Wyrmhero

Night 6 Hadrian strode forwards, before his peers. "I vote for Lord Tuy," he declared. "I said we should take down a House Lord, and I still think we should! After all, his is the only House that the Skaa haven't attacked..." "I agree with Lord Penrod," Alden said, nodding. "House Seeris had no Skaa, and they were attacked continually, and House Urbain was only attacked when their Skaa infilitrator had been removed. House Elariel has lost someone as well. House Tuy, however, stands alone as the only Great House which has remained untouched." "Now," he continued with more confidence than he had expected after his previous attempts to speak up had him defending Skaa, "this is by no means damning evidence. To my knowledge, Asyr's guilt cannot be proven. We are running low on suspects though, and we must start somewhere this ball. We're not here to dance, ladies and gentlemen, we're here to find a traitor." "Claiming that such an old and prolific House Lord is actually Skaa is a dangerous thing to do without evidence," Heron said. "Not that we couldn't find out for certain either way..." "My Lords," Kassel said, wincing as he limped over. A bandage could be seen under his shirt - it was rather easy to notice, considering he was wearing a white shirt and the bandages were a bright orange colour. "You will no doubt be pleased to discover that I'd set my contacts to investigating Lord Tuy. I must admit, I had come to similar conclusions, albeit through a different set of propositions." "Last night," he continued, pausing to catch his breath and steel himself, "last night, I was informed that those suspicions were correct. Lord Tuy is Skaa." "I agree," Ashette said, from her small podium in the centre of them all. "I suspected that when he said he was a Coinshot. There have been far too many attacks on us for the Skaa not to have a Coinshot in their employ." "It pains me to have to agree with this, but I too believe that Lord Tuy is hiding something," Kaldin added with a sigh. "Let's just get this over with then." The room turned towards the man in question. "Well, gents, I hope you're happy," Asyr called back, as he slowly strode towards the door. He took his jacket from a slightly bewildered Terrisman, who seemed torn between being polite and thinking that he should be trying to stop Asyr from leaving. "Though calling you gentlemen is a bit of a stretch." "You are all children. You play your little noble games, not realising the lives you hurt. Not realising how pathetic you are for giving yourself airs. You are scum, all of you." He shrugged a bit. "I would hate you, but I can't even bring myself to do anything but pity you instead. You will tear each other apart, just to get slightly ahead of everyone. It may not happen today, it might be tomorrow. But all of you will die at the hands of someone else in this room." "But I suppose that's nothing special to you. You already murder innocent Skaa. Why should you balk at killing guilty nobles? How long do you think this will last, until it becomes a House war?" He shook his head. "No, it already has, whether you realise it or not. Do you think The Lord Ruler cares about you? For your families? You can be replaced, just as easily as I will be." "If I am to have last words for you all, let them be this: The Lord Ruler, Lord Heron, Inquisitor Belmark, all of you can go to Hell." He shrugged his jacket on and took his cane back from the Terrisman. Then he pushed against the door and left. No-one noticed the tears he left behind, soaking into the carpet that led to outdoors. The room was silent for a few moments, and then Fien looked to Lord Heron and the Inquisitor. "Shouldn't someone go after him?" he asked. "I don't see you volunteering, Fien," Mesist said with a patronising drawl as he tossed another coin at Fien. Fien batted it away with a look of irritance. A House war seemed pretty good right now, so long as Mesist was the only casualty. "But however much it pains me to admit it, Lord Orange is correct." He grinned at Fien's subsequent scowl. Mesist looked to Belmark, who shook his head. "I have a House to destroy," the Inquisitor said, before following after Tuy with a measured pace. Lord Heron sighed and took out a handful of coins. "I suppose I shall have to do this," he said, exiting as well. * Wyrm eventually found Asyr atop the Keep of House Morinthe, which had become dusty and unkempt already, though not even a week had gone by. Heron took another coin out of his pouch and aimed it at Asyr, waiting for the elderly man to make a move. "I suppose I should be thankful that the Inquisitor didn't come after me," Asyr said, maintaining his relaxed pose, overlooking the grounds calmly. "Though no doubt you won't let me have an easy death." He turned around slowly to face Lord Heron. Almost immediately, Wyrm launched the first coin at Asyr. It was countered as Asyr too burnt steel, the coin slowing rapidly in mid-air and almost hanging motionless between them, unable to fall from the sheer pressure on it that each applied in opposite directions. The force was transfered through their shots, and both men were knocked backwards. Wyrm was able to stop burning steel in time that he didn't fly off the roof, but he hit one of the crenellations hard enough that it was a scramble to fall to the ground to avoid being struck by the now unimpeded coin. Asyr was knocked back less than his opponent, for he was the stronger Coinshot, but didn't have the benefit of something to stop him falling off the roof. He wasn't concerned though, as he simply Pushed off a window latch and soared gracefully over the grounds. Lord Heron dropped a coin and followed him as closely as he could, attempting to use the same anchors as Lord Tuy did, though it was apparent that Asyr would be able to escape him if this continued. Asyr was simply able to travel further on the same amount of Steel. No, if he needed to stop Asyr escaping, he needed to stop the skaa as quickly as possible. Aiming a shot while bounding through the air like this was difficult, particularly since his target was moving. Wyrm Pushed off another window latch and fired a coin as his prey. His shot went wildly off-target as Asyr changed direction suddenly, yanking himself to the side and sending Wyrm travelling in the wrong direction. Wyrm landed on the rooftop, looking out into the distance at the direction Asyr left in. Despite the fact that any Allomancy seemed to disperse the mists slightly, that didn't mean that they could be seen through easily. He burnt steel again and launched himself in the direction that Asyr had just gone in. A coin bit into his arm out of the mists from ahead, and he hit this rooftop harder, rolling painfully as he landed. Nothing was broken, but his arm was bleeding heavily from where the coin had dug in and then been pressed in further. "I can keep this up all day, your Lordship, leading you around Luthadel like this," Asyr said with a smirk. "I very much doubt that you can." "You're twice my age, Asyr," Heron replied, wincing slightly as he pulled the bloody coin out of his arm and tossed it aside. "You're practically dead on your feet already. I could just wait for you to collapse from exhaustion." "You won't get that lucky," Asyr replied as he threw a handful of coins at Wyrm and Pushed them at him. Wyrm returned the Push, deflecting them slightly and moving to the side so he could attack from another angle. Asyr dropped a coin and jumped off it, escaping back up into the sky. This time though, Wyrm was ready for him. He pushed the coin that Asyr was using as an anchor away, and his trajectory shifted suddenly, flying off at an odd angle. Asyr burnt steel and pushed on a latch, but it wasn't quite enough, and he flew into the side of a building with an audible grunt of pain. He dropped down to the floor, dropping a coin from his hand to steady himself. He whirled around, ready to fire another coin at his opponent, but Wyrm was already there, dagger in hand. Asyr wasn't worried though, the dagger was metal. He could just fire it into his attacker instead. He flared his steel, but was surprised to find none of the lines were coming from it. The dagger found his throat as he attempted to dodge too late. Wyrm withdrew it quickly, taking out a napkin to clean the blade, letting Asyr bleed to death instead of finishing the job immediately. Already blood was oozing out of his throat. "A..." it was excruciating, but his hold on life was rapidly disappearing, and so was the pain. "Alum...?" He managed to get out, blood caught in his throat, stopping him from breathing. The world swam out of focus. "Aluminium wouldn't be strong enough unalloyed," Wyrm replied offhandedly. "Though it's interesting that you know of it. I believe that was how Lady Raisaal died, come to think of it. I suppose we'll have to look for a leak in the Canton of Inquisition," he continued, moving on to soaking up some of the blood on his arm with the napkin. He sighed as he examined the wound. "I hate fighting other Coinshots," he muttered. "But in any case, I'm glad that you revealed that we have a traitor in there as well," he said with a smile, as Asyr's eyes slowly became unfocused. "The Lord Ruler thanks you for your help." He dropped the bloody napkin onto Asyr's face, and Steelpushed off the roof. Night 6 has begun. It will end on Friday at 9PM BST (GMT+1) as an extension has been declared. Asyr Tuy was a half-Skaa Coinshot! Jae Kastner is now Head of House Tuy. The next ball is at House Erikell Urbain. Player List

So throughout the books we know that Scadrial has the concept of 'heaven' and 'hell' within its religion, but my question is where that concept comes from. For all that Sazed said that he'd preserve the teachings of The Steel Ministry, we know sadly little about them, I think, since most of the characters are Skaa and the only real noble main character, Elend, doesn't know too much or spend time talking about it. So does anyone know whether they were concepts from previous religions that just didn't die away, or if they were a core part of The Steel Ministry? Did Skaa go to heaven, or were only nobles eligible? How did The Final Empire treat TLR within the context of this as a 'Sliver' of Infinity? I'm not sure if we have any information about this, but if anyone can point me in the right direction, I'd love to know.

I can neither confirm nor deny that I have been using that sort of thing either zero, one or more times. Nor can I confirm or deny the fact that Kas has wanted to do so for a while. I mean, it's his head. I cannot confirm nor deny that I know what goes on in there. Hell, I can't even confirm or deny that I know my own mind sometimes.

