Araris, when I was speaking my thoughts on Lopen, that was all they were. Thoughts. I ws simply opening up a possible inquiry, though that seemed to be taken too far. When I was pressured by Araris to take a vote, I decided to hold on my theory, because no one else was too suspicious to me.

I can sort of see where you're coming from, but I can't think of a person to vote for a reason beyond poke-voting. But, to strengthen my point, I'll vote for Lopen, because of his suspicious inactivity.

Rashan didn't see it all. He didn't see his opponents third card, tapped for the abrasion surge. He didn't see his opponent slide off the arena wall, and appear on the other side of the arena, barely scathed. No, Rashan saw none of those things. Instead, as Rashan materialised back in the Physical Realm, he was greeted to the sight of enemy staring him down not but a few steps away, barely bruised and offering no explanation why. Of course, to Rashan, the root cause of every problem was always 'Storming magic', and keeping everything problematic his opponent had done over the course of the fight in mind, Rashan had nothing else to blame it on. As his opponent appeared to draw another three magic squares, each glowing with their own vibrant colour, Rashan heard the bold voice of his mortal enemy once again: "I'll give you the first attack, you've earned it!" Thank the Stormfather. While Rashan wasn't done yet, a straight attack right after his near death experience would not be ideal, especially after his hand still hurt from the sword. What was up with that anyway? While the physical wound had healed into a scar, Rashan still felt damaged. In fact, he seemed blocked to some parts of his spirit, including his beloved Chromium magic. No. No one took away his Chromium. Rashan charged. He didn't go for a straight attack, Rashan knew he was outmatched in that regard. Excluding the stormlight he was using to consistently, if not slowly, heal his damaged soul, Rashan calculated he would only have a little for further attacks. Well, that meant Rashan had to make this one count. It started with an elsecall. Just a couple feet, nothing too big. As Rashan entered the Cognitive Realm charging at his enemy he exited it a couple feet above, having elsecalled above his enemy, rather than the expected attack of behind. As he fell to his enemy from above, Rashan remembered those hours of soulcasting training with Voidus, and, utilising his ability to fast-talk, managed to soulcast a large box of steel around his opponent, many inches thick and completely surrounding his opponent, trapping them. As Rashan now fell to the roof of the steel box he elsecalled inside of it, and briefly meeting his opponent inside, waved, before soulcasting all air in the box into smoke and elsecalling out of it. After this, he soulcasted another multi-inch thick layer of rock around the steel, and, gasping from exhaustion, smiled in satisfaction. Healing aside, he was all out of stormlight. But now his opponent was suffocating, trapped in a thick rock box around a thick steel box where the only thing he could breathe would be smoke. Marvellous. How was that for a first move?

I agree. I say we look for less active people this cycle, and start our suspicions from there. The slim might still not be active. Also, we know Lopen didn't post last cycle, so could it be that he was one of the elims, and the reason he couldn't send in a kill was the same reason he didn't post?

On Allomancy Obviously a mass pulling or pushing bomb would be cool. A soothing or rioting bomb may also come in handy. A cadmium bomb to surround your enemies in slow time. On Feruchemy A reverse copper bomb to make the enemy forget why they're fighting. A reverse steel bomb to make them slow. A reverse pewter bomb to take away their strength, and a tin bomb to enhance their pain. A brass heat bomb, or a reverse brass cold bomb. A reverse bronze bomb to make them exhausted. A reverse zinc bomb to make them dumb. A reverse aluminium bomb to make them lose grip of who they are. A reverse chromium bomb for bad luck. A duralumin connection bomb to connect the two fighting parties, seizing the fighting. Or a reverse duralumin bomb, making them enemy more detached from each other. A reverse nicrosil bomb, to rid the enemy of ALL Investiture. An atium bomb, to make them too old to fight. Or a reverse atium bomb, making them toddler age. A reverse gold bomb, taking away their health. A reverse electrum bomb to take away their determination. A reverse cadmium bomb to literally take their breath away. A reverse bendalloy bomb to starve them. These were just some ones I thought from the top of my head.

Disappointing, Drake Marshal. Consider yourself poke-voted for not having a great reason to poke-vote someone.

