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The Lord Ruler's perfect capital city, Luthadel, is doing the impossible: rebelling. Skaa half-breeds are being taught the power of Allomancy, something that the Lord Ruler's obligators said only existed in the nobility. The enslaved skaa, with their murderous benefactor, now fight back against a living god's oppression.

So, the Inquisition was formed. The nobles begin to fear assassination from all sides. The times of nobility Mistborn killing each other are over. The Steel Inquisitors look for aristocrat traitors and insurgent skaa, and the skaa try with all their strength to merely survive. The Lord Ruler's perfect Final Empire is slowly devolving into chaos.

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#2954926 The Casuana Ball, Part III: Fire and Madness

Posted by OreSanjou on 01 October 2011 - 12:55 AM in Keeps

Father be praised, the night was becoming fascinating at long last.

Escorting the nobles about the keep's exterior had been a mild frustration, true, but the briefest of moments in the presence of Marisha Nathar's most succulent of aromas had mitigated the irritation and then some. Accompanying their little group of pampered adult-children back inside had only been agreed to both to perpetuate the role of a good soldier, and to stay in close proximity that much longer.

It had not been without merit, however. While pinpointing the exact source had been nigh impossible with all the mingling emanations even for his nose, one of the involved nobles was hiding a very, very interesting secret. Served alongside the knowledge of the infantile Nerid's identity, his master would have a fine feast of delectable information. And when his praise reached the attention of the Homeland, those fools at home would be forced to acknowledge him.

But it would appear the evening had yet more in store for him! Once done with the droll duty of escorting, OreSanjou had been free to move about the keep with relative anonymity and without scrutiny. A guard patrolling the keep was not out of place in the least, after all, especially on the night of a ball.

Said ball had been nothing short of painfully dreary, everything he loathed about the noble caste in one massive display of opulence. Dozens upon dozens of self-important figures posturing for stature, attempting to glean whatever leverage they could over their peers. They had everything but knives at each others backs..

...and rapiers at each others fronts, it would seem. The duel was not out of place, though its exact conditions did appear a bit unorthodox. In the end, however, the exchange of blows both physical and verbal failed to be worth his interest, though had afforded a few meager wisps of panic from the audience as their favored contender seemed to near defeat. Caden Hasting was particularly vulnerable to psychological attacks, that much was worth noting. It could prove useful at a later date.

Leaving the realm of frilled shirts and extravagant dresses behind, Ore delved deeper into the keep, seeking some great secret to uncover (or perhaps a lone skaa to terrorize). In his purposeful wanderings, the scent of smoke began to assault his nose like a thousand tiny daggers, and he made his way into the kitchens to see what poor fool would no doubt lose their hide for singing some noble's dinner.

But the kitchens were barely staffed, a paltry handful of skaa scurrying about. There was no excuse for such a small crew on the night of a ball. The overgrown brats upstairs ate whenever the whim took them, so the kitchen needed to be ready on a moment's notice to satisfy their desires, and yet barely a handful was present. And the scent of smoke did not originate from the area, as well. Had the kitchens been evacuated for some reason?

Smoke meant fire, of course, and if not in the kitchens, something was very amiss in the keep. Were the whispers of rebellion true? Was Casuana under attack from the skaa? Had they warned their brethren somehow beforehand, explaining the lackluster cooking staff?

As he moved to dig deeper, the kandra could see people beginning to move quite rapidly through hallways, and the smoke's acrid presence grew stronger by the moment. Mingled throughout it was a wonderful note of panic, rich and pungent. He felt...giddy. Was that the appropriate moniker for the sensation? It hardly mattered.

As noble, skaa, and steward alike absconded through the keep like rats, he heard the mutterings of an attack, a bold skaa mistborn demanding the attention of the Inquisitor. Perhaps, if he could get close enough...no. He was a guard. He had a duty to the people to feign.