Day 6 Slowly and surely, Drax climbed the wall of the Keep. He had chosen not to simply drop a coin and Steelpush on it; it would have been too easy, and he wanted to be challenged today. His fingers found the grooves that let him pull himself up, and he kept a watchful eye on the courtyard behind him, in case anyone saw him and cried out. But that shouldn't happen. Who would expect a Mistborn to climb a wall rather than vault it? It also helped that his Mistcloak was the same pale, misty grey of the wall and the air around him. There were probably a few Tineyes keeping a lookout, but even they would have difficulty telling him apart from the wall in this fog. He looked up and smiled slightly to himself. A window above him was open. No balcony or anything, so it would probably be unguarded. Burning his steel, he could tell that the latches weren't metal. They would never expect an Allomancer to make their way here. They'd have to be an excellent judge of angle, force and distance to manage to trumble through here. He found another hole in the masonry and placed his hand there, hauling himself up and around the window. A few more steady feet upwards, and he was above the open window. From here, he could swing around and drop down through it, probably onto a soft carpet to muffle the sound of his unshod feet. Drax counted to three in his head, and then gently lowered himself into the room. So far so good. No loud noises, no creaking floorboards. He took a few steps forward, his bare feet making hardly a whisper of a sound. He crept up on the occupant of the room at their desk, drew his dagger, and- "You left your copper off, Erikell," Lord Heron explained without breaking in his writing or turning around to acknowledge the Mistborn in any other way. Drax paused as he checked the metals he was burning. "Aha, well... I just wanted to give you a chance. It's sporting of me to do that, wouldn't you say? I mean, it'd be no fun if an awesome Mistborn like myself didn't have a challenge now and again, right? Besides, you're not a Seeker anyway. How did you know that? And how did that tell you it was me?" "Only a fool wouldn't burn copper when infiltrating a Keep," Lord Heron said with a weary sigh. "Drax Erikell is a fool. I simply put those facts together. As for the fact I can't Seek..." He shrugged a little and then continued to write. "Do you really think I don't employ Seekers? I knew of your presence the moment you stepped onto my grounds." "...Good points," Drax was forced to admit. He sheathed his dagger, and took a folded sheet of parchment from inside one of his many pockets. "I've got a letter for you. Drax, the errand-boy Mistborn, at your service," he swept his arm to the side and bowed in a mocking tone, though it was somewhat wasted on his employer, since his back was turned. Lord Heron raised his arm and held it above his shoulder, waiting for Drax to pass it over. "You know, this sort of behaviour might be why you can't keep Mistborn in your services," Drax said with a sigh, even as he did as instructed. "I mean, we Mistborn are all humble and subservient and meek and we like hiding our awesomeness from the world, but even we have limits." Heron snatched the letter from Drax' hand. "I would be quite content with you hiding yourself away from the world, but sadly that has not come to pass." He opened the letter, noting that the seal had been broken already. He read the letter, and then read it again. "Hmm, interesting. What are your thoughts on this?" "I don't know what 'this' is," Drax said, attempting to make his face the picture of innocence as he slowly opened one of the desk's drawers and read the first piece of paper that he came across. "You know precisely what I mean," Heron said, slamming the door shut on Drax' fingers. Drax yelped and withdrew his hand quickly, rubbing the now-bruised fingers gently to ease the pain. Flaring pewter helped with that. "Well..." he said, wincing as he stopped and the pain returned almost as strong, "it could just be a Skaa trick, right? I mean, no reason for this to be true, right?" Heron drummed his fingers on the desk as he thought. "Regardless... Something is rotten in that House. Keep an eye on things. If anything new develops..." The Mistborn sighed. "I know, I know. You'll be the first to know. Anything else? Or can I go? A lot of people are counting on seeing me tonight, and if I don't show up, how will they know life is worth living?" Heron put a hand on his face and groaned. "Yes, that's all, you are excused." He picked up his pen and began to write, but put it back down almost as quickly. "Actually, no. There was one more thing," he said, correcting himself. "Hold this," he added as he passed a heavy object over to Drax. "What's this?" Drax asked, holding it up a little so he could see it in the candlelight. "A paperweight?" "Precisely," Heron smiled to himself, and flared steel. "Wh-Oof!" The weight smashed into Drax' chest, causing him to lose his breath and grimace as it crushed against his ribs . More worryingly, he found himself hurtled out of the window, suspended momentarily in the Luthadel night sky with a large metal weight in his hands. "Uh, look out below!" He shouted, dropping it quickly and immediately burning steel against it just in time to stop himself from being able to lay claim to being the flattest Mistborn in the world. He winced as he looked at the body of Pilgras, head bashed in by the falling weight. The poor boy hadn't even heard it coming. Perhaps that was something, at least. "Well... That was not intended," he muttered to himself, scratching his chin a little as he wondered what to do about it. "Ah well, it was Lord Heron's fault", he said to no-one in particular as he Steelpushed off into the night. * Lord Tormander took a slow carriage back to his Keep. He was in absolutely no rush when it came to returning home. Too many deaths had been caused by carelessness these past few weeks. No, he had decided to be much more cautious than his peers. That was why he was taking a few days off out in the country every so often, and keeping his movements unknown to all but those closest to him. It was driving his Terrisman mad trying to keep up, but he wasn't particularly bothered by that. He stepped out of the carriage at his Keep's courtyard, taking off his hat and passing it to one of his young nephews - he forgot which one it was, nor did he really care to remember. Embarrassing whelps to a man. They were everything that people in Luthadel derided the South for being, and while Hyrun was rather proud of his Dominance, he couldn't help but privately agree in this case. "Sir-" "Be quiet, you snivelling excuse for a noble," Hyrun snapped at one of them. "You're lucky to even be here. Back when I was young, if anyone as pathetic as you was born in the Southern Dominance, we'd leave them outside for the Skaa to eat on cold winter nights! And you'd be glad of that being your lot in life, I could tell you!" "But sir-" "It appears you've grown deaf already! I thought that a Tineye like yourself would be able to hear even basic orders, but it seems that you have reached a new low that I didn't even think existed." "Actually sir, I'm the-" Another one said, raising his hand. "Did I give you leave to speak? No? Then shut up." Hyrun sighed and took his jacket off. It wasn't a particularly cold night. One of his nephews held his hands out to take it, but Hyrun just threw it over him, to the boy's surprise. "Obligator," he said, looking to his side and waving one of the bald men over, "beat..." he hesitated as he tried to put the names to faces. looking back over at them all. "Jeremy," he decided, pointing at the one who had spoken out first. The one who apparently wasn't a Tineye. "I'm Jeremy!" the coat-covered one said. "And beat Oscar for contradicting me," he added. "I do not like to be contradicted." This time, while there was a squawk of indignation from the second boy to speak up, there was no more actual dissension from the group. That was good. He just wondered when it would dawn on them that he didn't really care which of them were punished when he handed out beatings. "You," he said, pointing at the fourth of them, who was displaying great survival instincts by being quiet, standing straight and just staring into the distance. "Go and get the servants to prepare me a bath," he said. "And make sure that they don't add anything to it. I have no wish to be poisoned in my own bathtub. In fact, you bathe first in it, without telling them beforehand. Then get them to make me a fresh bath, made the same way." This would serve him well. If the bathwater was poisoned, he'd just be down one of four replaceable and interchangeable brats. And if it was not, then he was worrying for nothing, and hopefully some of the stench of the boy would disappear as a consolation for him surviving. "Y-yes uncle," the boy said, a small bow. "You'll call me 'Sir' or 'Lord' while we're in Luthadel, Michael," he said. "When you're finished with Oscar and Jeremy, beat Michael as well." The fourth boy seemed strangely relaxed about that. Well, that could be changed easily. Unfortunately, he'd never been able to remember his sister's eldest's name. "And then him as well, whatshisname," he said, waving his hand at the boy in a vague fashion. "But after he's tested my bath. I don't want my bath to be blood-stained, after all." "Very good, Lord Tormander," the Obligator nodded with a cruel grin as he clapped his hands together. "By the way, My Lord-" "Isn't it?" Hyrun said with a smile, cutting off the Obligator as he turned back to his nephews. Then he noticed that Whatshisname hadn't left. "Well? Get on with it. Get on with it!" he said, cuffing the boy around the head when he didn't move immediately. Then he turned to the other three, Oscar, Jeremy (who had now folded the coat around his arm in a somewhat poor attempt to be neat) and Michael. "What are you still doing here?" he asked. "Unc-Sir," Oscar changed track hurriedly at Hyrun's withering glare, "you never ordered us to do anything, other than be beaten. Which can be done here..." "I never told you to go away? That must be why I'm so utterly sick of the sight of you all," Hyrun muttered. "Obligator, go and take them to hall, and then beat where the servants can see." "As My Lord commands," the Obligator said, walking off and sheparding the boys off to their random punishments. Hyrun smiled to himself as he watched their slowly diminishing figures vanish into the mist before his Keep. "Now, I wonder what it was that Jonathon wanted?" No, wait, that was the last one's name. Which one was the one that wasn't the Tineye? Oh well, no matter. He turned around to order the coachman to head off for the night, and was surprised to see a black-robed figure in front of him. The figure raised its hand before Hyrun's face. The hand held a few coins. "Goodbye, Lord Tormander," they said, and burnt steel. * In a time of crisis such as this, with seemingly half the nobility dying off and the other half traitorous wolfhounds, it was of course of vital important for the nobles to show off as much as possible. House Cett did not break the trend of being over the top and showy when they threw a party, not by any means. The Keep itself was shaped as a perfect pentagon, with two layers within. The outer layers were for the staff to be able to cook and store cleaning materials and generally move around without being seen by the nobles, while the inner layer was where the Cetts themselves lived. Only the ground floor was open today, and the inner pentagon was divided into ten sections by low walls, forming a five-pointed star, with the innermost inverted pentagon serving as the ballroom. Most of it was covered in tables and chairs for debating, rather than dancers, however. The first eight segments of the room were themed according to the eight different types of Misting. House Cett liked to show off their mineral wealth, and each of them contained a small pile of the relevant metal, with vials and corks to the side in case anyone wanted to restock on metal and trusted the Cetts not to poison them that way. An Obligator-Misting also sat there, and for a small fee they were willing to advise and teach about the use and subtleties of their metal. The entrance opened up into the area for the Terrisman to eat and talk while their masters were busy politicking. While the carpet from the entrance to the ballroom was kept clear, to each side the servants could be seen discussing and sharing information. This also made it easier to overhear sensitive information as one walked through, and it was possible to see that the Terrismen seemed on edge a little. Most of what they were discussing was somehow related to the disappearances of both Bwin and Bamin, so it seemed a bit understandable. The final tenth of the room, opposite the entrance, was comprised mostly of bookshelves, each of which was full of literature approved of by The Lord Ruler's government. They ranged from astronomy to zoology, and most of them seemed to be old and well-used over the years. Under the spinning kaleidoscopic sphere of limelight that sat above the dance floor, a pentagonal hole opened up in the floor. A fog slowly seeped into the room from it, and the Skaa servants went from lantern to lantern, dimming the lights. From the opening, a platform slowly rose up, presenting their host, Ashette Cett, to them in her finest dress and her fakest smile. A series of smaller lights flashed over the mist from above, coming to rest on the wall behind her and combining together to spell out 'Ashette Cett welcomes you to her House ball!' Ashette stood straight and proud, a sheet of parchment in her hand, but before she could deliver her readied speech, a slow clap filled the room. All eyes turned to the entrance, where Lord Heron and Inquisitor Belmark were walking into the room. "Don't encourage them, please," Lord Heron muttered, his voice carrying with the acoustics of the room. "I have enough trouble as it is." "I thought it well done," Belmark said, his permanent wide and disturbing grin across his face. "Flashy perhaps, but impressive in its execution nonetheless." He lowered his hands as he shrugged. "The Inquisition believes in recognising and promoting talent, as you well know." "In any case, speaking of execution," Lord Heron said firmly, halting the distracting conversation as quickly as he could, "you all know why we're here, so get on with it. And please," he added, a slight pained tone entering his voice, "for heaven's sake, don't make any more of a mockery of this than normal." Day 6 has begun! It will end on Wednesday at 9PM BST (GMT+1) Pilgras was an Aluminium Gnat under the employ of House Heron! Hyrun Tormander was a Smoker belonging to House Tormander! My thanks to Ashiok for help with his House ball. Player List

