Wyrmhero

All the votes this Cycle are meant to be there. No silencing actions (if there were any) took effect. If I have missed any others, please let me know.

Actually, entirely my fault. I updated the votes on my spreadsheet but not in my writeup... Fixed.

Week 5 An unusual sight greeted Dalinar when he arrived at the command tent today. Usually his Lighteyes waited for his presence to start arguing, but today it sounded as though they'd decided to get on with it early. If only they had started earlier still, and he didn't have to be here to hear any of it. "I'm telling you, it's that damned Darkeyed woman. What's her name..." "Odysa?" Brightness Kenara suggested, looking through the list of prime suspects that the five of them had compiled together before her. Brightlord Kaddar snapped his fingers. "Yes, that's it," he said, grinning a little. "I mean... It only makes sense that they'd use women to spy on us, wouldn't it? They need people who can write!" Kenara rapped her pen on the desk irritably. "Are you suggesting that I might be one, Brightlord Kaddar?" "Well, that makes sense too!" Kaddar declared cheerfully. "I mean, who else sees so much of what Dalinar... plans..." he trailed off as he saw Kenara's withering gaze. Clearly she was not amused. "Okay, maybe not then. But I still think that she's a good place to start." "I disagree," Brightlord Ace said, shaking his head. "I fear that Jain was not the only one lying about his true loyalties here." His eyes flickered over to Brightlord Jost, then back to Kaddar. "Some people seem to protest a little too much." Jost stirred from his seat. "Are you suggesting what I think you are suggesting, Ace?" He was not in a good mood. Firstly, there was Tal, sitting opposite him. And now he was being forced to talk to Ace. Four weeks in close proximity to one another had not made that any easier. "Perhaps I am," Ace said, turning back to face him. "Sometimes I wonder if the real reason you're annoyed with our young friend here is just because you wanted to take that blade back to your master. Which is it? Roion? Vamah?" Jost stood up at such a speed and force that it knocked the small table between them all over, Kenara's papers scattering in every direction. "The only one I serve is Highprince Dalinar!" He said, staring Ace right in the eyes. "I challenge you to a duel, Brightlord Ace, unless you're too cowardly to face me." The room went silent, all of the Lighteyes, Dalinar included, looking at Ace. He looked away. "I apologise, Brightlord Jost. I went too far." "No?" Jost looked down at him, his voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and some small amount of elation. "I don't think that's what the problem is... You two, seize him!" Kaddar and Tal each took an arm, though Ace did not attempt to escape. He looked up at Jost. "You can't be serious, Jost. You think me a Spy just because I insulted you? As I always do?" "It is claimed that someone is interfering with our orders," Dalinar said, as he finally made his presence known. "If that is true, then it can only really be one of you five from this list," he said, reaching over Kenara to tap the paper, assuming it to be the correct one. "Six, perhaps, if that damned half-Darkeyed soldier is still messing about and pretending to be one of us." "Dalinar, sir," Ace said, looking to him. He wrenched his arm out of Tal's grasp, the boy not having as much strength as a more finely trained Lighteyed soldier, and then looked at Kaddar, who dropped his arm without question. Ace stood up, and walked over to the desk. "Let me prove my loyalty to you." * Two days later, Ace was beginning to think that was a bad idea. Leading the assault on Prince Roion's troops, he was fine with. It would be a fierce battle, with glory and renown for all, even the dead. No, what he was less fine with was the fact that he had only been given a Darkeyes equipment - a spear and some rather shoddy leather to protect himself with. He was also somewhat worried by the fact that Brightlord Kaddar was the one who was actually giving the orders. The man was clearly as sane as Jost was angry. Still, there had to be a reason, whatever that might have been. Brightlord Kaddar gave the order to advance, and