Toothy, wide grin hidden beneath his helmet, he rounded a corner, running headlong towards a mass of people. "FIRE! FIRE! THE KEEP IS UNDER ATTACK!! NOT THIS WAY, GET TO SAFETY!!" By now, the torch he had pressed into a random tapestry in the empty hall behind him should have been emitting a pleasant, supporting glow, and as he watched the mass begin to scramble back over itself in panic, he chuckled quietly before rounding another corner and heading for the basement.

Let us see what other rats we can find..

#2908117 The Casuana Ball, Part II: Serenity and Steel

Posted by OreSanjou on 19 March 2011 - 09:47 PM in Keeps

Blessed movement at last. What in the Final Empire had taken those foolish...


They had paused so long to fix the woman's makeup?! Of all the preposterous, asinine, tremendous wastes of time! Only a noble would be so obsessed with keeping face in a situation of social graces.

OreSanjou was fed up. Interesting information had been gleaned, but this night had been a colossal waste of his talents from the start. Now? Now he was just furious. It was time to collect his due.

Beneath the skin, hidden by that allomantic deathtrap called 'armor', muscles and sinew shifted, reshaping. A connection here, a rotation there. It was done in an instant, and he made as if to look around the area, ever a vigilant guard. When his face was masked in shadow, the new shaping went to work, muscles twitched and plucked at an altered voicebox like a harp as he exhaled through a hardened esophagus.


It was a sharp, frigid, and hollow sound that shattered the silence of the mistcloaked night, reverberating off the stone walls into a chilling echo. A master Tineye might have been able to trace the sound back to its source, but he saw nothing of the sort amongst the fools here.

He jumped as if reacting to the sound, as any good soldier should, head whipping about as he backed towards the group of noblewomen with hilt at hand. "Blood and ashes, what was THAT?!" He murmured beneath his breath.

He was close enough now, surely. Nostrils flared beneath his helmet, drawing in what he sought with a slow, deep breath.

Thick.....caustic....a choking, noxious cloud of agonizingly spectacular fear. It hung heavy around her like a mantle, slightly aged but barely diluted by the night breeze and movement, he dared not dream what it was like fresh, lest he lose himself completely. Something was suppressing her production of the glorious draught, no doubt the mistborn woman. Accursed wench.

Still. Things would be interesting... for a moment, at least.

#2867428 The Casuana Ball, Part II: Serenity and Steel

Posted by OreSanjou on 05 February 2011 - 06:17 AM in Keeps

"Is that so, my lord? I shall have to keep that in mind for the next time either is present upon these grounds." OreSanjou allowed himself a reserved chortle to appropriately accompany Lord Elariel's. His guard was raising, the scent stemming from him gaining complexity and body. Clearly he had not been cautious enough, the lordling was suspicious. How best to dissuade that, though..

"Thank you for your words, my lord, you are too kind. I try to keep my eyes on as much as possible, even on nights like tonight. I may be but a guardsman, but if I can see something another may have missed or overlooked, that information could save a life. What if Lady Nathar had run off in a ruse, to meet with someone in secret here? Be it for personal benefit or perhaps by blackmail, our arrival here could have been quite disastrous under such a circumstance."

He paused for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts, taking the opportunity to scan the area as he should, lingering his gaze across the gazebo as if to ensure there was no one in the proximity of it who had not originally been there. "I make no presumptions of present company, of course. But my ears have heard things of what occur in noble circles, and it always seemed to me that there was no such thing as being too overcautious. Forgive me if my words or behavior have offended you, Lord Elariel."

#2866920 The Casuana Ball, Part II: Serenity and Steel

Posted by OreSanjou on 04 February 2011 - 07:58 PM in Keeps

"No, my lord, thankfully not. It has been...an interesting evening to say the least." OreSanjou replied as stiffly as he could, posture snapping a little straighter as the nobleman approached. "I am merely glad we were able to find the Lady Nathar before anything unsavory might have befallen her."

On one hand, it was annoying to have the lordling present, interrupting his mental reprieve. On another hand, the close proximity brought new highlight and definition to the insecurities drifting off him, which was quite enjoyable. And on another hand, it gave the kandra an opportunity to deflect a little concern. He had probably been watching a bit too closely, and there was no need to draw suspicion to himself already.

