The Awakened Salad

Yup, there’s a quest.

Maybe he wants to do it in secret. He’ll say it was an accident. Or maybe he’s waiting for everyone to be together... He snapped back into the conversation. Son? Surely this man wasn’t much older than he was. “Not really,” Avocado said, the admission reminding him how easy it would be for the others to... “Who are you?” he asked, to steer his mind away from those thoughts.

“I’m—” Avren stopped himself, noticing his curt tone. With an even voice, he continued. “I’m fine, thank you.” Should he go seek out the transparent man? No, that was foolish. Actually, where was he? Avren scanned the trees, but couldn’t see him anymore. He probably went off to tell someone. It was only a matter of time now.

Why is he looking at me? Avren glanced away, and was relieved when Ara began to introduce herself. This newcomer wasn’t as terrifying as the transparent one, but Avren had gathered too much attention for one day. Still focused on the transparent man, his thoughts kept spinning around, before landing on a single question. It repeated over and over in his mind. How does he know? How does he know? How does he know?

Avren jumped, shocked back into the moment by Ara’s voice. When had she approached him? “I-I’m...” He took in a breath. He had to keep up appearances. “I’m... all right. Just some unpleasant memories.” It wasn’t completely a lie. The panic within him only grew louder though, beating like a second heartbeat. Should he leave? No, they would catch him, and it would be too suspicious. The only thing he could do was go forwards. “We should probably see what’s going on,” he said to Ara, and began to walk towards the group, even though everything inside him screamed to run.

Avren flinched when the should-be-dead man looked his way. He took an involuntary step back, boots crunching in the snow. There was something knowing in that man’s gaze, something that distilled itself into a single thought that sent ice through Avren’s veins. I know what you are. If — no — when this man joined them, he’d tell the others. Why wouldn’t he? He’d tell them and Avren would die. He ducked behind a tree, struggling to control his breathing. He saw the Shadow pointing his sword at him, hatred burning in his eyes. He saw his parents, their expressions distant as they ignored his pleas. He saw Dariya, stony-faced as she ordered him out of the tavern and onto the street. It had been a mistake to come on this journey. And now he would pay the price.

Avren watched the Shadow and Orpheus head into the trees. He bit back a pang of jealously at their skills. They had probably spotted a new companion, or a new threat. Still, he was curious, and began to follow them at a distance. When he caught up, a man stood in the snow, looking frightened. At a closer glance, he appeared transparent. Avren narrowed his eyes, noticing something else. His senses told him that this man was dead, so why was he standing right in front of him?

When you see part of a license plate that says ATI and for a moment you wonder why Ruin is driving a car.

Mirette remained standing just inside the tavern, unable to move any further. She was too far away to pick out individual conversations, only hearing fragmented words. Common sense told her to turn around, leave and never return. But Raven wouldn’t accept that, and besides, she had nowhere else to go. She glanced at the Inquisitor again. Those metal eyes were more piercing than they should’ve been. But... if it truly was an Inquisitor, it hadn’t harmed anyone yet. Steeling herself, she walked over and took a seat at the bar, beginning to eavesdrop as she waited for the barkeep. @Ookla the Stick

The carriage rolled to a stop outside The Iron Wheel, and Mirette suppressed a grimace at the sight of the shoddy tavern. Raven expected her to go in there? This entire trip out to the Roughs, she was sure, was a reminder. The message was clear: I still control you. Mirette smothered her irritation as the coachman helped her down onto the street. That was how Raven wanted her to feel. So blinded by anger that she would forget herself and act rashly. No, she had plans of her own, and she would not let his taunting get to her. As the carriage drove away, Mirette adopted a casual position, and strode into The Iron Wheel. The demure, naive noblewoman wouldn’t fare well in this lawless land. She needed to be firm, to show she wasn’t just an easy mark. Hopefully she struck the right balance. As she entered, she fought off another grimace at the state of the place. Toppled chairs, a man lying on the floor — by the Survivor, had a fight broken out already? Her mouth went dry at the sight of the Inquisitor. She stood in the doorway, unwilling to continue forwards, but not prepared to back away just yet. What in the Survivor’s name had she gotten herself into?

I’d love a 2D animated Stormlight show, personally. Roshar is such an alien planet, and I think animation would be able to bring out the setting really beautifully. Unless the budget is massive, I don’t know if a live action Stormlight production would be able to capture the majesty of Roshar, with its unique flora and fauna, not to mention the spren, which seem practically made for animation. And I think Shadesmar would look fantastic illustrated (especially those highstorms).

Awesome! Three Houses is one of my favourite games, what house did you pick?

They do both! At night since there’s no sunlight they breathe oxygen instead

*hands you an envelope under the table*

This is merely a coincidence