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Post by Leilani Sunblade on May 17, 2016 2:01:51 GMT
"Again you wound me." Westing sighed dramatically. "It seems I'm fated to be surrounded by sharp-tongued women. Ah well."
Tally, still in her chair but listening closely, huffed. "There's two of us here. That's not enough to surround anyone properly, let alone a hulking behemoth like you."
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Post by jliessa44 on May 17, 2016 12:44:53 GMT
"Though, I'm no small garden flower myself." Mil chuckled, watching the two.
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Post by Dmitri Pendragon on May 19, 2016 7:24:11 GMT
That sounds like a maxim. Not an oath. But Kisma didn't comment on it, instead mentally filing it away to consider later. She leaned forward slightly as incredulity gave way to curiosity with the change of subject. "The Sword of Shadesmar?" She thought for a moment. "It sounds vaguely familiar . . . I'm guessing it's a legend of some sort? If it is, I might've read it once, but . . . not for years." Not for half her lifetime, really. Not since she was a child sneaking volumes of adventure stories and myths from her father's ever-changing stock when she was bored and couldn't sneak herself out of the house instead . . . She glanced at Zahi, wondering if this comment too would jar his memory, but he was silent. "A legend, a folk tale, a prophecy. Call it what you will. They all become the same in the end." Jeroam fixed his gaze on the parchment. "Whatever its nature, it is said that a Knight Radiant, Feledal by name, laid down his blade in mourning over the Recreance and asked the Almighty that he might return when Roshar had need of him. The Almighty granted his request, and for many years Feledal lay asleep in a tomb of stone and fire. His Shardblade became known as the Sword of Shadesmar, and according to legend"—he crumpled the piece of paper in his hand—"it is believed to reside beneath the Brazen Hills." He stared at the edge of the sinking sun just visible on the horizon. "I know what you're thinking. A child's tale. Ridiculous. Why should anyone believe a tale that may well be have spun by a storyteller many years ago? Yet I cannot help but believe there must be some truth in it." He raised his pendant with the glowing spheres. "The Knights Radiant are returning. Is it a coincidence that you happened to bond with your spren here, in the location mentioned in the legend?" Jeroam turned to impale her with his gaze. "I think not."
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Post by Leilani Sunblade on May 19, 2016 23:56:59 GMT
"Though, I'm no small garden flower myself." Mil chuckled, watching the two. Tally cracked a slight smile. "True. Between the two of us, we might have a chance of half-surrounding him, at least." Westing, tactfully, did not comment on Mil's statement, instead rolling his eyes at Tally. "Heartless, I say. Sharp-tongued and heartless. Ah well. Such is life." He turned back to Mil. "Do you and your brother need help settling in? I'd be happy to assist, once our fearless leader-" he glanced at Rivven- "releases us." That sounds like a maxim. Not an oath. But Kisma didn't comment on it, instead mentally filing it away to consider later. She leaned forward slightly as incredulity gave way to curiosity with the change of subject. "The Sword of Shadesmar?" She thought for a moment. "It sounds vaguely familiar . . . I'm guessing it's a legend of some sort? If it is, I might've read it once, but . . . not for years." Not for half her lifetime, really. Not since she was a child sneaking volumes of adventure stories and myths from her father's ever-changing stock when she was bored and couldn't sneak herself out of the house instead . . . She glanced at Zahi, wondering if this comment too would jar his memory, but he was silent. "A legend, a folk tale, a prophecy. Call it what you will. They all become the same in the end." Jeroam fixed his gaze on the parchment. "Whatever its nature, it is said that a Knight Radiant, Feledal by name, laid down his blade in mourning over the Recreance and asked the Almighty that he might return when Roshar had need of him. The Almighty granted his request, and for many years Feledal lay asleep in a tomb of stone and fire. His Shardblade became known as the Sword of Shadesmar, and according to legend"—he crumpled the piece of paper in his hand—"it is believed to reside beneath the Brazen Hills." He stared at the edge of the sinking sun just visible on the horizon. "I know what you're thinking. A child's tale. Ridiculous. Why should anyone believe a tale that may well be have spun by a storyteller many years ago? Yet I cannot help but believe there must be some truth in it." He raised his pendant with the glowing spheres. "The Knights Radiant are returning. Is it a coincidence that you happened to bond with your spren here, in the location mentioned in the legend?" Jeroam turned to impale her with his gaze. "I think not." Stormfather. The messenger was right again. Though, the first time he'd been right, he'd been joking . . . perhaps she shouldn't have been so harsh on him; even if he had been annoying, he'd at least known what he was talking about, even when he didn't know he knew. Ah well. She'd likely never see him again, so wishing she'd done something differently wouldn't do any good. Kisma squirmed slightly as Jeroam's stare pinned her once again. "With due respect, brightlord, I think it very well could be a coincidence. I'm not arguing whether or not the legend is true-" It might well be; there were more ridiculous-sounding ideas that were accepted as absolutely true- "but I don't believe that the presence of a Knight Radiant's tomb makes the appearance of other Radiants nearby more or less likely." She eyed the parchment in Jeroam's hands, wishing she could get a look at it. "Are there clues of some kind in that legend about the tomb's exact location? How it could be found? If not, well, there's plenty of places in the hills where it could be hidden. You could be searching for weeks, months even."
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Post by Lylyss on May 20, 2016 10:45:58 GMT
Raul scowled at his notes. So Nenva's brother was a legend among Seekers, huh? He chafed on the inside but wrote it down anyway. It wouldn't hurt to probe the man's mind if he could get him alone and unwitting. Test his abilities. Figure out what he could do and how he could do it. He raised his voice loud enough for Mil to hear. "If you need people to test your edge against, I can't help you, but this safe house has plenty of space if that's what you need."
