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Elandera

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About Elandera

  • Birthday December 4

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    https://www.leighhullauthor.com/

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    Female
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    Northern California
  • Interests
    Writing, video gaming, being lazy, and procrastinating

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  1. I'm a little late on this, but I wanted to say a huge thank you to Devotary for running this game and putting up with my inability to remember what day of the week it is. Your write ups were fantastic as always. Re: NK through Elim Doc My only counter argument to that is that it would have to be while only one elim is alive. Aside from what Araris already mentioned that it's not an issue so long as there is village suspicion of more than one elim left, there's the issue of puppeteering. Maybe this is my always suspicious side coming out, but the doc isn't exactly reliable for knowing exactly who actually submitted the action (it's not like the color/font system is locked in). I do think there is argument that could be made for submitting via the doc when you have one elim standing, though, especially if the village is blatantly attempting the "who logged in" tactic.
  2. Day Eight: The Sting of Forgetting Somewhere out in the mists, agents of the enemy remained. Whether they were of the New Empire or Spiked, Oleinda wasn’t sure. She only knew that too few of their core resistance remained. She checked the charts, reviewing the available allomancers. At least there were recruits, possibly even some with undiscovered allomancy still. That was unlikely, though. After everything the people of Tyrian Falls had endured—especially the skaa—if any of them held allomantic potential, surely they would have been broken by now. What else would they have to experience to unlock their skills? Oleinda sighed, pushing away from the desk to stand in the door and listen to the night, dreading the inevitable sounds of death she knew would come. After all, they had been heard across Tyrian Falls every night for too long. Barney, clutching his magnifying glass, walked through the mists that had settled into the streets. He couldn’t remember if that was a normal occurrence, but no one else seemed bothered by them. So he continued following the trail. Searching for… He wasn’t certain, actually. But he was confident he would know when he found it. Deep in his gut—which he’d learned to trust, even when he couldn’t trust his mind—he knew he’d find whatever it was soon. Something caught his eye through the magnifying glass. A slight change in color on the cobblestones. A splash of a reddish-brown amid the gray ash. Barney approached carefully, then knelt down, peering at the spot through the glass. Blood. Dried blood, specifically. A tiny trail of it leading further into the mists. He wasn’t sure how, but he could read the direction of that trail. Slight deviations in how the blood—now at least a day old—had splashed based on the motion of its carrier. Was it someone who was injured, running from an attack? Or perhaps the attacker who’d gotten too much evidence on themselves as they fled a crime scene? He looked up and found he was near the barracks where Lion had been killed the night before. Perhaps this was a clue to finding the killer. Barney had to know. He followed the trail, careful not to disturb any of the evidence. The spatters became thinner, more spread out, until he was almost certain he’d lost the trail entirely. Then he spotted a small smear on the corner of a building. Hardly perceptible to anyone without a magnifying glass. He stood a little taller, proud of his remembering to keep that tool on hand. Around the corner, Barney found a small trap door which also showed tiny traces of dried blood. Excitement rushed through him. He’d done it. He’d found it! The lair of the Spiked! Certainly this had to be the place and thing he’d been detecting this whole time. Without even a moment's hesitation, Barney pulled open the hatch. Darkness awaited below, and he gladly entered. It was no more intimidating than the mists, after all. When he got to the bottom of the ladder, he turned and ran into something. No, someone. He’d found the Spiked! And forgotten that finding the Spiked was a risk of its own. An obsidian axe slammed into his chest, and the magnifying glass that he treasured fell to the floor and shattered. Amethyst Scorpion has been killed! They were a Villager. Day Eight has begun! The turn will end on Thursday, January 25th at 6:00 PM PT/ Friday, January 26th at 2 a.m. GMT / 1 p.m. AEDT. Player List: PMs are closed!
