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Post by jliessa44 on Mar 25, 2016 10:13:16 GMT
Beck's eyebrows raised. Yes he remembered Nenva. Rather well actually, even if she wasn't a character she'd never been cruel to him. Not that she'd remember him hopefully, he was young enough already and had been younger still when he'd stopped playing and mingling at social functions and started watching. "We're going to sell it to her. Think it's for her or her House?"
Under his breath Dev swore, but it was because he was impressed. Did he think the plan would work? Without hearing the details he gave it a fifty-fifty. But he did admired the kid's guts, when it was Rivven who turned up as the one who called them all together he'd honestly just expected nothing bigger on the plan than stealing a few silver platters.
Mil leaned forward in her seat, thoughtfully tugging at a piercing. "How can you be sure this bead won't seem different than atium? If she finds out they've been conned, they'll be after us."
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Post by Lylyss on Mar 25, 2016 11:13:05 GMT
"Great question." Rivven nodded respectfully to Beck. "Compared to other Houses, the Seldons are a pushover--they have just three Mistings. And of those three, Nenva is the only one who can burn atium. So she must want it for personal use. As for the bead..." He passed it to Mil. "I consulted several metallurgists to get the right color and weight. Appearances shouldn't be a problem. But if Nenva tries to burn it... well, that's when it gets risky. Hopefully we'll be gone by then. But if not, electrum's affects are similar to those of atium, only much, much weaker. That might alert an experienced Mistborn, but Nenva is nothing of the sort. She's never seen atium in her life. Probably doesn't understand the extent of its powers. We'll have time to make our grand escape, riding off into the sunset with huge bags of cash."
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Post by Leilani Sunblade on Mar 26, 2016 14:31:26 GMT
Calden nodded slowly, thoughtfully. It was, so far, a good scheme. Big enough to have a good payoff, but if Rivven was right, fairly low-risk. They'd have to get close to Nenva and House Seldon, find a way to sell their fake atium to Nenva without raising suspicions . . . those were doable. "We'd have to be careful- if one of the larger houses hears there's someone with atium to sell, they'll be all over us. And they won't be fooled as easily as Nenva." Westing nodded in agreement, his mouth too full of scone to speak- not that he had much to say at the moment. It did sound like a good job. Not as exciting as some, but still worthwhile. Tally, on the other hand, frowned. "How'd you find out about this electrum? And who else knows? If you know, someone else has to too." ((BTW, Dmitri Pendragon, Lylyss: Liessa already knows this, but I'm traveling this weekend, so between that and Easter Sunday, IDK how much I'll be on. I doubt it would affect this thread greatly anyway, but just so you know. I should be back to usual around Tuesday.))
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Post by Dmitri Pendragon on Mar 28, 2016 4:43:19 GMT
Ollin raised an eyebrow as they approached the carriage. That... is a nightmare. Jove didn't seem to mind, however. He hopped inside with a cheerful "Out of my way, maggoty slaves!" Maggoty slaves? Ollin smirked at Chazan. "Perhaps I was a little too encouraging." She climbed inside, while Jove continued to threaten gruesome death if the carriage did not arrive in a timely fashion. _____________ "Koloss spleen!" Kell said with a sagacious nod. "There's a real curse. Koloss uvula! Koloss thyroid! Koloss belly-button! Now I have properly expressed my frustration with you and the rest of humanity." _____________ Brune ground his teeth. This isn't retreat--it's a tactical withdrawal. He backed away several yards, then ran toward the village, hoping to regroup with that storming herald. "Whatever you said to him, it sounds better than what it used to be." Chazan tapped a tinmind as Ollin climbed inside, searching the courtyard for suspicious whispers. Satisfied, he glanced toward the man who sat on in the driver's seat. "Keep Tellunian, driver." Then he climbed inside and shut the door firmly as the carriage rattled out through the gates of House Deidoa. "Copper and bronze, please, Ollin," Chazan said quietly. "Our destination is Keep Tellunian, which is close by the most prestigious library in Luthadel. Zalwen always has important reasons for traveling abroad, and most times he is researching. If we do not find Zalwen in the Kasbian Library, I hope Daub will contact us soon. If he has a network big enough to know about us, of course."
"Spleen." Gali rolled the word around in her mouth. "Spleen is not bad." She finished her can of peaches and drank the juice. "Back to business. Is there a back door out of this place?"
The Shardbearer eyed Daradin, who climbed slowly on his horse and goaded the horse after Brune. He dismissed his Blade. "Stonegold!" The Ryshadium trotted over. The Shardbearer knelt by the horse, forming a staircase with his hands for Kisma. "If you would kindly mount." Beck's eyebrows raised. Yes he remembered Nenva. Rather well actually, even if she wasn't a character she'd never been cruel to him. Not that she'd remember him hopefully, he was young enough already and had been younger still when he'd stopped playing and mingling at social functions and started watching. "We're going to sell it to her. Think it's for her or her House?" Under his breath Dev swore, but it was because he was impressed. Did he think the plan would work? Without hearing the details he gave it a fifty-fifty. But he did admired the kid's guts, when it was Rivven who turned up as the one who called them all together he'd honestly just expected nothing bigger on the plan than stealing a few silver platters. Mil leaned forward in her seat, thoughtfully tugging at a piercing. "How can you be sure this bead won't seem different than atium? If she finds out they've been conned, they'll be after us." "Great question." Rivven nodded respectfully to Beck. "Compared to other Houses, the Seldons are a pushover--they have just three Mistings. And of those three, Nenva is the only one who can burn atium. So she must want it for personal use. As for the bead..." He passed it to Mil. "I consulted several metallurgists to get the right color and weight. Appearances shouldn't be a problem. But if Nenva tries to burn it... well, that's when it gets risky. Hopefully we'll be gone by then. But if not, electrum's affects are similar to those of atium, only much, much weaker. That might alert an experienced Mistborn, but Nenva is nothing of the sort. She's never seen atium in her life. Probably doesn't understand the extent of its powers. We'll have time to make our grand escape, riding off into the sunset with huge bags of cash." Calden nodded slowly, thoughtfully. It was, so far, a good scheme. Big enough to have a good payoff, but if Rivven was right, fairly low-risk. They'd have to get close to Nenva and House Seldon, find a way to sell their fake atium to Nenva without raising suspicions . . . those were doable. "We'd have to be careful- if one of the larger houses hears there's someone with atium to sell, they'll be all over us. And they won't be fooled as easily as Nenva." Westing nodded in agreement, his mouth too full of scone to speak- not that he had much to say at the moment. It did sound like a good job. Not as exciting as some, but still worthwhile. Tally, on the other hand, frowned. "How'd you find out about this electrum? And who else knows? If you know, someone else has to too." Raul rubbed his chin. "You said you consulted several metallurgists, Rivven. I'm assuming they can be trusted to some degree, and if not, will they have to be dealt with? Bribed? Watched?" He glanced sideways at Pater, who scowled at him, and returned his attention to the skinny crewleader. "I would also assume you know atium is a highly protected commodity across the Final Empire. I've heard the Ministry tracks the flow. We need a backup plan in case Nenva informs the Ministry she got atium from us, even if she doesn't know we're skaa. Fake identities and backstories. Alibis. Safe houses. A way to disappear if we have to." He took a deep breath. "Of course, we're also going to need time to research this job thoroughly. Any strong alliances House Seldon has with other noble Houses. We don't want Nenva calling down other Allomancers if this job goes into the gutter. And especially the Seldon Mistings. We need to know their powers so we can form contingencies. Soothers and Rioters especially we're going to have to watch."