From his closed hand the Coinshot sprayed coins at Jove from point-blank range. He Pushed off the nails in a house across the street, edging himself out of the way of Jove's strike, but the massive dagger still slashed through his tunic and drew a line of blood from his leg. Grunting, the Coinshot Pushed off the coins scattered across the ground and whirled high into the air. He unsheathed a wooden duelling cane from his side as he rose to the top of his Push, then let go, diving toward Jove like a lightning bolt from heaven and bringing down the cane toward Jove's head. At the last moment he Pushed on the coins on the ground, slowing his fall enough to land safely.
Gali hunched into the corner and pulled her ash-stained tunic about her shoulders. "I haven't been in Urteau for a long time, but I know a few noble houses with bad feelings toward the Steel Ministry. House Trevion lost their house heir to Inquisitors for some reason I'm not aware of. We need to approach them, solicit the help of their Allomancers. Then there's House Sela, from whom the Steel Ministry confiscated a few barge loads because they were smuggling contraband. House Venture is a newer noble house in this area, but I know they provide Allomancer mercenaries for those with the right contacts." She paused and eyed Kell. "Of course, if there are any in the region, a kandra would be useful too."
Nathin shook off Ollin's arm but followed her across the room, matching her pace. "What's your name?" Zalwen scowled, a scowl suddenly cut off as Chazan stopped directly before him. The elder Terrisman stared at Chazan with thunder on his brow and lightning in his eyes. "Why are you of all people here?" "Because you are," Chazan said. "And because no matter our disagreements, I care about what happens to you." Zalwen grasped Chazan's forearm. "You're a fool, but you're also a sight for sore eyes." He pressed his walking stick into Chazan's hand. "Nathin knows what to do with this. If I can't get out, don't come back with it." He hurried after Nathin and Ollin, enhancing his speed with steel. Chazan gripped the walking stick and glanced over his shoulder. The Thugs picked their way through the people he'd knocked over, their speed breathtaking to watch. He turned and sped toward the windows, easily catching up with Zalwen. His steel was running low. They'd have to get out quickly.
Daradin slapped his palm on Windrunner's saddle, making the horse startle. He bit back a curse and spun to face Brune. "Okay. Fine. I'm with you until we've rescued your girlfriend. What's your plan?" ((Oh yes. Daradin and Jove would make a great duo. A pity they're separated by worlds.)) ((Lol. Maybe someday Sanderson will write a crossover, and we'll find an excuse for them to meet. :P)) Jove gasped. Coins! He turned his sissone into a pirouette, but it was impossible to avoid a shot at point-blank. Seventy-five cents of agony ripped up his arm. Thankfully, it wasn't a serious injury--while spinning hadn't been able to save him, it had apparently lessened the severity of his wound. "Alas! My shirt! Do you know how difficult it is to blot out a bloodstain?" The Coinshot wasn't listening. He was falling. Judging from his angle with the street, the fiend was Pushing off a couple of nearby clips... Jove smiled. The gods have truly kissed me with wisdom. He kicked the clips--the Coinshot's anchors--sending them flying into the crowd. Hopefully, that would upset his enemy's descent and send him plummeting to the ground. _________________ "Ollin." A dozen coins took flight from Ollin's hand, zinging to the window and shattering the glass. "Now please, child. Let me take your arm. The Feruchemists have Iron to break their fall, but you have nothing, unless I carry you." Without waiting for a reply, Ollin tried to grab Nathin once more and Pushed herself out the window. _________________ A plan. Right. He needed a plan. Brune rubbed his neck, glancing away. "I assume you know where the Shardbearer's camp is? Your army must keep tabs on that sort of thing." _________________ "Kandra? Hmmm. Interesting. I'm rather squeamish around those creatures, but goodness, the Ministry certainly won't expect a kandra." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I happen to be acquainted with a certain ReMuur, but you'll have to provide the atium. He won't work for anything less." _________________ "This particular brother, Tarquin, should be back by next week. Not sure if we'll be able to complete the heist by then. But hopefully the riskiest parts will be taken care of." Rivven nodded to the group. "Yes, I suppose we're adjourned. If anyone wants to train, there's a large, concrete vault down the hall. Looks like an abandoned warehouse." Rivven stacked teacup on the table, then turned to Calden and Beck. "I'd like to help with your alibis, if that's alright."
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Post by Leilani Sunblade on May 20, 2016 12:21:22 GMT
Next week. No, they wouldn't be able to finish the heist by then. But they'd manage, one way or another. Calden nodded to Rivven. "Of course. Help would be welcome."
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Post by jliessa44 on May 20, 2016 16:26:10 GMT
"Help would be-" Mil frowned as she was cut off by her brother.
Dev stood and shook his head. "We'll be fine." --- Beck gave Rivven an distantly regal nod as he thought. "Of course."
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Post by Lylyss on May 24, 2016 4:42:38 GMT
"Great." Rivven smiled his thanks. "Did you guys have anything special in mind? Any characters you're particularly good at?"
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Post by jliessa44 on May 24, 2016 12:59:27 GMT
"Shy Nobel is my best, but I've others." Beck flashed a smile.
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Post by Leilani Sunblade on May 24, 2016 16:34:32 GMT
Westing glanced from Mil to Dev and decided getting between them wouldn't be the wisest idea. "Right, then. Let me know if you change your mind; I'll be around." ~~ "I don't have a particular specialty, no." Calden could play most noble characters, save the most flamboyant ones- he left those to Westing. "I have records about the more important noble families with my things; I planned to look through those and see if they gave me any ideas. Speaking of which . . ." He glanced over at Westing. "Wes, tonight and tomorrow night, I need you to check on the Great Houses, make sure none of them are expecting out-of-city members to visit in the next week or two. It would be inconvenient if whoever we choose decided to show up themselves in the middle of our job."
Westing gave a mock salute. "Right. I'll say hello to some of my friends; they'll know if anyone does."
