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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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A Far Too Quiet Morning

W1 D5 EM Perrin

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#1 Perrin

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Member of Lucille Deveaux's Book Club

Posted 16 July 2009 - 01:50 AM

The streets in the slums of Luthadel were still deserted. True, the dawn was only about an hour away and the mists were now beginning to fade, but that didn't change the fact that most all Skaa were extremely suspicious and superstitious. Stories of people's bodies being taken by mistwraiths, never to return, had had their effect on the poor beaten down and broken slave class after ten centuries.

Perrin liked the solitude that the night time offered, though. Being free to go wherever he wanted, and do almost anything that he wanted gave him such an incredible high sometimes. And yet, he never forgot that he was extremely lucky, and at times he considered himself unfairly lucky. While he had had his struggles in life, it had still been far better than any normal Skaa's was.

A light breeze moved the tassels of his mistcloak as he stood silently atop one of the many shacks on the street. Things had been oddly peacefuly the past few hours, and it was a little unsettling for Perrin. No night was complete without a disturbance of some kind. He checked his reserves of metals, noting that pewter was running a little low, so he downed a small vial of metals. He grinned at the now replenished source of power within him as he leaped off the building to the street below. Perrin landed in the layer of ash on the street with a muffled thump, and then stood straight.

He looked over his shoulder, then turned back to look ahead of him, trying to decide which direction to take before he called it quits for the night. Perrin took a coin out of his bag and flicked it up into the air, catching it swiftly as it descended back towards him. He opened his closed fist, looking at the coin. "Tails it is," he muttered quietly, and then turned around and began to walk down the narrow street.

Perhaps he would find something to do before the dawn arrived. Hopefully he had chosen the correct direction to walk.
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