'Understanding Mennet Farrsolin and his actions can only happen with some information about his lineage.', Lord Penrod wrote. He briefly paused to consider his next sentence and dipped his quill in an inkwell in his desk.
'When Alendi was conquering kingdoms in an attempt to unite humanity against the Deepness, Lord Farrsolin’s father, Corvan Trevelyan ruthlessly took advantage of each kingdom’s growing need for weapons. He produced them by the thousand, and sold them in such a way to prolong the war and bolster his own profits. His life was finally ended when Alendi took it upon himself to cut off the hand that was feeding his enemies.'
He hesitated here. Was that acceptable enough? The Lord Ruler didn't want his own origins to be known by others, but was mentioning the name of the supposed Hero of Ages allowed? Hmm... No, he'd probably prefer less connection to the world that was. He crossed all instances out and replaced them with 'The Lord Ruler' instead.
Then there was also the question of whether it was kind enough to Lord Farrsolin. He wanted to be truthful whenever possible, but he was always in mind that he was being paid for this specifically to write a glowing account of the House. Well, he'd appreciate the 'ruthless' nature. Probably not the fact that his ancestors had worked against The Lord Ruler though. Hmm. he'd have to think about it before the next draft. Perhaps he could twist it a little with the next part, and show him to be more honourable. He put quill to paper again.
'Mennet Farrsolin recognized at an early age that he could not leave a lasting legacy in the world by dealing traitorously with his contemporaries. Indeed, he opposed his father’s methods so strongly that by the age of fifteen he erased his name from the Trevelyan family records and set out to establish his own family on principles of honesty and directness.'
Yes, that was better. Much better. It didn't ignore the truth of what happened, but instead emphasised his devotion to the new regime and to his principles. Much more positive, and probably more lucrative for him.
'Within the first several years of his rule as a High Lord of the Final Empire, Lord Farrsolin demonstrated his unwavering resolve to hold to his own standards. A conflict arose (the nature of which is not a matter of public record) that threatened to divide the nobility into two warring factions, and rather than capitalizing on an economic opportunity, House Farrsolin diffused the conflict at considerable risk to its own holdings. As a result, the first generation of Luthadel nobility was able to avoid any open conflict that might have seriously disrupted the fledgling Final Empire.'
He dipped the quill back in the inkwell, pleased with his work so far, and dropped it in as he coughed. He brought a hand to his mouth as he coughed. Getting phlegm on his work would not be good. When it had finally subsided, he lowed it back to the table. He sighed a little as he saw the blood in the centre of his hand. It was not the first time he'd seen that.
He called a servant for a towel, and took a new sheet of paper from the pile. After wiping his hand of blood, he took up the quill again. "I, Lord Sen Penrod, being of sound mind if not body..."
Aodhan Izenry stopped his horse before the gate of Urteau. It was foolish, perhaps, to get so close, but for a Mistborn he saw little issue with it. Let his wife worry all she liked. It would not deter him. Age may be lying heavily on his shoulders, but not so much that he couldn't best even his own highly trained soldiers in a fight. Allomancy was a great leveller with regards to that.
"Open the gates and bring out your rulers," he called up his demand. "I am the Mistborn Aodhan Izenry! You have heard of my conquering of Tathindwen! If you surrender, then the city and its people shall be spared!" He listened using tin to them discussing it above. Mistborn, named for how they traversed the mists of the night as though they were a part of it. It was a word on everyone's lips, these days, and one that evoked fear. They were almost reaching a mythological status, a fact he delighted in using whenever he could. He heard them discuss, and happy that his job was done, he let his horse return him to his army. They'd taken three cities so far without any difficulty. They'd be fools not to start a coup.
He was rather surprised when the arrow struck him in the back. He fell forwards onto his horse, dropping his spear but the pewter he constantly burned giving him the strength to withstand the pain. He immediately burnt steel and pressed on all the sources behind him that he could feel. He heard arrows clatter off the stone walls, but the hinges of the gate sent him catapulting off his horse. He landed on his back, the arrow snapping, hitting his head hard on the rocky ground. He grunted as he tried to push himself up.