A bit more than an hour left for this Night.

Just an extension, that's all. I got a little bored and wanted to do a little RP, and I felt I should include the Spectators somehow in it.

"Hey, Pil?" "What is it?" The young boy, Pilgras, turned to his old friend. He rested on his shovel, knee-deep in ash in Lord Heron's grounds in the twilight hours. He knew he'd get in trouble for slacking off, but frankly he'd get in trouble for something pointless and pathetic anyway. A whipping for this or for something else, what did it matter? The Obligators just wanted an excuse to justify beating them. "Well, does something-" Old man Binnut (or Bin, as he insisted on being called, saying that Binnut was a noble's name) coughed violently, the hacking sound breaking through the silence of the night like a sharp knife. Pilgras waited patiently for his elder to finish his sentence. Bin wiped his mouth of phlegm and continued. "Does something seem a bit strange? About the sky, I mean?" In the week or so that Pilgras had known the man, he had seemed to permanently be in a bad shape. At first, when Binnut had been sent here from being a coach driver, he'd been beaten black and blue for being drunk on duty. Now he was catching his death of cold from working outside like this. He'd just been pretty much forgotten, probably left here to die where he stood as his true punishment, sweeping ash. All told, it wasn't so strange that Binnut was a bit jumpy. He was probably waiting for an Obligator's whip to finish him off. Dutifully, Pilgras looked up into the sky, shielding his eyes from the falling ash that was a constant presence in their lives. Everywhere around them, the mists swirled and gathered, making strange ghostly shapes in the night. It was creepy, he could see why the Skaa outside of Luthadel claimed that they held dangers. He didn't believe it though - he'd been in them all his life, after all. He thought he'd know if he were a Mistwraith. "I can't see anything," Pilgras muttered. He hadn't seen the ferocious monster that Binnut had seen earlier, either. 'Black, it was, with white patches all around. And it wore a hat and coat, like it thought it was people!', he had claimed. Well, old man Binnut had always been a little odd in the head, not that he would ever have said that out loud. "There's something there," Binnut said, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. He crouched down to Pilgras' height and put a hand around his shoulder, using his other to point upwards. "You see that patch where things are brighter? I swear that the sun's come back and is brightening up the sky again." Pilgras squinted as hard as he could, not wishing to call Binnut a liar just like that. But no, he couldn't see any difference in the colour of the mists. It was all just as grey and horrible as ever. "Well, sir, I reckon your eyes must be a lot better than mine to see that." Binnut's hand on his shoulder stiffened, and then he shook his head and stood back up, moving back over to the pile of ash he was gathering. "Nevermind. Forget I said anything. Just shut up and get on with your work." He took a swig from the small bottle on his belt, which smelt strongly of cheap alcohol. Drinking to forget his aches and pains. "I mean, it all looks the same to me. Just mist and ash, nothing interesting." "I said to get on with your work," Binnut poked him sharply in the ribs with his broom. Pilgras yelped and jumped back, muttering under his breath as he rubbed his chest. The old man was deceptively strong. "I'm just saying that you'd have to be one of them Mistborn or something-" "I told you to be quiet!" Binnut shouted, raising his broom as though he intended to club the boy to death with it. A figure put a hand on his shoulder from behind, a firm clapping noise in the night. Both of the Skaa froze, Pilgras looking at the figure, Binnut staring ahead at Pilgras with wide eyes. There was no longer accusation in that look; just fear. "You're nicked, sonny," Lord Heron said, a grin on his face as he pulled the axe he was holding in his other hand back and swung it forward at Binnut's chest. Binnut was a Skaa Tineye, under the employ of House Heron (but not a member of the Skaa Rebellion)! An extension has been granted! The Night will now end on Monday at 9PM BST (GMT+1)

