Tyson

Good. Very easy to read and the bit about the darkness in the city was well writtten. My only real gripe would be the ending. "As the sun fell, so now did Kahad." Is this a literal falling to his knees, or the figurative fall of the masked man/vigilante? If he is literally falling, it needs to be reworded to make it clear. If its figurative, then it isn't needed. Its almost a mirror to the ending of the first paragraph. You don't need to tell us twice. Pick one, delete the other.

Stare too long into nothingness and its call is a difficult thing to ignore. It offered peace. It offered rest. For some it offered hope. All it asked for in return was a leap of faith. - A deleted scene from my steampunk project. The character is an abused slave looking off the edge of a cliff. "Mors never misses, because he beleives he will never miss. Or maybe Mors beleives, because he's yet to miss a shot," Jelkan shrugged and spread his hands. "The point is, self beleif is a powerful magic." - A line from my epic fantasy project. Mors is a legendary hero who has never missed with his bow. Jelkan is a wizard who is explaining the magic system to the main character.

@ Haelbarde I was thinking vector. But either could work. You could split the circle (line of warding) into segements and give them it's own HP like you suggest, but i'll be honest and say I'm not exactly sure on how to code that. If you know how to code it, them that is indeed the best method of doing it. Premade circles would be by far the easiest, and lets be honest, who here can draw a perfect circle on an iPad? Personally, i'd use GameMaker as I find it the most accessible and offers the best network of support (when I inevitably run into trouble). Plus you can create character models in 3ds max and import them, so you are not tied to 2d graphics, just limited. But for a Rithmatist game, you wouldn't need much 3d. I should be working on my book but i'm tempted to boot up my old software and give this idea a go.

Pure honesty, and pure opninion:- You done a great job a setting a dark mood within the first paragraph, but it doesn't paint a clear enough picture for me personally. I'd continue reading but I'd struggle if the rest of the chapter followed with a similar flow. I found it slightly stunted because of the short sentences and some strange structuring (strange isn't bad, just different). Be careful how many times you use the words face and mask in one paragraph and consider using a voice that embelishes the scene, or focuses upon a distinct aspect of the scene e.g. the sound that the mask makes when it hits the ground. (You just said clunk). I found the current voice generic, it gave me information without the frills. Remember that the first paragraph is the most important paragraph in your book. This is what will get you a agent/publishing deal or not. https://bstaveley.wordpress.com/2013/03/26/shakira-and-usher-hate-tolkien-opening-sentences-in-fantasy/ I've linked a great blog post from Brian Staveley (Unhewn Throne Trilogy) that stresses the importance of a good opening paragraph with examples. It helped me alot.

Good characters are just as important as a good plot, maybe slightly more important infact. A good character in a generic plot is easier to read than a bad character in a oringal plot. In response to your question though. I find inspiration in films, comics, novels and mainly daydreams (asking myself "what if..."). Combine them all together and I would say thats where 90% of authors plots come from.