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Post by Lylyss on Mar 28, 2016 9:04:09 GMT
Calden nodded slowly, thoughtfully. It was, so far, a good scheme. Big enough to have a good payoff, but if Rivven was right, fairly low-risk. They'd have to get close to Nenva and House Seldon, find a way to sell their fake atium to Nenva without raising suspicions . . . those were doable. "We'd have to be careful- if one of the larger houses hears there's someone with atium to sell, they'll be all over us. And they won't be fooled as easily as Nenva." Westing nodded in agreement, his mouth too full of scone to speak- not that he had much to say at the moment. It did sound like a good job. Not as exciting as some, but still worthwhile. Tally, on the other hand, frowned. "How'd you find out about this electrum? And who else knows? If you know, someone else has to too." ((BTW, Dmitri Pendragon , Lylyss : Liessa already knows this, but I'm traveling this weekend, so between that and Easter Sunday, IDK how much I'll be on. I doubt it would affect this thread greatly anyway, but just so you know. I should be back to usual around Tuesday.)) "Whatever you said to him, it sounds better than what it used to be." Chazan tapped a tinmind as Ollin climbed inside, searching the courtyard for suspicious whispers. Satisfied, he glanced toward the man who sat on in the driver's seat. "Keep Tellunian, driver." Then he climbed inside and shut the door firmly as the carriage rattled out through the gates of House Deidoa. "Copper and bronze, please, Ollin," Chazan said quietly. "Our destination is Keep Tellunian, which is close by the most prestigious library in Luthadel. Zalwen always has important reasons for traveling abroad, and most times he is researching. If we do not find Zalwen in the Kasbian Library, I hope Daub will contact us soon. If he has a network big enough to know about us, of course."
"Spleen." Gali rolled the word around in her mouth. "Spleen is not bad." She finished her can of peaches and drank the juice. "Back to business. Is there a back door out of this place?"
The Shardbearer eyed Daradin, who climbed slowly on his horse and goaded the horse after Brune. He dismissed his Blade. "Stonegold!" The Ryshadium trotted over. The Shardbearer knelt by the horse, forming a staircase with his hands for Kisma. "If you would kindly mount."
Raul rubbed his chin. "You said you consulted several metallurgists, Rivven. I'm assuming they can be trusted to some degree, and if not, will they have to be dealt with? Bribed? Watched?" He glanced sideways at Pater, who scowled at him, and returned his attention to the skinny crewleader. "I would also assume you know atium is a highly protected commodity across the Final Empire. I've heard the Ministry tracks the flow. We need a backup plan in case Nenva informs the Ministry she got atium from us, even if she doesn't know we're skaa. Fake identities and backstories. Alibis. Safe houses. A way to disappear if we have to." He took a deep breath. "Of course, we're also going to need time to research this job thoroughly. Any strong alliances House Seldon has with other noble Houses. We don't want Nenva calling down other Allomancers if this job goes into the gutter. And especially the Seldon Mistings. We need to know their powers so we can form contingencies. Soothers and Rioters especially we're going to have to watch." ((We'll miss you Leilani! But thanks for letting us know. :) )) Questions. Excellent. They were interested, they wanted to know more. Rivven turned to Calden first. "Approaching Nenva--and avoiding the great Houses--may be the most challenging part of our job. Perhaps we could arrange a private meeting with the Seldons. But that just creates new complications: would you buy atium from a guy off the street? We need credentials. A cover story." Now for Tally's question. Rivven hesitated, taking a long sip of tea. "I got the idea from an electrum misting." Change the subject. "But nobody knows about our heist, aside from her and the aforementioned metallurgists. Whom I know personally--" Nodding to Raul. "--and bribed repeatedly. They won't say anything. As for our backup plan..." Rivven raked a hand through his hair. "There's an abandoned cannery in the Commercial District. If the job goes South, we can torch this building and hide there instead. But it shouldn't come to that. Like Raul said, we're going do our homework, research the Seldon Mistings. In fact... Raul, would you start making inquiries? The rest of us need to collaborate on our cover story. Find a way to convince Nenva that we're legitimate atium dealers." ___________ "Psh. If there was, do you think I would still be here, enjoying your company?" Kell rolled his eyes. "We're stuck here, for several hours at least." ___________ "Already burning," Ollin said. If Chazan tapped one of his tinminds, he should be still be able to hear, even from inside the carriage. "I... hope Daub is waiting for us. Jove's excited to see him." In fact, Jove was staring out the window, absorbed in his hunt for Kredik Shaw. Is that it? What that one? What about this one? Ollin stared into her lap. "It hasn't been easy. Sometimes... it worries him, to have his brother so far away." ___________ Brune heard hoofbeats approaching from behind. Finally, that storming herald. He ducked behind a stand of trees, hidden from the Shardbearer, and waited for Daradin to catch up.
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Post by Leilani Sunblade on Mar 29, 2016 1:55:30 GMT
Kisma obeyed wordlessly, climbing onto the Ryshadium's back once again. She fidgeted until she'd found a mostly comfortable position, with her skirt bunched up as little as possible, and then glanced around to make sure no one else had decided they needed to be a hero too. But she saw no one but the retreating figure of the soldier-messenger. ------------ "Any plan we come up with will require impersonating a noble for some length of time." Calden glanced around the room. "Who here has experience with that?"
"Here's an idea." Westing leaned forward, setting his half-empty plate aside. "What if, instead of hiding from the Great Houses, we hide among them? If some distant member of one of the Houses happened to come to Luthadel for a visit, for instance . . . and what if he happened to suggest to House Seldon that his own house had rethought and was willing to deal with her, but only in secret- if she mentioned it in public, the rest of the House would deny everything and the deal would be off, that sort of thing. And then, after House Seldon had the atium, he could return home before the rest of the House properly realized he'd been there. Meanwhile, we have a great deal of cash, and possibly some entertainment."
Tally shook her head. "You're crazy. It'd never work."
Westing shrugged. "Someone has to be."
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Post by Dmitri Pendragon on Mar 31, 2016 8:00:50 GMT
Questions. Excellent. They were interested, they wanted to know more. Rivven turned to Calden first. "Approaching Nenva--and avoiding the great Houses--may be the most challenging part of our job. Perhaps we could arrange a private meeting with the Seldons. But that just creates new complications: would you buy atium from a guy off the street? We need credentials. A cover story." Now for Tally's question. Rivven hesitated, taking a long sip of tea. "I got the idea from an electrum misting." Change the subject. "But nobody knows about our heist, aside from her and the aforementioned metallurgists. Whom I know personally--" Nodding to Raul. "--and bribed repeatedly. They won't say anything. As for our backup plan..." Rivven raked a hand through his hair. "There's an abandoned cannery in the Commercial District. If the job goes South, we can torch this building and hide there instead. But it shouldn't come to that. Like Raul said, we're going do our homework, research the Seldon Mistings. In fact... Raul, would you start making inquiries? The rest of us need to collaborate on our cover story. Find a way to convince Nenva that we're legitimate atium dealers." ___________ "Psh. If there was, do you think I would still be here, enjoying your company?" Kell rolled his eyes. "We're stuck here, for several hours at least." ___________ "Already burning," Ollin said. If Chazan tapped one of his tinminds, he should be still be able to hear, even from inside the carriage. "I... hope Daub is waiting for us. Jove's excited to see him." In fact, Jove was staring out the window, absorbed in his hunt for Kredik Shaw. Is that it? What that one? What about this one? Ollin stared into her lap. "It hasn't been easy. Sometimes... it worries him, to have his brother so far away." ___________ Brune heard hoofbeats approaching from behind. Finally, that storming herald. He ducked behind a stand of trees, hidden from the Shardbearer, and waited for Daradin to catch up. Gali resigned herself with a sigh and lay back on the bed. "I've made up my mind. I'm not going to kill you." And it worries you as well. Chazan didn't say the words; from Ollin's earlier reaction to a similar remark, he could guess what she'd do. Yes, he was definitely getting to know the other members of the Phoenix Resistance much better. His voice softened. "And that heartens me. Because it shows that even in this dangerous world, where people become calloused to evil just to survive, the Lord Ruler has not managed to stamp out hope." He leaned forward. "Perhaps it's a little thing, hardly worth commenting on. But I must imagine that day after day, you wonder, and you worry, and yet you hope for his return. That is what the Lord Ruler cannot take from us no matter how many of our friends and relatives he butchers to keep his reign supreme. Hope."