"All this murmuring about rebellion going on.." OreSanjou lowered his voice. Anyone using tin would no doubt hear him clear as a bell, but any further lowering would indicate he understood anything of Allomancy, and that would be unbecoming of a humble guardsman. "It's worrisome, my lord. Lord Ruler forbid, the last thing Lady Nathar seems to need tonight is an attack when she is in such a vulnerable mindset. A mighty good thing her brother approached first, hiding means she's afraid, and fear makes people irrational. Wouldn't do to have a noblewoman lashing out at one of her own in a panic."

#2866291 The Casuana Ball, Part II: Serenity and Steel

Posted by OreSanjou on 04 February 2011 - 02:54 AM in Keeps


Too much longer in such a dull fashion, and OreSanjou would have been forced to liven up the evening, perhaps casting his voice down an alley or into a tree. A sharp rasp to make them jump. Yes, that would have been delightful.

Still, he had a role to fulfill, and far be it from him to ruin a contract so early on. Information was desired, so information he would provide. The young Lord Elariel had become increasingly uncertain as their hunt went on. Though the guards had been instructed to keep a respectable distance, his keen nose could detect the whiffs of fear drifting off the nobleman's person.

It was...crisp, like fresh linen, with a sharpness that prickled the back of his throat. These were new fears, to be certain. Aaron Elariel's faith in himself had been shaken tonight. The master would be pleased with that little tidbit to be sure. Far more interesting, however, was the way Lady Demesne and Lord Nathar clung to one another. He was not quite certain who needed the other more, but there was something there that could be manipulated, most definitely. When the odd young lord rushed towards the gazebo to reunite with his sister, OreSanjou swore he could detect the faintest, most delectable little tuft of fear erupt from her.

But the Lady Nathar...oh how he longed to be close enough to that structure. Someone who had run off, had reason to hide from the world. Her fear would have been a rare, wonderful thing to partake of. He cursed the fool nobles who had ordered the guards to stay back. He shifted in the uncomfortable armor.

Long, spindly arms, like spider's legs with clawed ends. Bending in awkward directions around a pillar of the gazebo, raking lightly along her shoulders, tangling in her hair. He could practically hear her scream.

#2831856 The Casuana Ball, Part II: Serenity and Steel

Posted by OreSanjou on 03 January 2011 - 02:16 AM in Keeps

The lady Tekiel screamed...no...that was not quite right. Yes, a shrill shriek seemed far more appropriate for someone so calm and composed. Eyes as wide as saucers, skin paling visibly even beneath the layers of makeup. She would stagger backwards, tripping over the hem of the ridiculous garment the noblewomen insisted upon wearing.

The Lord Elariel would put on a brave face and move to shield the women as his cousin's cry resounded in the air, a chilling discord to Lady Tekiel's. But the terror would be strong, radiant in his eyes, brighter than all the stars in the sky melded as one. Nathar...Nathar.....sheer panic, yes, that was most fitting. The man...though he could hardly be called that...would lose composure quickest of all, perhaps even dropping to his knees and cowering.

Or would he jump to the aid of Demesne Mistborn? He was a bit hard to read in his simplicity. Something was clearly wrong with the lad, though, almost as curious as the manner with which the ludicrously-garbed woman treated him. The fact that he was, apparently, an allomancer could not be ignored either. It had been a pleasant surprise to see such a manchild burning metals just previously, and no doubt the master would be quite pleased with that morsel of information. That aside, though..

This was, without a doubt, the single most boring expanse of OreSanjou's lengthy existence. A prime example of why he abhorred the 'observe and report' type of contract. The guard had been easy enough to replace, it was not as if they lead complex lives to simulate, and his master's logic in placing him here, now, had been sound.

But following these nobles about, listening to their bickering and prattle....his fantasies were the only thing sustaining his sanity at this point. The only reason he had gone along with it was to save face, and because it staring at the mist and waiting for it to blink.