Profile: Gunsmoke (High epic) Name: Wes Johnson Age: 54 Outfit: black jacket, trilby and cigar Power: his entire body can disintegrate into black smoke. Prime invincibility. If shot, the bullet will hit his body and erupt out of him with a puff of smoke. Can release an infinite amount of smoke from his hands, using it to cover an area of land, he then can materialise in any part of that smoke. Secondary power: Anything he shoots explodes into black smoke History: travelled across the states attempting to carve a kingdom for himself. Finally settled in Corvallis and accepted a mundane post for an Epic of his power. He has ambitions of usurping the Queens, but knows he lacks the power. Plots and attempts to forge alliances to kill Rainmaker. He disallows his servants from Euphoria's blessing and suppresses anything that could make them laugh, sometimes resorting to cutting out their tongues. Profile: Malevolence (lesser epic) Name: Timothy Kave Age: 23 Outfit: baggy shirt, ripped jeans and wool hat Power: the ability to use clean, unbroken and reflective mirrors as doorways into a place he calls "the otherside". He can look through mirrors, spy on people and talk to them. The otherside is his domain, no one can pass through mirrors without Malevolence gifting his power. The otherside is a network between every mirror in the world. So he can take shortcuts between Oregon and let's say Tokoyo. History: lived in Houston before Calamity, Timothy Kave was considered a teenage genius. He wasted his talent on plaguing powerful corporations and government agencies with cyber attacks, just to prove he could breach their computer defences. A year after Calamity, he received his power, becoming one of the first and most elusive Epic's. Few people even know he exists. He wishes he has a stronger power, like Steelheart or Nightsorrow, and jealously try's to manipulate other Epic's. He maintains his true gift was the sharp brain he was born with. Claims to have orchestrated the rise and fall of a lot of high Epic's and is proud of the fact that he has never had to kill a person, he manipulates others to do the dirty work. Obsessed with food. Often his analogies include food items. Was a key Epic during Obliterations reign of Houston and survived when the man lost his mind and destroyed the city. Malevolence strangely, locates and taunts Obliteration from behind mirrors on a regular basis, because Obliteration failed to kill him in Houston. He also claims to know Obliterations weakness, (He doesn't) this just keeps Obliteration hunting Malevolence. After Houston travelled the world of mirrors, with a simple plan of seeing how many cities he could help destroy. Turned his attention to Oregon because of the brewing turf wars. Here to cause trouble and watch cities crumble.

I have some expereince in game making. This wouldn't be too hard to accomplish. Running a smooth online multiplayer would be the hardest part. I have no expereince in that side of things. Here's how i'd do it: - Blank background. Chalkboard or stone effect. Keep visuals to a minimum and focus on a good gameplay. - Seperate chalkboard for drawing. Drag and drop, lines, cricles and chalklings into play. - No assistance with lines or circles. Traceable chalkings. You miss lines, there HP goes down. Make more detailed chalkings unlockable. - As all chalkings are traceable, they would have preset animations when moving/attacking. - Rate circles out of 360. A Hp of 360 would be a perfect circle. Take away health points for eccentricity. (the less perfect the circle, the less hp) - lets say a level one chalking has 2ATK points, it would take that chalking 180 hits to destroy a prefect circle. Encourages swarming and leveling up chalkings I haven't read Rithmatist for a while so i'm unfamiliar with the terms. I guess a tutorial or short story, just random battles with comic book cutscenes would give new players a chance to understand the game. I'll make mock up of what it could look like on an iPad. I might be able to do it if I really tried. Downisdies: copyright, i haven't coded for 7 years and its a huge amount of work for one person. Things I definatley can't do: - Design chalkings. Or enough chalkings to keep the game interesting. You would need at least 20 variants with three different levels of detail, as well as multiple images for each (walking and attacking animations). - Make circles break in one area/weak spot. I don't know how I could accomplish this. Lets say someone uses a swarm of chalkings to attack a weak spot, I don't know how to make the game realise that it is a weak spot. Defence rings and walls in other stragergy games (Clash of Clans and Age of Empires) are made from individual blocks with their own HP. Drawing a circle is one unbroken line, with one HP. The only way to get around this is give the player a premade circle, which takes away a large aspect of the game. Edit: Image wasn't loading. I'll upload a new one when i have chance

Thank you Might find some Nighthound posts to read, as it looks as though it is pretty much decided that he is the most evil character.

Also. Is there anywhere I can read a summary of waht happened in Portland, Dalles and Astoria within these "4 days". I've started reading Dalles and Astoria. But the post count in Portland presents a daunting read.

Was there any confirmation that Radiants used the sword stances? Or was sword stances based on the Radiants different fighting styles? Also, if I remember correctly, some of the orders didn't fight. They had other duties, so why would they develop a unique 'stance'. Great theory though. Sounds plausible.

Wow...fast response. Thank you. So Oregon's destruction is pretty much imminent. I got to the party late it would seem.

Malevolence post is up in the Corvallis thread. That's both my Epic intro's done now and I'll probably leave it at 2 characters until Gunsmoke is killed off. Just for reference. Where is the Oregon "saga" in relation to the Newcago timeline. How many years before Steelhearts death? Roughly?

