#IF YOU NEED TO RELY ON GEMSTONES TO MAKE YOUR ROCKS LOOK GOOD YOU DID IT WRONG | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

imogenwrites · 6 years ago

Text

Goblin’s Day Off

So I’m moving this piece to the retired list, no paying markets want to take it. I’ve found that whenever I write fantasy humour the reception is lukewarm. Not from my writer’s group or my friends or my husband, but from markets. Now, there could be a number of reasons for that, not the least that perhaps my fantasy comedy just isn’t that good.

Of course, I don’t think it’s bad. I love this story. However, It is hard, in a world that has the works of Terry Pratchett, to ever be truly satisfied when I work in this genre. His work, along with Douglas Adams’, are truly inspiration to me and I’m forever grateful I got to meet Adams and hear Pratchett talk before they were both taken from us, far too early.

In any case, perhaps you can glean a little bit of enjoyment from this, even if it’s not up to the standard of Pratchett, I like to think it’s a step along the way.

Grob Thraktar, the undisputed champion of my goblin army, who had slain more elves than the most mighty of human warriors, taken more heads than the savage hydra of eastern Hoflaiin, and who had once single handedly wrestled the giant sandwyrm of the Blasted Wastes into a pit of firedrakes, was also always the one who was most enthusiastic about suggestion night.

“Mistress,” he would say. “It has been far too long since we invaded the elven lands for slaves and gold,” or “Mistress, I believe that the ranger theocracy has stockpiled massive amounts of enchanted gemstones this month,” or “the hafling princess is travelling to the seventh kingdom to negotiate a new treaty and she believes her route is secret -- it is not.”

I could always rely on him to give the oomph my evil plans needed, is what I’m saying here, so when weekly suggestion night came around and Grob wasn’t there I was concerned.

“We could raid the shapeshifters?” Horgat said.

“Nah, we did that last month, they’re cleaned out,” Blorth replied.

“How about cursing the seventh house crystals?” Yurg suggested.

“They’ve been cursed for six generations, Yurg you blockhead, don’t you pay attention in history any more…”

“Where is Grob?” I asked, tapping my fingers on the glittering curve of my throne’s armrest, and interrupting a potentially hours long fight about the intricacies of seventh house history -- Urganth was something of a nut for the ancient texts and it was impossible to stop her once she got started.

Dozens of dark minions shifted nervously and tried to avoid my eyes.

“He… uh…” Blorth said. “Um…”

Blorth elbowed Yurg in the ribs, who hissed something at Urganth, who shook her head with wild eyes and made a face back at Blorth. I sucked at my teeth and set my expression to stern.

“Where. Is. Grob?” I repeated.

“Gone hiking,” Yurg blurted. “Up in the mountains near The Kingdom of Glass and Ice.”

I opened my mouth, frowning in confusion, tempted to blast the nearest goblin into smoke for being flippant with me, but I stopped when I remembered the last time I’d seen my lieutenant. In the caves beneath the palace, he’d been packing a large rucksack and chattering enthusiastically to one of the river-nymphs (I let them lurk in the underground river systems -- they kept the place clean and ate any heroes stupid enough to try to get to my seat of power by water) about… what was it again…? Belay ropes? Climbing?

The river nymph (who didn’t exactly have feet or legs and certainly couldn’t negotiate a hike up a mountain) had been politely bored, picking bits of human flesh out of her glittering teeth, as he nattered on.

“He has gone… hiking?” I said.

Blorth swallowed. “He says there’s a good climbing face on the left side of the mountain. Out of sight of the Ice Queen’s flying capybara nest.”

I frowned. The Ice Queen and I were cordial these days, ever since we’d joined forces to defeat the armies of the Light last summer, but we didn’t exactly talk regularly, and she had made it quite clear that trespassers near her mountain would be treated as invaders and given to her latest abominable creations for dinner -- or turned into one, depending on her mood.

“Fetch my chariot,” I said to Yurg. “I need to talk to the Ice Queen before Grob does something stupid and gets himself eaten.”