Rashan stared boldly into the eyes of his opponent as he glowed, radiant with stormlight. From the grandstands, he could swear he saw Voidus nodding in approval, despite being an immobile rock. Storms, this felt wonderful. The energy. The power. Rashan had battling with his foe for quite some time, but the stormlight refreshed him, making his anguish go away. Rashan was so distracted by his stormlight he didn't even notice the man opposite to him bring out two more of his wierd magical squares, and blast Rashan back. Rashan could feel his stomach lurch before he did, carrying him at high speed backwards. Towards the arena wall. If Rashan didn't do something now, he would be crushed. Calling upon his soulcatsing skills, Rashan focused on the arena wall, or more specifically, the section of the arena wall he was about to hit. As Rashan flew towards the wall, he began to feel half of himself slipping into the cognitive realm, a sensation he'd only ever felt in practise, never in a fight, and never while being thrown at a wall. Luckily, Rashan was an expert in fast-talking, and in the few seconds between flying at the wall and hitting it, Rashan's steel allowed him to talk exceptionally fast. "You wanna be a sponge." Rashan said to the wall. "No, I must stand, must protect." The wall replied. Objects didn't have a set speaking pace, so no matter how fats Rashan talked, the object would understand. It was all in his Perception. "You wanna be a sponge." Rashan continued. "No, I-" "You wanna be a sponge." The thing was, while Rashan's mouth was sped up, his mind wasn't. When Rashan fast-talked, he didn't have time to think of what words to say, so he just repeated the same phrase over and over again, hoping his stubbornness would be enough in that fraction of a second. "No, I-" "You wanna be a sponge." "Why wo-" "You wanna be a sponge." And so it continued. To Rashan, it wasn't that time itself was slowed down, but rather his mouth was sped up, saying the same phrase over and over again in a wierd sound that his ears couldn't understand. To the wall, however, it was having a conversation with a being who just wouldn't stop insisting that it became a sponge. So, with enough pushing, it gave in. Rashan hit the wall, or rather, the sponge that identified itself as the wall, softly. Though he had been pushed with much force, the sponge had absorbed most of it, and stormlight had done its best to heal up the rest. As Rashan breathed in another sphere of the addictive energy, he transformed the sponge back into rock. He didn't have time to celebrate his survival as he saw his opponent soar at him, sword extended like a lance, eyes locked in hate. Rashan barely had any time to react before the sword hit him. As he raised his hands in a desperate attempt to block the blow, the world slowed. It didn't slow because of his speed. It didn't slow because of any supernatural powers, no, but for Rashan Caer, twinborn and squire, in those few moments of the ghastly sword cutting his hand, Rashan's life flashed between his eyes. Fight or Flight. The next few moments were driven by instinct, steered by nothing but Rashan's sense of self-Preservation. First, Rashan disappeared. To all eyes but his own. Rashan had simply vanished into thin air. To Rashan, however, he was currently in the Cognitive Realm, moving so fast he never sunk in the sea of spheres below him. In his right hand lay the sword his enemy had tried to kill him with, brought into the Cognitive Realm with Rashan. His left hand was bleeding, a cut residing in his palm. With a shout Rashan dropped the sword among the shifting spheres underneath him, lost forever, and as he sucked in the majority of his spheres to attempt to heal the cut, Rashan thought about his opponent. Moving so fast, so quickly, there would be no way to swerve in time to not hit the wall, would there? Rashan entered back into the Physical Realm, hand still hurting, hoping that if his enemy hadn't died by crashing into the wall at such a high speed, they would be heavily injured.

Yeah, this my third game.

Rashan continued to pelt his opponent, hoping he was at least doing some damage. In all honesty, he felt quite proud of himself for finding a solution to that whiteish thread. Suddenly, his opponent disappeared just as Rashan laid another punch, his hand sinking into the sand where his opponent used to be. Looking around, Rashan saw his opponent standing opposingly on the other side of the arena. Storms. "Well, you certainly did your homework on me! I'm flattered." His opponents voice sounded bold, loud, and slightly a bit annoyed. Was this the first time Rashan had heard him speak throughout the whole battle? "No more games, no more tricks, no more fancy manoeuvres or swapping places, I'm done with that!" This was it. Had Rashan's opponent been going easy on him so far? As for the tricks, Rashan could attest they were storming annoying. As Rashan's opponent finished talking, Rashan eyed the copy he had killed, half expecting it to jump up and stab him. Rather, the copy turned into a doll. It still had all the cuts Rashan had gave it on its pale body, but it was a doll nonetheless. I hate magic, Rashan thought as he turned away from the doll and looked back at his enemy, who was wielding a large sword and a floating bundle of cloth. So storming confusing! As his opponent ran towards him, sword outstretched, cloth flying, red glove glowing, Rashan realised he couldn't fight this. Here, an opponent with access to magics he could never understand, fought him. Rashan bought more time by Speeding to the other side of the arena just as his opponent reached his, crowd roaring ever more at his opponent's dramatics. As Rashan looked to the grandstands, he saw how many people wanted his opponent to win, wearing his oppositions colouring. Few wore Rashan's own colours, which meant that in the grandstands, his enemy was vastly more popular. Rashan sighed. But out of the some who did wear Rashan's colours, Rashan noticed one in particular. A rock. Voidus' rock. Stromfather! Rashan thought as he took a sphere of stormlight from his coat pocket, and breathed it in, feeling the energy inside of him, wanting to break out. Being a squire was nice, even if you needed your radiant around. For 1: no pesky oaths. For 2: power. As his opponent advanced further, Rashan, Elsecaller squire, cracked his knuckles and smiled. No more games.