One year ago It was wonderful watching the world tear itself apart. It induced a primal pleasure, the sort of happiness a small boy experiences when throwing a fire cracker into an ant hill and watching the tiny insects scurry around in frantic circles. It was a pleasure Malevolence had learned from an old master, the day Houston melted. Malevolence sat in his own little world, an eager observer, taking another bite out of his sandwich and giggling as he watched London being reduced to rubble. Not his own work, he might have given a few Epic’s a nudge in the right direction, he might have whispered greater ambitions into their ears, but Malevolence wouldn’t soil his hands with destruction. That was a hobby for men with lesser minds. He sat crossed legged on an island floating in an abyss of blackness. Mirrors hung motionless all around him, giving glimpses into the real world. A bedroom here, a dining room there. They were windows for him. Windows into a world where London shook with the war that raged in its streets. Popping the remainder of his cheese sandwich into his mouth, he pushed himself to his feet and walked away from his current window. The island wasn’t large. Maybe fifty paces in either direction, but hundreds of motionless mirrors levitated above the around, forcing him to pick a careful path or push them out of his way. In the distance, dotting the pitch black skies was other islands, suspended on nothing and connected by long, arching bridges each one lined with even more mirrors, large and small, round and rectangular. A labyrinth of islands, bridges and mirrors filled the skies as far as his eye could see. This was his kingdom. This was the Otherside. Present Day “Boy,” called the voice. It lingered in the air, waiting for a response. Malevolence sighed, crinkled his empty bag of Doritos and tossed the packet into a nearby trash can. He sat on an island, a current favourite of his, legs crossed and back rested against a low bed that he had somehow squeezed through a large enough mirror. Pokémon red version hummed from a portable games console nestled in his lap, an unfinished battle between Charmander and Pikachu awaiting the next move. “Malevolence.” This old man really isn’t going to quit, he thought. He could ignore the man, pretend to be occupied elsewhere. There were a million other places he could be, a thousand other ways he could be causing chaos, but something in the old man’s voice piqued Malevolence’s interest. Eagerness? War was brewing in Corvallis. Malevolence stood and brushed the creases from his shirt. May as well make it look like I’ve been doing something other than play games all day. He tried to straighten his hat and organise his stray hair in some semblance of style, then gave up. It’s hard when you can’t see your own reflection. Throwing his Nintendo onto the bed, he walked to a large rectangular mirror that hung motionless a few paces away. “I have a few Oreo’s,” called the old man. Oooh Oreo’s. Malevolence hadn’t tasted Oreo’s in years. In was hard to come across such pre-Calamity delicacies these days. Cornucopia really did have an amazing gift. It was part of the reason he lingered behind Oregon’s mirrors. He idly wondered what he would do with such a power. Orange soda trees? Big Mac bushes? Fields of canned spaghetti hoops? “I’m not a servant to be summoned,” he said, stepping in front of the mirror so that Gunsmoke could see him. The old man sat in his customary armchair, a cigar tucked behind his ear and a black feather poking out of his silly little hat. “Nor am I a child to be tempted with biscuits,” he finished. I really would like an Oreo though. The other Epic ignored Malevolence’s retort and tossed half a packet of Oreo’s towards the mirror. Malevolence reached out, pushing his hand through the glass surface as if it wasn’t there, and caught the biscuits. He pulled them back through onto his side of the mirror and quickly set to eating them. They tasted so good. “Good news,” said Gunsmoke. “It’s raining. It’s smokin’ chucking buckets of it down.” Malevolence paused halfway through a biscuit. “So?” he asked. A downpour of rain would have been a mild reaction from Rainmaker after losing her closest ally. He had been keeping a close eye on Euphoria up until…wait. Gunsmoke didn’t know. Cooped up in his little church, plotting his next attack on the Queens, he wouldn’t have heard the news. “It means Rainmaker is angry, you wool headed idiot. It means something is wrong, it means…” “Euphoria has disappeared,” Malevolence announced, nonchalantly continuing his biscuit. Gunsmoke almost choked. His eyes bulged and his words dried up in his mouth. The old man leant forward in his chair, fingernails digging into the arms. A few wisps of smoke rose from his trilby. “Disappeared? What do you mean she has disappeared?” Malevolence shrugged. Surely the man had enough brain sense to understand the word disappeared. “Vanished,” he said. “She was there one minute, then…pufffff.” Oreo’s scattering from his mouth across the ground. Silence enveloped the old man. He stared at mirror as if expecting a joke. Enough time passed for Malevolence to finish his pack of Oreo’s and wish there were more. “And when were you going to tell me this?” demanded Gunsmoke. “You should have notified me straight away.” “I got distracted,” he shrugged. “There are other places I can go. Other places to stir trouble. Portland. Astoria.” And it doesn’t help that you have smashed all your mirrors, all but this one. That was the down side of revealing his powers. Paranoid Epics tended to quickly destroy the mirrors in their homes. It was better if he remained a secret. London. Korea. Mumbai. They all fell without Malevolence’s meddling being realized. Oregon would follow. He liked to think of himself as the mastermind, the puppet master, hiding behind his walls of smoke and mirrors. “We must act quickly if we are to take Rainmakers throne. The Queens must fall,” Gunsmoke continued. We? thought Malevolence. There was no we. Gunsmoke had been trying to assassinate the Queens for almost a year, and each attempt only emphasised his incompetence. Besides, Malevolence didn’t want to rule. There was no enjoyment to be found on a throne, constantly watching for people trying to put a knife in your back. Malevolence had simpler pleasures. He wanted to watch the world burn. “Your right,” he agreed. “We must.”