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Post by Dmitri Pendragon on May 25, 2016 7:42:55 GMT
Stormfather. The messenger was right again. Though, the first time he'd been right, he'd been joking . . . perhaps she shouldn't have been so harsh on him; even if he had been annoying, he'd at least known what he was talking about, even when he didn't know he knew. Ah well. She'd likely never see him again, so wishing she'd done something differently wouldn't do any good. Kisma squirmed slightly as Jeroam's stare pinned her once again. "With due respect, brightlord, I think it very well could be a coincidence. I'm not arguing whether or not the legend is true-" It might well be; there were more ridiculous-sounding ideas that were accepted as absolutely true- "but I don't believe that the presence of a Knight Radiant's tomb makes the appearance of other Radiants nearby more or less likely." She eyed the parchment in Jeroam's hands, wishing she could get a look at it. "Are there clues of some kind in that legend about the tomb's exact location? How it could be found? If not, well, there's plenty of places in the hills where it could be hidden. You could be searching for weeks, months even." ((Which post is Kisma referring to in her first paragraph? Sorry, that must have been unintentional foreshadowing. XD )) Jeroam waved away Kisma's argument for coincidences and addressed instead her concern. "If the legend pointed to the tomb's location, it would no doubt have been found. Yet I have hopes that somehow your presence will prove instrumental in finding it. The legend refers to Shadesmar, the realm of the spren, which gives me hope that your spren will be able to find the spren who bonded with Feledal." Jove gasped. Coins! He turned his sissone into a pirouette, but it was impossible to avoid a shot at point-blank. Seventy-five cents of agony ripped up his arm. Thankfully, it wasn't a serious injury--while spinning hadn't been able to save him, it had apparently lessened the severity of his wound. "Alas! My shirt! Do you know how difficult it is to blot out a bloodstain?" The Coinshot wasn't listening. He was falling. Judging from his angle with the street, the fiend was Pushing off a couple of nearby clips... Jove smiled. The gods have truly kissed me with wisdom. He kicked the clips--the Coinshot's anchors--sending them flying into the crowd. Hopefully, that would upset his enemy's descent and send him plummeting to the ground. _________________ "Ollin." A dozen coins took flight from Ollin's hand, zinging to the window and shattering the glass. "Now please, child. Let me take your arm. The Feruchemists have Iron to break their fall, but you have nothing, unless I carry you." Without waiting for a reply, Ollin tried to grab Nathin once more and Pushed herself out the window. _________________ A plan. Right. He needed a plan. Brune rubbed his neck, glancing away. "I assume you know where the Shardbearer's camp is? Your army must keep tabs on that sort of thing." _________________ "Kandra? Hmmm. Interesting. I'm rather squeamish around those creatures, but goodness, the Ministry certainly won't expect a kandra." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I happen to be acquainted with a certain ReMuur, but you'll have to provide the atium. He won't work for anything less." _________________ "This particular brother, Tarquin, should be back by next week. Not sure if we'll be able to complete the heist by then. But hopefully the riskiest parts will be taken care of." Rivven nodded to the group. "Yes, I suppose we're adjourned. If anyone wants to train, there's a large, concrete vault down the hall. Looks like an abandoned warehouse." Rivven stacked teacup on the table, then turned to Calden and Beck. "I'd like to help with your alibis, if that's alright." The moment Jove had chosen to attack the imperial coinage was the moment where the Coinshot had released the coins to be able to fall. As they went flying into the crowd, the Coinshot pushed two clips to the ground in an attempt to catch himself. Still, the damage was done. The Coinshot's new arc launched him away from the crowd and toward the library, where he Pushed off a new anchor to fall lightly to the ground. He snatched a new set of coins from his pocket. With pinpoint accuracy, he fired them at the Thug, changing the angle of his Push slightly each time to ensure the Thug could not slip through.
The coins Ollin had pushed zipped back through the window toward her, punching new holes through the glass. Through the breaches in the stained glass a company of Coinshots and Lurchers, identifiable by their slow-burning steel and iron, guarded the windows. The man who had Pushed the coins back was tall and thin, dressed all in black. His hand was upraised.
Daradin groaned under his breath. "You don't even have a plan." He sat cross-legged on the ground and scratched a crude map in the hardened crem. It broke his fingernails but left marks anyway. "Right. Here's your village. Here are the Brazen Hills." An X in the middle of squiggly lines meant to denote hills. Hey, it was crem. "And here's Javavoh's camp." It was a good distance away…if Brune knew the proportions he had in mind. Across an entire battlefield, no less. He looked up at Brune. "But let's get one thing straight. You are not walking into that camp with your sword drawn and fighting your way in. That would be utterly cr—stupid." Crazy was too much like the merchant. "Just think about it a moment. Eventually whatever luck and fate and destiny guided your blade back then is going to run out sometimes. Who know? Maybe the Nightwatcher put a curse on you that makes you unable to be killed by a Shardbearer." He laughed, but it was a hollow sound. "Well, there are plenty of men in that camp, and that Shardbearer is not going to be living on the outskirts. You'd be cut down shortly past the sentries, if even there."
Gali raised her eyebrows. "What do you think I am, a rusting Mistborn? I don't need atium." She pursed her lips. "Who provides atium to Urteau's Mistborn? If they have any besides the Inquisitors, that is?"
Raul left the table without another word and marched to his desk. Ideas and possibilities bounced around his head, and he'd have to work fast to get them all out before they escaped. Make a note to talk with Rivven once the others have gone.
