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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.

Read the full prologue!

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Mistborn Series Brandon Sanderson
Allomantic Table, Symbols, and Cartography by Isaac Stewart
Luthadel Images: mking2008
Other Graphics: KChan at 17th Shard
Final Empire, Metallic Arts, and Style Guides by Chaos at 17th Shard
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Benevolence

Open W2 D1 MM The Lord Ruler Ashriel Deveaux

2 replies to this topic

#1 Ashriel Deveaux


  • The Lord Prelan

543
Monsterwraith
  • Age44

  • Relationship StatusWidower

  • OriginUrteau

Posted 30 March 2014 - 01:18 AM

Ash fell from the sky, and Ashriel contemplated life and death.

It was only a light dusting today, little flecks of black that danced here and there on the gentle breeze. It dotted the benches where the noblemen would soon be seated, floated in the waters of the fountain, and landed on the skaa in their cages. It fell on Ashriel too, but he ignored it, instead choosing to watch the tiny black flakes as they rode the wind, as though striving to remain airborne for as long as possible. It fought the inevitable, resisting as long as possible, but of course it all wound up on the ground - or somebody's head - soon enough.

No matter how it tries to fight, the ash must fall eventually, he mused. And just as the ash must fall, so too must all men meet their fate. In that, at least, we are no different from the skaa.

Of course, for the skaa across the square, the end would be coming much sooner than it would for Ashriel. He wondered if he should feel disturbed by the slight envy he felt at the thought.

"Your Grace?" asked a smooth, calm voice. "Are you sure you would not prefer an umbrella?"

That would be Charle Venture, Ashriel's personal aide. It still seemed ridiculous that he even had an aide, but the lad was pious and capable, and had proven to be useful enough. Perhaps he would find himself with a Prelan's tattoos soon.

"I am quite fine, thank you," he told the lad in his usual soft voice, but Charle didn't seem satisfied. "If it gets any worse, you may fetch the umbrella then. I'll not look a fool by letting you follow me around with an umbrella for a few flakes of ash."

"Of course, Your Grace."

His aide appeased, Ashriel returned his attention to the square before him, though he no longer felt quite in the mood for contemplating the nature of mortality. Though no noblemen had arrived yet, they would be soon, and it wouldn't do to be gazing off at random flakes of ash in front of all of Luthadel.

The dais where Ashriel stood, however, was getting more and more crowded by the moment as High Prelans arrived, surrounded by the functionaries who served as their personal staff. There was no sign of Gethen yet. Ashriel had not seen him since before he was deposed; Ashriel himself had thought the man dead until just recently, when the Lord Ruler saw fit to inform him otherwise. Now that he knew the truth, however, there was much he wished to discuss with his old friend. But that would have to wait, it seemed; it was nearly time for noble and skaa alike to arrive, and Inquisitors kept their own time.

Ashriel didn't think he would ever get used to thinking of Gethen as one of them.

With a sigh, Ashriel turned back to survey the crowd of obligators gathering on the dais. Even though he didn't feel like mingling, he could at least keep up appearances until the Lord Ruler arrived.

#2 Janus Tekiel


  • High Prelan of Doctrine

329
House Fathvell
  • Age40

  • Relationship StatusCelibate

  • OriginLuthadel

  • Allomantic StatusOpen

Posted 27 May 2014 - 03:59 AM

Janus stepped up on the dais, but kept to his own corner, away from the other Prelans. He had no interest in their hollow protestations of faith or import. Today was a solemn day, one in which the Lord Ruler brought down judgement on his people. How the hypocrites that surrounded him could not see that the very self-importance they strived for was exactly the distraction that allowed things that the attack on Keep Casuana to occur was beyond Janus.

If only I had been there. Some, were no doubt whispering that Janus's early departure had been a mark of failure, weakness, or perhaps laziness, and that he failed the Lord Ruler by not being there to help the Inquisitor Davinna bring the skaa half breed to justice. Even Janus could not blame them for that. They all knew he was Mistborn, after all, and the Lord Ruler had given him this power to be used in his service. Janus was not concerned that his inadequacy as an Allomancer would be the subject of gossip. He was comfortable in what he was good at and what he was not. What discomforted him was that he still felt like a failure.

Could it be that the red-haired girl from the ball, Delissia, had been a sign? The way she had piqued his interest and impressed him with her piety had certainly been abnormal from Janus's normal experience at balls. What if the Lord Ruler had sent the woman as a sign that Janus was to stay, but Janus had been too eager to leave to notice it? He resolved once again to find the woman Delissia and speak with her again. Even if she weren't a sign, he needed to know why she did not disgust him like the rest of her peers.

