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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 31 Jul 2017
Offline Last Active Yesterday, 05:15 PM

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House Faarskar

14 January 2018 - 09:53 PM

Major/High House

Player Leadership Information
Handle: Daydam
OoC Account: Daydam
Contact: Tereré (with lemonade, of course!)

General Information
House Name: Faarskar
Classification: Major/High House
Colors: Blue and silver.
Socioeconomic Rating: 6.2
General Description: House Faarskar is a powerful noble house from Mantiz, in the Western Dominance. Their position in the middle of the mountains has given them a huge advantage when it comes to mining gems, gold and silver. Thanks to this, their main production is jewelry, silverware and other decorative products.
Astor Faarskar, the current head of the House, is not like his predecessors; while they made the house become powerful quickly by risking a lot of resources, Astor prefers to play safe. Even though he wants to make House Faarskar grow more powerful, he cares too much about his family to take big risks. However, he has decided to purchase a small manor in Fellise and send his son Elliott there, in hopes of getting new allies.

Character Information
Head: Astor Faarskar
Heir: Darius Faarskar
Player Members:
-Elliott Faarskar
NPC Members:
- Veeras, Terris steward. (Might make him an adoptable character, but I'll leave him here for now)
- Annelle Faarskar, Astor's wife.
- Freya Faarskar, youngest of the Faarskar siblings.

Home & Wealth
Current Location: Mantiz, Western Dominance.
Ancestral Home: Mantiz, Western Dominance.
Financial Avenue: A wide variety of products made with gems, silver and gold, like silverware and expensive decorations.

-House Fathvell – [Friendly] – House Faarskar's proximity to the Southern Dominance and Islands gives them a big advantage for trading with House Fathvell.
-House Elariel– [Neutral]
-House Deveaux– [Negative] – Both houses work with metals, and though there hasn't been tension between them before, Astor Faarskar's latest moves -purchasing a manor in Fellise and sending his son to forge new alliances- has made them become a potential competitor in Deveaux's eyes.
-House Sureau– [Positive] – Any enemy of House Deveaux is an ally of Sureau. Though there's no real rivalry between Faarskar and Deveaux -at least for now-, the tension between the two houses has made Sureau see Faarskar as a potential ally.

-House Zerrung– [Negative] – Since both houses come from the Western Dominance and deal in metalworks, there has always been some tension between them.
-House Devinshae– [Positive] – Although the two houses share a trading contract, there is still not much of a relationship between them.
-House D'Orsay– [Friendly] – House D'Orsay has been transporting resources for Faarskar for quite some time, and Astor trusts them to be loyal.
-House Merrick– [Neutral] – Astor doesn't trust Jasper Merrick, but considers dealing with him much safer than dealing with House Sureau and its many enemies. When Astor hired House Merrick to build the manor, he sent two of his own skaa to the building site as spies.

Fathvell: House Faarskar buys wine and rum from the Fathvells, and in exchange gives them a small discount on jewelry, decorations and tableware.
Devinshae: House Faarskar sells tableware and decorative items to House Devinshae for their many hotels across the Final Empire.
D'Orsay: House D'Orsay's many stables provide Faarskar with the means of transportation required for their deals. However, they have also been paid a little extra money during the building of the new manor in Fellise to report anything weird they might notice about House Merrick.
Merrick: House Merrick was hired to build House Faarskar's new manor in Fellise. Of course, Astor himself provided ornaments and other decorations for it.

Elliott Faarskar

10 January 2018 - 09:47 PM

Noble Misting

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Name/Handle: Martín / Daydam
Contact: Prepare some mate and I'll find you.

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Name: Elliott Faarskar
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Place of Origin: Mantiz, Western Dominance
Occupation: Musician
Relationship Status: Single

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Type of Powers: Misting
Metals Used: Bronze
Degree of Skill: Advanced (Savant)
Status: Known

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Elliott Faarskar is slim and youthful. Standing at 6.1 feet tall, with a medium nose and greyish brown eyes, he has no distinguishing features. His light brown hair, though somewhat rebellious, is always combed, and he tries his best to be well dressed all the time. He tends to wear dark blue vests, and puts a small silver clip on them, as some kind of family emblem. Elliott has tried to grow a beard, like his brother Darius, but he hasn’t been able to get it to grow properly, so he instead has just a slight stubble.

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Elliott Faarskar is an enthusiastic, charming young nobleman. He’s very kind and smiles all the time, trying his best to cause a good impression on absolutely everyone. Just like the other noblemen in his family, he is very loyal, and doesn’t care about showing his emotions. However, he’s a pretty good actor, and can hide his feelings very well whenever he wants to. This certainly comes in handy, since he’s very sensitive.
Elliott loves being the center of attention; seeing people’s reaction to his charming attitude makes him feel confident. Being the younger brother of a full Mistborn has always made him feel less valuable, though his relationship with Darius -and everyone in his family- is really good. They have always made him feel unique, but he’d really like to be more like his brother, and that’s his biggest insecurity.

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Special Skills: Acting, dancing, playing the violin, fighting

Strengths: Elliott is most passionate about music. He is an incredible dancer, and he uses that skill -as well as his skills as a violinist- to impress noblewomen whenever he can. However, he can get easily distracted, and often starts dancing to the rhythm of allomantic pulses instead of simply following the music. He is an incredible Seeker, and has a name for each metal’s pulsing signature, like the ‘Rioter’s March’ for zinc, or his personal favorite, the ‘Ballad of Bronze’.

Weaknesses: Elliott gets distracted easily, especially when he detects someone else’s Allomancy. He starts ‘listening’ to the pulses, feeling their rhythm, following it, and completely forgets what he was doing.
Elliot is very sensitive, and gets attached to others easily, which makes betrayal and rejection really painful for him.
He’s not his brother. He feels he’s not as smart, not as powerful, and not as useful to his house as Darius is. Whenever people compare Elliott to his brother, his confidence gets instantly destroyed.

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Elliott Faarskar was born in 900, son of Lord Astor Faarskar and his wife Annelle. His older brother, Darius, was already 6 years old at the time. On the next year, his sister Freya was born. Elliott grew up in a loving family; both his parents and his brother were very kind to him and smiled all the time. It wasn’t a tough life; House Faarskar was one of the most powerful noble houses in Mantiz, with a beautiful Keep where Darius and Elliott could do whatever they wanted.