Ace and the rest of his troops (for he still commanded a respectable force, despite his poorly equipped status) obeyed the order. They hit Prince Roion's troops like the Weeping - calmly, but with a slow sense of inevitability. It wasn't a battle as Ace was used to. Not with this unfamiliar weapon, or this close to the actual front of the battle. Not with the shoulder-to-shoulder advance of his fellow soldier, just one man in the mass of spears that stabbed towards their foe. A cry came from somewhere nearby. "Archers!" Their foe retreated, clearly wary of being caught in the oncoming rain of arrows. They pushed to close the gap, but Ace stayed behind. He looked up, across the battlefield. Prince Roion's archers were meant to be the best in all the princedoms. But even so, he could barely see them, so far away on the horizon. Surely they couldn't hit anything from that dist- "Get down!" He was tackled from the side, and hit the floor rolling, an armoured spearman falling on top of him as arrows pelted their position. The man stood up quickly, picking an arrow out of the back of his armour where it had only slightly penetrated. "Crazy Lighteyes," Ace could hear him mutter as he disappeared back off into the fray. * Kaddar couldn't see what was so bad about the spear as a weapon. It was not a Lighteye's weapon, that was true, but it had one redeeming feature - all the fighting was done on the other end of it - that is, not right in front of him. It lessened the Thrill a little, made it easier to keep a clear head, and not be swallowed up by adrenalin. "Report?" he asked, not looking up from or halting in the writing of his letter as a runner entered the command tent. "The left flank is suffering, sir," the young man reported, saluting in what he probably thought was a smart manner. "Many of their Officers have been killed by Prince Roion's archers, and they are in disarray." "I see," Kaddar nodded, as he continued to write his letter. He should probably get on to that, but a few seconds wouldn't matter all that much. The runner stood there, waiting, until Kaddar finished his letter, pressing his seal to the envelope and sealing it from all eyes. He threw on his set of armour and grabbed his spear from where it lay against the tent's wall. "Very well, let's go and see the damage." But not too close, of course. He didn't want to become a target, just like his officers were. The runner took him a short distance from the front on the left flank, where his forces were apparently now weakest. But as far as he could tell from where he could see, the command structure was still in place. Suspicions went through his mind, and he turned to the runner, but too late. As he did, a knife twisted into his side, cutting through the armour as though it were no thicker than paper. But as far as he could tell, it was not an especially dangerous wound. "Oh, damnation," the runner muttered, a little less irritated than Kaddar would have expected, taking out another knife. "They said they'd replaced your armour, all I had to do was stab you. Well, I'll just do it again, while no-one's looking. If anyone asks, I stabbed you once, alright?" Kaddar raised his spear, his other hand at his side. The messenger smirked a little and pushed against the spearhead with his dagger. The wood cracked a little, and then the spearhead fell off, as rot was revealed beneath. "Just try to die quickly and quietly." "Brightlord, sir!" The messenger turned slightly to look at the source. A few soldiers were running to his rescue. Kaddar took the opportunity and pulled the dagger out of his side, holding it between him and his would-be killer and discarding his damaged spear. The runner scowled. "Next time, your Brightlordiness," he promised, as he ran off, away from Kaddar's saviours. Ace was lynched, but saved by a Guardsman! Ace (6): Jost Joslin, Eoldren, Norlav, Kenara, Odysa, Kaddar Jost Joslin (3): Torwel, Ace, Aonar Faialen Odysa (2): Newan, Mek Marand (1): Reihmer Reihmer (1): Marand Kaddar was wounded in the Skirmish, but saved by a Guardsman! It seems the army is deep within Prince Roion's territory, as at the end of the week, there will be a Battle against Prince Roion. The Cycle will end at 8 PM on Wednesday.

