BlueWildRye

a world-renowned player of

896. Start telling people randomly about how this thread used to be way shorter.

@Vyzkel @strmblsd @TwinSouls @TheFrugalWizard IDK

Nelan choked, trying to wipe the smoke away from around his face. Their horses had been spooked, but luckily they hadn't run away. Sutter and his horse, unfortunately, had disappeared entirely, but they had abandoned the rest of the group some time before this. Nelan growled, then yelled in frustration when he looked at the back of Jarl. The witch had vanished, ropes laying broken on the horse's back. "This is a trick the demon king gave him!" Nelan shouted, "One of his contraptions that creates smoke and chaos! He will be nearby, I know it. Back to the town!" The witch hunters eyed him, then galloped off in the opposite direction. "COME BACK, YOU FOOLS! WE MUST CAPTURE THIS WITCH!!!" But they had already disappeared on the horizon, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake, which mixed with the remaining wisps of smoke. Nelan sighed, then kicked his horse and began loping back to the town where they had captured Rye. The little witch had a purpose there, he knew it.

Sutter laughed. "I'll pay you double, then, although t'wasn't my fault for all that. Ol' Nelan, he's the real fervent one. I'm just his cousin. Surprised they didn't notice me sneakin' off. They should be back in Issor by now. I think the witch has about 6 days left to live now, so if you wanna watch you can leave on the 15th." He pulled out a bag of coins and dropped a few into his palm, showing them to Robert.

One of the witch hunters walked in again, without a hood or the rest of his gang. He sat down at a table and shouted for ale.

Yes!

Cosmere:

The Dog and the Dragon?

What's going on rn???

You like Brandon Sanderson? You're a nerd.

"Uhh... Rye. That is my name. Do you like sacrifices? I mean, not like, sacrificing people, but surely you've had interest in the Aztecs and that kind of stuff, right?" Rye resisted the urge to reach his hand into his robes and rub the golden bowl; he'd been doing that subconsciously for the past week now.

You have only tasted the store bought cherry tomatoes, then? I swear the organic ones are sooooooo good, we have them growing in our garden during the summer and fall.

Nelan scratched his square, stubby chin as he jumped onto Jarl, his flea-bitten horse, truly a brute of an animal. The rest of the witch hunters mounted their own horses. The servant of evil lay limply on the back of Jarl, bound tightly in ropes. "It's about a day's journey from here to Issor, boss," Sutter said from behind him. "You sure you don't want to stay here a little, eat some food, rest up, talk to some ladies..." "We leave now," Nelan said simply, "This witch must be dealt with." He gripped his club tightly, sliding it into his belt. Then he grabbed his reins and kicked Jarl into a lope. The witch hunters sighed, and followed suit. The witch hunters didn't notice as Rye's eyes opened slightly, and his lip curved upwards into a faint grin.

I would most certainly be interested in joining. Canticle Hunger Games sound fun but I think the book is still too new to do one around, so imma go with First of the Sun.

Rye tried to wriggle out of the crude ropes the mob had bound him with, but to no avail. He snarled and tried to bite one of them instead. "SEE? SPAWN OF THE DEMON KING!" the leader of the witch hunters yelled, hitting Rye over the head with a club. The captive slumped unconscious. "I apologize for the ruckus," he says to the innkeeper. "The name's Nelon, by the way." He raised his voice so that everyone could hear. "I invite you to come to Issor to watch this witch's public execution in 1 week's time! We will see this land purged of evil, I promise!" The rest of the witch hunters cheered, then began walking into the distance, dragging Rye with them. Inside the inn, a casual observer might now notice the black soot stains covering the ceiling and upper walls. The paper Rye gave Jolane was folded and yellowed with age, but the things scrawled onto it were clear. A map of the town the inn was in, with a red "X" marking a spot nearby. In cramped, messy handwriting beneath were these words: Here you will find my cache, where I have hidden the weapons. To whomever I have given this paper to, I would like you to uncover this hideout and secure my inventions. Make sure the witch hunters never suspect you or find the cache themselves. I suppose if you are reading this, I have been finally captured and am bound for the stake. Well, I bid you farewell. From, Rye

GRANTED, I GET NINJA'D. I wish Monday was off this week.

The leader of the witch hunters scratched his head, then responded, "I know this witch. He may have the villainous mind to craft these abominations, but he is no good at quick thinking. He must have traded his soul, and by extension his decision making, for this knowledge! This is no gift of the Light God. I've seen it, and I've seen it in action. It kills... horribly. Do you know what else he created? Strange, small capsules that create explosions of fire and smoke, tearing living flesh from the bone!" The leader of the witch hunters laughed. "Hah! That is a good idea, lady. Men, search this inn!" The mob dispersed to look for Rye. Rye himself whimpered, then slowly crawled out from under the table, hoping no one would notice. Then, he got up and ran, screaming as loud as he could, arms flailing in the air. Everyone who saw him noticed his eyes, almost entirely blood red from lack of sleep. The witch hunters shouted and gave chase, knocking over chairs, tables, and glasses of rum in their pursuit of the "witch". Smoke ominously filled the room, and the torches' flames seemed to grow higher and higher, as if they had become filled with anticipation of the chase. Rye ran up the stairs and into the first room he found, breaking down the door without any regard for privacy or... well, anything really. He paused as he saw the young woman inside, then produced a small sheet of paper from his pockets and threw it at her. "DON'T LET THEM FIND IT. DON'T SHOW IT TO ANYONE." @Spark of Hope

Granted, but it's already been granted before, probably. I wish strmblsd would make his "you lost the game!!!!" thing on his signature smaller and less noticeable.

Under the table, Rye was completely still. The hooded men turned to Ma'tani with gruff faces. "There is a witch, a heathen, a DEVIL-WORSHIPPER IN YOUR MIDST!" one yelled. "He came from the village of Issor, goes by Rye. He created an... unholy contraption. It resembles and kills like a crossbow, only much more deadly, shooting little steel spheres and creating a sound like thunder. An instrument of demons!" Rye snickered softly, a quiet, muffled sound, but made no more noises.

Have you been working on this book any more?

Here are the next three chapters of A Tale of Tragedy Inn, for those who have been waiting... two months...

Rye suddenly arose and jumped to his feet. "THEY'RE GOING TO BURN ME AT THE STAKE!!!!!" he screamed, then turned around and ran straight into the closed door. He staggered back, then ducked under the nearest table and threw his cloak over himself. A few moments later, the door opened, revealing a few angry men with black hoods and blazing torches.

The Redspine followed the main group, unsure of what was happening but not wanting to be left behind. That was weird. Its hunger, its bloodlust which had driven it from the moment it'd been born... was gone. Not a trace left.

Rye walked over to Mike and Erin, whistling out of tune. "How's it going, guys?" @Experience @The Aspiring Archivist He thought he could feel something far beneath the ground, a thirst for blood. A... sacrifice? Maybe I could find my way down there, if I knew how... He decided not to speak of it to anyone, for obvious reasons.