Astor was a serious man, but that didn’t make him less kind towards his family. Yes, tough decisions had to be made sometimes, but he always said the most important thing was being happy. As a result, Darius and Elliott were encouraged to be whatever they wanted to be. Darius, being heir to the House, grew very interested on trading and economics. Elliott, on the other side, had an incredible passion and talent for music; ever since the first ball he had seen in Keep Faarskar when he was five, he had fallen in love with the sound of the instruments and the way people danced following the rhythm. He wasn’t really supposed to be at the ball -after all, he was still just a kid-, but he and his siblings had managed to sneak into it for a while to see what it was like.

Elliott was six when his brother Snapped. The kid wasn’t allowed to see the beating; Astor didn’t want his kids to see such brutality until it became time for them to suffer the same. So, Elliott and Freya stayed together at the boy’s room.

“Do you think he’ll be a Coinshot?” Freya loved the idea of soaring through the skies, and hoped to become a Coinshot herself someday.

“Maybe. Maybe he’ll be a Pewterarm like dad. I don’t really know how it works, I just hope we all get to be Allomancers.”

He wasn’t a Coinshot. Or a Pewterarm.

Darius was a Mistborn.

There was a Mistborn in the family. Elliott loved the idea. He thought that maybe, just maybe, if his brother was a Mistborn then so would he and Freya. He wanted to Snap as soon as he could to train with his brother, but Astor told him he would have to wait for a few years. So, Elliott waited, studying violin when he could and often playing with Freya and Darius, though his older brother started to have less and less spare time, since he had started studying and training during the afternoon. Years passed, and by the time Elliott was twelve it finally became time for him to Snap.

He instantly understood why his father hadn’t let him and Freya see the beatings. It was brutal. The pain was terrible, and Elliott’s screams resonated through the room. But the most painful thing was seeing his father just standing there, unable to do anything. Astor himself couldn’t stand the sight of a son being beaten. As soon as the beating stopped, the big nobleman moved toward the child with incredible speed and took him to his bedroom to recover. The last thing Elliott felt before falling unconscious was a cold liquid flowing down his throat, a warmth in his stomach, and a pulse, like a fast-paced rhythm for a melody that hadn’t yet started, coming from his father.

“Hey, little man.” The voice woke Elliott up. He opened his eyes slowly and saw Darius, now eighteen years old, standing at the side of his bed, with a smile on his face.

“Hey. Why aren’t you studying?”

“Why aren’t you playing the violin or running around with your sister?”

Elliott tried to chuckle, but the pain interrupted him. “I… I’m a Seeker.”

“Yes. Congratulations, you’re an Allomancer!”

“But…” Tears started forming in Elliott’s eyes, partially from the pain, but mostly from the fact that he suddenly felt inferior. ”But I’m no Mistborn. I’m not even a Coinshot, or a Pewterarm. I’m-”

“You’re Elliott Faarskar, my little brother, a good musician and an Allomancer. Plus, you’ve got far more charisma than I do. I get nervous in every ball, you know? Meanwhile, you get everyone’s attention with no effort, and always impress everybody.”

Elliott opened his mouth to speak, but didn’t find any words.

“You’re a Seeker. Yes, you’re not super strong, and you won’t be able to soar through the skies as if you were flying. But you don’t need that. You are what you make of yourself.” Darius leaned forward and lowered his voice to a whisper, his smile broadening. “Listen. Dad wanted to wait a couple days until you got better, but… take this,” he said, pulling a small vial out of his pocket. “Burn it, get used to the sensation. And Elliott... enjoy it. You are unique. Now you’ll be even more so.”

Elliott wiped his tears clumsily with his left hand and took the vial, trying to smile back at his brother. You are what you make of yourself. He drank the contents of the vial and waited, suddenly feeling the power surge within him. He reached in and started burning bronze, the warmth in his stomach feeling recomfortating. A slow pulse came from his brother. It was somehow different than the one he had felt coming from his father. He looked at his brother, a new idea coming to him.

“It’s like music.”

Darius frowned. “What?”

“It’s a pattern, just like the rhythm for a melody.”

His older brother smiled again. “There you go, then! A musician with a power related to music. See? It’s perfect for you, Elliott.”

Elliott looked down, frowning. “Darius?”

“Yes, little brother?”

“Can you… can you stay for a moment? I’d like to see what I can do. You can burn every metal, so maybe I can practice with you.”

Darius looked toward the door for a second, then turned back, grinning. “Well, I don’t think dad will mind. Here we go!”

From that moment on, Elliott started training with Darius almost every night, making him burn different metals each time to learn the differences between each one. He still felt like he was less than his brother, and seeing him burn all the different metals made him feel almost useless, but now he knew that being a Seeker was not a bad thing, especially for a musician such as himself. He decided to keep burning his bronze almost all the time, however, to try to see how far he could take his powers.

The year after Elliott Snapped, it was time for his sister Freya. Unfortunately, she wasn’t an Allomancer. At first, the girl was very sad; she wouldn’t be able to Push herself through the air across Mantiz like Darius did. However, talking to Elliott seemed to really help her, and she quickly recovered her confidence. Elliott was sure she felt more confidence than he did.

Years passed, and Elliott never stopped burning bronze. He even asked Darius to avoid burning copper during meetings with other noble houses, so that he could test his skills by sensing other people’s Allomancy. By the time Elliott was seventeen, he could easily detect what metal was being burned, if it was being flared, and even if the Allomancer was running low on it. He had been right. It was music. Sometimes, he would even get lost to the rhythm of the pulses and start dancing to it or playing a melody on the violin following that metal’s allomantic pattern. He had a name for each metal’s signature, such as the ‘Soothing lullaby’ or the ‘Warrior’s reprise’.

Emotional Allomancy was incredible for the young nobleman; depending on the selected emotions to be Soothed or Rioted, the pattern would vary slightly. It was difficult to notice, but he was slowly getting better at it. Every night, he would ask Darius to burn zinc and brass, trying to figure out exactly the variations.

The next year, Astor decided it was time to try something bold.