Night 5 "I vote for Kalden!" Hadrian said, raising his hand almost instantly. "No, wait," he quickly lowered his hand back down as everyone turned to him with surprise as he voted for the current host. Then he raised it again. "I mean the other guy, Asyr Tuy! I mean, his is the only Great House that hasn't been hit." Mesist just sighed. They were stuck relying on their own wits, it seemed. Certainly he had nothing new to add to the debate. He sat on his chair on the upper tier, looking down on the crowd on the floor below, swirling the wine in his glass as he thought. Lord Heron seemed to want them to just attack each others' reputations as much as find Skaa. Maybe he was just hoping to find something out in the crossfire. He drained his glass and ordered a servant to refill it. He stared into the wine, his thirst disappearing as he thought. Had Kalden managed to find the only red wine in stock that looked like blood, or was he just tired? No, it was fear, disturbing as it was to think it. Every night, another death. If a Pewterarm such as Sylinia could die like that... A shadow passed over his wineglass, and he raised his head to see who else had shunned the gathering. Mailu Willen, one of the other Southern nobles. The Willens had bought horses from the A'lees, back in the good days for his House. Mesist stood up, trying to catch Mailu before he wandered off. "I have some questions for you, Mailu, about your votes during the last few balls." Mailu shrugged, retrieving his arm from Mesist's grasp. "Is it strange to think that I thought it a setup? Racine was a respected member of Luthadel high society - Not that I expect a horse breeder like you to understand the concept of 'high society'. And in the case of Wandrin... Well, who could have believed that bumbling fool could have remained hidden for any period of time?" "So what do you think today?" Mesist pressed, his eyes not leaving Mailu. "I'd be most interested to know what the great Lord Willen thinks." "I haven't decided yet," Mailu shrugged once again. "Though I find it interesting that you of all people would accuse me of this, A'lees," he continued. "I suppose it makes sense that you need to try and find something new to sell, with your House collapsing around your ears like that. Perhaps your previous dealings are a lesson for you and your kind, one that you should learn before you try and move in on my House's territory? Don't try dealing in anything smarter than you," he said with a small smile before walking off to his own table. Mesist watched him go, unable to quite formulate a response to that. Sure, he'd be the first to claim that horses were smarter than most people thought, but... His thoughts were interrupted by a loud clapping sound from the entrance to the ballroom. "Now this is a real ballroom!" Lord Urbain exclaimed as he entered the room, while the Terrisman permanently by his side just sighed. It seemed he didn't quite realise that he'd said that aloud. "Gamad, do me a favour and go and fetch me another glass of wine," he said, handing the steward his empty glass before walking forward again. "Time for another round of guess who!" Fien said as he approached the throng in the centre of the room. "So, no-one's managed to discover any dirty secrets overnight? No-one wants to come forward and just admit it? Nothing solid for us to go on for the moment?" he paused. "No? Very well then, it appears we'll have to do this the old fashioned way." "You seem annoyed, Fien," Hyrun said, an edge of concern in his voice. That didn't last too long though, replaced with condescension. "I'm sure there's nothing to be worried about. After all, there are many other members of House Urbain who were tricked, after all. You by Wandrin, Ren by his servant..." "That's not proven!" Fien said, clenching his fist in Hyrun's direction. He took a few deep breaths and lowered his arm slowly to his side. Hyrun was right though; Wandrin being Skaa was bad enough, but Ren's murder and Bamin's disappearance... It was too much for him. He reached over to Gamad, who had just returned with his wine. He reached over and drained the glass in one go, passing it back almost instantly. "Again," he said, his voice slightly raspy. Then he changed his mind. "No, something stronger." "So I guess we can't exactly rely on information for finding the rest of the Skaa," Fien continued once he had a moment to recollect his thoughts. "Likewise, whoever this 'Genie' fellow is, we can't just sit around and wait for them to peg the right target and find the Skaa. We shouldn't be relying on Informants or contacts or what have you. Just our own wit and skill." "Lord Ruler help us all," Heron muttered under his breath as he watched Fien suddenly break into a sweat as everyone looked at him, and attempt to cope with it by drowning himself with wine. The mumbled phrase seemed to be a sentiment that he was becoming all too used to expressing. "I agree with Lord Penrod," Alden said quietly, fidgeting a little under the gaze of the people around him. "I believe that Asyr Tuy is a Skaa, or at least he is in league with them." He swallowed nervously and continued. "I cannot provide much evidence, nor am I certain its the truth. I think we should look at why Lord Garde was attacked after his ball yesterday. I doubt it was a random act of opportunity. I believe Lord Erikell would agree with me." "Lord Izenry?" Kassel dropped his pencil in surprise as everyone looked to him. He stood up from the seat he had dragged down to the dance floor, flicking through his notebook as he looked for what Alden might be referring to. "I'm afraid I don't know what you might be referring to. Lord Gardre was always rather secretive. As for lord Tuy... I'm not sure of him, I admit, but I don't see why he could be responsible for his death." "I suppose you're right," Alden sighed, waving his hand at the group in a dismissive manner. "Nevermind, just ignore me." "I agree that it's strange that my allies I have remained unharmed," Asyr said, the old man tapping his cane against the floor for attention. "I can only assume that they killed Lord Gardre due to his nature as a Tineye, and ignored my associates due to the fact that they are not particularly well known. This doesn't exactly help us though, since it seems as though Lord Gardre told the whole world of his abilities. But I would like to know why they felt a mere Tineye was a threat." "And I'd like to know why Jae's being so quiet!" Fien said, waving in Lord Kastner's direction and spilling yet more wine on the Fathvell ballroom floor. "But it doesn't look like I'm going to get that information today either. We can't have everything we want, Asyr." "Ren actually contacted me before he died," Jain said, his voice weary and weak, as though he hadn't been sleeping well. It was the pressure, that was all. The politics and the death of his friends was getting to him. "He was wrong on a lot of things though. Like saying that my House employed a Kandra." "I think you need more sleep," Alden cut across him. "Or perhaps you need to look through Lady Seeris' documents a bit closer. Almost every noble family employs a Kandra." It was then that Kassel managed to find the page he was looking for. "I think I agree with Lord Izenry on this matter," he chimed in, showing the notebook off to the assembled, though his scratchy writing was almost impossible to read. "At the very least, he's lying about having a Kandra. And it's not that much of a loss... We do need this to progress as much as possible today." "I too believe that Lord Phantomhive is not particularly trustworthy," Lady Lekal said, scratching under one of her pet cat's chin. "I particularly don't want him in charge of Raisaal's Hazekillers and weaponsmiths. "Well, I might as well join in," Mesist said, from the tier above. "Jain's a Skaa." "Wait, what?" The somewhat ill boy squeaked, looking around. "You mean my brother, right? Not me?" "We'll split the votes evenly to make it fair," Lord Heron reassured him, and Jain perked up and relaxed a little. "But even then, you still have the most votes on you each. Besides, it's no great loss," he added as he grabbed the boy's shoulder and pushed the shaking boy towards the stairs at the back of the ballroom. "It might even be useful for me." "We will reconvene tomorrow, as is normal for us in these trying times," he said over his shoulder. "Don't worry too much, Lord Fathvell. My associate and I will try not to make too much of a mess," he added to Kalden. Jain whimpered a little in front of him as he walked, forced to march towards his death. * The large white and black creature sighed to himself as he stalked through Keep Seeris, with the slow and lumbering gait that had become normal to him these past weeks. How TelZaan wished that Sylinia had never listened to the young boy's flippant wishes. He'd never hear the end of this back in the Homeland. At least now he could remove this false body and gain a proper one back there. He'd probably try and find another corpse on the way though. It wouldn't be too hard - Luthadel was full of them if you looked in the slums. He stopped at the entrance and stood upon his hind legs, the giant creature seemingly doubling in size as it did so. The Kandra picked up a hat and a coat that hung on a coat rack and shrugged himself into it. It was extremely restricting, considering his bulk, but it hid his strange form slightly from a cursory glance. Looking back at the Keep that he had called home these past few years, he sighed once more, and then walked off into the mists. Night 5 has begun! It will end on Sunday Monday at 9PM BST (GMT+1), baring an extension being requested as an extension has been granted. Jain Phantomhive was a Noble Seeker belonging to House Seeris! TelZaan was a Kandra belonging to House Seeris! House Seeris has fled Luthadel! A player at random who voted for Jain has earned a House Power for their House Lord (who will receive a PM saying so), unless the selected player is Skaa. Jain Phantomhive (5): Alden Izenry, Kassel Erikell, Cat Lekal, Mesist A'lees Ashette Cett (2): Lightsworn Panda Asyr Tuy (1): Hadrian Penrod Jae Kastner (0): Fien Urbain My thanks to Kal Dell for help with his House ball. The next ball is at Keep Cett. I would be grateful if Ashiok could PM me any details to be included. Player List

I can confirm this fact. Kas has corrected me about my own rules recently after I misread them slightly >>. And the night is now over.

Just under two hours left today.

