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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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Syndall's Content

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#2671879 Syndall

Posted by Syndall on 08 September 2010 - 02:35 AM in Retired Characters

Ex-Breeder, Unknowing Feruchemist

Player Information
Handle : Silus
Contact : [email protected]
PM here, 17th Shard as Silus - Shard of Flame, TWG as Fireborn

Character Information
Name: Sydall
Age: 17
Type: Terrisman
Gender: Female
Occupation: None, seeks to join the skaa rebellion
Marital Status: Single

Type of Powers: Feruchemy
Metals Used: A brass necklace with a small gold bead
Degree of Skill: Is not aware of her abilities, when she figures it out, she'll be a Beginner

Hair: Close cropped red brown hair with a slight curl coming down just below her ears
Eyes: Hazel, with a small speck of blood red in her right eye, filled with mischievous intent
Height: 5'11"
Weight: Her height makes her heavy for a woman, but her build is very thin
Voice: Slightly higher than average, but not squeaky or particularly vibrant, very clear
Overall Appearance: Since escaping the breeding program, Syndall has adopted a more masculine style of dress in order to blend in more, also as a rebellion against her past, this is assisted by her height as a Terriswoman. She tends to wear suspenders over a simple short sleeved shirt and trousers.

Special Skills: Knows how to cook and clean, read and write, and is fairly well studied in the sciences and mathematics.
Strengths: After a few months training, Syndall has quickly picked up a basic grasp of swordsmanship and knows how to handle herself in a fight. She's not a soldier, but she'd rather wrestle a mistwraith than let herself be done in by any random thug. She has a high tolerance for pain and can outlast almost anyone not using Allomancy in a contest of will and raw endurance.
Weaknesses: She has no sense of subtlety and only a tenuous knowledge of tact and propriety. She cares too much, driving herself to do whatever she chooses beyond what is good for her.

Syndall is not fragile, and she hates how everyone treats her like she's made of glass. If anything the trials of her past have made her strong enough to handle almost anything thrown at her. And she'd fight an Inquisitor with her hands behind her back before admitting to any weakness.

She has rather strange views of romance. Sex means nothing to her, it's just something you do. She hides herself behind her bluster, not letting anyone get emotionally close, but that might change.

She is outspoken, and often says what comes to mind without thinking. Awkward pauses barely register to her and she'll just roll her eyes to being told her comment was out of turn. Her wit and logic make it even more difficult to clarify things to her. She has a bubbling brew of sarcasm ready to be employed at every turn.

The only thing more obstinate than her tongue is her determination, which will push her to do anything she sets her mind to. She is stubborn to the point of blindness toward anything outside of her goal.

But sometimes, when no one is watching, she'll sit and stare at nothing, her mind slowly numbing. It is during these times that she'll sometimes feel a warmth billow through her, warding off that chilling numbness. But she still cries at night. Because of that one thing she missed, the one thing that drove her on, her goal. Her children. She would find them, she had to.

Syndall never knew her parents. Sometimes this bothered her, sometimes not. But she had enough to worry about that this was never at the forefront of her thoughts. Trying to absorb the lessons taught by the obligators was tough enough.

She soaked up the words, the knowledge. She might as well, there wasn't much else to do. It never made a lot of sense to her why they taught her these things if she was to likely spend her entire life bearing children until it killed her. A morbid thought, but she had heard it enough times that she simply assumed that was what would happen to her.

Growing up a Breeder wasn't especially different to living in a boarding school run by obligators. Well, until you were considered old enough to bear children.

That day was a shock. She had been spindly enough to not be considered healthy enough until she was fifteen. She had assumed the day would never come. But come it did, and she took it with as much grace as possible. That didn't lessen how awkward it was for her, and for her breeding partners. The Terrismen she met with had become jaded to the whole process, just as she became. She didn't get the chance to know any of them particularly well, she only met each one once.

But it didn't last long. Only three months and she was pregnant. And nine months later she gave birth to a boy. She never saw him.

They were lenient, the first time at least. They gave her a full two months to recover before putting her back in the program. Three months there, and at sixteen, she was pregnant again.

A girl this time. Again, she wasn't allowed to see the child. It was her seventeenth birthday.

She was back in the program. But something changed this time.

One day she was in her room, doing her morning chores in preparation for the day. She heard a scream from the hallway, one of the guards hollering in pain. Feet pounding down the hall. More pained shouts and panicked cries. Terrified, she backed into a corner of her room. A click came from the door and a young man, not much older seeming than her, with bright blond hair and a long, trailing scarf came in.

"Do you want to leave this place?" he asked. She nodded. He walked over to her and took her by the hand, "Then come with me."

Escape. She had never thought it possible, yet here it was in the form of this man who stood with the air of a man twice his size, confident of his own strength. They fled south, to Luthadel, where, hopefully, the sheer size of the place and amount of people would allow them to hide.

She cast her past aside, cutting off her long hair, dressing in masculine clothes that she had never been allowed to wear. Her only attachment was to her rescuer and his strange, possibly suicidal vendetta against the Steel Inquisitors. What a curious man he is.

She follows him, hoping against all hope to find something, anything, that could lead them to her missing children.

Roleplay Sample

Six Months Ago

Syndall clicked the door closed behind her. The weak scent of melting wax came from the few candles illuminating the desk on the other side of the room. The low light suited her just fine, but she wondered how Coron could read with such little light. She stepped toward him, holding her robe.

He turned with a small start and looked at her, "You cut your hair."

"No, it simply fell off and walked away," she said, her typical sarcasm sprinkling her words.

Not responding to her attempt at humor, he turned back to the desk and the records there. She sighed, sitting on the side of the bed behind him, letting her robe drop.

"There are some strange inconsistencies here, these reports are missing some crucial details," he said, not looking away from his reading.

"Honestly, Coron, you've been poring over those things all day," Syndall said, rolling her eyes, "Wouldn't it be a good idea to just relax?"

He turned, looking as if he was about to say something, but stopped. He yelped, leaping out of the chair, putting a hand over his eyes, "Why, uh, aren't you dressed?"

She didn't know what he was so upset over, "I thought you might want to unwind with me. You just seemed so uptight. It'll do you some good."

He peeked from between his fingers, then rapidly shut his eyes again, shuffling slightly backwards, "We-we've known each other less than a week! It hardly seems, well, appropriate."

Syndall narrowed her eyes in a frown. She stood and walked closer to him, the warm air felt good against her skin. "Why should that matter? It's not like we're nobles or something, we hardly have to worry about propriety in our current situation."

"Propriety is something that should be kept whenever possible. That's what my mother taught me," he said, scooting back until he knocked into the chest of drawers.

She stood right in front of him now, her smiling lips a fingerbreadth from his ear, "So?"

He tensed slightly from her closeness. Then, in one swift motion, gripped her by the shoulders and moved her away from him. What?


"Well, why not?" she was baffled, "Am I not pretty enough for you?"

"Yes. No. Oh, I don't know!" he said, sitting behind her on the bed, head bent, massaging his temples.

"Then why not test the waters some, hmm?" she whispered, moving beside him, putting an arm behind his back. He flinched slightly, but didn't pull away. "You might as well try."

He looked at her, indecision in his eyes. "I don't know what this means to you, but this means something to me. I want something...like this, to be special. Not some kind of random pastime."

"Well, if you see it that way, fine," Syndall replied. She stood and picked up her robe, drawing it around her again. Her cheeks burned. "But just know that I am a stubborn woman. And I don't give up on what I want."

He looked up at her, his eyebrows drawn up in surprise. But she didn't care. At least, she didn't think she did. She turned and left, not bothering to close the door behind her.