(( Lylyss: Wait a moment…have you been using 'herald' to refer to Daradin all this time?)) ((Are there trees on Roshar? I can't remember.)) Daradin's horse galloped straight past Brune. Daradin shot Brune a glare as he passed and mouthed, What are you doing?Surely the fool merchant would recognise that his actions were simply too obvious. Brune planned to follow the Shardbearer, evidenced by his attempt to hide where the Shardbearer wouldn't see him. Daradin jerked his head toward the village and set his face forwards until he galloped through the gates. Electrum Misting. Important. Raul leaned forward. "Inquiries I can do. Allomancy is my speciality. I know of an Allomantic metallurgist not far from the Seldon estate. Shouldn't be hard to find a job there…with a bit of paperwork." Kisma obeyed wordlessly, climbing onto the Ryshadium's back once again. She fidgeted until she'd found a mostly comfortable position, with her skirt bunched up as little as possible, and then glanced around to make sure no one else had decided they needed to be a hero too. But she saw no one but the retreating figure of the soldier-messenger. ------------ "Any plan we come up with will require impersonating a noble for some length of time." Calden glanced around the room. "Who here has experience with that?" "Here's an idea." Westing leaned forward, setting his half-empty plate aside. "What if, instead of hiding from the Great Houses, we hide among them? If some distant member of one of the Houses happened to come to Luthadel for a visit, for instance . . . and what if he happened to suggest to House Seldon that his own house had rethought and was willing to deal with her, but only in secret- if she mentioned it in public, the rest of the House would deny everything and the deal would be off, that sort of thing. And then, after House Seldon had the atium, he could return home before the rest of the House properly realized he'd been there. Meanwhile, we have a great deal of cash, and possibly some entertainment." Tally shook her head. "You're crazy. It'd never work." Westing shrugged. "Someone has to be." "It's not too crazy," Raul said. "Risky, true, but the public mention mitigates the risk a lot. Nenva has nothing to gain and everything to lose by speaking out." He glanced at Calden. "I am not impersonating a noble. I am skaa through and through, and it shows."
The Shardbearer mounted Stonegold with easy grace and touched his spurs to the Ryshadium's side. The horse galloped away.
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Post by jliessa44 on Mar 31, 2016 15:14:26 GMT
"I've had experience among nobles, and I already have an alibi with her, we've met once or twice." Beck spoke tentatively. "I'm pretty recognizable though. So I don't know that I'd be a good choice."
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Post by Leilani Sunblade on Mar 31, 2016 15:24:35 GMT
((*will reply to the Mistborn plot later, probably after Lylyss responds*))
Kisma clung to the saddle, watching the landscape go by and trying to memorize any particular landmarks in case she needed to escape later on.
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Post by Dmitri Pendragon on Apr 1, 2016 22:47:59 GMT
(( Leilani Sunblade: www.tor.com/2013/03/21/the-spren-theory-of-disease-unexpected-science-in-the-way-of-kings/ You might be interested in this post, seeing as Kisma is a surgeon's apprentice.)) The Shardbearer rode through storm-scoured battlefields, some new and reeking of death and decayspren, others old where crem piled over bodies like tombstones. Then in the distance, a large camp of Soulcast houses, bland stone dwellings which would weather the fury of the highstorms. The Shardbearer galloped past the guards who rode out to stop him. They fell in behind for a short time, but then peeled off, obviously realising who he was. The Shardbearer passed houses that grew larger and larger as he pushed deeper into the centre of the camp. He drew the Ryshadium to a stop in a large open courtyard with three tent-shaped houses at the opposite side. Stableboys came running as the Shardbearer dismounted and formed a staircase with his hands again. "The tent on the left will be yours. I have assigned you a maid to assist you." He paused, searching her eyes. "Perhaps a darkeyed maid would be better for you. I had thought your eyes…" He bit off the word. "I will meet with you once you are ready to speak with me. For now, you may know that my name is Jeroam."
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Post by Leilani Sunblade on Apr 2, 2016 1:50:56 GMT
((Ooh. Thanks for posting that- it is pretty interesting. And helpful. But mostly interesting.))
Kisma gingerly climbed down, almost feeling that dropping off herself had been less unsteady. Then again, before she'd still been close to familiar territory, with no one paying much attention to her . . . and now she was in the middle of the presumably-enemy camp- alone, except for an enigma of a spren and a Shardbearer who might or might not be on her side. Oh storms. What have I done?
Well, it was too late to back out now. She squared her shoulders, even as she partially dipped in an odd mix of nod, bow, and curtsy. "Thank you, Brightlord Jeroam." Now what was that about my eyes? And every storming thing that's happened so far today? But she held the questions in, along with the insistence that she'd be quite happy to talk to him right now, thank you very much. He, after all, probably didn't wish to talk to her just yet, if her guess was correct . . . and if there was a maid involved, maybe she could get some information from someone other than the cryptic Jeroam about what was going on. Even gossip would be better than nothing. And if there was no information to be had, well, a little time more-or-less on her own to think through the situation again, figure out what she was doing as best she could. So, she made another polite bobbing not-quite-bow-or-curtsey, added, "I look forward to speaking to you soon, sir," and headed towards the appropriate tent.
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Post by Lylyss on Apr 8, 2016 4:12:04 GMT
"Any plan we come up with will require impersonating a noble for some length of time." Calden glanced around the room. "Who here has experience with that?" "Here's an idea." Westing leaned forward, setting his half-empty plate aside. "What if, instead of hiding from the Great Houses, we hide among them? If some distant member of one of the Houses happened to come to Luthadel for a visit, for instance . . . and what if he happened to suggest to House Seldon that his own house had rethought and was willing to deal with her, but only in secret- if she mentioned it in public, the rest of the House would deny everything and the deal would be off, that sort of thing. And then, after House Seldon had the atium, he could return home before the rest of the House properly realized he'd been there. Meanwhile, we have a great deal of cash, and possibly some entertainment." Tally shook her head. "You're crazy. It'd never work." Westing shrugged. "Someone has to be." Gali resigned herself with a sigh and lay back on the bed. "I've made up my mind. I'm not going to kill you." And it worries you as well. Chazan didn't say the words; from Ollin's earlier reaction to a similar remark, he could guess what she'd do. Yes, he was definitely getting to know the other members of the Phoenix Resistance much better. His voice softened. "And that heartens me. Because it shows that even in this dangerous world, where people become calloused to evil just to survive, the Lord Ruler has not managed to stamp out hope." He leaned forward. "Perhaps it's a little thing, hardly worth commenting on. But I must imagine that day after day, you wonder, and you worry, and yet you hope for his return. That is what the Lord Ruler cannot take from us no matter how many of our friends and relatives he butchers to keep his reign supreme. Hope."
(( Lylyss : Wait a moment…have you been using 'herald' to refer to Daradin all this time?)) ((Are there trees on Roshar? I can't remember.)) Daradin's horse galloped straight past Brune. Daradin shot Brune a glare as he passed and mouthed, What are you doing?Surely the fool merchant would recognise that his actions were simply too obvious. Brune planned to follow the Shardbearer, evidenced by his attempt to hide where the Shardbearer wouldn't see him. Daradin jerked his head toward the village and set his face forwards until he galloped through the gates. Electrum Misting. Important. Raul leaned forward. "Inquiries I can do. Allomancy is my speciality. I know of an Allomantic metallurgist not far from the Seldon estate. Shouldn't be hard to find a job there…with a bit of paperwork." "It's not too crazy," Raul said. "Risky, true, but the public mention mitigates the risk a lot. Nenva has nothing to gain and everything to lose by speaking out." He glanced at Calden. "I am not impersonating a noble. I am skaa through and through, and it shows."
The Shardbearer mounted Stonegold with easy grace and touched his spurs to the Ryshadium's side. The horse galloped away. "I've had experience among nobles, and I already have an alibi with her, we've met once or twice." Beck spoke tentatively. "I'm pretty recognizable though. So I don't know that I'd be a good choice." "Less risk, better credentials, and the smaller Houses wouldn't dare to get in our way." Rivven nodded slowly. "I like it." He glanced at Beck. "You're our only Soother. It makes sense to have you on the undercover team. If you're worried about being recognized, we could create some sort of disguise... or perhaps you could be an attendant instead of the nobleman himself. Has anyone else impersonated nobility before?" Then, as an aside to Raul: "Just tell me what you need, and I'll take care of the paperwork." __________________ ((Dmitri: :P Umm. Yes? Except for that one time, when Brune was praying for protection. If Daradin was a Herald--a capital-H Herald--I would be seriously concerned about Roshar. ;) As for the trees... hmm. Good point. Pretend they're rocks. :P *trees poof into nothingness, replaced by a mound of boulders*)) Brune cursed himself. Storming fool. He sprinted after Daradin, and met the messenger in the village. "I could have used your help back there." __________________ "Oh?" Kell tilted his head. "And why is that?" __________________ "Yes, but..." Ollin was quiet for a moment, staring into her lap. "Are you sure that hope is a good thing?"
