Jump to content

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!

Topics on the forum will contain spoilers for the Mistborn Trilogy

Forum Rules
The Story Thus Far
Character Application
Frequently Asked Questions
Character System Guide
Tagging System

The Three Metallic Arts
Guide to the Final Empire
Map of Luthadel
The Great Houses

Introduce Yourself
Universal Continuity Thread
The Timeline
Adoptable Characters
Wanted Characters
Face Registry
Open Threads List

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
All original characters, places, and documentation are property of their creators. Do not reproduce or republish without permission.

A subsidiary of 17th Shard, the Official Brandon Sanderson Fansite

Long Awaited Return

Open Skaa W2 D2 NT

1 reply to this topic

#1 Maks

Member of Lucille Deveaux's Book Club

Posted 23 July 2017 - 05:17 AM

It had been far too long since the ball had ended, since everything had gone awry. Well, perhaps not everything. Maks locked the front door of the shop; the sun had set, the business day was done. A day that had dragged on torturously slow for the dressmaker. Why hadn’t anyone returned to the shop yet? He picked up a sewing kit that had been left at a work station and returned it to a shelf in the back room.

A frown was on his lips, as it had been since two nights prior. His stomach had been tied up in knots, and food didn’t seem appealing. Still, he found himself in the kitchens each night, hoping and waiting until he slipped into fitful sleep. Tonight would doubtless be any different. The cook had already gone up to bed, so Maks made himself a cup of tea, though it was not nearly as good as when old Agatha made it. He sat down at the table, rapping his fingers on the wood. If Perrin or Ignas didn’t return by the following evening, Maks would assume them dead. But what then? Maks didn’t have any other rebel cell locations; it was safer that way.

He sat for hours, tea barely touched, and the door remained closed. Maks’ eyes closed and his head slumped down.

The dressmaker jerked awake. What was that? He stood cautiously, eyes on the door. Had someone knocked, or was it just someone walking upstairs? Maks picked up knife from the table and moved to the door, opening it slowly.

Dim light from the kitchen bathed the cobblestones and an empty alley. Maks sighed, opening the door wide, further illuminating the misty alley.

“It’s about time, Maksy boy.” A voice said from the shadows to the side of the door. Not just -a- voice, but one that belonged to the only person that would call him Maksy.

“Perrin!” Maks dropped the knife and moved to the Mistborn’s side. He was obviously wounded, weak. “Lord Ruler.. I thought for sure you were dead!” Maks pulled Perrin’s arm up around his shoulder and helped him into the kitchen. “Natt! Agatha!” He called up the stairs as he moved to set Perrin down in the seat he had occupied only moments before.

Perrin smirked at him, his face bruised and bloody, “Thought I was dead for sure a few times as well.” He winced as he shifted in the chair, trying to get more comfortable. “I need some metal. Pewter.”

Maks nodded, hurrying to the store cupboard. Vials in hand, he returned to Perrin, “Is anyone else alive?”

The Mistborn shrugged as he downed the metal. He closed his eyes, relaxing a little, “I played my part in the attack, I’ve no idea where anyone else is…” He trailed off, “Wait, no one else has returned?”

Maks shook his head, “No one.” He frowned, “I was ready to give everyone up for dead and continue on here alone. But now that you’ve returned, we can contact other cells and find out what Ignas has planned.”

Perrin tried to sit up straighter, hissing in pain, “Do you think we can put off our daring plans until I’ve had at least a few hours of actual rest?”

The dressmaker hesitated, then nodded once. It was then that Natt and Agatha arrived in the kitchen. “Soup and more pewter for Perrin. Do we have his room still prepared?” Agatha nodded in response, busying herself with heating up some soup from dinner. Natt had retrieved a med kit to tend to Perrin’s most obvious injuries, which he allowed, though obviously grudgingly. Maks remained quiet for a short time, but couldn’t for long. “Why didn’t you return sooner?”

“I was only able to-- ah!” He pulled away from Natt, pushing his hands away, “I only shook the inquisitor off my trail this morning, but I couldn’t risk returning too soon. The people here are too valuable.”

“I suppose I should thank you for that.” Maks folded his arms. “You can sleep, but when you awake, we have work to do. I don’t know any of the other rebel cells, but Ignas gave you that list. You’re the only line of communication we’ll have.”

Perrin nodded, obviously tired and weak. He stood, wobbling a little in the process, “I’ll just get to that sleep you mentioned, then.” Maks moved to Perrin to help steady him on his feet, but the man waved him off. “Bright and early.. tomorrow afternoon? Think I can drag myself out of bed by then.”