“I have purchased a small manor in Fellise” Astor explained his children and wife. The study was silent, and the steward, named Veeras, stood in a corner behind Elliott’s father.

“Are.. are we moving there?” Annelle, Elliott’s mother, sounded worried. Astor smiled, however, looking at her. “No, of course not. But we need to have a better presence at the Central Dominance if we want to become a Great House someday.

“Darius, I want you to go there,” he said, looking at his eldest son. “You are a full Mistborn, and as such you can show them our house is both stable and very powerful.” He made a short pause, then grinned. “Besides, you might get to find yourself a wife there. I know you would like that.”

Darius just stood there, dumbfounded. After a moment, he turned to see his siblings and his mother, his eyes suddenly stopping on Elliott, a smile appearing on his face. The boy met his eyes and Darius winked.

“Father, I’m afraid I can’t go. If I go, everybody will see our Mistborn in Luthadel and our home exposed. Anyone could simply send assassins here and obliterate our possibilities with little effort.”

Astor frowned, his smile disappearing, and looked toward Annelle. Everyone knew he wouldn’t risk getting his family killed, no matter what.

“Send Elliott instead,” continued Darius, earning a surprised stare from everyone in the room. “I know he’s young, and I might be better at politics, but he’s more experienced at socializing, and you all know it.”

Astor looked troubled. “I… I understand what you say, but it’s too dangerous. He’s only eighteen, and the nobility… It’s different there. They’re different there.”

One. Two. One. Two.

Elliott looked at his brother. Darius simply smiled. He’s Rioting dad. But no. Something was off about that pattern. At first, Elliott though Darius was running low on zinc, but that wasn’t it. He flared his bronze and finally realized it, suddenly looking to the other side, where his mother stood looking down, thoughtful, with a hint of a smile on her face. That’s it. He’s not Rioting dad. He’s-

“Darius is right, Astor. Elliott can do it.” Annelle sounded confident, though her eyes were on the verge of tears.


“Dad, listen,” Darius said. “They have balls, a lot of them. And who’s the best dancer in this family? Who’s the charming one, the one everyone likes? If you don’t think he’ll be fine, send Veeras with him. I’m not going, I need to stay here and protect the rest of you.”

Astor looked at Elliott, worried, but after a moment turned back toward Veeras. “What do you say?”

“My Lord, I will do whatever you ask of me.”

“I don’t care, Veeras.” Astor’s voice sounded tense all the sudden, almost angry. “If I wanted someone with no opinion at all I would’ve hired a skaa steward instead of you. Speak your mind.” He took a pause and spoke again, this time more softly. “Please, Veeras. Tell me what you think.”

Veeras frowned, looking at his master, and then looked at Darius and Elliott. A slight smile appeared on his face before he spoke. “I think master Darius is right. If he goes away, anyone will be able to come and kill the rest of you. He has been this House’s most important defense for some years, now.
“That makes Lord Elliott and Lady Freya the best candidates for the travel. However -and I’m sorry if I offend, for it is not my place nor my intention to do it- Freya is still too innocent to go there alone. As you said, master Astor, the nobility there can be quite dangerous if you’re not careful enough. Besides, Elliott is very skilled with a dueling cane. I’m sure he will be able to defend himself.”

Everybody in the room turned toward Veeras, astonished by his short speech. Lord Ruler, he barely ever speaks, and all the sudden he says all this? Astor, however, smiled.

“In that case” he said, “Elliott, do you feel you can do this? I won’t make you do it if you don’t want to.”

Elliott looked at his father, then his mother, and finally his brother and sister. I’ll be away from home, he thought. But… Becoming a Great House, going to balls, maybe finding a young noblewoman…

“I’ll do it.”

Darius relaxed visibly and both Annelle and Freya smiled. Astor turned toward the Terrisman. “Can you go with him, Veeras? Can you please make sure he’s safe?”

“Of course, my Lord.”

“Well,” the nobleman said, looking at Elliott. “Get ready, then. I’ll make some arrangements. You leave next week.”

The steward nodded and started walking toward the door, but Darius stopped him. “Veeras? Keep speaking your mind. We all need some advice from time to time.”

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Elliott moved to the side quickly to dodge the attack, his eyes closed, as if he was dancing with the air. The pattern changed as he spun, ready to strike. He rolled to the side as the pulses passed over his head, and turned back as he heard his opponent falling to the ground.

The beatings stopped.

Elliott opened his eyes to see the shadowy figure sprinting towards him. He blocked a swing from his opponent’s dueling cane with his own, then took a step back to put some distance between them. His rival took a moment, and then swung again.

One, two, three. One, two, three.

Elliott ducked the pewter-enhanced swing and smashed his cane into his opponent’s stomach, spinning quickly to try and score a second hit on his leg. He felt the sudden pressure of metals being flared, and the figure caught Elliott’s cane with his left hand, grabbing it so hard it started shattering. The rival’s dueling cane came swinging fast, and Elliot had to jump backward, letting go of his own cane to avoid getting hit.

The figure got up slowly, looking at him, before starting to sprint toward him. Elliott jumped backward again, but the rhythm changed again as a single coin shot out of his opponent’s hand and flew in his direction.

Elliot let himself fall to the ground, the coin passing just over his head. He grunted as he reached the floor, hitting his head with the cold stone. His opponent got to him before he got up, and put a foot on his chest.

“Too slow.”

“I... know.” Elliott said, trying to recover from the fall. He opened his eyes and saw Darius looming over him with a smile on his face.

“Still, that was impressive. You dodged me twice without even looking!”

“I...” Elliott was out of breath. Being only a Seeker was a real problem when fighting a Mistborn. “I can’t beat you. And you’re not even fighting.”

Darius frowned, taking a step back to allow Elliott to get up. “What do you mean?”

“The coins,” Elliott said. “You aim just over my head, so I don’t get hurt. And your pewter, instead of flaring it to get to me faster, you barely used it to catch a swing. You think I don’t realize that? You could easily defeat me, were you not so merciful.”

Darius looked down. “Brother, I...” There was a short pause. After a moment, Darius looked back at his brother, surprised. “Lord Ruler, you felt I was flaring it?”

“Of course. That’s not too hard. The tough part is knowing when you’re running low, or recognizing the exact effects of brass and zinc.”

“For the… You’re an incredible Seeker. Really.”