The Dread Wolves who pulled my chariot were annoyed at being woken and not afraid to let me know about it as Yorg and Blorth adjusted their harnesses. Fido even nipped at me when I climbed into the padded seat and I gave him a sharp clip across the ear before ruffling his fur to let him know that he really shouldn’t be upset at the chance to do some running. He whuffed a doggy breath at me and licked my hand, so I fetched an elf ear from my treat pack for him to chew on while the last of the harnesses were checked for safety.

“Do you want us to come with you, Mistress?” Blorth said. “I’ve heard there are orcs in the passes again.”

I shrugged. Orcs were relatively harmless and scared of Dread Wolves to the point of soiling themselves whenever they saw them, so I wasn’t too worried about being beset by anyone else’s dark minions on the relatively short journey to the Ice Palace.

“Put a few curse globes in the glove compartment,” I said. “They’ll do to get rid of any orcs stupid enough to take me on.”

“Will do, Mistress,” Blorth said. I was quite looking forward to a trip outside, to be honest. The last few months I’d directed most of my schemes from my fortress, using the scrying crystal and my astral projection powers. Actually going outside had my blood pumping in ways I hadn’t really expected.

The wolves, once we started, cheered considerably -- they always forgot how much they loved to run when they were lying about being pampered at home -- and the spring air was cold and clean against my skin as we sped across the thawing snow towards the Ice Palace. A few orcs did eye me as I flew by, but none were bold enough to challenge me, and an old rock troll on the east bridge even gave me a cheery wave as I refused to pay his toll and knocked him into the abyss with a blast of kinetic magic. As such, I was in high spirits as my chariot approached the ice palace. Two Ice Constructs bade me halt at the massive double doors while they consulted their Mistress as to whether I would be allowed entrance. I was in such good spirits that I simply waited for them to assign servants to take care of the Dread Wolves and my chariot, and even climbed the stairs to the Ice Queen’s chambers without blasting any of her servants with fire magic.

“Callistra,” The Ice Queen greeted me from her own throne, spiky and made entirely of enchanted ice and glass. I’d always privately thought she went a little overboard with the whole ice theme, but then again I had never managed to find out what her major weakness was largely because of it. You’d think it would be fire, but it wasn’t, not that the fifty heads of firemage adventurers she kept in her victory gallery had ever managed to learn that, no matter that every single one of them, save the first, had taken it upon themselves to challenge her without checking if anyone had ever tried it before. “What brings you here? Are the armies of the light massing against us again?”

I shook my head, resisting the urge to adjust my dark crown where it sat on my cloud of black frizzed out hair.

Damn her, she always did look so elegant, and I’d been enjoying the wind outside so much that I hadn’t thought of how mussed I probably looked.

“No, no, Philandra, not at all. I’ve merely come to locate a misplaced goblin of mine. Wanted to check in and make sure you hadn’t eaten him or turned him into a flesh abomination, since he didn’t ask for permission to…”

“You mean Grob?” Philandra interrupted.

I blinked. “I… ah… yes. I do.”

A smile spread over her face, but it wasn’t cruel or pitiless. A small knot of worry loosened in my chest -- that was not the smile of the alchemical genius who warped the creatures of her kingdom into walking nightmares. No, it was a smile of fondness.

She waved a hand. “Oh, I’ve known about his little hobby for months,” she said. “He comes by to try the ice wall on the east side of the palace. Doesn’t do anyone any harm. The capybaras have started taking bets on whether he’ll make the top one day. He really is quite nimble, isn’t he?”

I nodded. Grob had once wielded the dual swords of Hrothgar and Thorn against an army of rangers so efficiently that he’d decapitated the grandson of King Luthriet the Magnificent, destroying any hope the armies of the light had of pushing back my encroaching darkness for at least another three generations. That he would turn such skill to… climbing walls was puzzling, but I would not begrudge him his hobbies.

