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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!

Topics on the forum will contain spoilers for the Mistborn Trilogy

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.

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Member Since 04 Jul 2015
Offline Last Active Today, 02:49 AM

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In Topic: Arrival at Fellise

15 April 2018 - 05:10 AM

She felt his eyes on her, on the folds of her ridiculous dress. She hadn’t felt that scrutiny earlier, likely because the rooms they’d walked through provided a feast for the eyes. But now, as they sat in a more subdued space, his eyes were no longer busy taking in architectural details. Now they had room to notice other things. She sipped her tea, casting her eyes toward her lap as she did so.

She’d always worried about her clothes. She didn’t think it would stop anytime soon. Unless she was wed to someone who could keep her in current fashions. But then . . . who knew what her worries would be then? Would he be quick to anger, like her father? Would he lift his hands to her, too? And what would become of Aric if she wasn’t there to keep him safe?

No, she didn’t appreciate that she had to worry about looking like a fool in front of the rest of the nobility. It was an ever-present irritant, like a painful itch she couldn’t reach to scratch. But it wasn’t even close to the biggest problem she had.

If every last gentleman in every last noble house spurned her for it, then at least she’d be at home for Aric, for as long as they still had one.

She drew in a breath, and burned a pinch of pewter.

You’re stronger than this.

He inquired about the non-existent balls back at her home. And why wouldn’t he? She was of House Sorelle, and their home was a stunning piece of old architecture. But it was falling apart. Her mind went to the hallways that connected to empty room upon empty room. To the water dripping from leaks in the towers. To the wallpaper curling in on itself, as it detached from sections of wall. None of those areas were public, of course, but the idea of a large assembly of nobles entering her home, where some would peel off to explore on their own . . . it was frightening. It was also depressing, because she knew what it could be, when it was taken care of properly. She knew what it had looked like before so much furnishings and art had been sold off for cash.

“I’m afraid not,”she replied, her eyes catching his before she looked down at her hands, where they held the teacup and saucer in her lap.

“My father hasn’t thrown a single soiree since my mother died, he hasn’t the heart for it . . . I was just a little girl when he held the last one. I was seven or so. I had one dance with my father. He, um, had me put my feet on top of his.” She shook her head lightly at the memory, a wistful smile on her face.

He’d been a different man, then.

“So it will all be pretty new to me,” she said looking back up at him.

“It will be nice to be acquainted with at least one person there,” her expression brightened a touch with her words, as she was thankful she’d at least had this meeting beforehand.

In Topic: Arrival at Fellise

13 April 2018 - 02:07 AM

He seemed comfortable here, in the smaller, more casual space, in a room that was meant to be lived in on a daily basis rather than reserved for special occasions. He even passed a cup of tea to her, happy to jump right in and start living in his newest residence.

She smiled at the praise he offered to her House, based on what he’d seen so far. She blushed slightly at that, in both gratitude and slight embarrassment that she hadn’t made it clear that there was more to see, but that the most important public spaces had been covered.

“My father will be happy to hear you’re pleased. I believe he was overseeing some final touches on the outbuildings, but I will make sure to pass along the compliments.”

He would probably come up to the house to fetch her. She hoped he got preoccupied and would lose track of time on some detail. She’d much rather see herself out and walk across the property to meet him to minimize the chance that he’d do something embarrassing.

She took a petite sip of her tea before looking back up at him.

“Actually, we’ll be heading out to stay in Luthadel for a while, to take part in this season’s string of balls. This will be my first season in attendance, so lots to look forward to.”

Part of her was excited. Much of her was nervous. But she had gone through much worse. Critical stares and whispered jibes would not break her, when whips and fists had not. She wouldn’t let them.

His earlier comment, about enjoying the music at the social events came to mind easily.

“Are you and yours planning to do the same?”

In Topic: Learning to Write Better Resources

13 April 2018 - 12:53 AM

I have a bunch of books that I need to read/reread on writing! I highly recommend Gotham Writers Workshop classes. I've taken Science Fiction & Fantasy I & II, and Mystery II. My problem is I get away from writing for a while and then regress in terms of skill!

