el_warko

I like to think of it as a working holiday. Besides, if I'd spent hunderds of years with Nightblood, I'd want a holiday away from him. Preferably forever.

My favourite clone is Helena Felix hands down.

Dunno, maybe because of the size of the Stormfather (SF), he could be multiple swords to multiple people. "Here Dalinar, you've proven yourself to me that you are not a complete douch-bag and I've grown to like and respect you. Here, have an arm." Alternatively, due to his power and position of influence (in the Sprenmere), he may have noted that getting all sword-like (too committed) is a very good way to end up dead - it stands to reason that individual Rosharians reneged on their oaths prior to the Recreance - and he held back for that reason. Wild Speculation for the end of the first Stormlight arc: SF commits to Dalinar, who becomes the champion of anti-Odium (aO) camp who dies in single combat with Odium*, thus depriving team aO of two powerful individuals. * may also die in the fight because a walk-in (Szeth? (Nalan knows best)) slips Nightblood into Dalinar's back in said throw-down.

Kung Pow chicken

devastated, inconsolable, distraught

Poor tea parties!

;tea yes, parties

metaphorically; literally however

Somone should ask Brandon what burning Auricupride (Cu3Au) or tetra-auricupride (CuAu) would do. Cloud your allomancy in the past?

Lord Evil Stick

it failed woefully.

look less like (Joe: you have no idea how hard it was for me not go completly non-sequiter and write something along the lines of eat blue cheese or Brandon sat down).

Some thoughts. Don't feel trapped in your writing by only being able to accessing a particular power set based on a particular emotion. If you do this, you are removing part of what makes people people. You could also end up typecasting characters - this isn't neccessarily a bad thing, just something to watch out of. Couple this with the fact that people rarely truly feel one emotion at any given time. e.g. if you've (a character has) won a game or something, you (they) may feel both happy and satisfied in the victory. If there was someone in particular you (they) beat in said game contest, you may also feel vindicated or malicious in victory. In fact you could assign available power determined by the strength of emotion. On top of any preclivity to a particular field / type of magic, fire, wards, summoning - whatever. This would also avoid having to feel scared and determied (for example) to produce a force field bubble to protect against a lava flow or magical death rays or something. If you do go with one emotion one effect remember that an emotion can be used positively as well as negatively. e.g. someone is being bullied; you feel angry. You could a ) hurt the bully(ies) b ) protect the person being bullied. or: e.g. you are (a character is) bullying someone. You (They) feel happy doing this. You (They) could: a ) use you power to crush them (like a paper cup) to bug dust b ) heal them so you can hurt them again.

Gummi Bear.

Rabbit Elo / Shadrach knew the plan all too well. He slipped out of Aili's room. She stirred in her sleep scratching. The distraciton for the upcoming campaign had been delivered to about half of the village. Shadrach sat on his haunches in the dying firelight in front of the Hearth in the Red Salmon and waited for the signal from atop the hill.

Possible. Hoid doesn't have to harm a person by choice to gain a Haemalergic spike from a third party (at least in the first instance). Marsh didn't chose it. He chose to infiltrate the Ministry but he neither chose to become an inquisitor, nor organised the first eight (was it?) mistings/mistborn whose powers he gained.

Tozbek's Thaylen eyebrows

Shadrach left the old womans lap. He had business to be about. He had fleas, he was desperate to share them with Aodan. He knew that at this hour he'd be asleep. He knew where where he slept. He knew oh oh oh he knew.

Aspren, I guessed three, I thought that a 25% cultist proportion was likely. Good to know someone is in contact with the Priest. Like I said at this stage we are far too close to end game to be too distrustful. If there is a particular way you'd like me to vote let me know, either publicly or by PM.

Warkel shuffled up to the table where most had gathered soem were upstairs, some outside getting air". He coughed three times and Boomed. "Everyone in here now" The common room filled up. In a quieter voice he rasped: "Attention Priest: Please take a gamble and contact me. We are all dead if you don't. You must have either at least one person you can trust (though given that we are down 33% of the peoples starting that may be optimistic). Please note that I am dead if the JK contact me pretending to be you, I'm also dead if I do nothing. I will trust you and if you have scanned a cultist, I will vote as you suggest. If everyone piles on me for this request so be it nothing will be lost. In off chance that we are down 1 Warkel and 1 cultist tonight. These are the people I suspect: Ffnord; Nepene and Asgren. With a (dis) honourable mention to Luckat. though given the rapid fire nature of this game I have litttle to go on but instinct." He shuffled outside and lit his pipe. He'd given up years ago. He had very little time left either way. A few puffs wouldn't kill him. We have erred here quite badly people. Given the rapid nature of this game we cant hold back our thoughts or our roles. I personally was waiting for someone to speak up no one did. Now it is likely too late. We are two nights in and one THIRD of the players have been removed, all villagers. The villager:cultist:priest ratio stands at 4:3:1 The Cultists have a prodigous advantage in that they can remove two players tonight if they vote in a block. I get that the priest / cop doesn't want to die but your silence is killing us. Look at it this way in future games by picking someone that first day and telling them your role (Assuming the same ruleset and role roster (nine villagers:three cultists:one priest) you have a 72.3% chance reaching out to a villager. The odds are worth it IMO.

