Araris Valerian

Sure. Do you want to be spectator/pinch-hitter instead?

The trait thing is more for you, to get people thinking a bit about their character.

Glad to have you, though I'll need a name young sir.

Correct. And no, pinch-hitters can build their own characters or play as the original, up to them. I'm sure I can work out any continuity issues that arise.

Wendarr cracked his door open to peer onto the street, which was enshrouded by the Deepness despite the early hour. The road was empty as far as he could see, evidence of the violent sickness that had overtaken some who ventured out at night. Despite his own fear, the whispers in Wendarr’s head had grown louder over the recent weeks, until he could no longer resist them. Burn! Destroy the town! Kill! He shook his head, returning to the present. Surely only the divine could speak into the mind of a person directly. Wendarr stepped out onto the street, flinching as his stomach rumbled. He glanced furtively around again despite the poor visibility of the early evening. The guiding voice had no advice on staying fed, and last year’s harvest had been the worst in the history of the Copper’s Bend. Folk had only survived by trading their ore with Alendi’s passing army, but those supplies were strictly rationed, so nearly everyone was hungry these days. Wendarr made his way toward the harbor, any noises muffled by the cloak of mist coating the world. *Smack* Lost in thought, Wendarr rounded a final corner and ploughed head-on into someone passing the other way. Kill him! Reacting instinctively, Wendarr reached to his belt and unsheathed a knife. The other person, face still indistinct, had stumbled backward, but seeing drawn steel pulled his own weapon, a sword. Wendarr’s own arm, strengthened both by his time in the mines and the urging of the voice, drove his knife above the man’s guard and into his neck. At the same time, he felt a horrendous shock through his chest. His opponent’s sword had run him all the way through. Wendarr staggered back, finally recognizing the swordsman as Mick, one of the town guards. The two locked eyes, then each toppled to the ground, their blood running over the already damp cobbles. As his vision faded into darkness, the voice echoed again through Wendarr’s head, exultant this time. KILL! Arwhin, mayor of Copper’s Bend, stood over the bodies of Wendarr and Mick, mixed feelings of sadness and relief reflecting across his face. He finally had the beginnings of an answer to the recent streak of disappearances. Still, Wendarr alone could not account for all the troubles plaguing his town. He nudged the dead man’s body with his boot, and a glimmer of light reflected off some metal through a tear in Wendarr’s shirt. Leaning down, Arwhin saw that a spike of steel was embedded in the man’s ribs. Arwhin frowned, and with a little effort ripped the bit of metal out, turning it over in his hand. Strange indeed. But he would consider any clues that could help them survive until Alendi reached the Well of Ascension. Welcome to the village of Copper’s Bend! LG ##: A Tale of Mists and Metal occurs on Scadrial prior to the ascension of Rashek to Lord Ruler. The mists last long into the day in your village, and strange deaths have been occurring at night. Can you rally the townsfolk and hold out long enough for Alendi to save the world? This game must be played entirely in character, including your PMs. In your signup post include your character's name, occupation, and at least one significant character trait. Feel free to inquire about the setting or add to it as you wish, though I'll be sticking fairly close to my interpretation of the Mistborn canon in my writeups. The rules can be accessed at the link or in the spoiler below: The IM for this game is @Devotary of Spontaneity. Signups have begun and will last for a week, until Sunday November 19 at 6:00 PM EST. This will be the standard rollover time as well, unless something comes up. Player List: Spectators: Pinch-Hitters: Quick Links:

Journey before destination. Like the first two oaths, the third was a reminder. Don't count your axehounds before they've hatched. The grain would ripen, but only if you took the time now to take care of it. And Aradon supposed that right now, as they neared the time to decide who would be executed, focusing on the journey was not merely honorable, but also practical. Scribes were keeping records of all the conversations today, and even if a traitor wasn't caught, surely the records would be invaluable on the morrow. Despite his rest, a strange weariness plagued Aradon when he returned to the field at day's end. Something that refused to give way to the urge of a breath of Stormlight to move, to act. Spark seemed unsettled by his mood, and by what the darkening sky promised. Yet Aradon's oaths compelled him to at least listen to the flying accusations. And fly they did. A single logicspren appeared for a moment, a tiny thunderhead over the head of a Knight he couldn't make out the face of. But far more common were those spren tied to emotions. A few violet hands had begun to wriggle through the floor near Gen-ku's feet, at least briefly. The whole spectacle was nearly too much to take in, but Aradon gave the best he was able. And as the sun inched ever closer to the horizon, Aradon realized more and more that this journey was far from over. Even the execution of a traitor today would just the the first step of several.

Maybe I just want revenge for last game

Strength before weakness. This was one that Aradon didn't need to think too hard about. Before you sat down to rest, you went out to the fields. This field, rather than being filled with lavis polyps, was full of Knights and their spren. He just had to find the holes that were a sure sign of worms. So Aradon wandered among his fellows, striking a few conversations. His first impression of Wit had mellowed. Perhaps the man was a traitor, but maybe he just needed a bit more room to spread his wings. Phil had approached him directly, wondering about which sorts of Knights would be most likely to be traitors. Aradon wasn't sure that it was quite so simple. Yes, some of the Radiant abilities would be more useful than others in the current situation, but it was also the case that betraying Dalinar would sit less well with some orders. And perhaps that line of thinking was meant to distract from other, more fruitful approaches. In a pinch, Aradon would support executing him. Shay was currently Aradon's greatest suspect. He'd overheard some of her discussions with Saffron (who was named after some exotic Shin spice, apparently), and something had struck him as off, though he was having a hard time putting a finger on it. The Stoneward, Keleran, seemed at first glance like someone Aradon could get along with, but the man had rebuffed his attempts to talk. It seemed like they all had some cracks in places. Some just were harder to cover over. The other Windrunners seemed to be holding themselves back, and Aradon could begin to feel the weight of all the noise on the field start to overwhelm him. Maybe they'd had the right of it after all. So he took his leave, heading to a quiet spot in the tower. Ten years back he never would have imagined living in such a place. A farmer from Stoneskeep as a Radiant in Urithiru? A part of Aradon was sure that Spark would whiz by one day and proclaim the whole thing was a joke.