“I…” Elliott blushed. “I hope so. I’m not as powerful as you think.” I’m not as powerful as you.

“No. You’re even more than that.” Darius said, smiling. “Now come. You need to get ready.”

Elliott didn’t want to say goodbye. He really wanted to go to Luthadel, but he would miss his family a lot. Everyone was waiting for him at the door when he got out of Keep Faarskar. Veeras had already started taking his luggage into the carriage. Elliott looked at his mother, who had tears in her eyes, but still kept her composure.

“Well,” he said, trying his best not to cry. “I guess I’ll see you soon.”

Freya rushed in his direction and hugged him. She was crying. “Please, be safe. Please.”

Elliott looked at her, tears forming in his eyes, and forced himself to smile. “I promise I’ll be back safe. I’m not going to the Pits of Hathsin, I’m just going to Luthadel for some time!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know which one is worse.” Astor said, forcing a smile. Elliott’s father definitely held a grudge against the city, but nobody had ever asked about it. “Anyway, take care. And send us news as often as you can, son.”

“I’ll do it. I promise.”

Elliot and Astor locked eyes for a moment, smiling. Yes, I’m certainly going to miss them. He turned toward his brother, who was standing beside Annelle, smiling.

“Take care of them, brother,” Elliott said. He leaned forward, whispering so nobody else could hear him. “And keep Soothing them for a while, it may help them.”

Darius chuckled, then looked at his younger brother. “Go. We’ll be waiting for you, Elliott. And remember, you-”

“You are what you make of yourself”, he said, smiling, his eyes filled with tears.

“Yeah. And so far, you’ve made yourself awesome. Just make sure they don’t change that.”

A few minutes later, Elliott was riding the carriage to Fellise, ready for the biggest challenge in his life. His brother’s words still rang in his head. You are what you make of yourself. And so far, you’ve made yourself awesome. He still wasn’t too sure about that. But still, he was determined to impress everyone.


19 December 2017 - 03:50 AM

Skaa Tineye

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Name/Handle: Martín / Daydam
Contact: The way of my ancestors, or course; Mate-enhanced telepathy.

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Name: Ollie
Type: Skaa
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Place of Origin: Luthadel
Occupation: Tenement manager
Relationship Status: Single

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Type of Powers: Misting
Metals Used: Tin
Degree of Skill: Advanced
Status: Known to a selected few

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Ollie is a 5.7 feet tall skaa with a particularly distinguishable feature; his left arm ends right above where the elbow should be, due to an accident when he was a kid. He has a square face, with a medium round nose and clear blue eyes. He keeps his brown hair short, and has a slight stubble.

Ollie doesn’t really like to stand out among the other skaa, so he doesn’t really care for keeping himself clean of ash. He doesn’t smile very often, and tends to walk slowly, looking down but paying attention to every sound around him, which can make him pretty jumpy.

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Ollie is a kind, brave skaa. Earn his trust, and you’ll have earned a terribly loyal ally. He’ll do anything for those close to him (specially if you’re a skaa named Kess), but he’ll also become dependant on them. He deeply fears being abandoned, so letting go of other people can prove quite difficult for him. Because of this, he tries his best not to form bonds with other people, staying alone most of the time and talking to others as little as he can.

Even though many kids mocked him for his missing arm when he was younger, he has learned that it doesn’t make him worse than the others. However, he tries to deviate people’s attention from that arm as much as he can, since he doesn’t like to stand out.

Ollie’s heart is a mess. Having been abandoned by his parents was painful, but when Kess left the tenement he felt his heart simply shattering. Even years after that, he’s still trying to find her. Meb’s death was also a turning factor, which gave him more responsibilities in the tenements, and made him closer to the skaa in there. As a result, any kind of threat on the tenements can make Ollie extremely aggressive. It’s the only thing he has left, after all.

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Special Skills: Running, spying

Strengths: Ollie is really agile, which allows him to make his way through Luthadel with ease, even in crowded areas. His strength also helps him in fights, though he doesn’t have a lot of practice. His skills as a Tineye allow him to spy others and gather information without even being noticed.

Weaknesses: Even though he’s strong, Ollie’s missing the lower half of his left arm, which proves to be an inconvenience when fighting, trying to climb, or simply grabbing heavy objects.

Kess. Just thinking of her makes Ollie unpredictable. Even after all these years, he still hopes to see her again. And if he does, who knows what could happen?

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The fire. The pain. The unforgettable feeling of a life being changed forever.

Ollie was only 3 years old when he lost his arm in the explosion. He Snapped there, but all that was important at the moment was his left arm. His parents knew that could ruin his life, so they decided to leave him with Meb, a caring woman who took care of parentless children. Ollie knew the truth, though; his parents had abandoned him because he was broken.

The first months in Mab’s tenement weren’t easy. The other kids stayed away from him, calling him an “irregular” due to his missing arm. Meb tried to make him feel better all the time, but it seemed impossible to do. How could she? She just couldn't understand what it felt like.

A few months later, a baby called Kess came to the tenement. She had a green eye and the other one brown. Ollie hated her. Just looking at those eyes reminded him of his own defect. She was an irregular, but at least she would be able to work when she grew up. He was condemned to be a beggar.

As time passed, though, Ollie’s attitude toward the girl changed. To the other kids in the tenement, they were both the same. He still resented her a bit, but he didn't really show it. At the age of ten, Ollie saw a group of kids hitting Kess. Before he could even think of what to do, he found himself shoving himself into the middle of the fight to take Kess away from there. She was still crying when they got to Meb. There was something else, something aside from the pain of the beating. Had she just said she felt something warm within her?

She had. Kess was a Smoker.

During her recovery, Ollie visited Kess many times. He didn't completely understand why he cared so much for her safety. Was it the fact that she was an irregular, just like him? Was it the feeling of usefulness he had felt when he saved her from the other kids? Was it the look in those special, intriguing eyes of hers?

“Why do they hate us?” Kess seemed still scared, even though it had been almost a week after the beating.

“We're different. It's just that.”

Ollie felt the same way she did. He felt there was something wrong with him. But at this moment, seeing her like this, he knew what Meb had been trying to do when she said they were special. The difference was he knew what it felt like. He could really help Kess.