“Well, then, it seems I’ve wasted a trip,” I said, huffing a little, although really I was in better spirits than I had been for months.

“Nonsense, darling,” Philandra said. “Join me for dinner and a glass of wine, we must catch up.”

The meal passed pleasantly, aside from periodic sounds coming from the wall of the banquet hall. The castle was imbedded in the mountain and the wall was rugged, unhewn stone, studded here and there with the glittering jewels that were the source of much of Phillandra’s wealth. When I enquired as to the noises she waved a hand. “Miners,” she said. “Inconvenient but necessary. They are usually far deeper in the mountain but we recently discovered a rich vein of ore that runs directly behind this hall.”

I raised my eyebrows, tucking that information away for future use.

Grob broke through the wall a little under an hour later, while we were enjoying a poached fish course that was simply divine. His roar of triumph and challenge faltered when he saw us both sitting at the table, Phillandra’s fork half way to her mouth. The rest of my minions surged into the room around Grob, also roaring in challenge until they saw me and stopped.

“Mistress?” Grob stuttered. “What…?”

Phillandra surged to her feet. “Callistra!” she shouted. “Your deception is unparalleled and, quite frankly, rude!”

I dropped my wine glass and raised my hands, readying my magic.

The battle was fast and furious and of course, we were victorious. An attack on the Ice Palace would normally have been foolhardy, the approach was treacherous and guarded by Phillandra’s abominations, and the gates enchanted with all manner of rending spells.

Coming through the mines, though. That was a strategy that had the mark of Grob all over it. Of course he would have disguised his reconnaissance as the harmless hobby of a charming goblin, it was part of his brilliance.

Phillandra lay trapped in a spell of weaving, gagged but wild eyed. How delightful to discover that her weakness was something as simple as surprise. Her kingdom would now belong to me, I would have access to her science and machines, the opportunity to make abominations of my own. I was already thinking of ways to tweak their designs, Phillandra had always favoured the grotesque over strength and efficiency.

There was the small matter of my minions, however, and I turned to Grob and crossed my arms over my chest.

“You missed suggestion night,” I said.

He swallowed. “We wanted to surprise you, Mistress,” he said, and the goblins behind him started nodding. “We knew today was your birthday.”

I had forgotten. An unfamiliar feeling tickled my heart and I felt moisture prick behind my eyes.

“Oh Grob,” I said. “You always know what to get me.”

He grinned and scuffed his feet. “Your happiness is mine, Mistress.”

I tilted my head, considering him. In general, I preferred my paramours to be women, or at least human, but it had been some time since I had a consort, and truly, Grob was far superior to any of the sorry elves and humans with whom I had dallied in the past. True, he was hideously ugly, but magic could always take care of that, if he truly wished to match my own beauty.

Appearance was such a superficial thing on which to base a decision as important as this.

“Grob,” I said. “I do believe it’s time you were promoted.”

#the rejected #fantasy #fantasy short story #story #short story #my work

28 notes · View notes

muthary · 6 years ago

Text

Photosyntheticfox’s Questionnaire // PART 2

31. What do they identify as?

Genderfluid.

32. Do they have any allergies?

Nope! Nothing worth noting, except for maybe a plain response to seasonal pollens native to Vesuvia. That fades the longer they spend in Vesuvia though. Side note: they never just sneeze once, and hold their sneezes in. So when they sneeze, it sounds like tiny squeaks and their whole body jumps.

33. Do they have any other medical problems?

Just that they wear glasses! Such light eyes aren’t fit for the Vesuvian sun. They magic themselves better vision most of the time, but they definitely own frames.

34. What about mental health issues?

They show signs of depression, but not much else. It’s light after their revival because a lot of their trauma was forgotten.

35. What’s that personal hygiene regimen like?

Baths in the nighttime, sometimes midday, always with herbs, oils, and salts. They enjoy soaking in hot water and always wash their hair pretty frequently. They do shave and pluck their eyebrows, but usually on days blocked out for general self-care. Their hair takes up a lot of their time because of the braiding, plaiting, and hair jewelry. They brush their teeth and toothbrushes get replaced pretty frequently because of their heavy hand and sort of sharp teeth. They make their own soaps and body oils!