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Post by Leilani Sunblade on May 25, 2016 13:10:18 GMT
Stormfather. The messenger was right again. Though, the first time he'd been right, he'd been joking . . . perhaps she shouldn't have been so harsh on him; even if he had been annoying, he'd at least known what he was talking about, even when he didn't know he knew. Ah well. She'd likely never see him again, so wishing she'd done something differently wouldn't do any good. Kisma squirmed slightly as Jeroam's stare pinned her once again. "With due respect, brightlord, I think it very well could be a coincidence. I'm not arguing whether or not the legend is true-" It might well be; there were more ridiculous-sounding ideas that were accepted as absolutely true- "but I don't believe that the presence of a Knight Radiant's tomb makes the appearance of other Radiants nearby more or less likely." She eyed the parchment in Jeroam's hands, wishing she could get a look at it. "Are there clues of some kind in that legend about the tomb's exact location? How it could be found? If not, well, there's plenty of places in the hills where it could be hidden. You could be searching for weeks, months even." ((Which post is Kisma referring to in her first paragraph? Sorry, that must have been unintentional foreshadowing. XD )) Jeroam waved away Kisma's argument for coincidences and addressed instead her concern. "If the legend pointed to the tomb's location, it would no doubt have been found. Yet I have hopes that somehow your presence will prove instrumental in finding it. The legend refers to Shadesmar, the realm of the spren, which gives me hope that your spren will be able to find the spren who bonded with Feledal." ((She's referring to this one: No girlish reaction, only incredulity. Daradin frowned as he rose to his feet. Perhaps he needed to revise his image of females. He chose to ignore her comment about normal people—she evidently meant people who enslaved themselves to the whip-cracking taskmaster known as culture—and instead addressed her question. "Evidently Brightlord Javavoh would." He teased a smile and lowered his voice still further. "Perhaps there's something here he deems worthy of sending Shardbearers after. A pretty face, perhaps?" He twitched his eyebrows and smirked, awaiting a reaction that would be cold or hot, one of them. Either way, his assessment of her personality said she probably wouldn't appreciate the comment. Same one as before, actually- and in all fairness, the "something" could be taken as referring either jokingly to the "pretty face" or seriously to an object or such. Or it could be referring to both. Either way, you did a very good job of unintentionally foreshadowing quite a bit with two sentences, which is not something to apologize for. xD)) Kisma looked at Zahi; Zahi coiled and uncoiled himself around the arm of the chair. "I can try. But it will not be easy. Distance is distance even in Shadesmar. Even for spren. The Knight's spren would not be far from the tomb, I do not think. And many of the spren who bonded Knights before the Recreance were . . ." He trailed off momentarily, as if uncertain of the word to use. "Were broken." "Broken?" Kisma echoed, frowning slightly. "Broken how?" Zahi remained silent, winding himself back and forth along the chair arm as if pacing, and Kisma sighed, knowing no amount of prying would get further details from him right now.
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Post by jliessa44 on May 25, 2016 13:44:56 GMT
Westing glanced from Mil to Dev and decided getting between them wouldn't be the wisest idea. "Right, then. Let me know if you change your mind; I'll be around." ~~ "I don't have a particular specialty, no." Calden could play most noble characters, save the most flamboyant ones- he left those to Westing. "I have records about the more important noble families with my things; I planned to look through those and see if they gave me any ideas. Speaking of which . . ." He glanced over at Westing. "Wes, tonight and tomorrow night, I need you to check on the Great Houses, make sure none of them are expecting out-of-city members to visit in the next week or two. It would be inconvenient if whoever we choose decided to show up themselves in the middle of our job." Westing gave a mock salute. "Right. I'll say hello to some of my friends; they'll know if anyone does." Mil sighed. "I'll be back to thump you once my brother releases me." ---------- "Most inconvenient." Beck smiled absently.
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Post by Lylyss on May 26, 2016 20:50:55 GMT
((Don't have time to reply to everything, so I'll just reply to the heist team real fast, since that's the simplest. :) ))
So. Probably a shy noble, paired with whatever Calden chose to play. Rivven rubbed his chin. "If Beck is going to be the quiet one, then Calden might need to be a more forceful personality. Just to balance things out."
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Post by Leilani Sunblade on May 26, 2016 21:11:39 GMT
"Right then." Westing grinned. "I look forward to it- or, to your attempts, anyway." ~~ Calden nodded. He could do forceful. Just not flamboyant. "That would be ideal, yes." He paused, considering. "Is there a particular House either of you think would be best to claim? Or one that you think we should avoid claiming to be of?" Currently, Calden was leaning towards House Venture- it was important enough to have atium to sell, and had enough in-House conflict that, if they were careful, no one would be surprised at his and Beck's avoiding other members of that House in public.
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Post by jliessa44 on May 27, 2016 1:48:17 GMT
"Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that, hon." She laughed and did a finger wave before bouncing off behind Dev. --------------- Beck shrugged as he thought. "I'm not really that sure. I would prefer to avoid the <insert minor house name Beck could have belonged to> House. They're minor anyway, and not likely to have any atium, but still."
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Post by Leilani Sunblade on May 29, 2016 23:51:15 GMT
Calden raised an eyebrow slightly. "I hadn't even been considering them, so there's no need to worry about that."
((Some of you have probably seen this already, but starting tomorrow, I'll be on a two-week internet hiatus. Try not to explode anything without me, please. That goes for all the threads, not just this one. xD))
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Post by jliessa44 on May 30, 2016 0:56:22 GMT
"Just thought I'd mention it." He shrugged.
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Post by Dmitri Pendragon on May 30, 2016 6:52:36 GMT
Kisma looked at Zahi; Zahi coiled and uncoiled himself around the arm of the chair. "I can try. But it will not be easy. Distance is distance even in Shadesmar. Even for spren. The Knight's spren would not be far from the tomb, I do not think. And many of the spren who bonded Knights before the Recreance were . . ." He trailed off momentarily, as if uncertain of the word to use. "Were broken." "Broken?" Kisma echoed, frowning slightly. "Broken how?" Zahi remained silent, winding himself back and forth along the chair arm as if pacing, and Kisma sighed, knowing no amount of prying would get further details from him right now. Jeroam watched the spren, his expression displaying interest, but when Zahi fell silent, he sighed and covered the expression with distaste. "I cannot answer your question to the spren, as my studies have not covered how a spren can die." He flexed his fingers, popping the knuckles. "I too am interested in how spren are broken. And how they can be fixed." He clasped his hands behind his back. "Your spren has voiced his willingness to try to find the Sword. I would like to ask whether you too are willing."