Found it. He played in the Alice game, which I IMed, so not completely new. Qualms dealt with.

Wait. Hasn't Wit played before? I know he's new, but is this his first game? I feel like I had to @ him once and it was hard.

Life before death. Any field of lavis polyps would inevitably become infested with worms, and by the time you went through the lot, some of the crop would be dead, or beyond salvaging. But, well, dwell on that instead of getting on saving the ones that could be saved, that was a way to starve the whole town. Aradon scratched his head. The Knight's Radiant weren't quite lavis polyps, and none of them here were dead yet, so maybe he didn't know what he was talking about. He called out to his spren. "Spark, what do we do?" A ribbon of blue light whirled around Aradon's head before resolving into the form of a boy, dressed for playing, standing midair. Spark, infuriatingly, began scratching his own head in imitation of Aradon. Honorspren never seemed to entirely distance themselves from the habits of their cousins, the windspren. "Why ask me?" "You're an honorspren. I'd like to act with honor, but all I've ever known is farming. Not much honor to be found there" The boy crossed his arms and frowned more seriously. "Sure there is. What would happen if you dallied in your work. Said you wormed the whole field but really had passed on a row or two." Aradon scowled. "No farmer worth his crem would do that." Spark twirled in the air, a triumphant grin on his face. "And that's why I know you'll act with honor here. Folk are going to die. And no Knight worth his oaths is going to sit back and just let it happen. Life before death." With that, the spren flew into the sky, dancing on the currents of air. Aradon sighed, and headed for the field. Time to get talking to folks. -Transition to non-RP- Alright, some game thoughts. I don't think we should mess with the exe to manipulate who gets the extra ideal, especially C1. The exe is our tool for finding elims, first and foremost. If some folks get a bit stronger on the side, we can worry about them later. And a vote for "giving someone an ideal" is a vote that doesn't help determine that player's alignment. No sense giving the elims somewhere to hide. Points to Archer for expressing something similar. Gonna park my vote on Wit for now, as someone who claims to have played mafia a bunch but also is asking who is suspicious. Seems a little incongruous and maybe like he's been focusing energy outside the thread. Honestly thinking about voting Mat as well, despite my earlier statement about RP. Mostly in regards to the second vote and his engagement with Aeoryi. In response to Aeoryi, I'm not sure that it's meaningful to compare the power levels of the roles, due to redirects and roleblocks, which simultaneously have a power level determined by the strongest other roles and diminish the power of said roles. But since I'm a bit biased, I'll say the Windrunner is the most powerful. Vote manip+roleblock is very versatile.

Isn't TBD short for Totally Bad Dancer though? My RL bandwidth for thinking about this game is currently a bit low. I've some thoughts on an RP arc for Aradon, and am currently thinking I'll end up voting on someone not engaging with RP, just so I can have fun reading stuff. Should also make the endgame more interesting with a higher power level,

You could be one of the first people to run a game with more rule pages than players!

That's an occupational hazard of a playstyle that encourages perpetual suspicion.

Sounds like Wilson can do it if none of the more active moderators can, so I'm good to play .

I’m in as Aradon, who was a lavis farmer before he swore the first Ideal. Edit: This is contingent on me not being the IM for this game.

Requirements are looser for folks that have been around for a while. I think Drake would be fine to run his game.

Maybe. I would likely have gone after STINK next. JNV had been more open with me in a PM than I would have expected an elim to be.

I haven't worked out the details on my ruleset yet, but it should run fine at a low player count. Not too sure I want to run something starting in a couple of weeks but I'll at least try and hammer out the rules so I have the option.

Not too much to say that hasn’t already been said. @Matrim's Dice, I was looking for your village tell of tunneling, and it didn’t come out until you went after me . I’m not sure that if we’d exed TKN again instead of me that we would have figured anything out though.

Because you asked for who we'd prefer to kill, not who we suspect They mostly line up for me.

Mat TKN Frustration STINK Aeoryi JNV Mark

Something like this: Whamsy was getting frustrated. He kept whamming his head into the wall, hoping it would jog his thoughts about what could possibly going on. For some reason his shardic powers didn't seem to be working. A part of Whamsy knew that if he could just figure that out, this whole scenario would make sense. But it had been several days with no progress, and to top it off, they were trying to kill him now. Whamsy curled up at the base of the Tree, holding his head in his hands. Nobody ever mentioned how painful it was to be a shard.

I'm pretty sure we've talked this game to death already, so I'm thinking maybe I'll spend this cycle doing some RP.

Matrim I'm honestly not having fun playing the same turn over and again. So feel free to exe me today. Who knows, maybe it will stick.