  3. The army was on the horizon and there were still Spiked among them causing problems. Afandor sighed, leaning back in his chair as he waited for his turn to patrol. He itched to go out and start right away, but Oleinda had insisted he rest. And she was right, of course. He sighed again, foot bouncing nervously as his stomach turned. Something was off about that night. “You can’t save everyone,” she said. “They’d make it easier if they’d stop falsely claiming to be powerful allomancers.” They sat outside her place, watching the swirling mists and listening to the night. Even if he were going to rest, he wouldn't’ be completely cut off from the dangers and a chance to save a life. He also trusted Oleinda would keep her tin burning, just as he kept his steel burning to watch for signs of moving metal. Not that it would help against the Spiked. “What do you think of Saffron’s claim?” Oleinda asked. Afandor shrugged. “Doesn’t matter what I think. It put a large target on their back.” Oleinda shifted, ear turning towards the center of town. “There’s something happening that way.” “I’ll go check it out,” Afandor said as he dropped a coin. “Anything specific?” “Shouting, maybe?” She paused for another moment. “Sounds like Zee, if I’m not mistaken.” Afandor Pushed upward, arching over the roofs and using their nails to guide him in the direction Oleinda had indicated. It didn’t take long—only two streets over he saw Zee, the claimed coinshot, locked in a fight with a cloaked figure. The glint of obsidian knives caught Afandor’s attention as the figure struck out at Zee with unnatural speed. Without another thought, Afandor flipped a coin in front of him and Pushed it at the figure. The figure recoiled, dropping the knife as the coin struck his arm. Blood sprayed across the cobbled street and Zee punched the figure in the face. But it did not slow the figure. He drew another knife, throwing it towards Afandor as he turned again on Zee. Afandor jumped off the roof and Pushed off one of the pieces of metal to his left, launching himself sideways down the street just enough to get out of the way of the knife. Zee was holding his own. Surprisingly well, actually, considering he faced a figure who seemed to have no end to their obsidian knife collection. The figure wielded two blades again, slashing them towards Zee who barely dodged in time. He was slowing down quickly, and the knives were getting closer and closer. The figure stabbed forward. Not where Zee was—but where he was going. Afandor wasn’t prepared. Something tugged at his belt. A single coin ripped through the bag, flying toward the fight. It struck the figure’s arm just before the knife hit Zee. Afandor looked up and saw Saffron dropping down from a roof, falling from a path that would have put the figure right between Afandor’s coins and the Lurcher. This had to end, though. Zee had fallen to the ground and the figure—despite the injuries, was not backing down. Bracing himself on the walls behind him, Afandor threw his coin pouch at the figure and Pushed, flaring his steel as it struck. He grunted as his body was compressed between his two targets, but the figure was no match for a whole wall built to withstand another Scimon Tlag incident. The figure sailed into the mists. Saffron followed quickly, chasing down their target. The sound of tearing fabric ripped through the night, and Afandor’s anchor in front of him scattered. The force of his push on the wall behind threw him forward so violently he nearly slammed into a building at the opposite end of the street. The fabric of his coin pouch lay torn open on the cobbled street and the coins had scattered in all directions. Some had hit walls and shattered windows as they glanced off their original target. Then he spotted something else in the street, dark blood pooling beneath it. Saffron, the Lurcher. A blood-soaked coin sat a few feet away, having torn through the poor Iguana’s throat. Another had struck the heart. Saffron Iguana was killed! They were a Village Lurcher! Quartz Zebra was attacked but survived! Day Five has begun! The turn will end on Tuesday, January 16th at 6:00 PM PT/ Wednesday, January 17th at 2 a.m. GMT / 1 p.m. AEDT. Player List:
  4. Night Three: Dragonfire [write up to be added soon] Having called the open house council meeting to order, Varn was about to open the floor to public discussion and policy requests when he paused. Three of the candidates for being Spiked hadn’t shown up to the meeting. “Quagmire? Barrrrrrrg? Nalthian??” Silence in the hall. He turned to Linaan. “Intelligence Linaan, if you would kindly retrieve them.” From a box under her chair, Linaan retrieved her official council skull, hyoid bone, and skeletal hand and enveloped them in a spiked chunk of her flesh. Linaan Prime left the room as Linaan II’s body began to take form as a human head and partial neck capable of sensing and speaking, connected to the hand with a spike-filled muscular tendril. Multiple members of the audience and even a couple council members blanched at the sight. “I submit a motion to decide on today’s execution while Linaan collects our stragglers,” Thur offered. The cheering of the crowd overpowered any calls to second the motion, and Varn acquiesced to the town’s bloodlust. “Accepted. Do I hear any nominations for the axe?” Four names were thrown out. “Sasha! She should have died last night!” “Dragon tried to kill her!” “Thesaurus is too trusted for being so quiet!” “Samwise is lying to us!” “Bring forth the accused!” Varn called out. The four hapless townsfolk, including one dog, were dragged in front of the crowd. “Now everyone. Stand in corner 1 if you want Sasha to die, 2 for Dragon, 3 for Thesaurus, and 4 for Samwise,” Varn said, pointing to the respective corners of the room. The crowd pushed and shoved its way into their preferred corners. Once everyone had finished moving, the votes were close, but it was clear Sasha was the preferred victim. The three survivors relaxed. Before Varn could announce this, Linaan II spoke up, channeling the voice of her other self. “I