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Post by Lylyss on Jun 9, 2016 10:54:51 GMT
The moment Jove had chosen to attack the imperial coinage was the moment where the Coinshot had released the coins to be able to fall. As they went flying into the crowd, the Coinshot pushed two clips to the ground in an attempt to catch himself. Still, the damage was done. The Coinshot's new arc launched him away from the crowd and toward the library, where he Pushed off a new anchor to fall lightly to the ground. He snatched a new set of coins from his pocket. With pinpoint accuracy, he fired them at the Thug, changing the angle of his Push slightly each time to ensure the Thug could not slip through.
The coins Ollin had pushed zipped back through the window toward her, punching new holes through the glass. Through the breaches in the stained glass a company of Coinshots and Lurchers, identifiable by their slow-burning steel and iron, guarded the windows. The man who had Pushed the coins back was tall and thin, dressed all in black. His hand was upraised.
Daradin groaned under his breath. "You don't even have a plan." He sat cross-legged on the ground and scratched a crude map in the hardened crem. It broke his fingernails but left marks anyway. "Right. Here's your village. Here are the Brazen Hills." An X in the middle of squiggly lines meant to denote hills. Hey, it was crem. "And here's Javavoh's camp." It was a good distance away…if Brune knew the proportions he had in mind. Across an entire battlefield, no less. He looked up at Brune. "But let's get one thing straight. You are not walking into that camp with your sword drawn and fighting your way in. That would be utterly cr—stupid." Crazy was too much like the merchant. "Just think about it a moment. Eventually whatever luck and fate and destiny guided your blade back then is going to run out sometimes. Who know? Maybe the Nightwatcher put a curse on you that makes you unable to be killed by a Shardbearer." He laughed, but it was a hollow sound. "Well, there are plenty of men in that camp, and that Shardbearer is not going to be living on the outskirts. You'd be cut down shortly past the sentries, if even there."
Gali raised her eyebrows. "What do you think I am, a rusting Mistborn? I don't need atium." She pursed her lips. "Who provides atium to Urteau's Mistborn? If they have any besides the Inquisitors, that is?"
Raul left the table without another word and marched to his desk. Ideas and possibilities bounced around his head, and he'd have to work fast to get them all out before they escaped. Make a note to talk with Rivven once the others have gone.Jove swept his sword through the air. Ping! Ding! Ping! The coins bounced harmlessly off the blade. Such a feat was beyond the abilities of a normal man, but thankfully, pewter augmented one's speed as well as one strength. "Coward! Milksop! Poltroon! Any fool could toss a boxing, but a true man faces his foe in hand-to-hand combat." ______________ Ollin scowled, then Pushed gently on the clips. She didn't wasn't interested in a contest of strength. The black-clad Coinshot would have undoubtably won. Instead, she touched them at an angle, just enought to divert their course. Now for a counter attack. Stoking her reserves of Brass and Zinc, Ollin gave her adversaries a rude jerk on their emotions. Such mental attacks were comparable to yanking the reins on a horse. While professional Allomancers were bound to recognize the hand of a Soother, it should still be jarring, especially if they thought she was a Coinshot. Ollin had revealed herself as a Mistborn by using three metals. Let's make it four.
She blazed Iron, caught hold of a metal doorknob on the street outside, and Pulled herself (and hopefully Nathin) through the shattered window. As she fell, a small, whispering thought crept into her mind. Where is Jove? And Daub? Hopefully the children had found a safer way to escape. ______________ "That would be House Beauclaire," Kell said hesitantly. "They're very exclusive. They don't sell to everyone." ((EDIT: Gahh. Just realized that I forgot Brune. xP I'll have to add him later, since it's almost 11 here.)) Calden raised an eyebrow slightly. "I hadn't even been considering them, so there's no need to worry about that." ((Some of you have probably seen this already, but starting tomorrow, I'll be on a two-week internet hiatus. Try not to explode anything without me, please. That goes for all the threads, not just this one. xD)) "Just thought I'd mention it." He shrugged. "I like the Ventures." Rivven shook his head. "No, scratch that--I like the idea of impersonating them to serve our own dubious purposes. Don't they have a couple of fourth-cousins? Or was it fifth-cousins-twice-removed?"
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Post by jliessa44 on Jun 9, 2016 20:55:03 GMT
"They have a few of both." Beck answered with a smile tinged with amusement.
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Post by Leilani Sunblade on Jun 10, 2016 19:58:08 GMT
((Ah, lovely. A thread which didn't have three million replies while I was gone.)) Kisma looked at Zahi; Zahi coiled and uncoiled himself around the arm of the chair. "I can try. But it will not be easy. Distance is distance even in Shadesmar. Even for spren. The Knight's spren would not be far from the tomb, I do not think. And many of the spren who bonded Knights before the Recreance were . . ." He trailed off momentarily, as if uncertain of the word to use. "Were broken." "Broken?" Kisma echoed, frowning slightly. "Broken how?" Zahi remained silent, winding himself back and forth along the chair arm as if pacing, and Kisma sighed, knowing no amount of prying would get further details from him right now. Jeroam watched the spren, his expression displaying interest, but when Zahi fell silent, he sighed and covered the expression with distaste. "I cannot answer your question to the spren, as my studies have not covered how a spren can die." He flexed his fingers, popping the knuckles. "I too am interested in how spren are broken. And how they can be fixed." He clasped his hands behind his back. "Your spren has voiced his willingness to try to find the Sword. I would like to ask whether you too are willing." Was she? Kisma sat back, considering. Until now, she'd been too caught up in the question, the mystery, the excitement, to really think about whether or not she was willing to look. What do I have to lose? Nothing- but did she want another Shard in the hands of this man and his superiors? Was that safe, giving a weapon to those who were technically her enemies? That assumes it's there. If it's not, no harm done. If it is . . . Well, it would take time. Time enough for her to judge whether or not another Shardblade in Jeroam's hands was a bad idea, time enough to make a plan to make sure it didn't get in his hands if necessary. And if I refuse now, he'll likely become angry. "I'm willing." "Just thought I'd mention it." He shrugged. Calden raised an eyebrow slightly. "I hadn't even been considering them, so there's no need to worry about that." ((Some of you have probably seen this already, but starting tomorrow, I'll be on a two-week internet hiatus. Try not to explode anything without me, please. That goes for all the threads, not just this one. xD)) "Just thought I'd mention it." He shrugged. "I like the Ventures." Rivven shook his head. "No, scratch that--I like the idea of impersonating them to serve our own dubious purposes. Don't they have a couple of fourth-cousins? Or was it fifth-cousins-twice-removed?" "They have a few of both." Beck answered with a smile tinged with amusement. Calden hid his own amusement at Rivven's words. "The Ventures it is. If I recall correctly, some of the fourth-cousins would be useful for our purposes."