Day 5 Lord Gardre politely stood in the courtyard on the edge of the grounds, waiting for his guests to all depart in their carriages. He stood lost in his thoughts, unable to forget the previous few hours' events. Wandrin had been Skaa? But he had seemed so... So full of himself, so arrogant, so... so noble. And then there was how Wandrin's servant had defied his master like that. Well, he couldn't blame the man, considering his behaviour but... He glanced briefly at Bamin, trying to look away before he noticed. "My Lord?" Ren sighed. There was no getting out this, was there? "Bamin... You wouldn't do that to me, would you?" "Of course not, My Lord," Bamin said, smiling a little. "I have served your family for many years, and unlike Bwin and his master, I have found you to be pleasant company. Besides, I have no wish to incur the wrath of the Steel Ministry or the Inquisitors for acting as such." "The Inquisitors will go after Bwin? Isn't that a little much?" Bamin sighed. "Indeed, My Lord. It seems strange that they would concern themselves with simple servants, but it is one of their lesser known tasks. It used to be that the Canton of Hegemony would keep watch on the Terris Dominance, but that was hundreds of years ago. Their duties passed to the Canton of Inquisition after their dismissal. Whether it will be an Inquisitor who tracks him down or someone similar to Lord Heron will depend on a few other factors." "Huh," Ren nodded. "I didn't know it was their duty. I don't think I've even heard of that old Canton before, and I'm not exactly lax with my studies on the Steel Ministry." "It isn't something most people know. I suppose I only know of it due to being a Terrisman. We have long memories," he said, as he rearranged some of the metal bands on his arms. "Master, we should probably go inside at some point. It is starting to become cold, and considering what you are burning..." Ren smiled a little. "You're as superstitious as a Skaa sometimes, Bamin, wanting me to head away from the mists like this. But very well. Let's go and see how much of a mess Lord Heron has made of my Keep, shall we?" * Whatever mess Lord Heron had made, Ren immediately added to it on sight by throwing up violently, though he at least kept it to a corner. A table in the centre of the room held upon it a corpse of some kind. Superficially, it was of the same basic size as Wandrin, though the features were impossible to determine. Large metal spikes had been driven through the arms to keep it pinned there, and hammered through the table to the other side. The chest had been pierced through multiple times and then torn open. The spine was twisted and bent, though whether it was from thrashing around in pain or one of Lord Heron's methods of... persuading... he couldn't guess. He really didn't want to either. So much blood. The drying and browning liquid was everywhere: On the corpse, on the table, on the walls, on the mallets used to drive the spikes in, on the floor, everywhere. And the smell was even worse. Ren looked up from where he was heaving, leaning against the wall, and then instantly regretted it. Why had he come in here with his tin burning? The sight and smell would never leave him, he knew it. He felt a comforting hand on his back. "My Lord, I will get some servants to tidy this away." Ren opened his mouth to reply, and immediately regretted it, retching more bile up. "Burn..." He swallowed the acid back down with a grimace. "Burn it. Burn the corpse." He stumbled out of the room quickly, hand against the wall to steady himself. "I need air," he muttered. Yes, the cooling and refreshing mists would sort his head out. "Is that really wise, My Lord?" Bamin interjected. "If you recall, Lady Seeris was murdered on her own grounds yesterday." "I'll take some guards," Ren said, waving his Terrisman's concerns away. "Don't worry." "I feel that I should remind you that many of Lady Seeris' assailants were of her own staff, and perhaps even of her own guard. Indeed, Lady Elariel's abductor posed as a member of Lord Heron's guard. I fear that we cannot trust the hired help with such an important task as your safety." "Then you can follow me!" Ren said, walking off in a huff. "For The Lord Ruler's sake, I need some air, Bamin. If you're that concerned, then follow me and keep an eye on me." He put a hand to his head. "And get me a glass of water. Cold, if possible, from the icehouse. I'll at least wait for that." * Ren walked slowly over his grounds, traipsing through the gardens that were not well-kept or trimmed for the ball today. His tin allowed him almost perfect vision through the mists, so he wasn't too worried about being attacked. He only really had to worry about Tineyes and Mistborn in today's thicker mist, and he highly doubted that the Skaa had another Tineye if they had sent Racine to spy on them. And if he was faced with a Mistborn, well, there was nothing he could do anyway. He took a sip of his water and breathed deeply as he walked, Bamin keeping pace quietly behind him. It was still impossible to get that bloody visage out of his mind, even though nothing out here really reminded him of it. It was just that close to the forefront of his mind. He said nothing to Bamin as he walked, and the Terrisman seemed happy to leave him with his thoughts. He felt Bamin to be a little paranoid though, considering how he was looking around all the time as though he expected a skaa assassin to jump up from the grass beneath their feet and attack them. Though considering how tall it was, Ren wouldn't have been too surprised if there was one hiding underneath it. He'd have to get a gardener to cut it tomorrow. He eventually found himself meandering back to the fountain where the day's vote had taken place. It looked so lifeless and dull compared to just a few hours ago. The torches had long since died, and the tents had a small coating of water and ash upon them. He decided to sit at one of the tables for a short while, the Terrisman standing behind him. "Stop hovering," he eventually said, gesturing to the seat opposite him. "Sit down. You're making me anxious." "I am afraid I must decline, Master Gardre," he said with a shake of his head. "I may not be trained in combat, but I am still the only one here to defend you if an attacker appears." Ren sighed. "I think the Skaa have more pressing targets than someone who can't even tidy his Keep and its grounds properly for a ball. Besides, I'll hear anyone approaching before they get close enough to attack." "A Coinshot could attack without you knowing," Bamin pointed out. Ren nodded hesitantly. "I suppose they could, couldn't they?" He placed his hands on the table and pushed himself up, not really wanting to expend the effort of doing it all himself. He just felt lethargic today. Perhaps it was playing host that did it to him, or perhaps it was his visit of that room, the sight and stench of death depriving him of vitality. "If it will stop you worrying, let's go inside." He paused briefly at the fountain in the centre of his Keep's front grounds as he passed it, looking into the water. He chuckled a little at the Boxing that someone had tossed in, half buried under ash, impossible to see but for his tin. "It seems as though one of our guests thought it a wishing well, Bamin." He got no immediate response, and turned around. "Bamin?" A powerful hand grabbed his neck inexpertly and plunged his head into the water, toppling him off his feet with the force put behind it. Ren fell into the fountain with a splash, his eyes stinging from the charcoal that floated within the water. He struggled and thrashed around, trying to grasp at the arm that pushed him under. He managed to gain some ground, wiggling out of his assailant's grip and breaking the surface of the water with a gasp. His vision was blurry and he couldn't see easily, but his tin helped to define the image in front of him quickly. A tall figure, strong and well defined muscles on his forearms glistening as they dripped water into the fountain. "Bamin?" Ren repeated, disbelief prominent in his voice, fear a close second. "What are you-" Suddenly, Bamin had moved, a blur as he was suddenly at Ren's head again, forcing him under the water before he had even been given a chance to catch a deep breath in preparation. He clawed at Bamin's hands, but this time the Terrisman had a proper grip on him. Bubbles of air escaped him as he failed to hold his breath. His lungs started to burn, his eyes ached with the pain of being kept open in the ashen water, and the world started to slowly fade. When did he get so strong...? * House Fathvell was an old and established House in Luthadel, and this was evident most of all in the fantastic stained glass windows surrounding in their ballroom, each depicting a scene of The Lord Ruler's reign, all the way from his ascension to more recent events. The room was built in a two-tiered manner, with the higher level surrounding the ballroom in the middle. The ballroom area was kept clear of non-dancers, and it had been polished to a high sheen. A podium graced the back of the lower tier, where a conductor led a large band of musicians as was the custom at Luthadel balls. The higher tier was somewhat protected from the noise of the orchestra - not that they played badly - to facilitate deals and discussions at the tables placed there. Surrounding the walls below the stained glass windows were great fires of various colours. Every so often, a servant would throw a handful of dust onto the flames, sending them into a cascade of colour. At the end of the higher tier, a large set of double glass doors led onto a balcony. It was said that the Fathvell kept a Tineye under the balcony, to overhear any private deals being made. On the other side of the higher tier, another set of stars spiralled round and led up to a private balcony overlooking the entire room, far away from the din of music and chatter. It was a place for the Steel Ministry to congregate and discuss important matters, and it was rumoured that the Fathvells had invited another Inquisitor to keep on hand, rather than the one Lord Heron brought or sent previously. Lord Heron himself leant against the balcony looking over the dance floor, watching each of the nobles arriving from far away. He seemed to be completely healthy once more, though somewhat tired and strained. As with the previous days, he waited until they all arrived before saying anything. "Well?" He asked, as they looked to him. "You all know what you're meant to do. Talk, lie, scheme," he said with a wave of his hand. "Whatever you do, just get on with it today." Day 5 has begun. It will end on Saturday at 9PM BST (GMT+1). Ren Garde was a Tineye, belonging to House Urbain! My thanks to Kal Dell for help with his House ball. Player List

An extension has been granted. The Night will now end on Thursday at 9PM BST (GMT+1) Oh clarifications, how I missed thee... The 'overspill' damage from Improved Weaponry applies to both Coinshots and Skaa, but only if the target dies. Only one point of damage can overspill this way. If there are no other players in the House, nothing happens with it. Improved Weaponry can be used on players not from your House. You cannot use something that someone has told you as an Informant truth, even if they swear blind that it is. This is because you have no idea if they are being truthful or not.