need medical assistance for two knifed townsfolk, southeast gate.” Instinctively, three of Bartleby’s assistants ran out the door, bringing the votes between Sasha and Dragon to a dead tie. Varn hesitated, and in that brief moment, the desperate Sasha turned and kicked Dragon in the ribs as hard as she could. The dog fulfilled his dearest wish, soaring through the air freed from gravity for a brief moment, eaten clips spitting from his mouth in a burst of fire. “Coinshot!,” someone yelled and everybody ducked to avoid getting pelted with metal. The moment ended, and Dragon smashed into the wall with a sickening CRUNCH!, shattering every bone in his body. Everybody stared at the destroyed dog for a minute, and were only brought out of their reverie when Linaan II announced the death of all three fugitives. “Right,” Varn announced, still shaken. “Since we are all now accounted for, let’s begin the session. We have three proposals to vote on. All three will be announced and we’ll vote on them in one hour. Finance Sidor?” Sidor announced her proposal to subsidize war production. “Defense Afandor,” Varn called. He called for any willing citizen not required for food or military production to enlist in the defense forces. “Mayor Eldao, on behalf of Tyrian Falls,” Varn called. She announced Tyrian Falls’ official declaration of war before stating that she would seek a negotiated end of hostilities to hold off the New Empire’s conquest. After all three proposals were completed, Varn dismissed everyone for a break before voting began. Linaan Prime exited the council room, feeling a bit woozy with having to maintain such a small secondary body. Being used to this, she swished her tail and shook herself off, following the most distinctive scent of the three? fugitives she’d been sent to hunt down. Quagmire certainly had more than one body that didn’t smell like humans, but how many people they counted as, she wasn’t sure. As the trail led her to the southeast exit, she began to run faster, leg muscles pushed past to point where a human’s would strain or break. They couldn’t be allowed to leave Tyrian Falls and report to the New Empire’s army. She caught sight of the exit just in time to see not just Quagmire but Barrrrrrrg and the one known only as Nalthian trying to rush past the guards at the gate while their number was reduced by the council meeting. “Stop them,” she roared, and the guards intercepted the trio. Barrrrrrrg started to explain that they’d been sent on a reconnaissance mission, but the guards clearly didn’t believe them since such a mission would have required approval from Linaan. Cursing by the Lord Ruler’s name, Barrrrrrrg drew an obsidian dagger and sliced belly wounds across the startled Nalthian and Quagmire, belly for the former at least. While Nalthian was left with an urgent but not fatal wound, the blow solidly struck only one of the three strange mammalian creatures that composed Quagmire’s body and barely nicked the other two. As the guards panicked, reeling in shock, Barrrrrrrg rushed out into the mists, heedless of the danger. Linaan Prime used her other body to announce “I need medical assistance for two knifed townsfolk, southeast gate,” before following Barrrrrrrg into the mists. Barrrrrrrg had planned to deal with the guards who feared the mists, but not a Kandra who still remembered living within them as a mistwraith. The obligator ran as quickly as they could, zig-zagging to avoid pursuit, but such efforts were futile against Linaan Prime’s cat-like hearing and olfaction. Within a minute, she pounced on her fleeing prey, bringing them to the ground. “Don’t run,” Linaan Prime purred, fangs hovering over Barrrrrrrg’s neck. “I’m not going to hurt you. The council just wants to ask a few questions.” “Poison,” Barrrrrrrg gasped out, mouth foaming up. “Enough for-” they fell silent, and Linaan Prime noticed a cut Barrrrrrrg had made across their own neck with the dagger. She hissed at the sight, then picked up Barrrrrrrg’s cooling corpse and dashed back to town. Her only consolation upon seeing the poisoned corpses of Quagmire and Nalthian was that one fewer Spiked would threaten Tyrian Falls. Mint Heron has been exed! They were a Villager Vote Count: Amber Vulture (4): Amethyst Scorpion, Fuchsia Ostrich, Mint Heron, Pearl Chameleon, Salmon Meerkat Mint Heron (4): Amber Vulture, Oxblood Beagle, Quartz Zebra, Saffron Iguana Magenta Albatross (3): Chartreuse Penguin, Opal Lion, Sage Kangaroo Pearl Chameleon (1): Coral Swan Inactivity Indigo Weasel has died due to inactivity! They were a Village Smoker Melon Dingo has died due to inactivity! They were a Spiked Seeker Plum Rhinoceros has died due to inactivity! They were a Village Soother If Cream Tuatara does not post by the end of this turn, they will be removed from the game. To avoid being removed, please post in the thread at least once every two cycles. Night Three has begun! The turn will end on Thursday, January 11th at 6:00 PM PT/ Friday, January 12th at 2 a.m. GMT / 1 p.m. AEDT. Player List: PMs are Open
  5. Vote Count: Amber Vulture (4) - Fuchsia Ostrich, Mint Heron, Pearl Chameleon, Salmon Meerkat Mint Heron (4) - Amber Vulture, Opal Lion, Oxblood Beagle, Quartz Zebra Magenta Albatross (3) - Amethyst Scorpion, Chartreuse Penguin, Sage Kangaroo Mauve Crocodile (1) - Saffron Iguana Pearl Chameleon (1) - Coral Swan
  6. Here is the updated vote count (Tallybot isn't catching votes on Kangaroo) Mint Heron (5) - Amber Vulture, Chartreuse Penguin, Oxblood Beagle, Quartz Zebra Amber Vulture (3) - Fuchsia Ostrich, Mint Heron, Salmon Meerkat Pearl Chameleon (2) - Coral Swan, Pearl Chameleon Magenta Albatross (1) - Amethyst Scorpion Mauve Crocodile (1) - Saffron Iguana Sage Kangaroo (1) - Opal Lion
  7. Vote Count: Mint Heron (5) - Amber Vulture, Amethyst Scorpion, Chartreuse Penguin, Oxblood Beagle, Quartz Zebra Amber Vulture (2) - Fuchsia Ostrich, Mint Heron Pearl Chameleon (2) - Coral Swan, Pearl Chameleon Sage Kangaroo (2) - Opal Lion, Saffron Iguana EDIT: Tallybot and I don't agree, so I'm going to verify in a moment.