36. Favorite rock or gemstone?

Probably clear quartz for is universal use. Rose quartz as a close second because it’s pretty and helps them calm down.

37. Favorite tree?

Alder!

38. Favorite type of weather?

Quiet, crisp, misty mornings. The quiet sort where the fog is sort of thick and is good to hide in. During that sort of weather, anyone would have a hard time tracking Diorbhail down, since they’ll be the first person out on a day like that. If they could have it their way, there would be whole days like this, and they’d be the only person around for miles.

39. Least favorite type of weather?

Violent snowstorms.

40. What is their favorite season? (remember winter is summer and spring is fall)

They hated getting used to Vesuvian seasons. To keep their head from spinning, they still maintain that their favorite season is autumn, or at least when the weather is more on the cold side than the hot side, when the leaves change color, and when it’s time for Samhain.

41. How many languages could they speak before the memory loss? How many do they currently speak?

For ease, before the memory loss, they could speak “common” (the language everyone in Vesuvia seems to speak), gaeilge, and old norse. Gaeilge is only really spoken by the aos sí these days. After the memory loss, they still speak “common”, and because Asra attempted to reteach them their native languages from old books they had in those languages (as someone who could not understand a lick of any of them), Diorbhail has shaky, but sort of instinctual grasp on those other two languages. They can’t carry a conversation like they used to, but they’ll still use runes.

42. Do they sing or play any instruments?

They have a very soft, tremulous sort of voice that they used to sing old songs from their home country. Poetic Edda and old folk songs are what they’re good at. They’ve got a good voice for lullabies! As for instruments, they play an ocarina and a fiddle. The talent for the ocarina sprouted from the time they spent playing with reed whistles in the forest.

43. What do they tend to joke about?

Nothing much. Sarcasm tends to rely on other people to work. They do like to tell old folktales and laugh about them because who on Earth thought that putting on a hat backward would keep you from getting taken away by fairies!

44. After a stressful day how do they relax?

A bath, incense, and a nap until they wake up near midnight, get a snack or a drink, and fall right back asleep!

45. Guilty pleasures?

They collect bones-- Animals bones, that is. Sometimes they’ll buy them, sometimes they’ll find in the forest already cleaned, sometimes they’ll visit a rotting corpse until it’s done decomposing and they can clean the bones left behind. Their room holds their collection. They’re used to odd looks whenever it’s somehow brought up, so they don’t ever discuss it with anyone. A bit more acceptable but still something they don’t like sharing: they have stuffed animal parts they keep, like tails and a rabbit paw. For charm reasons. The coyote tail and pelt they have on their person are things they made.

46. idiosyncrasies?

They can wriggle their ears without using their hands or changing their facial expressions! They also seem to be a very disorganized person but in a mess of random stuff, they know where every single thing is, or at least it’s general location. They notice the smallest bug or animal no matter where it is, as if they can hear the little larvae beneath the dirt as they wriggle around. They have a habit of staring, sometimes at people, sometimes at barren corners, and they space out while doing this. Lastly, they’ve got no issue with gore.

47. How do they act when they first meet someone new? How quickly do they warm up to them?

At first, they’re quiet, observant, and very careful. Since they tend to have impeccable instinct, they’ll decide whether they want to continue talking to someone within the first couple minutes of speaking to them. If they decide they sense something off or annoying about someone, they’ll become terribly passive-aggressive and prickly to drive them off. If they decide someone is worth keeping around, they’ll enjoy friendly conversation, but it’ll take months or a year before they’re comfortable with a hug. Of course, there are outliers, but this is the general pattern they go through. Once they’re close enough to someone, they’re a big proponent of physical affection.

48. In what order would they prioritize Love, fame, money, power, and knowledge?

Knowledge, love, power, money, fame.

