Szeth Pancakes

The prison in the Warbreaker prologue!

Gets whaletaur. Inserts RoW.

Ne’ik sighed, slumping down on the cot. He unwrapped the granola bar and took a bite. It was good. If Ne’ik had a prisoner, he wouldn’t have given them granola bars. Now’s my chance to escape, he thought. They’re all gone. But how am I going to get rid of this cord? Ten minutes later, he’d gotten absolutely nowhere. He’d tried untying the knot; sawing at the cord with one of his tail barbs, then a piece of broken pottery; and even trying to bite it off with his sharpened canines, but nothing worked. The undertuck Elya had placed wasn’t budging, and he hadn’t even made a dent in the cord. He kicked the cot in frustration. I’m going to spend the rest of my life tied to a cot in an abandoned hospital, he thought. He kicked the cot again, harder. It rattled with the force of it, so he decided not to kick it again, instead sitting down on it and taking a sulking bite out of the half-finished granola bar. Messing with the knot some more couldn’t hurt, he thought. He put his foot up on the cot, and twisted the cord towards him. Now, let’s see here… He gasped, a bit louder than was probably necessary. The undertuck had slipped free — most likely when he’d been kicking the cot. He grinned, and began to work.

Not on a school night. And I’m actually pretty good at math :)) TPBM thinks going to bed at 22:00/10 PM is reasonable for a school night.

But… but… wahk waroh roko!

bruh

That is literally the exact aaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaa aa aaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaa aaaa aaaaaaaaa aaaaaaa aaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaa a aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaa aaaa! 1289

I’m not screaming. It’s aaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaa aaaaa. 1280

*wins 35,304*

The Way of Kings - 6 Oathbringer - 8 Mistborn: The Final Empire - 3 Hero of Ages - 6 Bands of Mourning - 10 Secret History - 10 Warbreaker - 10 The Emperor's Soul - 7

Would you’d say you’d recommend it? I looked at the Fandom page and it looks very interesting.

It’s the opposite for me

@The Unknown Aon

Hehe I stole your question

Ooh, I’m up there on the waitlist. I’m not quite sure I can run it now, though it might be the best time to… I’ll definitely be able to sometime in February. @|TJ| @Illwei @Tani @Fifth Scholar

“Sit tight here, my good friend,” Velen said, walking away from the couch, unrolling the rug, and opening the secret hatch. Velen’s training, combined with an Alchemical earpiece that amplified their hearing, had made them an expert at spotting liars, and there had been no odd twitches or quavers in the man’s voice as he’d told them his purpose. Everyone had a tic, even if it was too small to hear with the un-enhanced human ear. So Velen could be relatively sure that the man wasn’t a spy for the nobility, or a spy for a rival criminal organization. They walked down into the darkness of their basement office, shutting and locking the hatch behind them. They walked through their office to the door behind their desk, unlocking it and swinging it open. Behind it lay a concrete room with six blood-spattered sets of manacles hanging from the wall. Beneath each of them, there was a reddish-brown bloodstain set in the concrete. Only one of the sets of manacles was currently occupied; by a brown-haired, light-skinned man with rivulets of dried blood running down his bare chest from cuts Velen had made a few hours before. He was gagged with a black handkerchief, which was muffling the screeching emanating from his mouth, and tears ran down his face, dripping on the floor. An Alchemical blackspike - a device that caused a massive amount of pain to anyone who was unlucky enough to be subjected to it - was shoved in his leg. Velen had put it there three hours before, when they’d left for the Espara job. Hopefully the man had used that time to think over their questions, and come to a reasonable conclusion that was different from the bullcrap he’d been spouting before Velen had left. They yanked the blackspike out, and the man’s screams immediately ceased. They tore out his gag, which was covered in spittle, tossing it on the ground. “Are you ready to talk? What do you know about the murder of House Ipara?” The man let out a soft wail. “I don’t know anything!” It was a lie. When questioning the man earlier, Velen had noticed his voice slightly quavered at the end of each vowel whenever he lied. “Persistent, are you?” Velen growled. “Tell me… which of your eyes do you like the most?” The man wailed, thrashing. “Please, no… please!” Velen held his left eye open with one of their hands, and reached for it with the other. “Wait! Stop! I’ll… I’ll talk. Ah… Khusa Asou. They… they’d know something!” Velen sighed. The man was just telling them what they wanted to hear. But… he had a point - Khusa might know something about their parents. He was one of the most connected and important people in the Arcallan underground; he had to at least have heard about the incident. Velen sighed, closing their fingers around the man’s eyeball (“Wait! Stop! I talked!”) and tearing it out, its blood-soaked root trailing behind it. They sighed, tossed the slimy thing onto the floor, shoved the blackspike back into the man’s leg, and shoved the gag back into his mouth. They walked out of the dungeons and up the stairs, stopping at their office sink to wash the man’s blood off their hands and face. They unlocked the hatch, and strode towards the telegraph room, ignoring their guest. “Tip!” they called. “We’re leaving to meet my new ‘friend’.”

Welcome to the Shard, my good friend. Who is your least favorite cosmere character?

@Channelknight Fadran

*aaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaa aaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa* 1278

@Fallapede