I've got one scene to post from Malevolences PoV. Avoiding a double post though so I've been waiting for someone else first.

Thanks boss

Thanks. I'll change his name. Malevolence?? Does anyone have that name. Can't see it in the epic thread but Portland and Dalles are too long to read through at this point. Would take me weeks lol

No problem, will think of a new name and edit. What's his power?

Reflection should be ready to get involved in the action soon. I've typed his first scene and I'll post it in the next few days. Monday most likely. On another note, sorry to everyone in the Corvallis thread. My posts have been rather large so far, it might take me a while to get used to rpg'ing rather than writing stories. I tend to go on tangents. One more, long post from reflections Pov so people get an idea of his personality then I'll try and compact my posts into shorter, readable POV's.

Present Day The church was nice. High ceilings, stained windows, dark mood. Gunsmoke had been given the building on his first day in Corvallis. A home to match your power level, they had told him. It was large enough to house fifty human servants, ten large dogs and sixteen statues of Jesus Christ, which Gunsmoke had lined up next to the pulpit like some kind of blasphemous shooting range. It was a nice place to live. Even so, the grey stone walls had begun to feel more like a prison every day. Rainmaker didn’t trust him, none of the Queens trusted him, it would seem. So they give him a big church, supplied servants as fast as he could shoot them and gave him pointless duties just to keep Gunsmoke away from real city affairs. It was so frustrating. He had come to Corvallis to conquer; instead they had caged him like a feral beast, left him to prowl the hallowed halls of his church like the devil himself, plotting some way to take their power. Even more frustrating was the weather. Sunshine. Every day, more smokin’ sunshine. It’s like the city had never heard of variation. You can, he had most definitely decided, have too much of a good thing. Yet the blasted woman named herself Rainmaker, the irony. Tonight, though, was different. Gunsmoke paused halfway down a hallway and glanced out a large stained glass window with a smile. Rain. How long had it been since he last saw droplets running down windows? Or listened to the patter it made on tiled roofs? How long had it been since Rainmaker’s mood had soured? Excitement sent a shiver down the back of his neck. Genuine excitement, none of Euphoria’s synthetic crap. He had forbidden his servants from their weekly doses, unwilling to allow the Queens even an ounce of influence over his subjects. Turning away from the window, Gunsmoke hurried along the corridor, his footsteps leaving echoes in his wake. A servant girl stepped out of a room with an armful of blankets and into his path. On a normal day, his revolver would he out of its holster in a heartbeat and a bullet buried in her pretty little face. She froze, wide eyed and expected as much, but Gunsmoke hardly noticed her, passing right by, his eyes focused on a door at the end of the hall. He heard her running down the hall, fear turning to sobs as she round the corner at the end. Maybe he would punish her later. As he approached the door, Gunsmoke patted his jacket pockets for the old brass key. He always found it amazing how many different pockets you can find when ones looking for a key. Pockets seem to appear out of nowhere, playing a petty game of hide and seek. Giving up on the search, Gunsmoke continued his pace towards the door and disintegrated into thick black smoke. It flowed beneath the heavy door and squeezed through the key hole, reforming on the other side in the shape of a man. A moment passed before Gunsmoke’s features returned, a few faint fingers of smoke evaporating from his face. He stood in a small, windowless room. Back before Calamity, it might have been where the church janitor kept his brooms or maybe a store room for bottles of holy water. If holy water came in bottles. Gunsmoke didn’t know. Gunsmoke didn’t care. Now it held only two items of furniture. A low, moth-eaten armchair, more holes than cushion, and a tall mirror which reflected the soft light of candles dotted around the floor. Gunsmoke sank into the armchair and looked into the mirror. His own face looked back. Dark skinned and wide nosed. A dark grey trilby hid his greying hair, a black feather tucked into the band around its centre. His jacket was also black and slightly too small, revealing a silver wristwatch that should have been hidden beneath the cuff. Tight trousers and well polished riding boots completed his outfit. He looked good he decided, for his age at least. Gunsmoke lifted his leg and lay a boot across his left knee, settling into the chair with a smug smile spread across his face. “Boy,” he called at the mirror. Silence. The room remained still but for the flicker of candlelight and the frown of Gunsmoke’s reflection. “Malevolence.” He called again, attempting to coax the boy out of hiding by using his preferred name. Gunsmoke remained the only figure in the mirrors frame. “I have a few Oreo’s” he called, remembering the half eaten packet in his inside pocket. “I’m not a servant to be summoned,” replied an insolent voice. Something stirred in the mirror, a boy stepping into view. Gunsmoke resisted the temptation to turn around, he knew that the other Epic wasn’t really inside the room, but reflex is a hard thing to break. “Nor am I a child to be tempted with biscuits.”

