Spren of Kindness

Welcome to the Shard! Who is your favorite character in Era II?

I love that idea.

“I am an artist,” Wit said. “I should thank you not to demean me by insisting my art must be trying to accomplish something.”

Martin climbs up the ladder, glancing along the wall to see if anyone sees them.

A couple times. I like to skate across hardwood floors in socks like an Edgedancer.

I put my ketek for him on the wall next to him in his Bridge Four uniform.

My implausible theory is that it has something to do with the vision Dalinar sent Kaladin right before the Fourth Ideal. If I'm being serious, I have no idea. But it's definitely coming back.

I used to think he looked like Kaladin.

Thank you!

23) Just because you could dance on a skyscraper spire doesn't mean you should.

I found a WOB that kind of relates to this as far as a conversation between Kaladin and Kelsier. Probably if Kaladin ended up on Scadrial, he'd try to make things better. It might get him killed, depending on what exactly he tried to do, but he'd try. I'd say more but I'm on a time limit.

I am not! TPBM knows how to work with wood.

That is exactly what happened.

Oh yeah, I definitely do this. I live in dire fear of being confronted for being dumb.

I'm pretty certain I just sat there for three minutes before I kept going. And then I was terrified.

"I see. Would you like me to scout ahead of the group?" Martin lets the rapier's voice overtake his own, letting himself sink a bit. It will be a while before he can come back, so he might as well rest.

"Yes, as hard as possible, please." Oh. Right, they don't know what locks are. "Locks have a trigger. This one - " Martin cuts off as Fadran's hand collides with his cheek. It hurts. Quite a bit. And then, a familiar numbness settles over a corner of his mind. "Thank you," he says. His voice is different, smoother. Blanker. The rapier is free, then. "What do you need me to do?"

"Right. Someone slap me, then." Best to get this part over with quickly.

Martin eyes her suspiciously. No one does that when they hear about a lock. No one. Locks are valuable and rare, and they're supposed to be used. "I have no problem using my lock," he lies.

"A lock, where I come from, is a kind of... mindset, accomplished by a type of surgery. They're rather rare. I have three, and one of them is geared towards missions like this." He forces himself to keep going. "I am... a bit messed up. That's why I have locks at all, even though locks are incredibly hard to form. When done right, they can create a sort of second skill set and thought pattern. It's basically a fail safe in case I can't do something myself." He bites his lip, not hard enough to draw blood, but close to. "If you want to get in there, one of my locks is meant for quick infiltration, and I think it would be nice to choose to use it." He doesn't really want to use it at all, but he's learnt his lesson, many times, about using all your resources.

Martin closes his eyes and says it. "Then you'll need one of my locks." Everything he's tried to pretend about for the last months falls down with those words, shaky scaffolding ripped away.

"How fast are you thinking?" Martin asks.

If it's a blend, then I vote 8 and 8. And you're absolutely right, I completely forgot about that. Ruin feels like a seven, though. Not sure why.