This Cycle is over! You have chosen...

...This is going to be one of those right-up-to-the-minute Cycles again, isn't it? One and a half hours left before Cycle's end.

Just to remind you all, the Cycle will end in approximately 10 hours.

Retracting and replacing a vote would 'reset' your place in the vote order, as you have technically removed your vote and made a new one, even if they happened simultaneously.

For the purposes of this game, no, there will never be a combat against a Highprince with no Spies (unless all his Spies are dead, of course).

Jasnah posted in the last Cycle, therefore she is not dead.

Week 4 "Move your leg back slightly and raise your Shardblade slightly straighter," Dalinar instructed his newest Shardbearer. "Ironstance is about strength, and overwhelming your opponent with the force behind your attack. It's only really useful against other Shardbearers, but we could very well face another out there in the battle tomorrow. It's important that you're ready." "Forgive me, sir..." Brightlord Tal said, relaxing very slightly and letting his arms drop down. He hadn't the strength to hold that pose for too long, not that rigid, even if a Shardblade was curiously light. "But I very much doubt that a week of training will be enough to let me face another Shardbearer." "Perhaps not," Dalinar nodded. "But it will buy you time, time which I can use to come to your aid." "Thank you, sir," Tal said, smiling a little. For all the rage and power he displayed on the battlefield, Dalinar wasn't as bad in moments like this as he had expected. Or perhaps he just didn't want to lose the Shardblade after getting it so recently. Either way though, it was good to know he wouldn't be abandoned and expected to face his betters alone. "Sir?" Brightlord Jost entered the tent, not bothering to hide the scowl as his eyes met Tal's newly bright blue eyes. "At ease," Dalinar nodded to Tal, who slid the Shardblade back in its sheath across his back. Just one more day and he wouldn't have to carry it around anymore. It wasn't as though it was particularly cumbersome, but he always worried that he'd trip and cut himself with it. "What is it, Brightlord Jost?" "I have the reports from the Stormwardens. There is some... dissension." "Dissension?" "Yes sir," Jost nodded. "Apparently there is a disagreement within them about how the charts are to be interpreted." Dalinar sighed. "Very well. I shall pay them a visit." * When Dalinar arrived at the Stormwarden tent with Jost in tow, the argument was evidently still going on. Indeed, it didn't even quieten down in his presence, but instead renewed it with greater vigour. Dalinar did not shout for attention. To do so would be to make a mockery of himself, particularly to the Stormwardens, of whom a large number were in fact Darkeyed. His officers certainly wouldn't stand to see it. "Quiet!" Jost shouted above the din, yelling himself hoarse in order to be heard. "Quiet for the Blackthorn!" "Explain what the problem is," Dalinar commanded, wondering briefly to himself when his own troops had started calling him that. Well, as names went, it certainly wasn't one he disliked. "And quickly, before I grow more annoyed with you." The Stormwardens jostled about, before sending one of their youngest forward to stand under Dalinar's gaze. Dalinar examined the Darkeyed man - no less a boy than his newest Shardbearer, if truth be told - and found him to appear rather nervous. The only one who disagreed, perhaps? "Name, boy? And why do you disagree?" "Wurum, sir... We - that is to say, I - believe that there will be a Highstorm tomorrow, but my brethren disagree rather strongly." Dalinar thought back to the charts that had been relayed to him recently. "It's meant to be in two days, yes?" So they would theoretically have enough time to mount a quick assault while their enemies were setting up their defences, and then hide themselves from the storm afterwards. "Why do you say differently?" The man's eyes darted to the side, to the window. A few windspren floated around out there. A precursor to the Highstorm, perhaps? Was that it? When the answer was not forthcoming, Dalinar gave him a verbal nudge. "Well?" His eyes snapped back to the Highprince. "My apologies, sir. My