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Post by Leilani Sunblade on Apr 8, 2016 21:08:12 GMT
"Westing and I both have some- limited- experience." Calden glanced towards Westing. "Very limited. Wes does a fair job, though, so long as he doesn't get cocky and do something foolish."
"Such high praise from my loving brother." Westing broke off a piece of scone. "Cal's better than I am, but he worries too much that someone will recognize him from his other act of 'honest craftsman'. As if he didn't have the most forgettable face in the history of the empire. Though, he's right, neither of us have extensive practice at it. Just a few pretty brief occasions."
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Post by Dmitri Pendragon on Apr 9, 2016 3:07:22 GMT
Kisma gingerly climbed down, almost feeling that dropping off herself had been less unsteady. Then again, before she'd still been close to familiar territory, with no one paying much attention to her . . . and now she was in the middle of the presumably-enemy camp- alone, except for an enigma of a spren and a Shardbearer who might or might not be on her side. Oh storms. What have I done?Well, it was too late to back out now. She squared her shoulders, even as she partially dipped in an odd mix of nod, bow, and curtsy. "Thank you, Brightlord Jeroam." Now what was that about my eyes? And every storming thing that's happened so far today? But she held the questions in, along with the insistence that she'd be quite happy to talk to him right now, thank you very much. He, after all, probably didn't wish to talk to her just yet, if her guess was correct . . . and if there was a maid involved, maybe she could get some information from someone other than the cryptic Jeroam about what was going on. Even gossip would be better than nothing. And if there was no information to be had, well, a little time more-or-less on her own to think through the situation again, figure out what she was doing as best she could. So, she made another polite bobbing not-quite-bow-or-curtsey, added, "I look forward to speaking to you soon, sir," and headed towards the appropriate tent. Jeroam gave Kisma a slight bow as she left. The dwelling Jeroam had indicated, made of Soulcast stone but shaped like a tent, was unoccupied and unadorned except for a stone table and two high-backed chairs. A doorway on one side revealed a bedroom through the door and a washroom beyond it. Not long afterwards, a darkeyed Alethi maid hurried into the tent and gave a swift curtsey. "Good afternoon, my lady. I'm Edesa. Been told by the master to serve you in any way I can. Are you wanting a bath? Some lunch? What can I do for you?" "Less risk, better credentials, and the smaller Houses wouldn't dare to get in our way." Rivven nodded slowly. "I like it." He glanced at Beck. "You're our only Soother. It makes sense to have you on the undercover team. If you're worried about being recognized, we could create some sort of disguise... or perhaps you could be an attendant instead of the nobleman himself. Has anyone else impersonated nobility before?" Then, as an aside to Raul: "Just tell me what you need, and I'll take care of the paperwork." __________________ ((Dmitri: Umm. Yes? Except for that one time, when Brune was praying for protection. If Daradin was a Herald--a capital-H Herald--I would be seriously concerned about Roshar. )) Brune cursed himself. Storming fool. He sprinted after Daradin, and met the messenger in the village. "I could have used your help back there." __________________ "Oh?" Kell tilted his head. "And why is that?" __________________ "Yes, but..." Ollin was quiet for a moment, staring into her lap. "Are you sure that hope is a good thing?" (( Lylyss: You…I had no idea. I thought Brune was waiting for a real Herald to show up and help him. )) Raul nodded to Rivven. "Will do."
Daradin dismounted, wincing, and raised an eyebrow at Brune. "And? I didn't promise anything but that I'd distract him, and I did that. I'm not the one who wanted to fight a Shardbearer. Evidently he was going easy on you." He folded his arms and leaned against Windrunner, who whinnied and stomped his hooves. "So. What are you going to do now? And, for the record, what is your name?"
Chazan reached out to take Ollin's hand. "If we have not hope, Ollin, then what do we have? In its absence we have but despair, and despair is what the Lord Ruler tries to cultivate in us. I do not deny that a hope cast aside hurts, but I for one would rather bear the sorrows than sink into the apathy the Lord Ruler desires."
"Easy." Gali closed her eyes. "You've already lost your position in the Canton of Inquisition, so I can't ruin that for you any longer. Besides, our purposes align…or at least they don't conflict, so there's more reason for you to work with me than there is for you to murder me in my sleep."
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Post by Leilani Sunblade on Apr 11, 2016 1:07:09 GMT
(( Dmitri Pendragon , Lylyss : I am altogether too amused by this herald confusion. xD Though that would be a rather interesting twist, if a capital-H Herald showed up in response to Brune’s prayers . . .)) Kisma gingerly climbed down, almost feeling that dropping off herself had been less unsteady. Then again, before she'd still been close to familiar territory, with no one paying much attention to her . . . and now she was in the middle of the presumably-enemy camp- alone, except for an enigma of a spren and a Shardbearer who might or might not be on her side. Oh storms. What have I done?Well, it was too late to back out now. She squared her shoulders, even as she partially dipped in an odd mix of nod, bow, and curtsy. "Thank you, Brightlord Jeroam." Now what was that about my eyes? And every storming thing that's happened so far today? But she held the questions in, along with the insistence that she'd be quite happy to talk to him right now, thank you very much. He, after all, probably didn't wish to talk to her just yet, if her guess was correct . . . and if there was a maid involved, maybe she could get some information from someone other than the cryptic Jeroam about what was going on. Even gossip would be better than nothing. And if there was no information to be had, well, a little time more-or-less on her own to think through the situation again, figure out what she was doing as best she could. So, she made another polite bobbing not-quite-bow-or-curtsey, added, "I look forward to speaking to you soon, sir," and headed towards the appropriate tent. Jeroam gave Kisma a slight bow as she left. The dwelling Jeroam had indicated, made of Soulcast stone but shaped like a tent, was unoccupied and unadorned except for a stone table and two high-backed chairs. A doorway on one side revealed a bedroom through the door and a washroom beyond it. Not long afterwards, a darkeyed Alethi maid hurried into the tent and gave a swift curtsey. "Good afternoon, my lady. I'm Edesa. Been told by the master to serve you in any way I can. Are you wanting a bath? Some lunch? What can I do for you?" Kisma, upon entering, made a brief inspection of the tent, partially to see what her living quarters would be like but mostly to make sure there was no one there. Satisfied that she was alone, she collapsed into a chair, rubbing her temples. "Tell me I didn't just make the biggest mistake of my life," she muttered. "What have I gotten myself into?" Zahi unwound himself from around her shoulder and twined himself down her arm and onto the table. "You did not just make the biggest mistake of your life." Kisma gave him a sideways glance. "Can you say that honestly?" "Yes." The spren's vines formed a flower-like face. "I am certain you will make bigger mistakes than this at some point in your life, and this may not have been a mistake." "That was not helpful." Kisma might've said more, but shut her mouth abruptly on hearing quick footsteps approaching. She stood instinctively, then returned to her seat upon realizing it was just the maid. "Thank you, Edesa." She paused, her stomach quietly complaining at the mention of lunch. But the need for information beat out the need for food, and she went on, "Honestly, what I'd appreciate most just now would be if you'd tell me a bit about Brightlord Jeroam. He serves under Jevovah, I assume? Is he well-respected in the camp? Well-liked? Why is he here, rather than on the Shattered Plains?"
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Post by Dmitri Pendragon on Apr 12, 2016 6:59:46 GMT
Kisma, upon entering, made a brief inspection of the tent, partially to see what her living quarters would be like but mostly to make sure there was no one there. Satisfied that she was alone, she collapsed into a chair, rubbing her temples. "Tell me I didn't just make the biggest mistake of my life," she muttered. "What have I gotten myself into?" Zahi unwound himself from around her shoulder and twined himself down her arm and onto the table. "You did not just make the biggest mistake of your life." Kisma gave him a sideways glance. "Can you say that honestly?" "Yes." The spren's vines formed a flower-like face. "I am certain you will make bigger mistakes than this at some point in your life, and this may not have been a mistake." "That was not helpful." Kisma might've said more, but shut her mouth abruptly on hearing quick footsteps approaching. She stood instinctively, then returned to her seat upon realizing it was just the maid. "Thank you, Edesa." She paused, her stomach quietly complaining at the mention of lunch. But the need for information beat out the need for food, and she went on, "Honestly, what I'd appreciate most just now would be if you'd tell me a bit about Brightlord Jeroam. He serves under Jevovah, I assume? Is he well-respected in the camp? Well-liked? Why is he here, rather than on the Shattered Plains?" Edesa set a cloth-covered basket on the table and raised her eyebrows. "Brightlord Jeroam? Respected but feared, he is. You saw his shadow?" She gave Kisma a meaningful glance. "Serves under Brightlord Javavoh, yes. And I don't know why he's here in particular. I make it my business to stay out of his." Edesa glanced over her shoulder before leaning closer. "But you really don't need to ask that question, the ways I see it. He looks to be here for you."