In Topic: Arrival at Fellise

12 April 2018 - 02:47 AM

He seemed pleased with her reaction to his piece, which turned out to be improvised, a fact that made it all the more impressive. To be able to translate feeling into sound so well, to compose a piece on the fly that flowed so well was an uncommon talent in her eyes.

The way he described composing the music in the moment, comparing it to dancing with a partner you never had before, learning the way together, finding a shared rhythm . . . It felt more like a metaphor for life and love than discovering the music one note at a time . . . Without her permission, blush rose to her pale cheeks.

She wondered if he’d ever used those lines before, on other young ladies who would recognize the romance in his words, the romance that was magnified by the intense look in his eyes as he spoke. She felt something in her chest react at that, and she was conscious of her youth and inexperience. She knew she couldn’t trust every reaction she had, couldn’t believe every word she was told. She had to be on guard for deception, had to protect herself however she could.

Monsters could be anywhere.

Handsome, smiling faces made the best masks to hide behind.

But part of her believed him, believed that he truly did have this beautiful vision of partnership between himself and whoever his father ultimately chose for him. Because he hadn’t merely spoken honeyed words; the music had said so much.

At his mention of resuming the tour, she inclined her head gently and led them deeper within the home. Next they stopped at the large dining room, with the massive wooden table suited for hosting large dinners. From there, they quickly walked through the kitchens, which were already bustling with activity.

Next, Avril led Lord Elliott and his steward into a spot that was far less grand than the Great Hall, but that was warmer and more comfortable: the sitting room. The room was decorated in greys and rich reds. The intimate space boasted a small fireplace, plush chairs and tufted velvet settees. Tea, small sandwiches, and mini pastries were arranged on the coffee table.

“Would you like some light refreshment?” she inquired, gesturing to the neat display of food and drink. “I do hope I haven’t been standing between you and a snack this whole time,” she bit down on her lower lip, her blue eyes flitting to the floor. The largest, grandest rooms were too cavernous for this small repast, so it had to wait for more suitable environs.

In Topic: Arrival at Fellise

11 April 2018 - 03:05 AM

A soft smile graced his lips as he admitted that had been his intention, and that he’d happily play for her. She wasn’t sure what had made him hesitate. Perhaps she hadn’t been enthusiastic enough at the question. She certainly hadn’t meant to put him off. The situation had been recovered, thankfully.

The violin was placed in his deft fingers, he closed his eyes, and began. Graceful tones poured from his fingers, weaving a melody that was as beautiful as it was unknown to her. It pleased the ear, and moved the soul, the rising and falling tension sending her own heart rate up and down, and even sending a few shivers down her spine. There was a journey between those notes, with high points and low points and the simple warmth of stability and familiarity. She saw Lord Elliott get wrapped up in it, as his fingers expertly worked the bow across the strings. She wondered where it had taken him, back to his Ancestral home, or on to Luthadel, or somewhere in between. She wondered what brought him to those soaring heights, and to those trembling lows.

His music spoke volumes louder than anything he’d said so far, but Avril wasn’t sure she had the knowledge to properly translate it, to decrypt the deeper truths within it. She supposed that the calm baseline that dominated the piece suggested a relatively tranquil life, a fortunate existence. But as with all human lives . . . there were also moments of joy and sadness.

It moved her. She felt it in her chest as though she’d been physically touched, like a cool, but gentle finger ran down the center of her ribcage pausing a few inches above her belly button. Beneath the notes there was a faint whisper that expressed a knowing, an understanding of people.

But not her.

She didn’t think it could know her.

It couldn’t know the pain she carried. The fear. The hatred. The deep almost maternal love for her little brother. The hopes she had for him and how Aric’s possibilities were like oxygen for her. They kept her going.

The music was feeling. It knew feelings. Including some of hers. It just didn’t know the reasons behind them.


She swallowed, her eyes shining, as her eyes met Elliott’s as he returned from his distant journey back to his manor.

“That was beautiful, Lord Elliott,” she said taking a step towards him. “Did you write that yourself? Does it have a name?”