Standing tall and resolute in his armor, he made a show of scanning the mists again. All this for one woman. Nobles. The Lady Demesne accosted her 'companions' over something. Exactly what seemed trivial, but it had clearly made her hot under the nonexistent collar, the wild look in her eyes spoke that much.

The Lady Demesne.......she would not scream. She was a tormented soul, that much was written on her like ash on white. Her eyes would tremble, but she would keep a firm appearance...at least, until he found that one thing, that key to her inner demons.

And when that winecask of her fears was uncorked, it would be positively intoxicating. OreSanjou stifled a shiver, grinning beneath his helm.

What a dull night.

#2789917 OreSanjou

Posted by OreSanjou on 25 November 2010 - 07:35 AM in Kandra


Player Information
Handle :Mosh
Contact :primeape03(at)sbcglobal.net, AIM, PM, smoke signals, carrier pigeon.

Character Information
Name: OreSanjou
Age: 3rd Generation
Type: Kandra
Gender: Male
Blessing: Blessing of Potency

Hair: Prefers a fine, short cropping of black-as-night hair when left to his own choices. Of course, this widely varies as well depending on who he may be impersonating at the time.
Eyes: Rounded with an incredibly sharp gaze, he has yet to settle on a personal 'favorite' color.
Height: He prefers an average height, roughly around 5' 10"-11", not enough to stick out, but enough to be able to properly 'loom' when need be.
Weight: Roughly 140 lbs when applicable, he prefers to keep a lean, almost lanky build, belying the added power his Blessing has given him.
Voice: A deep, almost guttural rasp that has proven to be quite startling when first heard issue forth from his lips; exactly the reason he has kept it when not needing the voice of another.
Overall Appearance: OreSanjou is quite probably one of the most peculiar kandra of his or any current generation. He is often viewed with veiled to outright disdain for his chosen appearances, as his True Body is an ever-changing amalgam of stone, bone, and wood. In the Homeland, he is prone to concocting horrific skeletons to wear, lurking and skittering about on four legs one week, crawling along the ceiling with a dozen arms the next. When not given a specific body on contract, his appearance is that of a gaunt and eerie man, whose hungry gaze seems to pierce right through to a person's soul.

Special Skills: OreSanjou has trained himself in the great majority of any rudimentary skill he would require to successfully mimic any given individual: Reading, writing, mathematics, cooking, cleaning, etc. His absolute greatest skill is the level of mastery he has obtained with his form, his many decades of experimentation allowing him control no kandra his generation or younger could compare.
Strengths: OreSanjou excels at swiftly and accurately adopting new forms, and further altering them when need be, sometimes to radical extremes. Beyond that, his keen observational skills and cunning intellect allow him to smoothly integrate himself into a situation, getting inside the head of anyone he needs to with very little difficulty in most cases.
Weaknesses: He is an abysmal gardener, capable of killing off the sturdiest of plant-matter in record time, and as such strictly avoids any role that would require him to pass for one. He also has a terrible time resisting the urge to frighten someone when it would cause a scene. Quite probably his greatest weakness is that of his very nature. As a kandra, he has had little to fear in his own lifetime, and having never truly experienced fear himself has given OreSanjou a propensity for assuming himself invincible. After all, if one body breaks, there is always another.

OreSanjou's peculiarity as a kandra fully extends to his personality. Simply put, he as a fascination...an obsession with fear. To him, there is no greater sight in life than that of someone terrified beyond comprehension, completely beside themselves in horror. He goes to great lengths, sometimes taking years of careful manipulation, for that one exquisite moment of terror. No food is as fulfilling, no drink as quenching, for it is his sole belief that a living being is only truly itself when it is afraid, reduced to its barest thoughts and instincts.

They say you never forget your first. In OreSanjou's case, it was a servant girl of the House he was supposed to be infiltrating. It was his first real contract, and he had been attempting to adopt the new body as quickly as he could.

And then she walked in.

She was new, the room was supposed to be empty for hours yet, but she had gotten lost presumably..wandered into the wrong room. And there OreSanjou lay, a mess of hastily assembled muscle and tissues, organs pulsing away. The look in her eyes as her shrill cry pierced the air sent a chill down the spine that had just started to form.