Lol, funny thing is, I just written his second scene where he refers to his hat as a fedora (because I wasn't quite sure if Americans said trilby or not). I'll change it back to Trilby I you want :,) On another note, I'd really like to know who a fedora became a sensitive subject. Sounds like a fascinating story lol

One year ago Gunsmoke arrived in Corvallis with little more than the clothes on his back, the cigar in his mouth and the vague outline of a plan. Stage one, conquer a city. Stage two, conquer the world. It was nothing fancy, Gunsmoke hated overcomplicating matters. In his mind, the two points of his plan was more than a sufficient start. It left ample room for improvisation and fewer chances of things going wrong. There’s no wrong decisions when you don’t have a plan, he told himself. Just detours. The city itself seemed like the perfect place to begin. It was sustainable, defendable and most importantly, vulnerable. The Queens maintained their reign through manipulating the citizens rather than raw power. It worked well enough, he admitted as he looked around the bridge. Refugees, both human and Epic alike, mingled in an orderly crowd, waiting patiently for Rainmaker to make her entrance, to grovel beneath her radiance and make a new life in a seemingly pleasant city. Gunsmoke brushed the grip of his revolver in distaste. It was all so smokin’ perfect. A platform was set up partway down the bridge, forming the official gateway into Corvallis. A mixture of bureaucrats and law enforcement officers stood on the raised platform watching the crowd and writing notes down on clipboards held tight against their chests. Here to, humans and Epics shared job roles. He could pick them out so easily. How they stood. How they held their weapons. Most of all it was in their eyes. They watched the crowd intently, where the dark shades of fear lurked behind the eyes of humans, Epics watched everyone with a sense of paranoia, as if they expected Steelheart himself to attack at any given moment. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a strange sound on such a clear day, and one by one people began to turn their eyes skyward, a growing murmur of excitement running through the crowd. Gunsmoke watched as nervous frowns were replaced with smiles on the crowds lips. He narrowed his eyes. Someone’s playing with emotions, he thought, scrutinizing each Epic on the platform with renewed interest. Another bout of thunder pulled his attention back to the sky, where a cloud coalesced in the air directly above the bridge, momentarily casting a shadow over the audience. People pushed against each other, though the humans wisely left Gunsmoke a circle of space. A single, golden ray of sunlight broke through the blanket of cloud and cast its light at the centre of the platform. Then she came. The personification of sun and snow, wind and water, thunder and lightning. Rainmaker fell from the sky, illuminated by the single ray of sunlight, her arms stretched wide and faint rainbows trailing her fingers. Smiles of nearby humans widened. Excitentment buzzed among the crowed as they watched Rainmaker descend. Gunsmoke watched, not in awe, not in respect, he watched for weakness. If this city would be his, the Queens would have to fall. A chorus of cheers rose in the crowd as humans called to Rainmaker, begging for her blessing. A small girl nearby broke into laughter as her father lifted her onto his shoulders. Gunsmoke had twiched to his revolver, sweat beading his forehead and his hands shook in anger. The urge to kill rising inside him. Humas shouldn't act like this. They should cower and hide and keep their lips closed. It all felt so wrong. Unatural. Wind buffeted the crowd as Rainmaker’s feet touched the platform and she began her welcoming speech, but Gunsmoke looked past her, focussing instead on the sharp suited bureaucrats and uniformed police force that had greeted the refugees on the bridge. Rainmaker didn’t hold the power here, he realized. Corvallis wasn't ruled with forks of lightening and torrents of wind. Corvallis was ruled with joy. There was a dangerous Epic here. An Epic more dangerous than any of the other Queens. An Epic that must be killed. And just like that, Gunsmoke had formed the next part of his plan.