Night 4 "Who would like to begin today's proceedings?" For a long while, nobody spoke. There was a shuffling of feet as people tried to look in any direction other than at Lord Heron, who was just sitting there calmly with a glass of wine. "Well?" he prompted, offering his glass to a servant for a refill. "Surely the death of Lady Seeris would provoke some discussion. Tell me of her enemies! Of her friends! Just say something, rust you all!" The assembled remained quiet, the only noise in the garden being the constant tumbling sound of the waterfall. Everyone seemed unsure of themselves, or at least they wanted other people to go first and save them the embarrassment of being wrong if they chose incorrectly. "This is no time to be politically minded," Heron muttered. "It seems this city just isn't safe for the womenfolk anymore," Mesist said, just to fill the silence a little. "Suppose I'm not surprised that the Skaa went after them first. Bunch of cowards, the lot of them. Even Lord Urbain wouldn't do such a thing," he added, though the jibe was only half-serious this time. He was being slowly beaten down by Luthadel, not that he would admit it. The place just had an oppressive atmosphere, doubly so with the events of this week. Almost like a constant Soothing. How he longed to be back home, where he could enjoy riding through the plains of the Southern Dominance. With his House's luck though, he wouldn't be able to do that there for much longer. "If I may ask a question?" Ren said, looking around at the assembled and stirring them from their silent thoughts. Clearly he was thinking even more along political lines, being new to the area and not wanting to offend people as a host. "I wish to know about Lord Kastner's reasonings during the previous ball." Heron sighed and waved him on. "Ask your question," he said, permitting the action with clear weariness. "It doesn't look too much like you will get an answer, however." "Speaking of previous days," Asyr said, the older noble clearing his throat to speak, "I want to know why Lord Phantomhive decided it would be better to make requests of the deceased Lady Raisaal's band rather than talk about this." While the quiet accusations continued, Hadrian couldn't help but frown. Was this really how they did things here? There were murderers amongst them, in the sense of killing people who mattered rather than just Skaa, and they just discussed it amongst themselves? He quietly excused himself and disappeared into the study to find a servant as Ashette distracted them, saying something and then furiously denying that she'd said anything at all before anyone could catch it. When he returned later (he would have to suggest to Lord Garde that his servants worked quicker in the future), it didn't seem as though he had missed anything. People were still standing around, saying nothing and doing nothing. Picking the sack up that the servant had given him, he through it as Lord Nuvidas' head. It exploded in a cloud of dull grey ash, coating the noble as though he had been rolling around in it from the day he was born. "You have been as silent as a Skaa!" Hadrian said, a grin across his face. "Well, now you look like one too!" As Wandrin stood up and began to shout angrily at Hadrian, Mesist walked over and clapped Hadrian on the back. "Impressive work. It seems as though they aren't just cowards, but they're a bunch of silent cowards too." "I-what did you say about me?!" Wandrin asked, drawing himself up to his (somewhat unimpressive) full height. "Why, next you will be saying that Lord A'lees is intelligent, or Lady Sylinia was a Mistborn, or... or that Erikell is secretly a Terrisman! If you want to find the Skaa amongst us, perhaps you should look in a mirror!" "I think the fact that Wandrin claims he isn't Skaa is proof enough that he is," Mesist said snidely. Lord Ruler knew the man wouldn't be able to find his backside without a map. He turned to the crowd. "Anyone else agree?" "I mean no offence by this, Lord A'lees," Ren said, spreading his hands out in a reconciliatory gesture and carefully wording his suggestion, "but following you did not go so well for us yesterday. I would like to hear more before I vote." "Lord Ruler, most nobles would pay good money to be put into a position where the Inquisition supports you killing your rivals off," Lord Heron muttered as he stood up, hiding a grimace. Moving closer to the light, it was apparent how pale he was. He spared a moment to glare at whichever Jain it was, since they were voting for themselves. Maybe Jain thought he was voting for his brother instead of himself, or something. It was unlikely that the boy would die from his gaze, but hope sprung eternal. "The question we must consider," Kassel said, writing down his thoughts and unaware that, to the current discussion, this was a complete tangent, "is how Lady Seeris was able to be killed by a few Skaa. Even if she had three or four assassins after her, she was a Pewterarm. She should have been able to fight them off. And then there's the Soothing..." he trailed off when he noticed everyone was looking at him, trying to find the connection between discussions. "...I mean, I believe that Wandrin is a Skaa too," he said. "What was he even doing this last few days?" "I have a life outside of these meetings, so you know," Wandrin said. "Unlike most of you all, I don't just sit around all day waiting for the next ball. Why, the name of Nuvidas is known throughout the Central Dominance as the watchword in detecting, and perhaps even further beyond that!" "We haven't heard anything from Finch either," Mailu said, cutting across Wandrin's outburst before another argument broke out. "What does he make of this?" Finch looked up from his table, where a large plate of food was placed in front of him. He tapped the butt of his knife on the table a few times as he thought, then shrugged. "I'm not too sure really. I'd need to think about it more first." Lord Izenry fidgeted a little with his hat, wary of the fact that he would be put under scrutiny once again. He wasn't exactly the most reputable of the people there for guessing correctly, after all. "I'm not certain about this either, if I am honest," he admitted. "Consider that no-one has spoken up for him. Either he's not Skaa, or they can stand to lose him." "So what do you offer as an alternative, Alden?" Heron asked, watching him carefully. "If not Wandrin, then who?" Alden flinched a little as his eyes drifted to Lord Heron's Canton of Inquisition tattoo above his eyes. He felt as though he was being judged, particularly after Racine had turned out to be supporting the Skaa like that. "Well, Lady Cett and Lord Phantomhive have been acting odd, and Lord Fathvell's been unhelpful, and Lady Lekal isn't necessarily cleared..." "But you won't accuse anyone over it?" Lord Heron asked, sighing when Alden shook his head. "Fine. Then does anyone else having something to add in favour or against Wandrin?" "I find it ridiculous that you all accept a single person's word on this matter," Wandrin said as he dusted himself down a bit. How do we know that Hadrian isn't Skaa?" he asked, pointing a cane at the young Lord. "For that matter, why would you trust someone who decides that the way to accuse someone is to ruin a decent suit?" "I suppose I should explain," Kassel said, cutting in before Lord Penrod could speak again. He put his paper down on the fountainside, carefully making sure they wouldn't fall into the water. "I have heard many things about Lord Nuvidas these last few weeks, from a real detective." He ignored Wandrin's indignant spluttering. "I was informed that he is a Soother as well, so he may try to stop us by using emotional Allomancy. Just something to be wary of." "It seems as though we are in some kind of agreement, for a change. All who support this accusation?" Lord Heron asked. He counted the hands raised. Ten of them. Nine nobles, and... Wait, should he count that ninth hand? Wandrin turned to his Terrisman, Bamin, who was looking away from his master. "You traitor!" he shouted, making a grab for the much taller man's arm and trying unsuccessfully to pull it down. The servant remained resolute and refused to budge. "You could at least make this somewhat respectable," Mesist said reproachfully. "Racine managed it, after all. A real class act. Tonul as well, and he was completely innocent." Wandrin stopped at his futile attempt, whirling around at everyone. He burnt brass and released a Soothing pulse at all those around him, flaring it as much as possible. The oppressive atmosphere strengthened upon almost all of them as their emotions were slowly repressed one by one, leaving them feeling empty inside. Then it suddenly stopped as a clip struck Wandrin's leg, and he collapsed onto the ground, a scream of pain escaping him as he landed on the coin embedded within his shin. Lord Heron advanced, another few coins in his hand, ready to be fired again. "You really think I wouldn't have brought some Copperclouders to prevent this from happening?" He walked forward and pulled the whimpering Wandrin up by his arm, dropping him on his leg. Ignoring another howl of pain, Wyrm turned to Lord Garde. "I promise not to make your Keep too bloody," he said, before hauling Wandrin away. Half an hour later, Lord Heron returned, seeming disappointed, but a bit more cheerful than before. There was more colour on his face, though admittedly some of it was blood. He threw a vial of brass to Fien, who ended up tossing it between his hands a few times before managing to catch it without dropping it onto the floor. "Disgraceful," Wyrm simply said, giving a single disapproving look towards the House Lord in question, before continuing past the fountain and leaving. Night 4 has begun. An extension has been granted, and so it will end on Thursday at 9PM BST (GMT+1). Wandrin Nuvidas was a Skaa Soother, claiming to belong to House Urbain! The next ball will be held at House Fathvell. If Kal Dell could send me a description of his Keep's ball, as the others have done, it would be much appreciated. Wandrin Nuvidas (10): Hadrian Penrod, Mesist A'lees, Kassel Erikell, Jain Phantomhive, Cat Lekal, Fien Urbain, Finch Fain, Ashette Cett, Asyr Tuy Finch Fain (1): Mailu Willen Jae Kastner (1): Ren Garde Player List

Day 4 has ended! Sorry, I forgot to post an hour beforehand as a warning, but extra votes wouldn't have made a difference here at all.

Ah, actually kind of glad then that I didn't get in to play Magic - I would've had to have left before they even started to get my train back, which would've ruined things a bit for them.

What time did he turn up there, in the end?

I asked the following (paraphrased. If Paperclip doesn't forget his phone, he'll have the proper text. I don't remember quite how I phrased the first question. I intended to draw a connection to Awakening, not sure if it I did immediately or not.) Q: Can you could Hemalurgically Spike a dead thing, similar to how Breath goes into dead things? Could you spike a Lifeless? A: Yes, if there was enough of the soul left for the Spike to take. (I regret not asking if Allomantic Lifeless could be a thing) Q: What would happen if you made a cup of tea from the Flowers of Edgli? A: You would have a very interesting cup of tea. I got a RAFO card for one of these, but he didn't mention which, sadly. Was a shame that there were only five Sharders (who said they would be there on the forum), really, but there were a lot more people than he expected it seems. Just meant that we got less questions than we would like answered.