And he was hooked. The poor girl hadn't lived much longer than the first few seconds of that scream, his contract holder saw to that, but decades later he had not forgotten that exquisite sound. Even now, centuries past, he still could recall every detail, every line on her face as it contorted in fright.

Thus began OreSanjou's lifelong love affair with fear. Contracts, and the bodies they entailed, came and went, fulfilled to the boring letter. Observe and report. Observe and report. Sabotage this deal, break apart this alliance. Each one brought with it, however, new opportunities to frighten, new minds to work out, dig deep to realize their greatest fears, and then give them form. It was wonderful experience for the shaping of bodies, and in merely a centuries time OreSanjou was the swiftest changer of his generation.

Disturbing. Revolting. Looks of scorn and disdain often accompanied such mutterings as he passed through the tunnels of the Homeland. He hardly cared for their words or glances. His True Body was a work of art, nearly seven feet tall, its six spindly wooden arms ending in stone claws, the elongated jaw glistening in the soft light with its jagged crystal teeth. The artisans had been intrigued by his requests, to say the least. He would have more for them, in time, also uncharacteristic of other kandra, but to him, they would be all too fitting.

A hundred years would pass, a dozen or so delightful frights scattered amongst them, before something truly fascinating would occur again, reigniting the passion OreSanjou possessed for inspiring horror. His contract had been a particularly dull one, as they all tended to be. Observe and report. The elderly man may have been the head of the House, but it had been the contract holder's hope that as the infirmities of age took hold, precious secrets could be extracted from him.

Much enjoyment had this elderly figure brought him. Glasses he did not need were worn when eyes would appear upon his trusted attendant where they should not be. Sleep became scarce as the hulking, monstrous shadows dissolved into that very same helper when the light cast the darkness aside, having rushed in with a lantern in worry for his master's nightmarish murmurings.

Infirmity did take its hold upon the old man, but by no fault of his age. The shadows of doubt and fear OreSanjou so deftly cast around him had slowly robbed him of the sharp mental faculties he had once claimed, and in the still of night precious secrets were gathered from a half-mad fool to his trusted aide for 'safe keeping'.

And then the skin upon the aide's face pulled back, jaw stretching into a maw of vicious teeth. For such an old man, he had surprisingly powerful lung. A true shame that his heart had been nowhere near as sturdy. The servant, ever loyal, had been the first to 'respond' to his master's horrified (and final) scream, running headlong into a guard in his frantic search for help. The healers said it had been his heart, no poison or foul play to be found.

The humble servant, lifelong trusted friend, was found weeks later, an immolated pile of bones atop his former master's grave. OreSanjou spent the next month instilling panic into the residents of the sootwarrens, no guard ever managing..or really caring..to find the monster that scraped along their doors at night. The secrets had been obtained and delivered, the contract fulfilled. After a bit of personal time, the Homeland beckoned, and he went dutifully, spending many a decade in the dark, honing his talents, waiting for his next contract, and the opportunities for fear-mongering it might bring.

Roleplay Sample

Tell me your wish. I will grant any wish, but in return, you must give me one thing... The statement had thrown Lord Sureau off guard, that much was easily seen in the man's eyes. OreSanjou refrained from grinning at the uncertainty the noble lord would no doubt be feeling at what sort of kandra he was forming a contract with. Granted, he was not like most other kandra, a point he had to make clear from the very beginning.

Mission accomplished, then..

It had been...quite pleasant to find such a suiting contracting waiting to be accepted. He had been unable to recall a single contract proposal he had actually wanted to undertake, so it promised to be a rare delight indeed. The Seconds had all but unanimously approved of him doing so, most likely to be free of him lurking about the Homeland for a while.

"So tell me, my Lord Sureau, what do you wish of me?" The voice was deep and raspy for the time being, as a voicebox was an easily manipulated thing, and his mouth stretched into an impossibly wide grin; with far too many pointed teeth at that. Oh yes, this was going to be a good contract indeed.