“Look... I know how you feel, Kess, but Meb is right. We may be different, but that doesn't have to be a bad thing. It's only bad if you let it become that. I found it difficult to believe at first, but she was always right.”

Incredible. He had spent so much time suffering for what he was, and now he had told her the exact thing he had always refused to believe. Did he truly believe it? He looked at the girl's eyes and found hope in them. He found peace. Finally.

He had to believe. For the two of them.

Ollie smiled at Kess. “Hey, besides, you have an advantage. If you want to be normal, you can simply cover one of your eyes.” He moved her hair in front of her left eye, still smiling. “See? Perfectly normal. If you don't see that as an advantage, then tell me, how am I supposed to hide my missing arm?”

Kess looked at his left arm, which ended abruptly where there should have been an elbow. She met his eyes, apparently worried. Finally, she started to smile. Yes, he thought. We are special.

* * *

“They don’t need me. They’ve got Meb and they’ve got you, and they have each other.”

Kess was leaving. Was she falling in love with that criminal Mav? No. That couldn’t be. Lord Ruler, it just couldn’t.

“You’re wrong, Kess. They need you.” Ollie hesitated. At eighteen, he felt much more like a regular skaa than an irregular, and it was all thanks to that girl. She had showed him what he could really be. What they could be. And now she was leaving? Abandoning him, just like his parents had when he lost his arm? No. I won’t allow it. “I need you.”

“For once in my life, I feel wanted, Ollie. I’m going.”

There was no time to be subtle. The idea of her leaving him alone again made Ollie feel angry. He hated Mav for taking her away. But he hated himself even more for not having dared to show his true feelings for her.
“If this is the only time you’ve felt that way, Kess,” he punched his single fist into the wall, scraping his knuckles, so that blood started to flow. He didn’t care. All he cared about was that girl, leaving him. “Then I’ve been failing everyday. He wants your copper, Kess. I want you.”

“You don’t know him, Ollie, you don’t know that.”

“Neither do you.”

Meb didn’t resist. She would miss Kess, Ollie knew that, but she wouldn’t force her to stay. As Kess passed him, Ollie turned to her, taking her by the arm and pulling her closer. He quickly moved his hand to her back, holding her as tightly as he could. He had thought that giving her one last hug would make things easier, but now that they were both so close together all he felt was pain. He whispered in her ear, trying not to let her see the tears forming in his eyes.

“To say that I will miss you is the greatest understatement I could make. You have been fighting the good fight, defying the nobles by helping the children, and Meb, and me build lives that have happiness and hope.”
Ollie relaxed his arm a bit and looked at her, gently pressing his nose against hers. Could she see the tears?

“I hope I see you again.” His voice came out soft, almost broken. “I hope one day we’ll fight together.” He hesitated, looking down at her lips. He was so close, he could have just kissed her. He wanted to. No. That will only make the two of you suffer even more. “I… You know where to find me.”

He released her, looking away as he held his left upper arm. He didn’t look back up until she had left.

* * *

The first few months after Kess left were hard; Ollie felt alone once again, abandoned. But things would be different this time. This time, he wouldn’t just give up. So, he started training every day. If Kess had gone with those criminals, maybe someday she’d come back looking for help. When that day came, he would be ready. Ollie also helped Meb at the tenement as much as he could. She was the only one left for him.

As the years passed, Ollie didn’t stop training. He was fast and strong, and had also become a very skilled Tineye. He still thought of Kess every day. He had found out some information; she had left Mav’s crew two years after leaving Meb’s tenement, and had disappeared after that.

Ollie needed more information. If she was out there, alone, he had to find her. He would go out often, trying to find Kess, or at least get some information on her whereabouts. Whenever he came back to the tenement, he’d ask Meb if Kess had come back. Unfortunately, other than the occasional “oh, I think I saw here a few days ago” from some skaa in the city, he never got any useful lead.

Ollie was 21 when Meb died. He was devastated, but didn't let the others see him as weak. He kept taking care of everyone with a few other skaa from the tenement, doing his best to preserve the place Meb had spent so much time and effort in.

At the age of 22, Ollie finally heard something good; apparently she had joined Datura’s crew a few years ago. At first, he got the idea of joining the crew just to see her again. However, he realised that would be just stupid. She was fine. She hadn't come back to see them, but she was fine. That would have to do for now. Ollie had other things to worry about, other people to be there for back in the tenements. If she ever needed help, though, he would be there to help. So, Ollie stayed at the tenements, taking care of everyone, with the hope that someday, hopefully soon, he would see her again.

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She was gone. Why should he care? She hadn’t cared about him. About Meb. About anyone in that place. No. That wasn’t right. This wasn’t about Kess leaving the tenements, it was about her leaving him. After all these years, after finally overcoming the fact that his fathers had abandoned him, Ollie was all alone once again.

He turned to look at Meb, who was standing behind him, looking through a window with a smile on her face. She turned to look at him, as if she had felt his eyes on her. “Don’t be sad, Ollie”, she said softly. “She’ll be fine”.

“I don’t care” he said quickly, trying to seem strong, but his words came out broken. Lies. I do care. I want her back. I need her back. “Do you… do you think we’ll see her again?”

Meb turned her head back to the window, her smile dampening just slightly. “I don’t know”. Ollie felt his heart shattering slowly. She wouldn’t come.

Meb’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Maybe she will. Maybe she’ll be back tomorrow, or the day after. Maybe she’ll come in ten years. And you know what? We’ll be here, waiting for her”.

“Why? She abandoned us. She doesn’t deserve it”. Lies again.

“We will be here, waiting for her,” Meb said, turning toward him, smiling again, “because that’s what we do. We care for our people. And I know, Ollie, that you care for her, too”.

Meb started walking toward the door slowly, leaving Ollie alone in the room, looking down. She’ll be back, he thought. Kess would come back someday. Did he want that? She had abandoned him, hadn’t she? Why couldn’t he hate her? Why couldn’t he at least resent her, feel the same way he had felt when his parents had left him with Meb?

That’s when the answer hit him.

Because this time, I can do something about it.

Kess didn’t hate him. She didn’t really want to abandon him. Somehow, deep inside, he knew that for a fact. She would be back someday. And when that day came, no matter what, he would be ready for it. He would hold her once more. He would protect her once more. And even more important than that, he wouldn’t let her get away again.