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Post by Leilani Sunblade on Apr 12, 2016 20:53:10 GMT
Kisma, upon entering, made a brief inspection of the tent, partially to see what her living quarters would be like but mostly to make sure there was no one there. Satisfied that she was alone, she collapsed into a chair, rubbing her temples. "Tell me I didn't just make the biggest mistake of my life," she muttered. "What have I gotten myself into?" Zahi unwound himself from around her shoulder and twined himself down her arm and onto the table. "You did not just make the biggest mistake of your life." Kisma gave him a sideways glance. "Can you say that honestly?" "Yes." The spren's vines formed a flower-like face. "I am certain you will make bigger mistakes than this at some point in your life, and this may not have been a mistake." "That was not helpful." Kisma might've said more, but shut her mouth abruptly on hearing quick footsteps approaching. She stood instinctively, then returned to her seat upon realizing it was just the maid. "Thank you, Edesa." She paused, her stomach quietly complaining at the mention of lunch. But the need for information beat out the need for food, and she went on, "Honestly, what I'd appreciate most just now would be if you'd tell me a bit about Brightlord Jeroam. He serves under Jevovah, I assume? Is he well-respected in the camp? Well-liked? Why is he here, rather than on the Shattered Plains?" Edesa set a cloth-covered basket on the table and raised her eyebrows. "Brightlord Jeroam? Respected but feared, he is. You saw his shadow?" She gave Kisma a meaningful glance. "Serves under Brightlord Javavoh, yes. And I don't know why he's here in particular. I make it my business to stay out of his." Edesa glanced over her shoulder before leaning closer. "But you really don't need to ask that question, the ways I see it. He looks to be here for you." His shadow? Kisma hadn't really had a chance to notice things like shadows so far; she'd been much too focused on other things. But given Edesa's look, Kisma had no doubt that this was rather more significant than not. Half-listening to Edesa, she mentally replayed the scene earlier, when Jeroam had stalked down the street, when he'd cornered her- and now that she thought of it . . . had his shadow been going in the wrong direction? It had to be her imagination, but maybe not. And anyway, weren't there some races somewhere that had wrong-way shadows? Or he could be cursed, if old stories are true . . .Kisma shook her head slightly; there was no way to know for sure just now what was true about Brightlord Jeroam and what wasn't. "I've noticed that. But . . ." She shrugged. "I have no idea why-" All right, that was a lie, but not much of one- "and I hoped to find out what the word in the camp is about the Brightlord's plans here. Get an idea what to expect when I actually talk to him. But if you can't tell me that, anything else I should know about him?"
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Post by Lylyss on Apr 13, 2016 4:06:15 GMT
"Westing and I both have some- limited- experience." Calden glanced towards Westing. "Very limited. Wes does a fair job, though, so long as he doesn't get cocky and do something foolish." "Such high praise from my loving brother." Westing broke off a piece of scone. "Cal's better than I am, but he worries too much that someone will recognize him from his other act of 'honest craftsman'. As if he didn't have the most forgettable face in the history of the empire. Though, he's right, neither of us have extensive practice at it. Just a few pretty brief occasions." (( Lylyss : You…I had no idea. I thought Brune was waiting for a real Herald to show up and help him. :P )) Raul nodded to Rivven. "Will do."
Daradin dismounted, wincing, and raised an eyebrow at Brune. "And? I didn't promise anything but that I'd distract him, and I did that. I'm not the one who wanted to fight a Shardbearer. Evidently he was going easy on you." He folded his arms and leaned against Windrunner, who whinnied and stomped his hooves. "So. What are you going to do now? And, for the record, what is your name?"
Chazan reached out to take Ollin's hand. "If we have not hope, Ollin, then what do we have? In its absence we have but despair, and despair is what the Lord Ruler tries to cultivate in us. I do not deny that a hope cast aside hurts, but I for one would rather bear the sorrows than sink into the apathy the Lord Ruler desires."
"Easy." Gali closed her eyes. "You've already lost your position in the Canton of Inquisition, so I can't ruin that for you any longer. Besides, our purposes align…or at least they don't conflict, so there's more reason for you to work with me than there is for you to murder me in my sleep." ((Dmitri and Leilani: *headdesk* *headdesk* *headdesk* xD Oh my goodness... that would have been an interesting twist. And an interesting fight. Herald VS Brightlord!)) "My name is Brune. And I'm going after him." And this time, he won't see me coming. The merchant knelt down in the dirt and began to draw a map of the region. "What about you? What's your name, and what are you going to do?" ______________ Apathy. Yes, she would prefer apathy to pain. After all of the children she had lost, the plans that had failed, the friends who had broken and died... Ollin wished she could just stop caring. But that was impossible. Something always dragged her up again. She was inclined to believe it was hope, like Chazan said, and the belief that we should always try to win, even if the contest was rigged from the start. But there was more to it than that. Spite. "You're right, child." Ollin patted Chazan's hand. "We must never let the world have its way... or at least, that's what Jove says. I personally find his soul-searching quite tedious." "Mommy! Behold!" Her son pressed his face to the window. "Yon spiked citadel bears a striking resemblance to the spires of Kredik Shaw." "That's the post office, child." "Really? The Lord Ruler lives in a post office?" ______________ "Huh." Kell grunted. "And what exactly would I gain from working with you?" ______________ "I know we're all worried about being recognized, but like Westing said, somebody has to be crazy. Somebody has to take the risk." Rivven glanced from crew-member to crew-member, waiting for a volunteer.
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Post by jliessa44 on Apr 13, 2016 12:19:47 GMT
Beck shrugged. "I'm willing, I suppose. But maybe there should be two of us ready, in case."
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Post by Leilani Sunblade on Apr 15, 2016 0:10:10 GMT
"Calden's the better actor," Tally said, quietly. "And if we're sending in a Soother, we should have a Smoker too. 'Else Nenva will realize she's being soothed and she'll balk."
Calden hid his surprise at Tally's words, but nodded. "I'm willing to do it." And he wouldn't mind being a part of a job for once, wouldn't mind not being the one left to cover the escape and wait for everyone else to get back and worry . . .
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Post by Dmitri Pendragon on Apr 16, 2016 8:07:17 GMT
Edesa set a cloth-covered basket on the table and raised her eyebrows. "Brightlord Jeroam? Respected but feared, he is. You saw his shadow?" She gave Kisma a meaningful glance. "Serves under Brightlord Javavoh, yes. And I don't know why he's here in particular. I make it my business to stay out of his." Edesa glanced over her shoulder before leaning closer. "But you really don't need to ask that question, the ways I see it. He looks to be here for you." His shadow? Kisma hadn't really had a chance to notice things like shadows so far; she'd been much too focused on other things. But given Edesa's look, Kisma had no doubt that this was rather more significant than not. Half-listening to Edesa, she mentally replayed the scene earlier, when Jeroam had stalked down the street, when he'd cornered her- and now that she thought of it . . . had his shadow been going in the wrong direction? It had to be her imagination, but maybe not. And anyway, weren't there some races somewhere that had wrong-way shadows? Or he could be cursed, if old stories are true . . .Kisma shook her head slightly; there was no way to know for sure just now what was true about Brightlord Jeroam and what wasn't. "I've noticed that. But . . ." She shrugged. "I have no idea why-" All right, that was a lie, but not much of one- "and I hoped to find out what the word in the camp is about the Brightlord's plans here. Get an idea what to expect when I actually talk to him. But if you can't tell me that, anything else I should know about him?" Edesa cast another look at the door and folded back the cloth on the basket. Round loaves of bread—evidently made from Soulcast grain, by the look—showed underneath. "Um…" She took a deep breath and held it, lips pinched. "He—he's an artifabrian. He does…strange things with spheres. And I really shouldn't be telling you any more." Another glance outside. "Please, mistress. Eat. And I can draw a bath for you if you'd like to clean up before you meet with the Brightlord." "My name is Brune. And I'm going after him." And this time, he won't see me coming. The merchant knelt down in the dirt and began to draw a map of the region. "What about you? What's your name, and what are you going to do?" ______________ Apathy. Yes, she would prefer apathy to pain. After all of the children she had lost, the plans that had failed, the friends who had broken and died... Ollin wished she could just stop caring. But that was impossible. Something always dragged her up again. She was inclined to believe it was hope, like Chazan said, and the belief that we should always try to win, even if the contest was rigged from the start. But there was more to it than that. Spite. "You're right, child." Ollin patted Chazan's hand. "We must never let the world have its way... or at least, that's what Jove says. I personally find his soul-searching quite tedious." "Mommy! Behold!" Her son pressed his face to the window. "Yon spiked citadel bears a striking resemblance to the spires of Kredik Shaw." "That's the post office, child." "Really? The Lord Ruler lives in a post office?" ______________ "Huh." Kell grunted. "And what exactly would I gain from working with you?" ______________ "I know we're all worried about being recognized, but like Westing said, somebody has to be crazy. Somebody has to take the risk." Rivven glanced from crew-member to crew-member, waiting for a volunteer. "I'm not all too worried about being recognised," Raul said quietly. "I have no established identity on the aboveground. Works to my benefit occasionally. Though I'd never pass for a noble, and my skills are strategic rather than manipulative or Allomantic."