methods differ slightly to that of the other Stormwardens. I use less calculations, and instead look towards patterns. For instance... Outside, as you can see. We have far more Windspren than we would expect, on a day like today. Not only that, but the number has been building up these last few days, as well. While it may not be something obviously noticable, it could suggest that higher winds are on the way." "But only suggest?" Dalinar pressed. "This is important. If there is one on the way, then my soldiers will die if they are not kept safe. If there is not one, then we will lose a valuable opportunity. How certain are you?" "I am fairly certain, my lord." "Would you stake your life on it?" Dalinar asked. One Stormwarden's dissidence might not be indicative of a Spy for another prince, but that didn't mean that it might not be. "I..." The man paled and looked away from Dalinar's gaze, back outside. One of the windspren was floating by the window. He turned, and then nodded, surprisingly firmly. "Yes, sir." * The shelter was formed from the stone of the mountain they had their backs to, with Soulcasters working all night to form decently-sized caverns, and even fill them with some amenities for the more important members of the army (that is, the Lighteyes). The Highstorm hit mid-afternoon the next day with a fury that made Dalinar's own battle-rage seem timid in comparison, and the Stormwarden seemed rather relieved to keep his head. Dalinar and his nobles sat in a room of their own, as they discussed more about the situation they found themselves in. Were there any more suspicions that they had uncovered? Who were they themselves suspicious of? At one point, Brightlord Kaddar asked to be excused and left the room. Refreshments and wines of various colours were brought in, loosening tongues slightly as the evening went on. Suspicions turned towards Meller, the bridgebuilder. He'd been accusing Lighteyes, after all. Where did he get the idea that such a thing was acceptable? They marched into the Darkeyes-part of the shelter, and found that he was already under fire already. Brightlord Kaddar and Meller were shouting at each other and accusing each other of treacherous deeds. "I bet it was you who stabbed the Horneater girl, wasn't it?" Brightlord Kaddar asked, a rather evil smile on his face. "I'd be willing to bet an emerald broam it was you." "What? How dare you accuse me of that!" Meller shouted back at his face, which only made Kaddar smile more. "You'd probably be willing to sell Dalinar out for just a few dun spheres, wouldn't you? Of course, they'd probably cheat you out of it as well. You're not very bright, are you? How many fingers am I holding up?" He asked, raising three fingers. "Can you even count to four?" Meller's response was to punch him right in Kaddar's smirk, the surprised noble falling to the ground before he could even respond. He held a hand to his nose, and then looked at it before replacing it quickly to stem the bloodflow. "You hit me!" he said, his voice muffled by his hand. He seemed surprised, as if he hadn't expected the Darkeyed man to actually do it. Dalinar sighed. Kaddar had clearly provoked the man, but... This was a war. He couldn't simply let this happen. He looked to Kenara. "Watchman Meller," she said quickly, having anticipated his needs and rifled through and found the appropriate paper for him. He nodded his thanks at her. "Watchman Meller, you know the penalty for striking a superior officer." Meller spat on the ground at Kaddar's feet. "But what's the penalty for striking him?" Dalinar managed to stop himself from cracking a smile somehow, and pointed out to the door of the shelter. "Someone escort this disgrace out of my army." * They found Meller's body battered against the Highstorm shelter the next morning. His possessions were claimed and stolen shortly afterwards by his former fellow soldiers, but after they were tracked down, there was no indication that he was anything more than he claimed to be. Meller was a Darkeyed Watchman, loyal to Dalinar! Meller (5): Aonar Faialen, Jost Joslin, Kaddar, Kenara, Marand Odysa (2): Newan, Mek Kaddar (2): Ace, Odysa Newan (1): Reihmer At the end of the week, there will be a Skirmish against Prince Roion.