Maks smirked despite himself and nodded. “Sleep well. I’ll make sure there’s plenty of pewter brought to your room.”

The mistborn nodded gratefully, then made his way up to his room, leaving the dressmaker behind with his tea. Maks returned to the backdoor of the shop that had been left open. He peered out into the mists again, hoping that perhaps Ignas would miraculously appear as well. It was a foolish hope, however, and so Maks shut the door.



#2 Perrin

Member of Lucille Deveaux's Book Club

Posted 26 July 2017 - 05:54 AM

Perrin felt like all of Kredik Shaw had fallen on his head when he finally woke up. With eyes barely cracked open, he pushed himself up into a sitting position. “Ow.” He rubbed his temples, groaning when he lifted his arms even a little; likely had more than a couple broken ribs. Perrin reached within to stoke his pewter, but found his stores were empty. No wonder he was feeling so horrible. Luckily, Maks had followed through with his promise from the night before; a large bag of pewter sat on the nightstand with a pitcher of water.
He took a few minutes to down a large portion of the pewter, drinking slowly, as everything hurt, but the restored metal store helped to dull some of that pain and he was able to finally heave himself out of bed. The shop had it’s usual bustle; things hadn’t changed for the skaa living here since the attack on the ball. So strange to think that after the chaos and pain that so many had endured, life simply went on.

A fresh loaf of bread sat on the table with a small plate of butter. Perrin sat down at the table and cut himself a big slice, winking at one of the cooks as he did so. She smiled at him and rolled her eyes, then poked her head through the door that lead to the workroom. A few moments later Maks came through the door, worried look on his face, but then again, when didn’t he look worried? “Someday your face will freeze like that, you know.” Perrin said before taking a bite of the bread (which was amazing).

Maks’ expression shifted to confusion for a moment, then to annoyance, prompting a chuckle from Perrin; which hurt. “Feeling better?”

“No. But the pewter is helping. Thank you for that.” He nodded towards Maks. “How long was I out?”

“We’ll be closing up for the evening in about half an hour. So… a good twenty hours or so.” Maks folded his arms. “Are you up for talking yet? Ignas still hasn’t returned or sent word. I think it might be time to consider the fact that he didn’t survive the attack.”

Perrin sighed, chewing another bite of bread. “Gib meh a chahnce to eat.”

“No, I don’t think I will. Our position here is tenuous. If Ignas or Nessa were captured and tortured for information, we might very well be dead later tonight. You’re the one who was given the list of other rebellion cells, so you’re the one who has to step up and take some responsibility.” Maks said with a glare.

“Take some responsibility?” Perrin smirked. Risking his life to lead an inquisitor on a chase wasn’t good enough for Maks? Stupid seamstress. “Responsibility. Sure.” He reached into his pocket and fished out the list Ignas had given him the night before the attack. “Here’s one. Not too far. Led by someone named Datura. Shall we just go take a stroll? I think I could keep from passing out in the streets.”

Maks’ frown deepened, if that were even possible. “You shouldn’t have told me that; it’s sensitive information.”

Perrin laughed and tossed the list onto the table as he picked up his bread again, “Maks, you are an incredibly frustrating individual sometimes.” He took a large bite, and after he’d swallowed it, fished out another handful of pewter from his bad and washed it down with a glass of water. “You wanted another cell’s location, there you go.” He gestured towards the paper, “If you’d like for me to come with you on this little visit, you’ll have to wait until I finish my bread.” Perrin finished by grabbing the rest of the loaf and smiling like an ass at Maks.

Maks pinched the bridge of his nose, looking down. “Fine. I’ll go close up the shop. You have until then to finish your bread.”

The dressmaker retreated back through the door and Perrin held up a rude gesture towards his back while chewing happily. A half an hour passed pleasantly for Perrin as he finished the bread and much of the pewter. He convinced one of the cooks to get him another sack of it just as Maks returned to the kitchen. “Ah! Maksy boy! I’ve been waiting for forever, I thought you wanted to actually accomplish something today.”

Even from across the room, Perrin could hear Maks grind his teeth. He grinned broadly and, finding new strength in annoying Maks, stood up from the table without so much as a wince. Maks threw on a cape with a hood and exited the shop without a word to Perrin. The Mistborn chuckled and tied his new bag of pewter to his belt along with a flask of water, then grabbed a cape from near the door as well and headed out into the alley.

It was time to find this Datura.

Edited by Perrin, 26 July 2017 - 05:54 AM.

Posted Image

4 user(s) are reading this topic

0 members, 4 guests, 0 anonymous users