"Oh, who knows?" Eyes closed, Gali shrugged lying down, bunching up the yellowed sheet with her shoulders. The tension in her body belied her indifference. "Perhaps the inexplicable absence of two Inquisitors who have a quibble with their superior?"
"Brightlord Daradin Seles." He wound his fingers around Windrunner's reins. "I'm going to return to my army. I've done what I came to do, and I got to save everyone who decided not to risk their storming necks. Whatever else happens is up to you and your village."
Chazan paused, weighing Ollin's words and tone. She'd come around too quickly…too easily. Whatever gripped her could not be so easily removed in a single conversation. No, it would take time, time and pain, before Ollin realised and challenged the lies that held her captive. He sighed and retreated into a shell of silence, arms folded into the sleeves of his Terris robe, eyes downcast as if in submission. Soon it would be time to fight. Not the fight he desired most, the liberation of souls from the Lord Ruler's grip. But the fight that kept his hope alive. Freedom for Zalwen, Keeper of the Synod. His mentor and guardian. His friend. Shouts rang outside the carriage, which jolted to a stop. Chazan blinked out of his shell. Outside the horses neighed, and the coachman yelled in an attempt to get them under control. People swarmed around the carriage, impacting against it with hollow thuds. Brigands, here in Lutha— A coin smashed through the carriage window. Before it had reached the other side, Chazan was on his feet, tapping tin, pewter, iron, enhancing his weight and strength. Not brigands. Allomancers.They surrounded a basilica, a library. All veiled. Coinshots launched coins into the fleeing mass, clearing the crowd. The coin that had gone through their window must have been a stray one. No reason to suspect a noble carriage of being in league with Zalwen, not even a garishly painted one. "They've found him," Chazan said under his breath. "They've found Zalwen."
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Post by Leilani Sunblade on Apr 16, 2016 12:25:44 GMT
His shadow? Kisma hadn't really had a chance to notice things like shadows so far; she'd been much too focused on other things. But given Edesa's look, Kisma had no doubt that this was rather more significant than not. Half-listening to Edesa, she mentally replayed the scene earlier, when Jeroam had stalked down the street, when he'd cornered her- and now that she thought of it . . . had his shadow been going in the wrong direction? It had to be her imagination, but maybe not. And anyway, weren't there some races somewhere that had wrong-way shadows? Or he could be cursed, if old stories are true . . .Kisma shook her head slightly; there was no way to know for sure just now what was true about Brightlord Jeroam and what wasn't. "I've noticed that. But . . ." She shrugged. "I have no idea why-" All right, that was a lie, but not much of one- "and I hoped to find out what the word in the camp is about the Brightlord's plans here. Get an idea what to expect when I actually talk to him. But if you can't tell me that, anything else I should know about him?" Edesa cast another look at the door and folded back the cloth on the basket. Round loaves of bread—evidently made from Soulcast grain, by the look—showed underneath. "Um…" She took a deep breath and held it, lips pinched. "He—he's an artifabrian. He does…strange things with spheres. And I really shouldn't be telling you any more." Another glance outside. "Please, mistress. Eat. And I can draw a bath for you if you'd like to clean up before you meet with the Brightlord." Storms. The woman was terrified. Kisma halfway wondered if she should be as well. Probably. But, as Edesa said and events had made clear, the Brightlord wanted her alive for something. And that meant she had some measure of protection. Or so she hoped. She picked up one of the loaves with a not and a smile for the maid. "A bath would be nice, thank you, Edesa. And thank you for what you told me as well." It had been helpful. Not as much as she'd hoped, but more than she'd expected. And now, nothing to do but eat and bathe and then go see if the Brightlord is going to be any less cryptic . . .
An hour and a half later- longer than Kisma liked, but she absolutely was not going to talk to Brightlord Jeroam with wet hair- Kisma stepped out of the tent, crossed the few steps to the center dwelling, and knocked on the front of it.
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Post by Lylyss on Apr 18, 2016 8:55:31 GMT
Beck shrugged. "I'm willing, I suppose. But maybe there should be two of us ready, in case." "Calden's the better actor," Tally said, quietly. "And if we're sending in a Soother, we should have a Smoker too. 'Else Nenva will realize she's being soothed and she'll balk." Calden hid his surprise at Tally's words, but nodded. "I'm willing to do it." And he wouldn't mind being a part of a job for once, wouldn't mind not being the one left to cover the escape and wait for everyone else to get back and worry . . . "I'm not all too worried about being recognised," Raul said quietly. "I have no established identity on the aboveground. Works to my benefit occasionally. Though I'd never pass for a noble, and my skills are strategic rather than manipulative or Allomantic."
"Oh, who knows?" Eyes closed, Gali shrugged lying down, bunching up the yellowed sheet with her shoulders. The tension in her body belied her indifference. "Perhaps the inexplicable absence of two Inquisitors who have a quibble with their superior?"
"Brightlord Daradin Seles." He wound his fingers around Windrunner's reins. "I'm going to return to my army. I've done what I came to do, and I got to save everyone who decided not to risk their storming necks. Whatever else happens is up to you and your village."
Chazan paused, weighing Ollin's words and tone. She'd come around too quickly…too easily. Whatever gripped her could not be so easily removed in a single conversation. No, it would take time, time and pain, before Ollin realised and challenged the lies that held her captive. He sighed and retreated into a shell of silence, arms folded into the sleeves of his Terris robe, eyes downcast as if in submission. Soon it would be time to fight. Not the fight he desired most, the liberation of souls from the Lord Ruler's grip. But the fight that kept his hope alive. Freedom for Zalwen, Keeper of the Synod. His mentor and guardian. His friend. Shouts rang outside the carriage, which jolted to a stop. Chazan blinked out of his shell. Outside the horses neighed, and the coachman yelled in an attempt to get them under control. People swarmed around the carriage, impacting against it with hollow thuds. Brigands, here in Lutha— A coin smashed through the carriage window. Before it had reached the other side, Chazan was on his feet, tapping tin, pewter, iron, enhancing his weight and strength. Not brigands. Allomancers.They surrounded a basilica, a library. All veiled. Coinshots launched coins into the fleeing mass, clearing the crowd. The coin that had gone through their window must have been a stray one. No reason to suspect a noble carriage of being in league with Zalwen, not even a garishly painted one. "They've found him," Chazan said under his breath. "They've found Zalwen." Brune stared. "That's it? You're just leaving? What about that girl, my neighbor--you'd abandon her to the Shardbearer?" He shook his head, stepping toward Darardin. "Fine then. Run off. But leave your horse." _____________ "Bah!" Kell barked a laugh. "You plan… to kill three Inquisitors? That's insane! Batty! Birdbrained. The cheese has finally slipped off your cracker." He smiled. "Sounds like a great way to waste my weekend."_____________Ollin cursed. "Children! Get away from the window." She ignored her own advice, however, and peered outside. This is a nightmare. Allomancers firing into the crowd. "We've got to evacuate Zalwen--could we shove him in the carriage and lose his assassins in the street?"_____________"Excellent. Thank you both." Rivven laced his fingers, furrowed his brow. "The rest of us will be needed to provide backup for Beck and Calden--if the authorities catch on, or the Great Houses discover our plan, we'll need to hold them off long enough to for everyone to escape."