Day 4 Sylinia took a carriage back to House Seeris, mindful of what had happened just two days ago to Quitania. She wasn't too worried about her carriage being highjacked - Her driver had been working for the House for many years, and she had a few guards following behind in case anything did happen. Caution was important, after all, and considering that there were two high-profile deaths from the Skaa, she was willing to appear a little more foolish until it all blew over. No House survived long by being reckless in Luthadel. Whether because she was being overly careful or because the guards deterred an attack, Sylinia had an uneventful trip back to Keep Seeris. She stepped out of the carriage, aided as ever by her Terrisman. It was best to present the image of a dainty creature outwardly. It meant that people underestimated you. Jain was waiting for her. Or was it actually Jain? She shook her head. She'd never been able to tell the two apart. Even their Allomancy was the same. It was honestly rather disturbing, and something she'd prefer not to think about. It gave her headaches whenever she tried to figure these two out. "Are all the guards ready?" Sylinia asked. Jain nodded a little. "Raisaal are charging us more for their Hazekillers though. Cadri's death hit them hard." Sylinia sighed. "I'll talk to them tomorrow. Return to your Keep. I will see you at Garde's ball tomorrow." Jain nodded and climbed into the coach that Sylinia had just exited, before heading off with the guards. Sylinia herself headed into her Keep, a set of Hazekillers watching her. Raisaal might be attempting to bleed Seeris dry in compensation for Cadri's death at their shared enemy's hands, but even with the price hike it was still worth keeping them on-staff in these dangerous times. Sylinia took a glass of wine with her up to her study. She had contracts that needed signing, and after that she also needed to re-evaluate a few things, with Tonul's death. She grimaced a little as she remembered the bloody spike left behind. It seemed that no-one was safe from the Inquisitors' arm here. Probably not even herself, even as the head of a Great House. She sat down and lit a candle at her desk, before rifling through the many reports she needed to read though. It would be difficult to finish them all tonight, even if she stayed up all night. She took a vial of metal out from her desk, removed the stopper and dropped the shavings into the wine. She swirled the glass around a little and then drank it, scowling somewhat at the taste. It was never nice to have to drink metal filings like that, but it had to be done. She had so much work to do these days that it was a necessity in order to stay awake. A headache came over her an hour or so later. It felt like the sort that one had from burning a poor alloy, but she knew that her metals were as Allomantically accurate as they could be. She looked at the glass. Considering that Cadri had died due to her habits, perhaps it wasn't such a great idea to be predictable at the moment. She stopped burning her pewter, and instead of dying off, the headache increased and she started sweating. Immediately she started to use her metal again. So, it was poison. Probably not too much, or else it would have changed the taste enough for her to immediately notice - though the pewter sediment would have stopped her from noticing as well. She laughed a little. The Skaa probably had no idea how tough pewter made your body. This was so little that she could practically ignore it, given enough water. She reached over to the side of her desk and rang the bell for a servant. A Terrisman entered the room. "What can I do for you, My Lady?" Sylinia held up her wine glass for him to take. "Someone tried to poison me, Vorun. Bring me a large glass of water and something to eat to counteract it." Vorun waited a short while as he processed all the information. "Yes, My Lady," he said, bowing before leaving to attend to his task. Sylinia returned to her writing as she waited for her servants to bring her food and drink. It wasn't just that it would help dilute the poison, she was somewhat hungry after the A'lees ball. That was a host who didn't really know how to feed his guests. He probably had no idea, considering his background in the Southern Dominance. It wouldn't lead to people visiting very often, particularly since his House was supposedly failing like that. The door opened again, and another servant, this one a Skaa, wheeled in a covered tray. "Put it on my desk," Sylinia ordered, not looking around as she continued to sign a new contract. The servant walked over and started unloading it onto the desk. "You are dismissed," she continued. The servant wheeled the tray away again, closing the door. Sylinia stopped her writing and picked up a fork to start on her food. She paused as she heard something from behind her. She pushed herself out of where she was sitting at the same moment that her supposed-servant brought down a duelling cane on the chair. She landed on her feet on the floor next to the 'servant' and reached out, grabbing the duelling cane and using her enhanced strength to grab it off them. She brought it up and around, flaring pewter and smashing it into her attacker's head. They crumpled onto the floor as the cane smashed and splintered with the collision. Sylinia calmly tossed the fractured staff aside and pulled on the bell rope. She'd need to have this cleared up, but then she could return to her work. She was fast running out of pewter though with that brief exertion, and she took another vial out from her desk. Another Skaa servant appeared a few seconds later, flinching upon sight of her attacker. "If they're alive, send them to Lord Heron, with my compliments," Sylinia said to him. "But in either case, tidy up the mess." The Skaa nodded and bowed. "Yes, My Lady." Sylinia stepped out of her study onto the balcony as she waited for him to finish with his duties. She wouldn't be able to work while that was going on, and she really needed to clear her head a bit before delving back into it anyway. Really, sending one person to attack a pewterarm? If they made that mistake, perhaps the nobles didn't have to worry about this at all. She saw a glint of metal in the distance, but she was no Tineye. She couldn't make it out properly in the darkness. She moved forwards a little to get a better look, leaning on the handrail of the balcony. Then the arrow struck her arm. She bit back a wordless shout of pain and ducked down, pulling the arrow out of the wound carefully and examining it. The blood on the arrow, and in her wound, was a sticky black-red colour. Were they really trying to kill her with poison? Well, they were failing with actual attacks. She heard a shout from the Keep grounds, roughly in the direction of her attacker. It seems that they'd got them. Certainly no more arrows were coming in her direction, but that didn't mean that they were gone. They could just be biding their time. Sylinia carefully stood up, holding one of the balcony chairs in front to defend herself against any more arrows, and straining her eyes to see out onto the grounds. There were no more sparkles of light reflected off metal out on the grounds again, but a group of torches seemed to be clustered in one place. It seemed as though the guards using them were examining something. Maybe they'd got her attacker. She stood up properly to have a better look over the balcony. Then someone put their hands on her shoulders and pushed. * The House of Gardre weren't exactly well known in Luthadel. They had to leave around a decade ago due to making a few too many enemies, and it was only now that one of them had returned. Even Ren hadn't spent too much time in the Keep, and it really wasn't prepared properly. There was just too much of it to clean and prepare in time. And so, Ren decided that the best place to hold the ball was outside, where an army of gardeners had been at work hacking away at the jungle that had formed there over the last ten years. For the most part, it had worked, and a uniform lawn had been designated for the ball. A large, octagonal fountain took pride of place in the centre of the area. The fountain was illuminated from below the water surface, with small fires set behind glass around the edge of the octagon. A statue of The Lord Ruler adorned the top of it, staring down at everyone with a stern but benevolent gaze. Around the fountain, paths lead away in each of the eight directions to a tent where seats were placed for socialising. On each of the tent poles, a torch blazed, lending an ethereal light to the mists that swirled around. The Keep itself was mostly off-limits, but the ground floor study was left open. All of the letters of correspondence had been removed, and instead the large desk was covered with various foods and drinks that the nobles could help themselves to, or get a servant to bring to them. A fire blazed there, contrasting the heat of the study with the cool and refreshing air of outdoors. Lord Heron was there in one of the tents, though he seemed somewhat paler than the last time he had been seen, back at the Raisaal ball. "It seems that you didn't quite manage to get things right, yesterday," he said, breaking briefly to cough into a handkerchief. He stowed it away in his pocket and continued. "Sylinia Seeris died last night. Jain Phantomhive is now head of House Seeris, may The Lord Ruler help them," he added the last part in a mumble. "Who would like to begin today's proceedings?" This writeup does not suggest whether the attacker was either injured or not by Sylinia. Or for that matter that Sylinia was at full health before this attack and required this many hits to die (four, I think. Pewterarms just won't die though, will they?). Day 4 has begun. It will end on Tuesday at 9PM BST (GMT+1). Thanks to Renegade for the description of his House's ball. Sylinia Seeris was a Pewterarm belonging to House Seeris! Jain is now Lord of House Seeris. Player List

Your time is up. The Night has ended.

See you guys there.

Wurum "The King" Heron, signing up. Should be able to continue my game easily enough while doing this due to rollover times (morning post here, evening post writeup ). Wurum rather likes it on the coast here in Telmont - In fact, his whole business is based on that single fact. This is because he's a smuggler of goods from across the seas. Its rather dangerous and expensive due to the fact that he is at the mercy of the Highstorms, but he's kind of got that covered - Wurum began life training to be a Stormwarden. It was from this that he realised that the ability to shave off a few minutes travel here and there and avoid patrols would put him in the perfect position to get extra goods in under the cover of a Highstorm. As the town's only Stormwarden, the inhabitants tend to turn a blind eye towards his more illegal activities, though they are grateful for the lower prices and more abundant goods during high taxation and in the colder months. Wurum likes to present himself as a businessman and merchant more than a Stormwarden, as some are unnerved by his ability to calculate when the next Highstorm will occur. Not that he won't use this to his advantage by reading in the presence of people he wishes to do business with. Wurum brings a lot of 'trade' into the town, and hires a lot of the locals as porters and sailsmen (and also salesmen). All told, he tends to lean on being a more benevolent crook as he believes that the town would get pretty sick of him if he was more cut-throat. Some claim that he has a Shardblade, taken from the cold, dead hands of an assassin hired by the local nobility, though no-one has ever seen it - at least, no-one who has continued living afterwards. He denies these rumours strongly, which only makes them more believable. He is slightly unnerved by the presence of both the Windrunners and the Skybreakers in the town though, it must be said. Neither look too kindly on those who break the law, though at least the Windrunners would look past it to the good he does for the town, even if it has its roots in greed and selfishness. ...I have just realised that I've set myself up for an RP-based death on Cycle 1. Oh well.