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Post by Dmitri Pendragon on Jun 13, 2016 7:28:49 GMT
Jove swept his sword through the air. Ping! Ding! Ping! The coins bounced harmlessly off the blade. Such a feat was beyond the abilities of a normal man, but thankfully, pewter augmented one's speed as well as one strength. "Coward! Milksop! Poltroon! Any fool could toss a boxing, but a true man faces his foe in hand-to-hand combat." ______________ Ollin scowled, then Pushed gently on the clips. She wasn't interested in a contest of strength. The black-clad Coinshot would have undoubtably won. Instead, she touched them at an angle, just enought to divert their course. Now for a counter attack. Stoking her reserves of Brass and Zinc, Ollin gave her adversaries a rude jerk on their emotions. Such mental attacks were comparable to yanking the reins on a horse. While professional Allomancers were bound to recognize the hand of a Soother, it should still be jarring, especially if they thought she was a Coinshot. Ollin had revealed herself as a Mistborn by using three metals. Let's make it four.
She blazed Iron, caught hold of a metal doorknob on the street outside, and Pulled herself (and hopefully Nathin) through the shattered window. As she fell, a small, whispering thought crept into her mind. Where is Jove? And Daub? Hopefully the children had found a safer way to escape. ______________ "That would be House Beauclaire," Kell said hesitantly. "They're very exclusive. They don't sell to everyone." Gali rubbed her palms together, shedding flakes of ash. "Are there any Mistborn in the city who absolutely hate you? I'm wondering whether I could get ReMuur on credit, have him impersonate the Mistborn, and buy atium from the Beauclaires. Alternatively I could just steal some from either faction." She shrugged. "Depends on the people I have available for ReMuur."
As the Coinshots jerked under the force of Ollin's emotional Allomancy, the black-clad Allomancer's steel pulses vanished from Ollin's senses. He Pulled on the same doorknob as Ollin, reaching the doorway first because of his closer proximity. As if intuiting Ollin's moves, he then Pushed away from the door, launching himself directly toward the fellow Mistborn.
Out of Jove's range, the Coinshot bared his teeth in a kind of grin. "Spoken like a true Thug." He crouched and snatched up two coins from the ground, remnants of the duel. One he tossed over his shoulder, Pushing it until it hit the wall of the library. The other he pointed in Jove's direction. "Drop the weapon and leave, and I'll let you live. No need to enter this place." Was she? Kisma sat back, considering. Until now, she'd been too caught up in the question, the mystery, the excitement, to really think about whether or not she was willing to look. What do I have to lose? Nothing- but did she want another Shard in the hands of this man and his superiors? Was that safe, giving a weapon to those who were technically her enemies? That assumes it's there. If it's not, no harm done. If it is . . . Well, it would take time. Time enough for her to judge whether or not another Shardblade in Jeroam's hands was a bad idea, time enough to make a plan to make sure it didn't get in his hands if necessary. And if I refuse now, he'll likely become angry. "I'm willing." "Thank you." The words were as close to genuine as Jeroam had come. "We will leave in the morning. You may be dismissed if you would prefer to leave my company. I am aware of my physical habits and how they make for relational difficulties."
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Post by Leilani Sunblade on Jun 14, 2016 1:20:29 GMT
Was she? Kisma sat back, considering. Until now, she'd been too caught up in the question, the mystery, the excitement, to really think about whether or not she was willing to look. What do I have to lose? Nothing- but did she want another Shard in the hands of this man and his superiors? Was that safe, giving a weapon to those who were technically her enemies? That assumes it's there. If it's not, no harm done. If it is . . . Well, it would take time. Time enough for her to judge whether or not another Shardblade in Jeroam's hands was a bad idea, time enough to make a plan to make sure it didn't get in his hands if necessary. And if I refuse now, he'll likely become angry. "I'm willing." "Thank you." The words were as close to genuine as Jeroam had come. "We will leave in the morning. You may be dismissed if you would prefer to leave my company. I am aware of my physical habits and how they make for relational difficulties." "Yes, I would prefer to go, thank you." Kisma stood. "I believe that I have a considerable amount of thinking to do." And a good deal of demanding explanations from a probably-uncooperative spren, but he didn't need to know that- and if he did, he could probably guess. "Good evening, brightlord." With a swift, bobbing curtsy, she slipped out of the room, through the halls, and back to her tent. ~ Once in her tent, she shut herself in the bedroom, dropped onto the bed, and gave Zahi a hard look. "So. Radiants. Were you going to tell me about any of this at some point." She kept her voice low; she'd told Edesa that she was going to bed and wouldn't need anything anytime soon, but one couldn't be too careful. Zahi grew his way up the wall, leaving a trail of crumbling crystals behind. "Yes. No. I don't know. I didn't remember." "That's convenient." Kisma picked at her bootlaces. "I still want to know why me." "You were chosen." Zahi reached the wall above the bed and stopped, forming a proper face once more. "For who you are. Who you will be." "Who I will be." The laces, freed from their knots, drooped, and Kisma kicked off one boot, then the other, a bit more forcefully than might've been necessary. "And was I to be given a choice in who that is?" "You have a choice. More of a choice than you would've otherwise. Speak the Oaths. Or don't speak the Oaths." "And if I don't?" Kisma turned to face him. "What happens to you?" No answer came. Kisma wasn't sure if he didn't know or if he did and didn't want to say. At this point, she wouldn't be surprised at either. ((As a note: I don't know what you had planned; I'm fine with a timeskip if you want to do that or with waiting if you're concerned about Brune and Daradin's part of the story falling behind too much. Either way.))