49. List four or more things they love to do

Sleep, nature walk/explore, forage in the woods, sculpt, weave, and read.

50. List four or more things they hate to do

Go to crowded places (this includes parties), argue with people, speak or sing in front of a large group of people, or organize themself according to someone else’s standards.

51. List five or more things they have said that sum up who they are

“Julian, you’ve got three seconds to get off your sorry arse before I haul you up myself.”

“I’ve grown real sick and tired of running around for others all the damn time.”

“I’m fine. Stop asking.”

“You can always choose your family.”

“Of course he’s bitter. Who would like coming back as a shriveled, hideous old goat man who’s missing an arm? Although, I suppose it isn’t much different from how he was in life.”

“Keep staring at me like that and I’ll show you how savage I can be.”

52. How do they react to (both verbal and physical) conflict?

Verbal conflict they don’t care for. They’d rather avoid it because it’s always a lot of hot air flying about. Physical conflict they’ll avoid as well, but if they must be involved, they won’t lose. They’re a bundle of brute force and stubbornness.

53. What kind of bad habits to they have?

They mumble to themself when doing everyday things and bite their nails when they’re nervous or just idle.

54. What kind of character faults do they have?

They’re stubborn and unwilling to accept help, especially for things involving their personal life. They’re also self-sacrificial and can be very rude for the sake of ending a conversation immediately, or keeping someone from getting too invested in them. In very specific situations, when they begin to see red, they don’t listen to anyone and may even lash out at anyone who may stand in their way, even if they only intend to bring Diorbhail back down to earth before they can hurt themself.

55. What’s their best trait in their opinion?

That they aren’t dependent on others. This is a misperception of themself though, since they do sometimes need others so they don’t self-destruct.

56. What do they think of their appearance?

They think they’re the most drab thing out there. If you said they were cute, they’d instantly deny and change the subject. They don’t like talking about themself. They also get a little self-conscious about their scars when someone points them out.

57. How do they interact with people in a position of authority?

Very tentatively, but they never show belly. If they deem that this person is a moron and undeserving of their authority, they’ll quickly begin acting defiantly and coldly. They never follow someone’s orders blindly.

58. Who did they look up to as a kid?

A curious fellow named Buile Suibhne. He healed their wounds when they were a child, and taught them to hunt and steal and listen to the trees.

59. How do they interact with kids?

They're quite motherly! Very patient and playful with children. They’ll tell stories and teach them new things, too, like weaving or writing or natural correspondences.

60. Do they want kids of their own someday?

They worry if they’d make a good parent, but one day they might like a child. Two at the most. They sort of flip flop between daydreaming of a distant future and being convinced they’d ruin their child so they should just die an old, lonely crone.

61. Are they religious? If so what god/goddess or gods/goddesses do they worship?

They’ve interacted personally with the entities they pay their respects too, so yes. A lot of their magic is done with specific correspondences to spirits and gods, and they celebrate sabbats in the name of their corresponding deity. They worship Celtic and Norse gods, and reference them plenty whenever they feel that those gods are near.

62. What do they think the meaning of life is?

Just to exist. There is no ultimate goal to life. It’s just to exist and be a part of nature as you would.

63. What would they want their last words to be?

“We’ll meet each other again. Take care of yourself.”

64. What do they want to do before they die?

Return home to the forest they grew up in.

65. What/how do they want to be remembered for after they die?

A kind friend. A free spirit. Aside from this, they wouldn’t mind being forgotten.

66. How do they express affection?

In small gifts, in taking others needs into account, or in physical affection like hugs and kisses to the cheek or forehead.

67. What do they normally eat for breakfast?

Nothing! But if anything, bread and juice. They like a good croissant in the morning.

68. Do they like spicy food?

Yeah! They put hot sauce over their rice. You couldn’t really get spicy food where they’re from, so Vesuvia really opened their eyes to spice. They’re immune to capsaicin now.