Nah, it's fine. With how I'm doing the writeup, it's okay. Okay, still alright... Well, that's settled then. The Cycle is now over.

Last minute request from Mailliw73 as the forum is apparently playing up from him.

There is a mere one hour left in this Cycle. Everyone get to the shelters, quick!

Sorry, I did indeed get rather confused by that it seems. No actions can be taken during a Highstorm, even Sabotages (though Lighteyes can still vote).

Yeah, I don't know where you got that from either... And Wilson's correct, if a Scout uses their ability they can't be targeted by anyone else (other than Officers), so yes, they can survived being targeted by a Shardblade kill.

Tal cannot kill someone this Cycle as there is a Highstorm. He can do so next Cycle onwards.

Couple of clarifications to make here. Shardblades can be used on any Cycle when the player could use actions. This means that the only times they cannot be used is during a Highstorm (when no actions can be taken) or if the player Scouts that Cycle. There is only one circumstance where a Shardblade kill can be blocked - If the Shardblader is responsible for the death of the Wit and becomes downgraded to a Darkeyes, then they can be roleblocked by an Officer (odd, I know, but ). Lighteyes can skip combat and still use all actions and are affected by all actions otherwise. The fact that Dalinar did not vote does indeed mean there was a tie in the Lighteye vote. Metacognition's secret ablity to vote twice has been patched >>

You will indeed be informed if the Surgeon or Guardsman is saved. No-one was saved by a Surgeon or Guardsman last Cycle. I must admit to laughing quite a bit when I realised that no-one would die in the first Battle .