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Post by jliessa44 on Jun 21, 2016 3:18:28 GMT
Mil ventured back out into the common area, having escaped from Dev's clutches.
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Post by Lylyss on Jun 22, 2016 20:44:21 GMT
"They have a few of both." Beck answered with a smile tinged with amusement. Calden hid his own amusement at Rivven's words. "The Ventures it is. If I recall correctly, some of the fourth-cousins would be useful for our purposes." "Spiffing." Rivven smiled. "I'll leave the details of name and personality up to you two--shouldn't take very long. The ball at House Seldon will be in about three days." Gali rubbed her palms together, shedding flakes of ash. "Are there any Mistborn in the city who absolutely hate you? I'm wondering whether I could get ReMuur on credit, have him impersonate the Mistborn, and buy atium from the Beauclaires. Alternatively I could just steal some from either faction." She shrugged. "Depends on the people I have available for ReMuur."
As the Coinshots jerked under the force of Ollin's emotional Allomancy, the black-clad Allomancer's steel pulses vanished from Ollin's senses. He Pulled on the same doorknob as Ollin, reaching the doorway first because of his closer proximity. As if intuiting Ollin's moves, he then Pushed away from the door, launching himself directly toward the fellow Mistborn.
Out of Jove's range, the Coinshot bared his teeth in a kind of grin. "Spoken like a true Thug." He crouched and snatched up two coins from the ground, remnants of the duel. One he tossed over his shoulder, Pushing it until it hit the wall of the library. The other he pointed in Jove's direction. "Drop the weapon and leave, and I'll let you live. No need to enter this place." "Mistborn that hate me? Oh, of course! Let's kill Ignatius. Or Millam. Or Lollia. Or Anderin. Dear me, it's so hard to choose one... I suppose Ignatius would be the easiest to impersonate." Kell seemed a little too excited by the prospect of feeding his enemies to a kandra. "Can we go ahead and attack, or would you like to meet ReMuur first?" ______________________ Another Mistborn. Oh dear. Ollin released the doorknob. Instead, she Pulled upon an iron grate, which lay directly below her on the street. This sent her plummetting down--safely out of the enemy's trajectory. She hit the sidewalk and immediately burned steel. A handful of coins flew out of her fist, whistling toward the black-clad Mistborn as he passed overhead. Now, run.She reached into her Pewter reserves and dashed down the street. ______________________ "On the contrary. I have great need to enter this place! Therein lies the rusting skaa woman and worthless Terrisman, both whom I hate with lordly rage." Jove struck an opening stance, blade extended. "It is you who must drop your weapons. Clasp my knees in supplication, and upon my honor as a gentleman, I swear that no harm shall come to you." ______________________ ((EDIT)) "Nightwatcher. Heh. Good one." Brune laughed as well, a perfect ha ha ha that only stressed his discomfort. "Don't worry, I didn't intend to walk into the camp and start swinging. I was thinking... espionage. You know. Dress up as enlisted soldiers and sneak into camp. Wait until the Brightlord has dismissed his blade and removed his armor--then wham! Surprise attack! He's dead! He's gone! We win!" He smacked a fist into his hand to emphasize the point. "Then it's just a matter of finding Kisma and dashing outta there." ((I'm assuming Brune knows Kisma's name, seeing as they lived in the same small village.))
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Post by Dmitri Pendragon on Jun 23, 2016 8:26:22 GMT
"Yes, I would prefer to go, thank you." Kisma stood. "I believe that I have a considerable amount of thinking to do." And a good deal of demanding explanations from a probably-uncooperative spren, but he didn't need to know that- and if he did, he could probably guess. "Good evening, brightlord." With a swift, bobbing curtsy, she slipped out of the room, through the halls, and back to her tent. ~ Once in her tent, she shut herself in the bedroom, dropped onto the bed, and gave Zahi a hard look. "So. Radiants. Were you going to tell me about any of this at some point." She kept her voice low; she'd told Edesa that she was going to bed and wouldn't need anything anytime soon, but one couldn't be too careful. Zahi grew his way up the wall, leaving a trail of crumbling crystals behind. "Yes. No. I don't know. I didn't remember." "That's convenient." Kisma picked at her bootlaces. "I still want to know why me." "You were chosen." Zahi reached the wall above the bed and stopped, forming a proper face once more. "For who you are. Who you will be." "Who I will be." The laces, freed from their knots, drooped, and Kisma kicked off one boot, then the other, a bit more forcefully than might've been necessary. "And was I to be given a choice in who that is?" "You have a choice. More of a choice than you would've otherwise. Speak the Oaths. Or don't speak the Oaths." "And if I don't?" Kisma turned to face him. "What happens to you?" No answer came. Kisma wasn't sure if he didn't know or if he did and didn't want to say. At this point, she wouldn't be surprised at either. ((As a note: I don't know what you had planned; I'm fine with a timeskip if you want to do that or with waiting if you're concerned about Brune and Daradin's part of the story falling behind too much. Either way.)) (( Leilani Sunblade : Yeah, I'd hoped to give Brune and Daradin a chance to slip into the camp. I don't know how to fill in the blanks, though, while they do their planning and get there.)) Gali rubbed her palms together, shedding flakes of ash. "Are there any Mistborn in the city who absolutely hate you? I'm wondering whether I could get ReMuur on credit, have him impersonate the Mistborn, and buy atium from the Beauclaires. Alternatively I could just steal some from either faction." She shrugged. "Depends on the people I have available for ReMuur."