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Post by Dmitri Pendragon on Apr 19, 2016 7:53:51 GMT
Edesa cast another look at the door and folded back the cloth on the basket. Round loaves of bread—evidently made from Soulcast grain, by the look—showed underneath. "Um…" She took a deep breath and held it, lips pinched. "He—he's an artifabrian. He does…strange things with spheres. And I really shouldn't be telling you any more." Another glance outside. "Please, mistress. Eat. And I can draw a bath for you if you'd like to clean up before you meet with the Brightlord." Storms. The woman was terrified. Kisma halfway wondered if she should be as well. Probably. But, as Edesa said and events had made clear, the Brightlord wanted her alive for something. And that meant she had some measure of protection. Or so she hoped. She picked up one of the loaves with a not and a smile for the maid. "A bath would be nice, thank you, Edesa. And thank you for what you told me as well." It had been helpful. Not as much as she'd hoped, but more than she'd expected. And now, nothing to do but eat and bathe and then go see if the Brightlord is going to be any less cryptic . . .
An hour and a half later- longer than Kisma liked, but she absolutely was not going to talk to Brightlord Jeroam with wet hair- Kisma stepped out of the tent, crossed the few steps to the center dwelling, and knocked on the front of it. A darkeyed servant opened the door and gave a bland bow. "Please follow me, my lady." He shuffled up a flight of stairs and down a corridor, then opened a door. "Brightlord Jeroam, your protege is here." There was no reply from the room, but the servant opened the door wider and waved for Kisma to enter. ((Has Kisma mentioned her name to Jeroam?)) "I'm not all too worried about being recognised," Raul said quietly. "I have no established identity on the aboveground. Works to my benefit occasionally. Though I'd never pass for a noble, and my skills are strategic rather than manipulative or Allomantic."
"Oh, who knows?" Eyes closed, Gali shrugged lying down, bunching up the yellowed sheet with her shoulders. The tension in her body belied her indifference. "Perhaps the inexplicable absence of two Inquisitors who have a quibble with their superior?"
"Brightlord Daradin Seles." He wound his fingers around Windrunner's reins. "I'm going to return to my army. I've done what I came to do, and I got to save everyone who decided not to risk their storming necks. Whatever else happens is up to you and your village."
Chazan paused, weighing Ollin's words and tone. She'd come around too quickly…too easily. Whatever gripped her could not be so easily removed in a single conversation. No, it would take time, time and pain, before Ollin realised and challenged the lies that held her captive. He sighed and retreated into a shell of silence, arms folded into the sleeves of his Terris robe, eyes downcast as if in submission. Soon it would be time to fight. Not the fight he desired most, the liberation of souls from the Lord Ruler's grip. But the fight that kept his hope alive. Freedom for Zalwen, Keeper of the Synod. His mentor and guardian. His friend. Shouts rang outside the carriage, which jolted to a stop. Chazan blinked out of his shell. Outside the horses neighed, and the coachman yelled in an attempt to get them under control. People swarmed around the carriage, impacting against it with hollow thuds. Brigands, here in Lutha— A coin smashed through the carriage window. Before it had reached the other side, Chazan was on his feet, tapping tin, pewter, iron, enhancing his weight and strength. Not brigands. Allomancers.They surrounded a basilica, a library. All veiled. Coinshots launched coins into the fleeing mass, clearing the crowd. The coin that had gone through their window must have been a stray one. No reason to suspect a noble carriage of being in league with Zalwen, not even a garishly painted one. "They've found him," Chazan said under his breath. "They've found Zalwen." Brune stared. "That's it? You're just leaving? What about that girl, my neighbor--you'd abandon her to the Shardbearer?" He shook his head, stepping toward Daradin. "Fine then. Run off. But leave your horse." _____________ "Bah!" Kell barked a laugh. "You plan… to kill three Inquisitors? That's insane! Batty! Birdbrained. The cheese has finally slipped off your cracker." He smiled. "Sounds like a great way to waste my weekend."_____________Ollin cursed. "Children! Get away from the window." She ignored her own advice, however, and peered outside. This is a nightmare. Allomancers firing into the crowd. "We've got to evacuate Zalwen--could we shove him in the carriage and lose his assassins in the street?"_____________"Excellent. Thank you both." Rivven laced his fingers, furrowed his brow. "The rest of us will be needed to provide backup for Beck and Calden--if the authorities catch on, or the Great Houses discover our plan, we'll need to hold them off long enough to for everyone to escape.""I didn't say I'd kill them," Gali muttered. "I said the inexplicable absence, which could mean anything. The Lord Ruler takes an interest in them and recalls them to serve in a better city. We dig up a bit of sludge in their pasts. If worst comes to worst, there's probably more than a few Allomancers in Urteau who have a grudge against Inquisitors. Like you. They're only Mistborn, after all."
"Bronze," Chazan said tersely. "How many Allomancers are there?" Too many to count easily, in fact—the pulsing of metal radiated from three distinct groups, one of them the band of Coinshots firing into the crowd. Chazan pushed open the door opposite the library—the other was pressed shut by the force of the crowd—and glanced back. Grim determination flared in his eyes. "I'm going to find Zalwen. If Steelrunners can make it out of this web, we'll see you in the carriage." In the blink of an eye, he was gone.
"Backup is my specialty." Raul pulled a pad and pen from his breast pocket and scribbled a few notes. "Especially against Allomancers. I know a bit about hazekiller fighting." Understatement. "If it becomes necessary, leave Nenva to me."
"My—No." Daradin whipped out a dagger and stood facing Brune as the merchant approached. "Look, I'm sorry about the girl, but she didn't seem very displeased to go with him. It's one of those romantic sagas. The knight in shining—no, glowing armour rides into the mundane existence of a young woman and lifts her out of the mire of lowlife society. She enters the romantic gallantry of the court and they live happily ever after, blah blah and so on and so forth. Pretty sure she doesn't need to be rescued."
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Post by Leilani Sunblade on Apr 19, 2016 22:03:53 GMT
Storms. The woman was terrified. Kisma halfway wondered if she should be as well. Probably. But, as Edesa said and events had made clear, the Brightlord wanted her alive for something. And that meant she had some measure of protection. Or so she hoped. She picked up one of the loaves with a not and a smile for the maid. "A bath would be nice, thank you, Edesa. And thank you for what you told me as well." It had been helpful. Not as much as she'd hoped, but more than she'd expected. And now, nothing to do but eat and bathe and then go see if the Brightlord is going to be any less cryptic . . .
An hour and a half later- longer than Kisma liked, but she absolutely was not going to talk to Brightlord Jeroam with wet hair- Kisma stepped out of the tent, crossed the few steps to the center dwelling, and knocked on the front of it. A darkeyed servant opened the door and gave a bland bow. "Please follow me, my lady." He shuffled up a flight of stairs and down a corridor, then opened a door. "Brightlord Jeroam, your protege is here." There was no reply from the room, but the servant opened the door wider and waved for Kisma to enter. ((Has Kisma mentioned her name to Jeroam?)) ((No, pretty sure she hasn't. He never asked, and she forgot. But if it's convenient, we can say she did at some point offscreen or something?)) So she was his protege, now? Interesting. But it was better than the alternatives she'd thought of so far. She stepped inside, bobbing slightly in a curtsy-ish motion. "Brightlord? You said to come when I was ready to speak to you." "Excellent. Thank you both." Rivven laced his fingers, furrowed his brow. "The rest of us will be needed to provide backup for Beck and Calden--if the authorities catch on, or the Great Houses discover our plan, we'll need to hold them off long enough to for everyone to escape."
"Backup is my specialty." Raul pulled a pad and pen from his breast pocket and scribbled a few notes. "Especially against Allomancers. I know a bit about hazekiller fighting." Understatement. "If it becomes necessary, leave Nenva to me." "Gladly." Westing bit into his last scone. "I'll do my share of the fighting if the situation comes to that, but I'd rather not go up against a full Mistborn. Though that would be an exciting fight . . ." "Not if you got killed in the first five minutes," Tally muttered. Louder, she added, "Sounds fair." But she eyed Raul with interest. He'd said hazekiller fighting, which meant either he didn't have an offensive Allomancy metal like she and Wes did or he was trying to convince them that he didn't have one. Either way, she'd have to look into his background later, when she had time.