House Driskell

17 October 2017 - 12:20 AM

Minor House

Player Leadership Information
Handle: Daydam
OoC Account: Daydam
Contact: PM/Discord

General Information
House Name: Driskell
Classification: Minor
Colors: Pale yellow and black.
Socioeconomic Rating: 3.8
General Description: House Driskell has never been very powerful. Their head, Bayard Driskell, has kept them afloat thanks to a couple contracts with other minor houses from the Southern Dominance. His son Maximillian, however, has bigger plans than just “staying afloat”.

Character Information
Head: Bayard Driskell
Heir: Maximillian Driskell
Player Members:

Home & Wealth
Current Location: Port Tresteau, Southern Dominance
Ancestral Home: Port Tresteau, Southern Dominance
Financial Avenue: House Driskell gets their money from the fields; they trade some food and dyes, though most of their investments are dedicated to the production of liquors.

-Great houses– [Neutral]
-House Kressdan– [Ally] – House Driskell has been trading with Vahlian, head of House Kresssdan, for a long time. Vahlian has also become quite close to Maximillian Driskell, since the moment he was hired to be his tutor.
-House D'Orsay– [Positive] – Though there isn't much of a relationship between houses D'Orsay and Driskell yet, they expect their contract to be fruitful for both of them. They are also considering the posibility of extending the contract if the relationship proves indeed to be beneficial.

Driskell-Kressdan: House Kressdan buys House Driskell's liquors. Vahlian also used to offer his skills as a Soother in negotiations.
Driskell-D'Orsay: House D'Orsay has built a stable in a parcel on House Driskell's fields. House Driskell also gives them food for the horses in said stable, in exchange for D'Orsay's transportation services. That way, House D'Orsay can offer their services more easily to other houses in the Southern Dominance, though a carriage is required to be available at all times in the stables, in case a member of House Driskell needs to travel. A future extension to the agreement, allowing the construction of a racetrack in a parcel on House Driskell's fields, has been mentioned as a posibility, but is still under discussion.

Maximillian Driskell - Character Application

17 October 2017 - 12:00 AM

Noble Rioter

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Name/Handle: Daydam
Contact: PM/Discord/Fly all the way to Argentina to share some mate!

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Name: Maximillian Driskell
Type: Noble
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Place of Origin: Port Tresteau
Occupation: Negotiator/ wine enthusiast/ artist?
Relationship Status: Si

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Type of Powers: Misting
Metals Used: Zinc
Degree of Skill: Advanced
Status: Open

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Appearances are a fun game for Maximillian Driskell. The way he sees it, looking the right way or saying the right things can be just as effective as Rioting someone. Because of this, the 6 foot tall nobleman is always seen wearing white shirts and a vest. When outside, he also wears a black coat to keep his clothing from getting stained with ash.

Maximillian has small, dark brown eyes, a medium, defined nose and a small mouth with thin lips. He has the typical Driskell hair; light brown, wavy, really hard to keep under control. He keeps it short and his beard neatly trimmed, as he considers them the most recognizable aspect of his face, some kind of personal signature.

Max may not be the most athletic man, but he is quite fast and flexible. The bad thing is, he is no Pewterarm; Maximillian's steadiness is really poor and he tends to be very clumsy, which can easily lead to him crashing against walls, doors, and practically everything around him if he's not careful.

The young Rioter carries a small notebook with him wherever he goes. That notebook contains sketches of different places and people, with annotations about them.

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Max may show himself as a confident man, but on the inside he's very insecure. The young nobleman really cares about what others say about him, and has a constant need to prove himself to others. This is the main reason why he never shows anyone his sketchbook; he feels his drawings aren't good.

Max is a kind, caring person, who gets easily attached to others, though he is somewhat afraid of showing his feelings, too. He makes sure to show his true feelings only to those he truly feels he can trust.
Big social meetings terrify Max, specially when there's women involved. He has almost no experience talking to women, so having to do so gets him quite nervous and leads to him being... well, himself. His clumsiness really shows whenever he's nervous.

If there's one thing that Max loves, is avoiding fights. He recognizes he's not even half as good with a dueling cane as he is with words, so he does everything he can to get away from situations by simply talking. He may not admit it, even to himself, but he's terrified of fighting. This, along with his fear of showing his feelings, is what makes him feel most like a coward. He hates himself for that.

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Special Skills: Observing, quick thinking, manipulating, annoying Seekers.

Strengths: Maximillian can be really good with words, which, supported by his skills as a Rioter, helps him manipulate others with little effort. He also enjoys using his powers in ingenious ways to annoy Seekers. Blame that on his father!

Weaknesses: Even though he is good with words normally, social meetings make Max really anxious. His dancing skills are worse than non-existant, mostly due to his clumsiness, and he is greatly affected by what people say about him, even if he doesn't show it.
Max is really uncoordinated. He tries to do many things at the same time, and ends up causing total chaos wherever he goes.

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Maximillian Driskell was born in 897 in Port Tresteau. His father, Bayard Driskell, was a talented Seeker, though not many people knew this. He wasn't a particularly caring father; his work kept him away from the house most of the time, and he didn't pay much attention to Max when he got back home. Max's mother, Felicia, on the other side, was really kind to him, though she had a serious obsession with appearances. As a result of this, the boy had to be impeccable at all times, otherwise he would get punished. Yet, that didn't stop him from wandering away from the house for hours and coming back covered in dirt from having tripped and fallen, since he was really clumsy.

By the age of 10, Max had become really interested in art; living at Port Tresteau gave the boy lots of interesting scenes to draw. He would sit for hours, either inside the house or outside, drawing sketches in a small notebook. Sadly for him, his father didn't approve of his attraction to art, as he said it would distract him from doing his labors as heir to the House.

It was at that age that Maximillian was tested for Allomancy. He wasn't really interested in becoming an Allomancer, as he thought he would most probably be a Seeker like his father. The beatings were brutal, but Bayard didn't care. He only cared about his son being useful as a heir. Felicia was totally different; she barely dared to look at Max during the beatings, and whenever she did, she would instantly flinch and start crying silently. Max saw Bayard turn toward her and say something, but he couldn't hear them. He could only see. He saw his father, standing with his back straight, looking at him with that cold look of his. He saw his mother, looking away, crying. He saw his own tears filling his eyes, making his vision blurry. And then, he saw nothing at all.