Looking over to his army, which was already advancing, the medical part on their way to retrieve him, he burnt zinc. The Koloss were already his, he had already been granted them, but he wanted their rage. With a bellow of anger from them, they charged forward, knocking aside his own troops to get to the enemy. They reached the gates of the city and started to smash their way through however they could.
Lord Izenry felt himself being lifted onto a stretcher. The world went black for a while for him, and he woke up again in the surgical tent. One of his officers sat next to his bed, helmet in his hand.
"My Lord!" He said, jumping to attention and snapping a salute. "We have control of the town, though extensive damage has been done to it."
"Nevermind that," Lord Izenry muttered as he patted himself down. He felt weak, and while the arrow was gone from his body and now lying by the bed, there was still a pain there. He was still bleeding, it seemed. Hopefully the bandages would stop it soon. "Where are my vials?" he asked. It seemed he still had pewter to burn, however. Either it hadn't been long, or he'd been force-fed them.
"They were all smashed in your fall, My Lord," the officer explained. "Your daughter provided her own metals to ensure your safety. She is currently overseeing the takeover from the town." Lord Izenry turned his head towards the officer, his fist clenching. "From afar!" the officer added quickly, "from afar, my lord. I promise you, she never set foot on the battlefield."
Lord Izenry couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, though it hurt him slightly to do so. The arrow must have reached deeper than he had thought. His wife would be concerned, but this was always going to be his last little expedition out of Luthadel, one way or another. At least he was proven right about bringing his daughter. "Good," he said, sitting up despite his soldier's protests. "Take me into the city. I wish to see it with my own eyes."
"So here it is," one of Lord Artorius' soldiers said, with a certain amount of awe in his voice. "The end of the world..."
"Don't be so dramatic," his commanding officer said, though he too was shocked. "What should we do, Lord Artorius?"
Lord Artorius slowly raised his head to look across the desolate wastes before him. The ground was cracked and ruptured, and not even tough, hardly plant life could be seen. A layer of fine dust swept across the lifeless heath, causing many of his men to close their eyes to stop themselves being blinded by it. Lord Artorius did not, however. He just stared across the desert.
"My Lord?" The officer repeated. "I asked what we should-"
"There was a city, here." Lord Artorius said, cutting across him in a slow but self-assure voice. So many years it had been since he last breathed so freely. But, whatever the years did to him, he would never surrender his authority. "What happened to it?"
"...My guess would be that The Lord Ruler's Ascension damaged this area beyond repair."
"Hmm." Lord Artorius nodded a little and took a handkerchief out to mop his brow. It was so very warm here. "I wonder now if anyone else remembers its name... I knew people here, once. I don't suppose they survived, if the sun scoured the buildings down to dust."
"My Lord, should we start the return home?" The officer pressed. "There is nothing out here for us to find."
Another small nod. "Yes. I am content to have just seen this place again."
"Then we shall go immediately," the officer said, turning back to the troops and issuing commands.
"Not immediately," Lord Artorious said quietly. "Not immediately. Ha. Give an old hound a moment's rest, hm?" He sighed and gripped the reins of his horse slightly tighter, though it pained him slightly to do so. "I'm so tired," he added, as his vision started to haze over from the heat, and he started to sway in the saddle. "So very... tired." He leaned over the side of his horse again, and fell onto the ground with a thump.
"My Lord!" The first soldier was at his side. He carefully moved his Lord over onto his back, and then waved a hand in front of his face. There was no response, no flickering of eyes, no furrowing of brow, not even an intake of breath. He looked back at the officer.
"...Return home," the officer said quietly. "He'll want to be buried in his keep."
The Luthadel to the Northern Dominance, Farmost Dominance, Terris Dominance and Remote Dominance Canals have been built.
Urteau has been conquered!
The following children have been born: Garek Urbain (male), Fortuna Tormander (female), Cassandra Farrsolin (female), Aquilla Orielle (female). I am going to use a different coin from now on >>.