Looking to add two new Epics into the Corvallis storyline. I don't plan on sending them in and starting fights all over the city. They don't have to get involved in the current disputes in the city straightaway, as they have their own issues to resolve. But hopefully, if my idea goes to plan, their storyline will eventually open an opportunity for whoever plans to write the coming of Obliteration. Profile: Smoke (High epic) Name: Wes Johnson Age: 54 Outfit: black jacket, trilby and cigar Power: his entire body can disintegrate into black smoke. No offensive powers, but prime invincibility. If shot, the bullet will hit his body and erupt out of him with a puff of smoke. History: travelled across the states attempting to carve a kingdom for himself. Finally settled in Corvallis and accepted a mundane post for an Epic of his power. He has ambitions of usurping the Queens, but knows he lacks the power. Plots and attempts to forge alliances to kill Rainmaker. He disallows his servants from Euphoria's blessing and suppresses anything that could make them laugh, sometimes resorting to cutting out their tongues. Profile: Reflection (lesser epic) Name: Timothy Kave Age: 23 Outfit: baggy coat and wooly hat (it's cold on the otherside) skater boy look Power: the ability to use clean, unbroken and reflective mirrors as doorways into a place he calls "the otherside". He can look through mirrors, spy on people and talk to them. He can also step through mirrors. History: before Calamity, Timothy Kave was considered a teenage genius. He wasted his talent on plaguing powerful corporations and government agencies with cyber attacks, just to prove he could breach their computer defences. A year after Calamity, he received his power, becoming one of the first and most elusive Epic's. Few people even know he exists. He wishes he has a stronger power, like Steelheart or Nightsorrow, and jealously try's to manipulate other Epic's. He maintains his true gift was the sharp brain he was born with. Claims to have orchestrated the rise and fall of a lot of high Epic's and is proud of the fact that he has never had to kill a person, he manipulates others to do the dirty work. Was a key Epic during Obliterations reign of Houston and survived when the man lost his mind and destroyed the city. Obliteration suspects Reflections escape, a fact that Reflection uses to his advantage in more ways than one. Never done this type of thing before so let me know if it sounds ok.

Upvote for the title. Interesting theory, but i can't see it myself. I agree with the above post.

Great opening line. Grabs your attention. I agree with the majority of what gwslow says. As your telling the story from 1st person, there's no need to highlight his sentience, we already know that because he is thinking. Good start though.

Wow. You have some serious skills. Never really pictured Dalinar with a full beard, but you have made it look good. The rough Kaladin sketch looks even better.