them pay dearly

What do you mean Caan?, you started it. You used to be cool Warkel got out a sheet of Parchment, a quill, some ink, and some willowbark to chew on. The started writing. The players: Posts by day (1/2/3) - _ indicates hasn’t posted in this cycle yet. Adolin Dustbringer: (1/1/_) Voted for due to assertion of innocence. Missed Nepene claiming innocence prior. Very quiet. Voted Faidh day one, no vote day 2 The Only Joe: (4/3/1) Holidaying in Duladel. Nice place pleasant weather. Voted himself day 1. Idiot GreyPilgrim: (1/1/2) Voted for me, how rude. No respect for elders. Voted Joe Day One, Warkel Day Two Aspren: (3/2/1) Almost whisper quiet claims to be late for everything. Treat with caution. No Votes Mailliw73: Eviscerated (1/2/1) Taken out early. Never really got to know them. No votes Gamma Fiend: Eviscerated (1/1_) Likes adventures. On the greatest one now. Voted Joe DAy One, Faidh day Two. Both evicated. Would be suspicious if she wasn't dead. Alvron: (2/1/1) Likes dried rabbit meat. Disgusting habit, likely to die of tuberculosis if this continues Not Votes lord Claincy Ffnord: (1/1/_) Used to be cool. Finds me suspicious for asking for clarification on rules. Dodgy behaviour. Proven track record of sneakiness. Voted for out of retaliation and spite and becaseu he voted for me. Will continue to do so. Voted Warkel Days One and Two. el_warko: (2/2/1) Myself, old decrepid. Breath bad; farts worse. Senile and forgetful and demented and forgetful. Voted Adolin Day One; Caan Day Two Nepene: (1/3/5) Talking more and more saying less and less. No Vote Day One, Aodan Day 2. AonarFaileas: Stormward Bound (1/4/_) Made rookie accounting errors on how much time we had left early on in the piece. Made the broth last night, passable cook. Forgot the pepper. No vote Day One; Kai Day two, Luckat: (1/4/3) Very verbose without saying much. Entrails dissapearing. Kai is teh Maori word for eat/food - conincidence? Voted Caan Day One, Faidh Day Two. My thoughts: Assuming cohesion within the group of cultists indicates Mailliw and Gamma were innocent. Voice in the sky has not mentioned alignment of Aonar and Joe. Given that, looks like game is to be played in the dark. Best case 2/2 innocents / innocents. worst case 3 innocents and the Priest. Priest hasn’t spoken up – fear of being targeted? Understandable. If alive, is likely to have formed a block either with Caan and Greggin against me – vendetta?, or with some / all those whom smoteth Faidh. Shouldn’t be going solo as that is pointless, unless they have turned to the darkside. *breaths heavily and exaggeratedly* If not, form a block with those already sought. Whomever you take out, the Cultists will have a one in three chance of hitting you. Best case your block stays at three, worst case you snuff it. Actually on that, it's game over if we don't exile a cultist tonight isn't it. Started 12, down to eight, six if we son't hit one which meams numbers are even, or do the cultists have to outnumber us?

"Caan, you young whipper snapper. Breakfast is not the most important meal of the day. Tea is the most important meal of the day, would you like a cup?. You may come to realise this when we run out of food, if we don't die first. Thinking you are clever running away from home to a mounitain outpost. Sitting there chewing dried rabbit meat. Why in my day we'd have gone out and hunted Caribou barefoot with sharpened twigs!" "The youth of today, unbelievable!" "Now, tea anybody?"

Warkel beseeched the gnomes, sprites, salamanders and sylphs. "Help me to decide whom to vote for. I picked the first to proclaim their innocence or so I thought. My elderly eyes missed an earlier assertion. Where too from here?" Warkel sighed he was too old for this. He had seen too much death. That was how it went for an apothecary though. Sometimes other symptoms masked the true ailment, sometimes you arrived too late, sometimes there was nothing he could do but ease the pain. Time caught up with all, it was catching up with him. The cancerous growth blossomed in his stomach. He'd hoped to reach his home and his kin before he died. He now wondered if he would see the week out. He wandered over to the stove for some hot water, he barely ate these days. A simple broth at night was all he needed. He made some tea, shuffled over into the corner and sat quietly; lost in thought.

Shadrach was hopping along, shakedown complete. He had been in possession of some celery and carrots; had being the operative word. They were delicious. He hopped through the town as the accusation had been flying thick and fast. There was no humour in death. Death accomplished nothing; if you killed someone they were no use to you. It was a much better business model to keep people alive and bleed them. On his way back to the orphanage he noticed an old lady sewing watching the horrors of the day unfold. She looked nice. Shadrach hopped up to her and caught her eye. She didn’t seem scared of him, most people were. He inched closer, the old lady put down her sewing on a side table and beckoned. Shadrach hopped up onto her lap and positioned himself where the old lady could scratch the back of his neck with her right hand. Just below his Mohawk, just where he liked it. Shadrach nuzzled the ladies wizened old left hand. Contentment.