Week 3 Dalinar surveyed the battlefield with a keen eye, taking in all of Prince Aladar's forces as he looked out from the hill while he waited to be fitted out with his Shardplate. Strange. Was this all he could muster? Here they were, fighting against the rest of the Alethi princedoms, their army spread out in three across the borders of Gavilar and Sadeas' princedoms, yet their foe couldn't even raise a force equal to theirs? "Brightness Kenara," he said, turning to his scribe, "we have a report of the lay of the land, yes? Is there anywhere that Aladar could hide reserves, or perhaps ambush us from?" Kenara rifled through the papers she had lain out on the table before her. She picked one up and spread the map across the table, rotating it slightly until it fit what they could see. She shook her head. "No, my lord. In front of us, it is almost all plains, and ehind us they would have to fight through our own reserve forces. It is not something he could simply hope to do and succeed at." "Even with his Spies in our forces?" he sighed and lifted his arms up. A Darkeyed attendant started to snap his Shardplate into place. He lowered then when it had been fitted correctly, not bothering to check that his own armour wasn't damaged. If they had tampered with his Shardplate in an important manner, he wouldn't feel the lightness or strength it bestowed upon its wearer. He took his helmet from them, but didn't put it on. He wanted a completely unobstructed view of the battlefield for now. "We have taken precautions against that," Brightlord Jost interjected. "Our forces know to be wary of enemies attacking from behind." Dalinar smiled. Good, it was going to be a proper battle then. War as the Almighty intended. No subterfuge, no tricks, just strategy, skill and strength. And that meant that his army would win. "Assemble my troops," he said. "You know what is required of you." "...Actually sir, I was hoping we could talk about that before we started," Brightlord Jain said, stepping forward nervously. "you see sir, I'm not perfectly confident that I will be able to carry out my part of the plan as instructed." "Nonsense," Dalinar said, clapping him on the back with a slightly too cheery grin. Jain practically was thrown to the ground by the strength behind it thanks to the Shardplate. "My apologies. Sometimes I forget my own strength in these things. But still, your part of the plan doesn't even require that much skill." "Sir," Jain said as he pushed himself back to his feet, "I'm not entirely convinced that we need a Lighteyes at the front of the charge. Surely we should be at the back, where we can see the battlefield and make a difference?" "Jain, I think you might be a little mistaken about what your part in the battle is." That caused Jain to falter. "...Sir?" "Certain people have expressed dissatisfaction as to where they think your loyalties truly lie." "Sir, this is what happens when you ask Darkeyes for their opinions. They don't care who dies as long as its one of us." "It's not just them, Jain," Brightlord Jost said, speaking up. "I have heard things during my investigations too." "...I'd like to request my leave now, sir?" Jain tried, figuratively throwing himself on the Blackthorn's mercy, though there wasn't much hope in his voice. "Denied. If you are indeed one of my men, then obey my orders as you should. If not... Go and die in battle, and reclaim some of your blackened honour." Jain grimaced. "It seems I have no choice then," he muttered. He drew his sword from its scabbard and lunged at Dalinar, attempting to strike his currently unprotected neck. But even without a weapon, a man in Shardplate was still a force to be reckoned with. Dalinar's fist slammed into his stomach as though it were a warhammer, crushing through Jain's armour and driving all the air out of his lungs. He stumbled back and collapsed from the sheer force behind the blow, looking up at the man he had betrayed. "You should have died in battle," Dalinar said, not taking his eyes off Jain in the ten heartbeats it took to summon his Shardblade. "Then perhaps you might still have found a decent place in the Tranquiline Halls." He swung his Shardblade, and Jain's eyes burned. * Tal had always considered war to be glorious before he signed up. True, there were moments where it was still fun, but those mostly took place off the battlefield, where you were just glad to have survived the last battle and be able to spend time with your comrades-in-arms. Now he knew better, after fighting alongside men sent to die for the glory of a Lighteyes, and burying some of his friends. But even then, in the midst of battle with the dying and the dead, there was a certain beauty to it. A moment of perfection where there was nothing in the world but you and your foe. When the Thrill overrode all other feelings within him. There was pride in those moments, when it felt as though you faced the world and won. It was a moment when he could be proud to be a soldier. Those moments seemed too far gone right now. The battle had started off perfectly for Dalinar's army. They made massive ground and surged forwards, but all that served to do in the end was separate them. While Prince Aladar didn't have any reserves to commit to the fight, he had the next best thing. A Shardblader. How could one kill so many so easily and still remain human? Storm them. This one was cutting through their ranks as though they weren't even there. Everywhere he turned the gargantuan sword, men were either permanently maimed, or simply fell to the ground for him to step over. He didn't even have Shardplate, but simple platemail. There were a mere dozen men between them. The only strategy they were taught that was really possible was for enough spearmen to surround the Shardblader that they could get a few decent hits in before they died. But even that didn't seem to work here. Three men fell with a single stroke of the sword, followed by two more. He sheared through the spear hafts as they attacked him, and the men surrounding him scattered. A clearing opened in the battle around the Shardblade-wielder, who turned to look at him. Tal belatedly realised that he was the only one left trying to face the man. Tal gripped the spear in his hand, his only weapon. Well, he might as well go down fighting. If he was going to die here, he'd do it right. He charged forward-. Suddenly grey armour stood before him, a bulwark for him to hide behind. He stopped before he crashed into Dalinar's towering figure, Shardblade there to block the attack that was aimed to kill Tal like so many of his friends. The enemy Shardblader took a step back. Tal could see fear in his eyes now. A few seconds later proved why - There was nothing that a man with a mere Shardblade could do against someone with the full set of blade and plate. Dalinar cut him down almost as easily as the Shardblader had his army. He knelt down and picked up the blade. And then, inexplicably, he passed the hilt to Tal. * "You gave a Shardblade to a Darkeyed soldier?!" "Please, calm down, Brightlord Jost. Brightlord Tal was willing to charge their Shardblader and throw his life away for our cause. I cannot see us do anything less than reward him for it." "We can't trust them, Dalinar," Jost growled out, not even bothering to refer to Dalinar with respect. "We know that they have Spies in our army, and you just go and give a Shardblade to someone who might be one of them?" "We know that the Lighteyes here aren't incorruptible either," Dalinar snapped, turning to look at Jost. Then realisation hit him. "You're just angry that you weren't given it, aren't you?" "I am trained in the sword, Dalinar. I've served your family since before that boy even heard of you. I'm a better soldier than him in every way. We need experienced swordsmen to hold a Shardblade in this war, not a boy who wouldn't even know how to hold it right." "Dismissed, Brightlord Jost." "You shouldn't-" "I said dismissed, Jost," Dalinar said more firmly, giving him a stony glare. "Be grateful that I am willing to let it go there." Jost held his gaze momentarily, then looked away. He didn't apologise, but simply left the tent silently. Lightsworn Panda was a Lighteyed Swordsman, loyal to Prince Vamah! His Spanreed has been given to a random player. Jain (3): Alinel Lenia, Jost Joslin Marand (1): Meller Odysa (1): Kenara Karlin (1): Reihmer Ace (1): Kaddar No-one died in Battle! Tal won a Shardblade and has risen to the ranks of the Lighteyes! At the end of the week, there will be a Highstorm.

