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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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W1 D7 EM BelKaal Sanna Tekiel

3 replies to this topic

#1 BelKaal


Posted 02 December 2010 - 06:48 AM

The halls of Keep Tekiel were cold and nearly silent in the early hours of the morning. An open second-floor window and some deft climbing had been all BelKaal needed to get inside the keep. There had been a few tense moments with guard patrols, but he hadn't been truly worried; if they had caught him, they would have only found a servant they had assumed missing. A few beatings and he would be back to work, if not in a particularly comfortable arrangement.

Fortunately, BelKaal had gotten inside unmolested and unharmed. He slipped down the stone corridor, stepping silently on the lush carpet. Felicity had gotten ahold of a good body - a servant in the higher levels of Keep Tekiel, near enough to the main quarters to allow relatively easy access, but not close enough for a servant's week-long absence to arouse too much suspicion.

BelKaal turned down a side corridor, off the main carpet and onto the cool stone floor. There were a few servant chambers hidden back here; small alcoves just large enough for two servants and their pitiful belongings. At least, what could be called belongings of servants barely better than skaa - changes of clothes, different jackets for serving different nobles, the occasional boxing, knickknacks collected here and there.

BelKaal's current mask had gone by the name of Ramel, and the file Felicity had given BelKaal had said the room he shared was with a man named Aver.

The door squeaked slightly on its badly oiled hinges as BelKaal opened it, taking a look around. There was a snoring mound on a pallet in one corner that was undoubtedly Aver. The rest of the tiny room was tidy, a pile of clothes near each of the two pallets, and a few pristine serving uniforms hung on a hook on the wall. Not seeing anything out of place, BelKaal slid into the room and closed the door behind himself with a snap.

The mound shifted mid-snore, cutting off and tossing blankets up. A pale, wiry man sat up immediately, eyes fixed on BelKaal - no, on Ramel - with shock. He had obviously been expecting someone else.

"Ramel!" the man exclaimed, pushing the blankets off the rest of the way, "you're back! What happened to you? Some of the others have been starting to wonder where you got off to. I told them about the note you left saying you went to see some people in the city, but I think they were thinking you had been able to run away....."

"No," Ramel told Aver miserably, "Who could escape Luthadel? I've talked about it before, but let's be reasonable...." He trailed off, trying to convey a downtrodden sentiment. Ramel had tried running away, but Felicity had nabbed him before he got very far. From the profile, a dejected runaway would be the best way to imitate Ramel. It would also allow BelKaal an opening to throw himself into his work and avoid contact with the servants for a while. At least, long enough until he could change bodies.

"I'm just.... so tired," Ramel sighed, really laying on the depression, "I just need to sleep. Maybe I'll feel better in the morning. I should get a good start ...." Ramel reached for the blankets on the other pallet, dropping down on top of it.

Aver's eyes opened wider a little. "You should go work up near Mistress Sanna's quarters today! I'm sure that would cheer you up! I know how much you like listening to her talk..."

Ramel looked up, smiling faintly at Aver. Perfect. "Yes, that sounds great. Now let's get some sleep. I'll need to do my best if I'm with Mistress Sanna tomorrow." Especially if I'm going to find someone better than this to imitate. BelKaal lay down, pretending to drift off, listening to Aver climb back down and begin snoring again.

#2 BelKaal


Posted 05 December 2010 - 07:17 AM

BelKaal rose with Aver before the sun, prepared for his task of the day. As the man chatted, trying so hard to make everything normal and cheery for the 'depressed' Ramel, BelKaal ran through lists of things he had to do in his head. Servant duties - clean the rooms before noon, wait on nobles, don't be seen. Real duties - keep eye out for higher-ranking servant, find a way to stay near nobles, listen in on conversations. The lists continued running, reviewing over and over.

"I think you're right," Ramel said, cutting off Aver's chatter, "I will attend Mistress Sanna today." Convenient that he would suggest one of my targets. He gave Aver a weak smile.

Aver's face broke into a large grin. "Excellent! That will cheer you up, I just know it!" He finished shuffling the pathetic blankets around, and strode to the door. "I have to attend Master Hector today." He grimaced. "Good luck!" With that, Aver quickly and quietly moved out into the hall and closed the door, leaving BelKaal alone in the room.