As the Coinshots jerked under the force of Ollin's emotional Allomancy, the black-clad Allomancer's steel pulses vanished from Ollin's senses. He Pulled on the same doorknob as Ollin, reaching the doorway first because of his closer proximity. As if intuiting Ollin's moves, he then Pushed away from the door, launching himself directly toward the fellow Mistborn.
Out of Jove's range, the Coinshot bared his teeth in a kind of grin. "Spoken like a true Thug." He crouched and snatched up two coins from the ground, remnants of the duel. One he tossed over his shoulder, Pushing it until it hit the wall of the library. The other he pointed in Jove's direction. "Drop the weapon and leave, and I'll let you live. No need to enter this place." "Mistborn that hate me? Oh, of course! Let's kill Ignatius. Or Millam. Or Lollia. Or Anderin. Dear me, it's so hard to choose one... I suppose Ignatius would be the easiest to impersonate." Kell seemed a little too excited by the prospect of feeding his enemies to a kandra. "Can we go ahead and attack, or would you like to meet ReMuur first?" ______________________ Another Mistborn. Oh dear. Ollin released the doorknob. Instead, she Pulled upon an iron grate, which lay directly below her on the street. This sent her plummetting down--safely out of the enemy's trajectory. She hit the sidewalk and immediately burned steel. A handful of coins flew out of her fist, whistling toward the black-clad Mistborn as he passed overhead. Now, run.She reached into her Pewter reserves and dashed down the street. ______________________ "On the contrary. I have great need to enter this place! Therein lies the rusting skaa woman and worthless Terrisman, both whom I hate with lordly rage." Jove struck an opening stance, blade extended. "It is you who must drop your weapons. Clasp my knees in supplication, and upon my honor as a gentleman, I swear that no harm shall come to you." Gali mouthed the four names. "You have four Mistborn in Urteau? Impressive." She sat back against the bed. "Which House is Ignatius from? I guess we'd want to pick a Mistborn who's from a House we don't need for the assassinations. And I think it would be best to find ReMuur first. Just so…we know that he'll take atium on credit."
Nathin landed next to Ollin with bent knees and followed her down the street, his pace long and quick but slightly slower than her pewter-imbued speed. The Mistborn Pushed on the coins, slowing their trajectories, and Pulled a few of them to himself. He caught a handful, rushed to the iron grate Ollin had used, and Pushed himself into the air, arcing high in the air after Ollin. The coins zipped from his hands, targeting Ollin and Nathin.
The Coinshot burned steel, Pushing on the coin behind him. With the wall supporting the coin, the Coinshot suddenly gained tremendous weight. Simultaneously he Pushed on the coin in his hand, launching it far faster and far harder than any of the coins he'd used in the fight with Jove. ((And yes, that is a legitimate use of Allomancy.)) "I had a feeling you would have a plan like that." Daradin waved a finger at Brune. "Not a good feeling, mind you. I have a much better idea. You ever heard of camp followers? Like, the people who sell food and supplies and slightly more perverse things to the soldiers? You're a merchant. Bring a stock of your pots and pans, and we can sell our way into the camp."
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Post by Leilani Sunblade on Jun 27, 2016 0:43:57 GMT
(( Dmitri Pendragon : Yeah . . . I'm not sure either, particularly as Brune and Daradin are already at least a few hours- possibly closer to half a day- behind. I guess that we could just hold off on Kisma and Jeroam until Brune and Daradin catch up? Unless either of us comes up with something to fill the space?)) (( Lylyss: Yes, Brune knowing Kisma's name sounds reasonable.)) Mil ventured back out into the common area, having escaped from Dev's clutches. Westing was not in the common room when Mil entered. Tally, however, was, with one eye on Beck, Rivven, and Calden. She switched her attention to Mil when she entered. "'Lo. Looking for Wes?" "They have a few of both." Beck answered with a smile tinged with amusement. Calden hid his own amusement at Rivven's words. "The Ventures it is. If I recall correctly, some of the fourth-cousins would be useful for our purposes." "Spiffing." Rivven smiled. "I'll leave the details of name and personality up to you two--shouldn't take very long. The ball at House Seldon will be in about three days." Three days. That wasn't long to prepare. But it would have to be enough. "Good." Calden turned to Beck. "I have a fairly good idea of who we could play- if you want to come with me, I'll check my information and we can work out the details."
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Post by jliessa44 on Jun 27, 2016 3:14:51 GMT
"If he was free." She shrugged. "Mostly I was escaping my brother." ---- "That sounds fine." Beck nodded, resisting the urge to do some emotional fine tuning.
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Post by Leilani Sunblade on Jul 2, 2016 22:14:33 GMT
(( jliessa44: Sorry for the wait. Work keeps me busy, and then I forgot I needed to reply. )) ((Also, because I'm not totally clear on the subject: is the safehouse they're currently in/using the same as or different from the safehouse that Calden keeps/runs/whatever the correct verb is? Because at first I thought it wasn't- that they were meeting at a more neutral location. But if it's the safehouse they're planning to use the whole time, I'm not quite sure why they wouldn't be using Calden's safehouse? But yeah, I'm confused and it's probably a stupid little thing that doesn't really matter but my brain is refusing to fully cooperate until I've gotten it figured out. )) Tally made a noise that said she understood needing to escape brothers. "He's down in the training room, pummeling a dummy or something. If you want him." <i>If you don't, that's fine too.</i>
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