Edit: Posted that three minutes too early >> Now time's up! Who will be the lucky winner? Stay tuned after the break to find out.

Sorry to distract you all, but the Cycle will end in just over half an hour.

As with my previous game, any clarifications on the rules that I am asked, no matter whether it's on the thread, in PMs, or in docs, I will always share the answer with everyone on here to keep the playing field even.

If a Lighteyes skips a week's Combat, then they are removed from the list for that Cycle and put into the next Cycle's. They are, effectively, not a viable choice for it. The same is true for Spies in Combat with their own army: They will not be on the list for that Cycle, though they won't be added to the next like a Lighteyes skipping Combat. Neither will be given any indication in the writeup. If it's not 200 people long, I'm not interested

One player loyal to Dalinar, not necessarily a Darkeyes.

Week 2 Within Dalinar's tent, only two things could be heard. First, the monotonous ticking of the clever little mechanical timepiece that his Ardents had created, set off to the side of the room. The second was the Blackthorn himself, as he paced up and down, half-walking and half-stomping. None of his Brightlords said anything, none of them wanting to be the one to stop him and risk his wrath for such a minor thing. Thankfully, Dalinar grew tired of his pacing and turned to them of his own accord. "Nothing?" "We have our suspicions, sir," Brightlord Jost started, "but nothing particularly useful, admittedly." "Was anyone at least unhelpful? Did anyone refuse to talk?" At least if that happened, they might have a starting point, weak link in the chain to break. "Sir, why would a Darkeyed soldier refuse to talk to their superiors? We would have them executed for insubordination." "That's true," Dalinar nodded. "I suppose I was hoping this would be easier than it is turning out to be." He sighed. "I want to speak with you all alone, after this," he said. "For now, we should go back over Brightlord Jain's plans for the harrying of Prince Vamah's supply chain. Lady Kenara, I believe you have the list of the resistance that we should expect from the bodyguard." "Yes sir," Kenara replied, as she stood up to relay the scouts' estimations. * Horneaters hated war. It wasn't a particularly well-known fact here in the lands of the Alethi, but they had never really concerned themselves with learning about other cultures. Particularly not their lower class, the Darkeyes. They would probably find it rather amusing that they regarded the spear as more honourable than the sword, though still somewhat abhorrent all the same. Wok would be the first to admit that her status here was somewhat strange, being what they would call Darkeyed, and yet still socially rather high up. It was an alien idea to these people, that eye colour had no bearing on social status, and she'd had to correct people who made assumptions quite a number of times. Technically, she was a diplomat, in the care of Gavilar until her father recalled her. As the daughter of a king, what else could she be when coming to another country like this? Her father was willing to bet on Gavilar in this war, and so she was his gift to the ferocious Blackthorn. She worked for him as an attendant and scribe, though she was never allowed to see anything in too much detail, just in case. All this talk of Spies in the army was making her uncomfortable. She was pretty sure she qualified as a spy, though she didn't intend Dalinar or his army any harm. She was just here to report to her father, nothing more. She paused in her writing, listening to the sounds from outside her tent. Poking her head out, she watched for a short while as a small portion of the army headed off. She thought back to a few weeks previous. Yes, this was the sort of number that Dalinar used in raids. Enough to be quick and do some heavy damage to a lightly defended area, but not enough that they would be easily spotted. Her father would approve, as it reduced the amount of actual fighting that needed to be done. She retreated back into her tent, and picked up her Spanreed again to continue her message, apologising first of all for her delay. She was distracted enough that the first hint she felt of an intruder was the knife at her neck. "Horneaters should stay out of our business." There was a brief, sharp moment of pain, and then she couldn't feel any more. As she lay dying, eyes slowly unfocusing as her life bled away, her assassin knelt down and picked up the Spanreed. She tried to say something, but that just brought the pain back in a flash of white. "Prince... Dalinar... apologises... for the loss... of your daughter..." the man muttered to himself as he wrote. In her dazed state, for some reason Wok took note of the fact that he seemed to dislike what he was doing. Was it better that her killer didn't want to do it? She realised a little later that it was because he was writing. She tried to laugh a little at the absurdity of him finding writing to be more immoral than murder, but all that escaped her was a rasp and more blood. It became harder for her to keep her eyes open, and eventually she just stopped trying. The man took a little longer to finish his writing, and only then did he look to her. He kicked Wok's body over so that she was lying face up. He knelt down once more to check she was dead. Satisfied that she was, he snapped the Spanreed in half, dropped it onto her body, and left the tent. Wok (1): Jost Joslin Jain (1): Aonaran Faialen Eoldren (1): Marand Damon Shan (1): Odsa Meller (1): Dalinar No-one was lynched. Wok was a Messenger, loyal to Dalinar. At the end of the week, there will be a Battle against Prince Aladar. The Cycle will end at 8PM on Thursday, GMT. Another minor clarification: Darkeyes will be informed when they have been roleblocked by an Officer.