  8. Day Three: Wax Seals and Dying Flames “How goes the patrol tonight?” Afandor had crossed paths with Sasha de Vries during his own nightly assignment. Overlap in districts was key to reducing attacks, and having a detective such as Sasha was helpful to their cause. They needed to keep an eye out for both the approaching army and the threat from within. Even though he wasn’t a Tineye, even his extra boost as a coinshot was better than nothing. Sasha seemed distracted, looking around and through the mists. “Nothing so far, but…” Her voice trailed off and she cocked her head, looking down the darkened street. She flexed her hand, moving it towards her belt, and Afandor stiffened, unsure if he should be concerned about her or some unseen threat in the mists that she could sense. Then Afandor saw the moving blue lines. He cursed himself for lowering his own defenses and flared his steel. Metal coins clinked and scattered across the street at their feet. Afandor grabbed Sasha and Pushed off one of those coins just as another came shooting from the darkness. He held on just long enough to get them both under the awning of a nearby building. “Do you have metal on you?” “No.” She tilted her head again, listening to the movement around them, then drew a glass knife from her boot. “Good. I’ll draw them out. You try to get close enough to identify them.” Afandor pulled a few coins from his pouch and then shot the bag off into the night. But no other blue lines moved. The night had gone still. Sasha crept around the corner of the building, so Afandor walked into the street, following the path of his own coins and watching each blue line for any slight movement. Yet there was nothing. He watched, listened and waited for several minutes, but he’d lost track of whoever had attacked them. “Any idea who that might have been?” Sasha appeared from the mist, shaking her head. “Any number of people these days. The threat of war and Spiked have everyone on edge.” “Unfortunately true.” And unfortunately common for Tyrian Falls. Maihler folded down the flap of the last letter and held the pale wax to the candleflame. He waited for it to pool before pressing down on it with the charred leather cover of a book. Painting murals in the streets and alleys of Tyrian Falls had been an obligation, and one that had hung even more heavily on his shoulders since Tune's untimely death. You planned for your death, Maihler thought. That was all. You accepted that you weren't going to get out alive. What you did, you didn't do for yourself, but for the many other lives, the dozens of other candleflames in the flourishing enclave of Tyrian Falls. He regarded the stack of letters steadily. He'd always been a good planner, one way or another, though he'd been slipping up lately. Tired, and as much as he'd felt an affinity to the tales of leaders from the last few Spiked crises, it wasn't the kind of thing he wanted to do. Letters. Small connections from the past to the present. The way you talked to the dead, unless you believed in Aureole. Unless you believed in the heaven at the end of the continent. And then there was art: how you preserved memory. How you made sure there was something that lasted, something that endured when you would not, something to keep your friends warm on the cold lonely days ahead. It was quite time, wasn't it? Wax dripped. Paint dried on the wall, was still drying. He'd done so many of them over the past days, trying to communicate his thoughts. This one was meant for himself, all things considered. Searching for the Spiked felt like chasing at shadows on the wall. The yellow duck frowned, arms raised in the air, as though it was trying to lift a burden. Or an immeasurably heavy rock. It was cute and it was whimsical. If he died, that was what he wanted to have last done. If he— Wax dripped, running deep crimson. The candleflame flickered, and then blew out entirely. Amber Vulture was attacked but survived! Azure Mouse has been killed! They were a Village Tineye! Inactivity Warnings! If Indigo Weasel, Melon Dingo, or Plum Rhinoceros do not post by the end of this turn, they will be removed (or replaced pending a large influx of pinch-hitters). As a general reminder, the inactivity filter is in place for anyone who does not post in the thread for two cycles. Tineye Messages: Player List: PMs are Open
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