Max woke up several days later and found out he was a Rioter. As soon as he recovered from the beatings, his father got him a tutor to teach him not only about his Allomancy, but also about everything he needed to know in order to be a decent House Lord someday. The tutor, a middle-aged Soother from Vetitan named Vahlian Kressdan, was a minor nobleman who had some trading contracts with House Driskell. The kind, smart nobleman quickly became a role model to Max as well as a close friend, even though Bayard said he was "only half as good a nobleman as he is an Allomancer". But again, that was Bayard. Nobody was good enough for him, not even his own son.

Maximillian's lessons with Vahlian quickly made him realise the importance of appearances. That was when he started paying more attention to his mother, dressing more like a gentleman and trying to show himself as a mature young nobleman -Well, not really a noble man yet, since he was only 12-. His clumsiness proved to be a terrible problem, though, since he would often get distracted and trip over stuff or hit himself against doorframes, walls, trees, and practically anything that wasn't educated enough to move out of his way. As a result, he ended ruining lots of suits, so he went back to using more informal clothes for a couple years, despite his mother's constant scoldings about his lack of grace.

Max proved to be a really smart man. By the age of fifteen, he knew almost everything about the work in the fields and the distillery, contracts, noble houses from the regions, and -naturally- the dangers of living in a place that was constantly being raided by pirates. His father had hired a group of guards to protect his inversions from them, but by the time Max turned eighteen, he had a different idea. He was, after all, an expert manipulator.

"You did what?" Bayard's voice echoed through the study. Max froze, surprised. He was so sure of his plan, but now it seemed like one of his stupidest ideas.

"I made a deal with them, father. They won't bother us any longer, as long as we give them just a tiny part of -"
"I DON'T CARE IF WE GIVE THEM A DROP OF LIQUOR OR OUR WHOLE DISTILLERY!" Bayard's face was red. Maximillian's, on the other side of the study, was as pale as if he had just seen a mistwraith. "I'm not giving anything to those criminals. That's exactly why I spend so much money on guards."

"Father, hiring that many guards cost us three times the money I spend by bribing away the pirates. I just thought-"

"You thought wrong. Lord Ruler, if that's how you're planning to be useful to this House, then I hope I can somehow get a new heir. Boy, you are really stupid." Boy. Max hated that word. It was as if his own father was ashamed of calling him son. He wasn't Max, not even Maximillian. He was just the boy.

"Get out. Now. And you better get locked up in your room and study for the rest of the week, or I'll personally make you Snap again." And with that, the talk was over. Max turned around and walked to his room, frustrated. A part of him still told him that he had done what was best for his House, but his father's words haunted him. They always did.

Max locked the door behind him and went straight to his desk. He didn't even look at his books; instead, he took his small sketchbook from a pocket in his vest, and started drawing on it. It wouldn't be his best sketch, since his hands were trembling from his conversation with his father, but he just needed to do something to calm himself down. I'm not giving anything to those criminals. He was wrong, and Max knew it. Why couldn't he just admit it? If that's how you're planning to be useful to this House, then I hope I can somehow get a new heir. He was useful. He knew it. He was smart, calculating, and manipulative. But still, his father couldn't see him as anything more than a failure. He needed to prove he would be a good House Lord someday. He would be better than his own father.

He finally finished his sketch. It depicted a pirate, slightly older than him, with a smirk on his face and a bottle of liquor in his left hand. Max felt better, though he was still trembling a little. It's definitely not my best work, he thought, closing his sketchbook and putting it back in his pocket. He picked up a book and started studying. He needed to find a way to show his father he was good enough.

At the age of twenty one, the idea hit him; he would go to Luthadel to find new allies. That way, he would finally prove his father how good he was. The thing was, he had to convince Bayard. Even worse, he would have to go to balls and talk to the people. Only thinking of that terrified him, and made his mother's voice appear softly in the back of his head. You don't look like a nobleman, you don't act like one either. What are they going to think of you? He would prove her wrong. He had to. But every time he thought of big social meetings, a part of him started screaming, telling him to run away. He was excellent with words when in small business meetings, but facing many people at once made his mind go blank. Specially women. He had talked to one just once before. He had been sixteen by then, and his father had taken him to his first ball. He didn't remember much; he was talking to a young lady -or at least trying to-, and all the sudden he lost his balance and dropped his wine on the young woman's dress. Everything he could remember after that was his father's voice, scolding him for running away from the place.

But that all didn't matter right now. He had to do it. He would go to Luthadel, make new allies, and show his family he could be a good House Lord.

It's showtime.

"Come in, boy". Boy. He just couldn't call him son. Max opened the door to his father's study and stepped in. Bayard was looking through the window, his back turned towards the door. He didn't even bother looking at his son before speaking again. "What do you want?"

Max hesitated, looking down. He had gone through this conversation a thousand times in his head, but he was feeling really nervous now. Talking to his father used to do that to him.

"Well? Are you going to speak, or are you here to make me lose my time?" The big man had turned toward his son, his face unreadable. The tall man looked regal in his suit. Max looked at his father in the eyes, and found the words he was looking for.

"I'm leaving, father".

Bayard didn't react. "Leaving? And where are you leaving, ex-"

"To Luthadel. I'm going to find new allies".

The old nobleman looked at his son, incredulous. "Allies? We have more than enough here. And why do you think I would let you go?"

Max looked away, trying to find the courage to say what he had truly come to say. Finally, he looked at his father, feeling reassured. He would prove him how good he was. He burned zinc, and slightly touched on his father's emotions. Now you'll see.

"We're losing our power. I've been thinking through this. Food? Dyes? There are lots of houses who can offer that. Our distilleries are the best thing we have, but House Fathvell is much more powerful than us, and their alliance with House Lekal gives them an even bigger advantage. If we want to become more powerful, we only have two options. Either we forge an alliance with them, or we somehow drive them out of business. Either way, we need to move, and Luthadel is our best shot".