Night 3 The nobles stood around on the A'lees barges, walking carefully so they did not trip and fall in the river. No doubt this was one of Mesist's plans to make them all seem foolish, but the alternative to appearing cautious was even worse. A few of the lucky nobles had their Terrisman standing beside them, a parasol held over them. The rest were periodically dusting themselves down. No matter how ashen they were becoming though, they were all failing to disguise the glares in their host's direction. Mesist took this in stride. It was what he had intended to do, after all. He flashed a grin back at Fien Urbain. The fool's usual hideous garb was covered completely in ash - His Terrisman seemed more concerned with keeping himself neat than his master - and he didn't even notice. "It's good to see that you've finally grown out of that hideous orange shirt, Lord Urbain. If only outwards." "Lord A'lees," Fien said, a cheerful and slightly manic smile across his face as he held a hand over the top of his glass to keep the ash out, "I must commend you on this party. I doubt anyone else could have pulled this off. Only you have the imagination to copy every other ball you've been to and then leave out all the good bits, such as a roof." "Why, I would have thought that the most important part of a ball was to have guests, Fien," Mesist chuckled. "So I think my 'copying' worked better than your attempt yesterday." Fien just scowled in response and finished his glass of wine in one go. "You are remiss in your duties as a host, A'lees - my glass is empty," he said, holding it out. "But I'm sure that it won't remain that way for long...?" Mesist gritted his teeth and swiped the wineglass from Fien's paw. He opened another bottle and, making sure that some ash fell in the glass first, poured him another before handing it back, spilling half of it in the process. He waited until Fien started drinking, and then sprung his trap. "So they say that Lady Raisaal was seen leaving your room yesterday." Fien coughed and spluttered into his wine and dropped his glass onto the edge of the bar, where it rolled off into the river. "You can't-! Why would-? How dare you-!" "In the Southern Dominance, people tend to finish their sentences, Fien." "I've heard all about what people do in the Southern Dominance, and I have no intention of copying you," Fien muttered, grabbing another glass from the table. "Tell me, was the Mistborn hers as well? Or did you manage to offend more people last night than one might expect even from you? They even rumour that you managed to kill it somehow, though I wouldn't believe that for a second unless you had a drinking contest with it." "Who told you about that?" Fien asked, looking around at each of the other nobles. Which one of them could have told them? Well, anyone, really, considering how fast news spread. If he couldn't keep the fact that Cadri was killed in his Keep from getting out, he wasn't particularly bothered about it becoming known that his Terrisman could kill Mistborn like that. Though he was still curious about that himself, if truth be told. Mesist waved a hand at everyone here. "Oh, a hawk told me," he said dismissively. "But that's all old news, anyway," he added as he watched Tonul Venture climb the podium on the Heron's Hunting Ground barge. "It seems the festivities are about to begun," he clapped his hands in a small display of excitement and wandered off across the barges, leaving Fien there on his own. Though considering he was next to the drinks, maybe that wasn't the best move he could have made. "Fellow nobles," he heard Tonul say as he approached, "we have suffered losses at the hands of this conspiracy that Lord Heron showed us. But let us not forget that we have already rooted out a traitor! Sitting quiet and not discussing things only helps them, so let's get some discussion going." At this, he span on his heels and jabbed a finger out at Cat Lekal. Mesist sighed and shook his head. Was he suspicious of Cat? Of course - you'd have to be a fool to not be suspicious of anyone here at all. And then that slightly not-together girl Ashette joined in, though she didn't give a reasoning with it. It seemed as though things fell apart a little when Lord Heron wasn't there to keep an eye on things. "Tonul, I find it curious that you accuse someone like that. Particularly when you seemed quite eager to offer up information to Racine Morinthe yesterday. In fact, as I recall, you were playing a game with us all right from the start, using emotional allomancy on us at Lord Heron's ball." "You would have done the same if someone in your House was about to be killed for no good reason," Lord Venture replied as he looked over at Mesist. "But it's not as though I was the only one who played around with emotions back then," he said in an accusing but general tone. Mesist waved it away as he climbed up onto the gallows that had been constructed. He was quite pleased with that. A public hanging wasn't exactly something that they were used to here. Maybe it would give them a bit of a scare. It was almost like one of Cadri's favoured blood sports. She would have appreciated this joke. ...He decided to stop there before he started to consider that he might miss her. That was dangerous territory. "I believe that Ashette is acting suspiciously," Alden said, a little hesitance in his voice. He didn't want to speak up, most likely because he thought he might be wrong again. It was understandable; he was certainly still shaken over Racine's betrayal. Was it enough to ignore his suggestions? Probably not. He may have trusted the wrong person, but it was too easy to say that it made his contributions worthless. But he said little more than that. "Sylinia Seeris is being rather quiet," Fien said, looking over at her table. "What's wrong, Syl? Nothing to say? Wait, has anyone seen Wandrin whatshisface around lately? Ha, that's a mystery for him to solve!" Mesist sighed and put a hand over his face. A shame that Cadri didn't manage to finish the job yesterday. Hell, she could have done that and then died, and then he'd be ridden of both these headaches. A shape descended onto the barge and landed on the gallows in a crouch. His landing unbalanced the barge, and threatened to trip them all up - Fien was already legless enough to trip and land in a pile of ash. That alone was worth holding this event outside "Well, it seems that we need to come to a decision for the day," Mesist said, leaning against the vertical beam of the gallows that Inquisitor Belmark had just landed on. That was rather impressive, he had to admit - the only metals in the thing were the nails that kept it together. To balance on the crossbeam without unbalancing... Well, Inquisitors certainly deserved their fearsome reputation, it seemed. He was rather glad that he'd never met one in the Southern Dominance. "Already?" Tonul asked, a hint of fear rising into his voice since he was one of the few whose guilt had been discussed so far. "We need more time! We could even wait until tomorrow, one day won't matter too much..." "Do you really want to be the one to tell an Inquisitor to wait?" Fien said, shrugging a little. "Might as well kill you now, it'd be kinder." Tonul paled. "You- you can't just kill me like this! You don't get to kill people based on a popular vote! The Lord Ruler would never allow such a thing! It's never happened like this in the entire history of the Empire! What would he say if everyone started doing things like this?" "I believe that's called a House War," Mesist said dryly. "As I understand it, they're quite popular here in Luthadel. You might have read about them in your books." "But that's different!" Tonul said, tripping over the gallow base slightly as he paced around, trying to speak to each of his attackers. He caught himself before he fell, but that didn't make the situation much better. "That's just politics! This is... This is completely different. What would The Lord Ruler say if he saw us all just picking people at random like this?" From his perch up above, Belmark finally spoke. "He would say that he found your lack of enthusiasm for rooting out the Skaa to be... disappointing." Tonul shivered as the Inquisitor's raspy tone of voice cut right through him, straight to the fear deep inside of him. "I'm enthusiastic! I was the first person to accuse someone today! They wouldn't even have started if it wasn't for me!" He sighed and took a deep breath. Then he took a few more. "Oh, rust..." he muttered, as he slowly started to build up the courage he needed. If only he could Riot his own emotions. But even if he couldn't, it seemed that someone else had the same idea as him. A calmness came over him as someone Soothed away his trepidation and left only contented peace. It could have been a kindness, or it could have been to ensure he didn't escape his fate. He couldn't say, but at this point he didn't really care. "I apologize if I've wasted precious time through my Allomancy. The skaa have shown themselves to be more intelligent than we have given them credit for, and they have sown chaos throughout this group. Mesist, I think that you have done a great job in trying to root out the skaa, and as such, I trust you will do a good job further. I wish the rest of you good luck in finding these Skaa, and then killing them mercilessly." "Well, that's nice of you to say so," Mesist nodded. No need to be uncivil about things to a dying man (who wasn't named Fien Urbain), after all. Belmark shook his head at their antics. "I have heard enough," he declared, dropping down on Tonul from above. The Venture Lord gave a brief shriek as the Soothing stopped before there was the heavy sound of his head colliding with the wooden deck of the gallows base. Tonul wasn't dead though - he was still breathing. Perhaps he was just that unlucky. The Inquisitor then picked up his body and slung Tonul over his shoulder. "I will return in a few hours," he said to the quiet crowd, before Steelpushing away. "...That bastard!" Mesist shouted, after he was certain that Belmark couldn't hear him. "I go and build him a lovely set of gallows and for what? So he can splinter the boards and then never use it! That ungrateful bastard!" He kicked the supporting beam for added emphasis. It didn't do anything, except maybe make him look a little silly and hurt his foot a bit, but he felt better for it. * Belmark dropped back in an hour and a half later, in very much the same way as before, a thud of something metalling hitting the deck and him descending shortly afterwards. His hands were bloody, and he did not bring Tonul - or his body - back with him. "An example has been made of Tonul for his failure to sufficiently root out the Skaa amongst you." That was all he said on the subject. "Where is the next ball going to be held?" "House Gadre," Ren offered, a little nervously. Like Mesist, he'd never seen an Inquisitor before, and the sight of one was rather terrifying. The extra height provided by the gallows stand didn't help either. The Inquisitor nodded. "Lord Heron will be there, if he can." Then he Steelpushed back into the mists. Nobody went to follow his lead and leave, at least not immediately - they were too busy staring at what he had used for transport: a bloody metal spike. Night 3 has begun! It will last 48 hours, because I am requesting an extension and my vote counts for three people. It will therefore end at 9PM BST (GMT+1) on Sunday. Tonul Venture was a Noble Rioter belonging to House Venture! Cat Lekal has stepped down as Lady of House Elariel in favour of Hadrian Penrod. Tulir (5): Mesist A'lees, Jae Kastner, Hadrian Penrod, Asyr Tuy, Ashette Cett Ashiok (1): Alden Izenry Wandrin Nuvidas (1): Ren Garde Sylinia Seeris (1): Fien Urbain Player List

The day has ended!

It is a valid truth to say that someone was targeted by an action without including who did it. The only person who can do that, however, is the person who did that action, or a Seeker who notices it through their action. For example, if a Seeker discovered that someone was able to burn a metal, they can put that metal into the Informant before the other person can, as a truth. They do not need to add who they are - The information can be added anonymously. The danger there is, of course, that someone else will put that in first. The person targeted cannot put in that they were Rioted or Soothed though, because they have no idea which it could have been - or even if they might have lost that vote (or not) due to injury. Also, to answer your question, while I may change how peoples' truths are phrased just a little to ensure that none stand out as more or less likely to be GM truths, I do not alter the content of the information people put in. There are six and a half hours left in this cycle.

Indeed, House Morinthe was a Lesser House. For the sake of it, I will make a tally of all the votes so far: Cat Lekal (1): Tonul Venture. ...That was easier than normal. If only it was like this every Day Turn. 29 hours left, guys.