69. Favorite fruit and or vegetable?

Diorbhail’s favorite fruit is a banana! Again, they only got to try one after getting to Vesuvia. Their favorite vegetable is a carrot.

70. Do they like sweets?

Yeah! They’re sorta picky about what sweets they eat, though.

#apprentice:diorbhail #the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana mc #fan apprentice

3 notes · View notes

preservationandruin · 7 years ago

Text

Oathbringer Liveblog Part Two; Chapters 44-48

Sorry for the delays! I have a life and it is busy.

Shallan seems to bond with another Radiant a little, we look in at Bridge Four new and old, Jasnah talks with Ivory, and we get a view into what’s going on in Alethkar.

The epigraph mentions that the writer has “many realms”--that’s interesting. Also they’re either speaking for a group of people or using the royal We--both are possible.

Anyway, Veil is lounging around with her boots up on a table. Also, we get a slang word-- deevy, meaning pretty cool, and Ishnah is trying to teach the dudes of Shallan’s gang how to be spies while Veil peoplewatches and drinks. We also get that “she’s grown some nice rockbuds” might be slang for “she has nice tits.” This information is courtesy of Gaz. Ishnah has them try to repeat people they saw in the tavern without looking again; when it’s Veil’s turn, she rattles off a long list of information. Veil is so absorbed in this that she almost forgets one of Shallan’s meetings.

One day, someone might realize that they never see Veil and Shallan in the same place. Of course, Shallan can fix that with illusions, but the question is if she’ll think to before someone catches that particular wrinkle. Interestingly, the personas are getting more distinct--Shallan is irritated at how much Veil drinks, Veil thinks Shallan’s preoccupation with scholarly questions gets nothing done.

Anyway, there’s a meeting going on in the library, including May Aladar, who I still like, and a bunch of other scribes and learned people. Shallan also got so caught up in thinking about Veil that she basically just froze in the doorway for a few moments. Shallan, this way of life is interesting, but it’s going to become unsustainable soon.

The woman’s arrogance was what Shallan didn’t like--not, of course, that Adolin had been courting Janala soon before meeting Shallan. She had once tried to avoid Adolin’s former romantic partners, but...well, that was like trying to avoid soldiers on a battlefield. They were just kind of everywhere.

In case anyone forgot about Adolin Kholin’s train wreck love life. Anyway, Shallan almost considers that she might need another persona to deal with scholarly stuff and then starts panicking--because isn’t that who she is? Isn’t Shallan the scholar?

She’s starting to fracture.

Anyway, Renarin was sent to listen to the meeting--he’s clearly very uncomfortable, stimming and perched nervously on his seat. He noticed something important, but when he pointed it out everyone started lowkey mocking him--and Shallan got indignant for his sake.

“Surely, Janala, you didn’t just try to insult the son of the highprince.” “What? No, no of course I didn’t.” “Good,” Shallan said. “Because if you had been trying to insult him, you did a terrible job.”

She proceeds to viciously drag Janala. Unfortunately, Navani was probably going to do it better, and this does get her another Jasnah lecture. Anyway, Renarin seeks her out to say thank you, and also is surprised and happy that he can see Pattern--because Pattern can’t go invisible, just blend into things.

“Thank you.” “For?” “Defending my honor. When Adolin does that, someone usually gets stabbed. Your way was pleasanter.” “Well, nobody should take that tone with you. They wouldn’t dare do it to Adolin.”

I am here for the pair of them getting to be on better terms. Anyway, they’re both feeling that the gemstone center powers the entire city as a fabrial. He also gives her some tips on avoiding getting infuriated by Jasnah. Surge of Illumination Bros.

And Dalinar came to listen too--because he didn’t want Renarin to feel awkward. Nobody will make fun of Renarin for being “unmanly” for being there if the Blackthorn is also doing it.

...Back to Moash. Great. He’s basically being kept as a slave, now, by the parshmen. The Parshmen are giving out work to the humans--including the lighteyes, something that Moash relishes a little. He finds Guff, an old caravaneer who he knew. He finds a group in resistance--and realizes that even there, the lighteyes are still in charge.