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Post by Dmitri Pendragon on Apr 21, 2016 2:15:56 GMT
A darkeyed servant opened the door and gave a bland bow. "Please follow me, my lady." He shuffled up a flight of stairs and down a corridor, then opened a door. "Brightlord Jeroam, your protege is here." There was no reply from the room, but the servant opened the door wider and waved for Kisma to enter. ((Has Kisma mentioned her name to Jeroam?)) ((No, pretty sure she hasn't. He never asked, and she forgot. But if it's convenient, we can say she did at some point offscreen or something?)) So she was his protege, now? Interesting. But it was better than the alternatives she'd thought of so far. She stepped inside, bobbing slightly in a curtsy-ish motion. "Brightlord? You said to come when I was ready to speak to you." "Correction," said Jeroam. He stood on a balcony at the rear of the building, his figure silhouetted by the sunlight, his shadow stretching toward the fiery globe in the distance. "I said I would meet with you when you were ready to speak to me." He turned as if looking in her direction, but the sun's brightness covered his face. "There are…cultural principles about such meetings. I would have expected you to send the maid." ((Okay, thanks for clarifying. I may resort to the convenient way, I may not. Depends on how this scene flows.)) Immersed as he was in his notes, Raul missed Tally's interested gaze entirely. "So we have Calden and Beck on our counterfeit noble House. Perhaps a noble bodyguard to lend protection from skaa brigands as well?" He grinned humourlessly at his pad. "I'm talking about a first line of defence. We have a Smoker and a Soother on that team, neither of which are battle metals. Are there any Coinshots or Thugs among you who can impersonate a noble well?"
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Post by jliessa44 on Apr 21, 2016 2:31:46 GMT
Mil and Dev shook their heads almost in unison. Dev, because he didn't want his sister in such danger and Mil because she didn't think she'd make a good noble.
"Wish I could, but they'd see through me a mile away." She laughed lightly, ignoring her brother's disapproving frown.
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Post by Leilani Sunblade on Apr 21, 2016 13:01:54 GMT
((No, pretty sure she hasn't. He never asked, and she forgot. But if it's convenient, we can say she did at some point offscreen or something?)) So she was his protege, now? Interesting. But it was better than the alternatives she'd thought of so far. She stepped inside, bobbing slightly in a curtsy-ish motion. "Brightlord? You said to come when I was ready to speak to you." "Correction," said Jeroam. He stood on a balcony at the rear of the building, his figure silhouetted by the sunlight, his shadow stretching toward the fiery globe in the distance. "I said I would meet with you when you were ready to speak to me." He turned as if looking in her direction, but the sun's brightness covered his face. "There are…cultural principles about such meetings. I would have expected you to send the maid." ((Okay, thanks for clarifying. I may resort to the convenient way, I may not. Depends on how this scene flows.)) ((You're welcome.)) Kisma looked faintly embarrassed- I should've thought of that!- for a moment before resuming her usual stubborn expression. "If you like, one could say I'm a backwoods girl who's mostly unaware of that sort of thing." Which wouldn't be entirely accurate, and her tone suggested so, but given where she'd come from, no one would be surprised if it was true. "One could also point out that I'm not used to having someone to send, and that I am used to having to go to people myself." Or that I was impatient and forgot, besides those things . . . At a hissed reminder from Zahi, she added, in a slightly less defensive tone, "My apologies for the mistake. It will not happen again." Immersed as he was in his notes, Raul missed Tally's interested gaze entirely. "So we have Calden and Beck on our counterfeit noble House. Perhaps a noble bodyguard to lend protection from skaa brigands as well?" He grinned humourlessly at his pad. "I'm talking about a first line of defence. We have a Smoker and a Soother on that team, neither of which are battle metals. Are there any Coinshots or Thugs among you who can impersonate a noble well?" Mil and Dev shook their heads almost in unison. Dev, because he didn't want his sister in such danger and Mil because she didn't think she'd make a good noble. "Wish I could, but they'd see through me a mile away." She laughed lightly, ignoring her brother's disapproving frown. Westing raised a hand. "Thug, here. Like we already said, I can pass for a noble." He glanced down at Tally, who was still trying to memorize Raul's appearance. "Tally's a coinshot, but I'm not sure how well she'd do as a noble." He caught her elbow as she jabbed it at his ribs again. "Not to mention that her grumpiness would scare off whoever we met." In a lower voice, he added, "Calm down, Tal." Tally huffed and gave him a "don't talk about me like I'm not listening" look. "I could pass for a noble just as well as you can, or better. Probably. If I wanted to. But I'd rather be on backup." That wasn't entirely true. If she was on backup, she'd worry after Calden and possibly Beck and maybe, just maybe Westing too, while they were somewhere she couldn't get to. But if she wasn't on backup, she'd still worry, so what was the point?
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Post by Lylyss on Apr 22, 2016 9:52:38 GMT
"I didn't say I'd kill them," Gali muttered. "I said the inexplicable absence, which could mean anything. The Lord Ruler takes an interest in them and recalls them to serve in a better city. We dig up a bit of sludge in their pasts. If worst comes to worst, there's probably more than a few Allomancers in Urteau who have a grudge against Inquisitors. Like you. They're only Mistborn, after all."
"Bronze," Chazan said tersely. "How many Allomancers are there?" Too many to count easily, in fact—the pulsing of metal radiated from three distinct groups, one of them the band of Coinshots firing into the crowd. Chazan pushed open the door opposite the library—the other was pressed shut by the force of the crowd—and glanced back. Grim determination flared in his eyes. "I'm going to find Zalwen. If Steelrunners can make it out of this web, we'll see you in the carriage." In the blink of an eye, he was gone.
"Backup is my specialty." Raul pulled a pad and pen from his breast pocket and scribbled a few notes. "Especially against Allomancers. I know a bit about hazekiller fighting." Understatement. "If it becomes necessary, leave Nenva to me."
"My—No." Daradin whipped out a dagger and stood facing Brune as the merchant approached. "Look, I'm sorry about the girl, but she didn't seem very displeased to go with him. It's one of those romantic sagas. The knight in shining—no, glowing armour rides into the mundane existence of a young woman and lifts her out of the mire of lowlife society. She enters the romantic gallantry of the court and they live happily ever after, blah blah and so on and so forth. Pretty sure she doesn't need to be rescued." ((Dmitri... Daradin is cracking me up. xD)) What she said was true--there were plenty of Allomancers who would love to be rid of the Inquisitors. Kell smiled wider. "I like it. And these particular Inquisitors have a particularly sordid past among the nobility. I was involved in the coverup. But I can be part of the exposé." ________________ "That's not true. You know that's not true." Brune stepped forward, unfazed by the knife. "She's probably alone, abandoned, imprisoned--darkeyes are cheap things during wartime." ________________ "Ha HA! To battle!" Jove sprung after Chazan. "My manful pride is delighted by such a challenge." Ollin tried to catch his cloak, but too late--her son was gone. Fear seized the old woman's heart. Daub is probably out there as well... she firmed her jaw, flared Pewter, and set off after them. "Gladly." Westing bit into his last scone. "I'll do my share of the fighting if the situation comes to that, but I'd rather not go up against a full Mistborn. Though that would be an exciting fight . . ." "Not if you got killed in the first five minutes," Tally muttered. Louder, she added, "Sounds fair." But she eyed Raul with interest. He'd said hazekiller fighting, which meant either he didn't have an offensive Allomancy metal like she and Wes did or he was trying to convince them that he didn't have one. Either way, she'd have to look into his background later, when she had time. Rivven suppressed a smile. It was refreshing to collaborate with other Mistings--skaa crews were easier to work with, but never understood the mechanics of Allomancy. "I like Raul's idea. House lords never travel without bodyguard, and Nenva might be suspicious if we appeared with a few... but what if we took it a step further? What if we had a second line of defense? A perimeter of sorts, to keep trouble away while the nobles negotiate?" He shrugged. "As a Lurcher, that's probably where I would be the most useful. Out in the open, where there's room to maneuver. Mill, Dev, Tally, you're welcome to join me."
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Post by Leilani Sunblade on Apr 22, 2016 20:56:58 GMT
"Good idea. I'll join that." Tally gave a decisive nod, defying anyone to argue- not that anyone would have much reason to. She would've found a way to try to stay close by even if someone hadn't suggested the perimeter.
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