The Lord Prelan, Ashriel Deveaux, also stood apart, surveying the crowd gathering to bear witness to their Lord's judgment. Ashriel had always impressed Janus, earning his grudging respect with his exemplary conduct and dependable reason. While Janus was certain the man must be corrupt deep down, no man could rise to the rank of Lord Prelan without some form of corruption, Janus appreciated the example Ashriel served as to the other high officials of the Lord Ruler's church.

Not knowing what else to do, and deeming the Lord Prelan to be better company than the rest of them, Janus stepped up to the front of the dais as well, and made his own study of the crowd. Inadvertently he found himself searching the sea of faces for a flash of red hair, and cursed himself for doing so. Trying his best to focus his mind and prepare for the Lord Ruler's arrival, Janus continued to observe the crowd in silence.



#3 Odairn


  • Elariel House Steward

329
House Fathvell
  • Age50

  • Relationship StatusSingle

  • OriginTathingdwen

Posted 06 November 2014 - 07:24 PM

Odairn followed closely at Alistair's shoulder as the men of Elariel's first tier made their way across fountain square towards the pavilion where they would be viewing the executions from. They were a small group, and Mikhail's absence made the group feel all the smaller. Due to the importance of the meeting that would occur during the executions, the lesser Elariels would be seated elsewhere. Odairn disliked having such a large portion of the family out of his supervision after the previous night, but he hoped his agents among them would keep things under control, and prevent word from spreading too far before they figured out what the hell was going to happen with the Ventures. Yes, if they were going to get out of the mess they were in, they would have to act quickly and remain in control of the situation.

"Yes... yes of course you are right, Odairn. Help me draft a letter to Ellsworth." The carriage ride there had been a silent one. Nolan, a relative outsider as the only first tier male in Luthadel who was not a part of Alistair's immediate family had seemed out of place sharing a carriage with the father, uncle, and first cousin of the deceased. The deceased? Is that how I think of him already? Andrew, of course, showed no discomfort. No, Odairn knew what lay behind the eldest son's silence, and it certainly wasn't discomfort. Mikhail's death had changed everything, and Andrew would already be planning his next move. Odairn had seen him, taking everything in, searching the countenances of his companions for weaknesses to exploit in the days to come. If he was going to continue to protect Alistair, he was going to have to step more cautiously now that Mikhail was gone.

Gone. Why does that word hurt so much? Aaron had also been silent of course. The normally affable man looked utterly defeated, his newly shorn and styled hair seeming to imprison him rather than make him look more professional. Odairn would have work to do if he was to ensure Aaron would not undo all that he and Alistair had striven for these last few years. Odairn was determined, he had worked to hard to let his efforts go to waste because of Aaron's indifference to politics or Andrew's manipulations.

"Go.." Alistair had said in the early hours of morning. "You must see that Aaron is prepared for what is to come. The meeting is arranged, and our other preparations can wait for the moment..." If Nolan's silence was uncomfortable, Andrew's calculating, and Aaron's sullen, Odairn was unable to fit the silence the Lord of House Elariel had cloaked himself in this morning. As close as he was to Alistair, he knew the man must be mourning the loss of his eldest son, in whom he had seen so much potential, and so much of himself. And yet, none of that was observable in his dark eyes. Alistair's silence was something cold, unmoving, and more immense than mere sorrow--a silence fit for the dead.

He hasn't had time to grieve yet. But will he, when he gets the chance? Did you leave room for grief when you made him Lord? The pavilion they had reserved to share with the Ventures was empty, which was a good sign. Arriving first would make them seem more powerful, and ready for what was to come. It might also make it seem like the Ventures were coming to them, even though the meeting grounds had been planned and reserved jointly. As Odairn's four charges climbed the hastily constructed steps to find their seats, Odairn stepped back and caught hold of a senior attendant.

"Master Vaht? Shall I fetch the tea from the carriage now?"

Odairn nodded. While a morning like this one might call for something stronger, none of the Elariels could afford to get sloppy while dealing with Ellsworth Venture. "Yes, that would be good." As the young man turned to leave, Odairn hesitated, and then called him back. "Perhaps you might bring out the brandy as well?"

"The brandy, Master Vaht? But it's so early..."

"I'm concerned the tea might grow cold," Odairn reasoned, raising an eyebrow, "Now, if you are done questioning my judgment, please hurry." The young man's eyes widened slightly before he turned on his foot and hurried away. When he was out of sight, Odairn allowed himself a small satisfied smile before resuming his common composure as he turned to attend to the needs of his Lord, or at least, those needs that he could attend to.







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