BelKaal's unnaturally large ear was pressed against the door a second later. The increased size allowed him to hear Aver's footsteps quite clearly move down the hallway on the other side of the door. When the footsteps had almost faded, BelKaal turned to Aver's pile of clothing and scraps. It was rather neat, though modest would have been a very generous description of the pile's size. Sifting through it didn't take long, but it didn't matter; the pile was useless to BelKaal.

Couldn't expect much from a servant anyway, he thought, replacing a fold in the fabric, making sure the pile looked exactly as Aver had left it. Servants could be very picky about their possessions, BelKaal had discovered. Not surprising, given how little they possessed. Either way, Aver had nothing of use, and BelKaal needed to get attend 'Mistress Sanna'.


BelKaal navigated his way around the armchairs spread around the hearth, polishing the wood and making sure the pillows were fluffed properly. Sanna's sitting room was filled with expensive trinkets, ornaments, and, for some reason, copious amount of throw pillows scattered everywhere. There was a large pile of boxes on and around an ornate table, and the room was overwhelmingly pink.

Such lavish wealth, he thought picking up Sanna's breakfast tray, bought with Father's atium and human lives. Can't they see how they hurt the world in their greed? Still, even if he didn't like the flaunting the nobles did, he had a job to do. Getting himself whipped for being inefficient wouldn't help his true goal.

The door swung open, and BelKaal froze, trying to remain as invisible as possible in the pink environment. His livery had a few slashes of pink specifically for serving in Sanna's quarters, but he still stood out. He shouldn't have lingered in her quarters so long, even if she wasn't supposed to be back for another few hours at the earliest. Whoever walked through the doors probably wouldn't be pleased finding him there...

#3 Sanna Tekiel

  • The Pink Lady

Nessa's Baywrap
  • Age23

  • Relationship StatusSingle

  • OriginLuthadel

  • Allomantic StatusHidden

Posted 10 December 2010 - 12:08 AM

Sanna sank down ungracefully in the chair nearest the door to her antechamber and pulled her shoes off, dropping them on the floor next to the chair. She had decided not to wear those ones after all; they pinched her toes abominably even though she had only been wearing them for an hour. As a result, she?d come home early, and decided to pester Aldwin instead. The shoes, however, needed to go first. She leaned down to inspect her feet for blisters - there was indeed one forming on the small toe.

She blew out her breath in a sigh, but when a moment later Sanna realized she was not alone she leapt upright, startled, from the chair. She had a brief moment of confusion, and a little alarm, before she realized that it was only one of the skaa servants. He was frozen stock-still, a polishing cloth clutched tight in one hand and the tray from breakfast in the other, and much more alarmed than she was now that she had seen who it was.

Well, he oughtn't to be frightened of Sanna; she disliked it if people froze or flinched if she looked in their direction, even if they were only skaa. It left her feeling distinctly uncomfortable when they did so. Besides, she did not think much of those who were casually cruel to skaa; even if they had been born with the right, Sanna believed it said something significant about a noble's character if they would strike out at a completely defenseless creature. She was not about to have him punished for doing his work, at any rate, even if he had momentarily unsettled her. "You needn't worry about it," she told him lightly, waving her hand in the air to indicate that she meant that in a general fashion.

He was familiar; she was certain she had seen him around quite often, in fact, although not recently. Sanna had not questioned that. Skaa vanished occasionally, and she preferred not to find out what was going on; she left the management of the skaa servants to others, who were much more suited for it. She was almost certain she even knew this one's name, though; Sanna tried to recollect it.

"Ramel, isn't it?"

#4 BelKaal


Posted 19 January 2011 - 01:36 AM

Ramel gave a leg, making sure never to meet the Mistress' eyes. "Yes, mi'lady. I-I..." he swallowed hard, discomfort showing plainly on Ramel's face, though Bel'Kaal felt none of it. He forced a stammer again.

"P-please forgive me, m-m-mistress, I d-did not know you w-would b-be here. I-I j-j-just..." He trailed off, edging towards the door, keeping his eyes carefully on Sanna's feet. Bel'Kaal sneered inwardly at her pompous frilly dress, fabric for the sake of fabric; a waste.

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