Generation 2: Shapes in the Mist
Turn 1
The funeral for Gamic Urbain was, like the man himself, flamboyant, expensive and full of wine. Garek hated the first two, but had to admit that the wine wasn't too bad. He wandered around the keep a few days after the funeral, occasionally swigging from the bottle in his hand.
Responsibility. He never intended to have responsibility like this. Wasn't that meant to be his older sister's thing? But no, she'd been married off to some bloody Garde - a man he was now forced to deal with on a weekly basis - which meant he had to be in charge of House Urbain. He drank another mouthful of wine, and as the bottle tilted upwards, saw something around the side which made him lower it again.
Was that his father, wandering around the Keep? He looked at the bottle in his hand. Either he was drinking too much, or he was drinking too little. Well, if it was too much, more wouldn't hurt, he thought as he drained the bottle. Lowering the bottle so he was holding the neck, he raised his arm and burnt pewter for the added strength and dexterity.
He hurled the bottle forward, and was rewarded by it smashing on his apparent father's head, the man collapsing to the floor. For a brief moment, Garek wondered if they'd accidentally buried his father alive and Gamic hadn't bothered to mention it when getting out of the coffin, but that was quickly put out of his mind when his father's body started to dissolve.
His 'father' split into a pile of bones, and a strange, ethereal gloopy substance, which reminded him of the Mistwraiths outside of Luthadel. But he'd never heard of them becoming the body of those whose bones they ate, they just made a skeleton. The creature seemed to be unharmed, but that wasn't surprising. It was almost impossible to hurt a Mistwraith.
As he got closer to it, his tin-enhanced eyes were able to take in the fact that it appeared to have some kind of metal sliver inside it. No, there was a second there was well. Definitely not a normal Mistwraith. It reminded him of the Koloss, in a way. His father always said that Koloss could be controlled. So what would happen if...
As soon as he burnt brass on the thing, it stopped moving. He was able to control it, it seemed. He smiled. The idea of a servant who obeyed his every whim and could in effect become a person was very appealing. What uses he could have for that.
A plate smashed. Garek turned and just managed to catch the uniform of a serving girl running away, most likely in fear. He sighed. Skaa did nothing but talk. He wouldn't be able to keep the existence of such creatures hidden from the rest of Luthadel, sadly. "Are you a Mistwraith?" he asked it. He got no response. He reasoned that it probably couldn't speak while it was some kind of slime-thing, and commanded it to take on the shape of his father again. "What are you?" he asked.
There was no immediate response from the creature. He felt it fighting his control, but he simply flared brass a little more to put a stop to that. Eventually it opened its mouth, and in his father's voice, it spoke. "Kandra."
Generation 2, Turn 1 has begun! It will end at 5PM BST on the 12th of July.
All of the areas that are liveable around Luthadel have now been conquered.
Roads and canals may no longer be built.
Kandra have been discovered! Players may use Mistborn to take control of them by using brass or zinc. In order to place them within a House, an Action (and some MP depending on the target) must be used to covertly kill someone in that House and replace them. After that, Actions may be used to command them to do things.
Over time, inflation has taken place. It now costs 4 to purchase Tier 1 Goods, and 3 for a 'standard cost' (such as to purchase Property). Selling prices remain the same. However, the increase in connectivity within The Final Empire means that you may run one additional Property without incurring Upkeep costs.
The increase in availability and types of food in The Final Empire has decreased the mortality rate in children. Trying for a child now has a 60% multiplier for success for each child you have beyond the first instead of 50%.
I am allowing players to modify and cancel contracts without using an Action from now onwards, provided I get the same modification/cancel from both. In addition to that, please remember to get in touch with me if you wanted things to be sold or stockpiled instead, and tell me what you want your Properties to do in advance if you want changes.
Finally, a small request - Please get at least some Actions in earlier in the week, if you can. I can't guarantee I'll respond to people and correct mistakes/unviable Actions if I get them all on Sunday three hours before the write-up.
Generation 2 Player List
PMs will be sent out in about an hour or so, after I've had dinner.