Bayard looked at his son, stupefied. He just stayed there, eyes wide open, staring at him. Suddenly, he seemed to relax, and a smirk appeared on his face. "You almost got me, kid. You are a good Rioter, I’ll give you that, but you forget who I am. Have you forgotten I'm a Seeker, or are you stupid enough to try and Riot me anyway?"

Max chuckled. He stopped touching his father's emotions, but kept his zinc burning lightly. "Maybe I am stupid. But I bet you're still thinking of what I just told you. You called me stupid a couple years ago, yet you still give liquor to the pirates. And at this moment, you know I'm right once again".

Bayard's face grew red with anger. "You really are stupid, then. If you want to convince me of something, do it without Rioting me, or just leave me alone!"

Maximillian smirked, making his father even angrier. "That's why you're letting me go. I am really good at manipulating people".

"What do you-"

"I stopped Rioting you as soon as you noticed it, dad. But you kept feeling the same way, because deep down you knew I was right". Bayard tried to hide his surprise, but failed miserably. "Just imagine. If I can play with your mind like this, what could I do to others? Younger noblemen, less experienced, who don't even know who or what I am. Besides, I'll be far away from here, which means you won't see me for quite a while. Everybody wins". His father was completely shocked, frozen in place. I'll have to draw this later, or I'll forget it ever happened, he thought. "If you need me, I'll be packing my things".

Max turned around, still smiling, and got out of the room, leaving his father alone with his thoughts. He looked at his hands. Stop shaking, you fool, he told himself, you made it. Now we get ready and wait. He walked to his room and started packing, still shaking. He had faced his father. He had manipulated him. And he had succeeded. He smiled to himself. Now, the real show begins.

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“I’m sorry, Max, I just can’t believe that” Vahlian Kressdan said, smiling. Maximillian Driskell walked through the field by his side. He had decided to make a stop in Vetitan and visit Vahlian before heading to Luthadel.

“I’m telling you, he was petrified. Look, I drew it right here”, he said, stopping to take out his small sketchbook from one of his pockets. Max didn’t show anyone his drawings. Vahlian was the only one he trusted enough to do so.

He opened his sketchbook, looking for the right drawing. Most of the pages were filled with quick sketches of people he had met, next to personal notes on them. A fat, round-nosed nobleman from Garthwood, a skaa working at the fields, a pirate, Vahlian himself, and many more. Finally, Max found what he was looking for. The sketch depicted a big man with a mixture of anger and surprise on his face, his long, wavy hair a total mess. He seemed much weaker than normal. Next to the drawing, there was a single sentence: “I’m going to Luthadel, father”.

Vahlian leaned toward the sketchbook, looking at the picture. He took a step back and looked at Max. “You really did it. I… I can’t believe it”.

Max grinned. “You shouldn’t be so surprised. It was you, after all, that gave me the idea of looking for new allies”.

“Well, yes, but I didn’t expect you to go so far!” Vahlian looked astonished, but there was a hint of happiness in his voice.

“You know me, Vahlian. I always exceed expectations”. Both men looked at each other for a couple seconds, and started laughing. They started walking again, towards Maximillian’s carriage. As they reached it, the middle-aged man stopped again, looking at Max, his expression saddened.

“Be careful out there, Max”, he said. Suddenly, he started smiling again. “And don’t worry, I’ll stay here, making sure your father doesn’t get a new heir or burn down his own fields to avoid being robbed while you’re not here”.

Max chuckled, and looked back at the fields, smiling. “Thank you, friend. I’ll make sure to write to you and tell you how I’m doing”. He hopped into the carriage.

“I hope so. And include some of your drawings!”

Max looked back as the carriage started. I’ll miss this place, he thought to himself.

Maximillian woke up. His back hurt, and he felt dizzy. How long had he been sleeping? He took a moment to recompose himself, and looked out the window. It was dark outside. Well, that answers one question. I slept a lot. Now, where-

A great wall extended before him. Luthadel, he thought. Finally. A wave of excitement hit him, though he was also getting a bit nervous. What would it be like? He had heard the stories; big buildings, incredibly beautiful keeps, and that giant palace in the middle, the Hill of the Thousand Spires. Kredik Shaw. He wanted to run into the city and walk everywhere, visit every street, every corner. That part of his childhood hadn’t died, it seemed. He still was an explorer.

The carriage stopped by the Iron Gate, but started moving again just a minute later. The stone buildings in the hotel district ahead caught his attention, and he found himself worried once again; where was he going to stay? There were many more hotels than he had expected, and many people coming in and out of them. Nice, he thought. Not even my first ball, and I’m already getting nervous. Lord Ruler, this is going to be tough.

Max peeked out of the carriage and looked at the coachman. “Where do you recommend me to stay?” Suddenly, he flinched. He had said that much louder than he had wanted to. The coachman, however, didn’t seem to have heard him. Max blushed as he saw a bunch of people turning to look at him, and sank into his seat, peaking through the window from time to time. Well, I hope Kredik Shaw has a room for me, because this thing won’t st-

The carriage stopped.

The door suddenly opened, and the coachman appeared next to it. “We’ve arrived, sir”.

Max hesitated, but stepped outside. He was in front of a small hotel. The coachman looked at him. “Is everything alright, sir?”
“I… Where are we, exactly?”

“At the Rosy Sunrise. I told you about this place when you asked me. Nice place, with a very good selection of wines.”

“Wait, you did?” Max felt stupid. It seemed the coachman had heard him, after all. “Lord Ruler... I guess the city overwhelmed me for a moment”. Yeah, the city. Not the people looking at me. Definitely not.

“You should check in. I’ll take your things inside”.

And with that, Max started walking toward the hotel. He was a little nervous, and he still felt really stupid. But he had arrived. There’s no going back, he thought, feeling a surge of confidence. He closed his eyes. It’s showt-

A loud thud echoed in the reception room as Max crashed face first against the doorframe. He cursed quietly, then hesitated. That’s it, I’ll go to a different hotel, he thought. No, that would make me seem even more stupid. “Hello, I’d like to check in, you can go pick up my stuff at the Rosy Whatever, and please fetch me my blood while you're there, I think I left some on the doorframe”.

Max looked around him. People were chuckling or looking away. The coachman was in the verge of tears, making an unnatural effort not to laugh at him. Max sighed, then turned around and walked into the hotel, this time making sure not to hit anything else.