Itiah III woke to the calm sound of ash piling up outside his door. Bringing his journal out - a family heirloom - Itiah began to recount his day as he walked through the cold streets of Luthadel. In his journal was not only his own writing, but that of his fathers and his grandfathers, a trove of information. Itiah's family believed in not making the same mistakes your elders did, and so this book outlined the advice given over generations. @Araris Valerian I've posted.

Rashan barely forced his hand to miss his opponent's neck as he observed the soft, glowing line that connected them. Yes, he'd seen this before. When his opponent had faced that other guy. All stabs, all cuts, even a shardblade wound, they had been reflected onto the attacker. Rashan knew better than to injure his enemy now. While Rashan himself couldn't heal, he had no doubts that his opponent would be able to, considering all that had happened lately. Rashan looked towards the source of the thread, in hopes he would be able to break it. There it was, three metallic cards with weird glowing symbols on them, all in his opponent's hand. Where had he gotten them from? Rashan would have to look more closely next time. Rashan had learnt from his previous fight that these symbols were Aons. Throwing his knife away and swigging a chromium vial, Rashan reached his hand out for the cards, and as he flared his chromium, losing its warmth in his stomach, the line that conjoined his opponent to him disappeared. Thank the Stormfather, Rashan thought in relief as he began to, yet again, pelt his opponent with punches.

I would also like to join in on the Feruchemy

The sword sliced into his opponent, and as Rashan proceeded to cut the person up, he noticed that his enemy wasn't moving anymore. Ha, Rashan thought. Dead already. Unless they can resurrect or some shennangins like that. That would suck. From the corner of his eye, Rashan picked up two blurs, one big, the other small. They were heading right towards him at a startling speed. The copy. It had his power. "Storms!" Rashan shouted as he brought up the dead body in his hands, using it as a shield for the two blurs. "You really are two people!" He'd have to bring that up with mediator one day. The blurs crashed into Rashan in an eyeblink as both him and his opponent lay fighting on the floor. Thankfully, it seemed that the smaller projectile - it seemed like another dagger - had been stopped by Rashan's dead body shield, while the bigger blur, the copy itself, had tumbled to the ground as well as Rashan, most of its force gone into the body than Rashan. Still, Rashan wasn't without a few bruises. As they squirmed on the ground, each hoping to get a hold on the other, Rashan pinned the copy down, and then plucked the dagger out of his first opponents body and sped up his right arm to many times that of a human, effectively creating a jackhammer-stabbing machine. He grunted as he tried to speed-stab the copy, intending to at least get a mortal wound on his opponent.

Rashan eyed his two opponents carefully, lightly tapping his steel in case any of them tried to launch a surprise attack. Weren't these matches meant to be one-on-one? Either Rashan had been lied to, or one of these two was a copy, an imitation of his opponent. Or both of them are, Rashan pondered, and my real enemy is actually behind me, invisible. Considering how little Rashan knew of magic abilities beyond his own, he wouldn't have surprised if it was the case. As he stared down his twin enemies, he noticed an oddity in their movement. As soon as one of them took a step, the other did the same, perfectly mimicking the other's gait.The pattern repeated, the figures taking the same steps, the same movements, though one of them was fractionally delayed, perhaps by half a second. Rashan guessed that was the copy. Suddenly, one of the figures raised their hand at Rashan, and a series of somethings flew from their palm, glistening in the light and speeding towards Rashan's chest. The other enemy, the supposed copy, also raised its hand, though nothing came out. Of course, Rashan thought as the somethings advanced, slowed by Rashan's steeltapping. The illusion can mimic the person, but it doesn't have the same weaponry! Tapping steel further, Rashan stepped to the side, hearing the projectiles clatter against the arena wall behind him. Then, he zoomed across the arena floor, a blur to anyone witnessing. Arriving next to who he thought was the real opponent, Rashan began his attack with a series of punches and jabs, utilizing his momentum for strength and burning chromium, in case his enemy had any magic in him that was susceptible to it. Speeding around in an effort to confuse his enemy, Rashan finally brought out his short-sword, encased in the finest aluminium out of its sheath as he swung the weapon at the man before him.

This sounds fun, how do I join?

That would be great! All we need to do now is wait on Nohadon.

I've replied to the thread, @Nohadon, so you can make your move. Would anyone like to volunteer as a mediator for this fight? @Kidpen, @Archer Or @Gancho Libre?