He wasn’t broken. All of them were broken. Alethi society--lighteyed and dark. Maybe all of humankind.

Gang, I think Moash is having a bit of either an existential crisis. He just doesn’t react to anything, and signs himself up for the worst job he possibly can. That...doesn’t bode well. I’m worrying that he’s leaning toward a “so let me be evil” moment.

Over to actual Bridge Four, with Skar! He’s irritated--out of all of them, only him, Dabbid, and Rlain haven’t been able to draw in Stormlight, and he’s trying to push himself harder. Anyway, Sigzil is trying to logic out Lashings; Drehy has gotten it down, and they’ve been practicing racing with Stormlight--Drehy beat Lopen, who had the previous best time.

“You stopped for food on the way, Leyten.” Sigzil said. “Even Rock beat your time, and he was skipping like a girl the last third.” “Was Horneater dance of victory,” Rock said from near Leyten. “Is very manly.”

I. adore Bridge Four. Also, they’ve started explaining their pasts to each other; Skar explains that he tried to get into the army, but they wouldn’t take him because he was a “runt.” He’d tried to steal their armor to get in, and got branded as a slave.

Teft was an addict. Drehy had struck an officer. Eth had been caught planning to desert with his brother. Even simple Hobber had been part of a drunken brawl.

Anyway, Kaladin’s late, which irritates them. He does show up, though, with more hopefuls.

Kal: it feels wrong, having lighteyes at bridge four skar: other than you, and renarin, and any of us if we win Blades, and Rock technically is a lighteyes with his people-- Kal: fine i get your point

Skar points out that with Bridge Four, good-natured ribbing is the norm and what you have to watch out for is when they’re not being assholes. He and Lyn start commiserating about how much they want to be out there, being able to fight and fly with the others. He gives her a speech--a pep talk of sorts--and she actually manages it, becoming the first female Windrunner Squire of the group. He also realizes--he did something similar for Rock. He is about to go say that he’s going to join Rock’s cook crew--and Rock lets him get halfway through before he points out that Skar is glowing.

I! LOVE! BRIDGE! FOUR!

And, apparently, we’re at Taln now. Interesting. We get his whole prepared speech--teach you to forge bronze, soulcast metal, So much is lost between Returns.

Okay, we were at Jasnah--she’s reading over Taln’s words. Ivory is with her--we get more of a description of him. He’s dressed in a formal suit, and is jet-black with slight prismatic elements to him. His features are too angular to be human, more like a statue. Jasnah feels like she’s losing her footing--things she spent her life slaving away at are now common knowledge, like the Parshmen being Voidbringers.

We get a glimpse into what might have started breaking Jasnah.

Something stirred deep within her. Glimmers of memory from a dark room, screaming her voice ragged. A childhood illness nobody else seemed to remember, for all it had done her. It had taught her that people she loved could still hurt her.

Jasnah is unsettled and haunted by the fact that the Heralds--Taln especially--have been driven mad, because she can always rely on her mind, “except once.” That’s probably important. Ivory is called an inkspren; it’s mentioned that Ivory’s generation basically had to raise themselves, as there were no elders around due to the Recreance. Also, he’s apparently the only inkspren to have bonded someone, marking Jasnah as the only current Elsecaller.

He had taken the name Ivory as a symbol of defiance. He was not what his kin said he was, and would not suffer what fate proclaimed.

I love him.

Some other notes: Jasnah thinks that Shallan might need more challenges, instead of more structure--and honestly, that’s probably a better way of handling Shallan. Also, the honorspren apparently once tried to rule Shadesmar. Spren politics, y’all.

And Jasnah mentions learning something from Wit--something Ivory insists will cause another Recreance. it’s the same secret that the Stormfather refuses to tell Dalinar, isn’t it.

Moash, again. The epigraph mentions that the speaker/s “stand in the sea, pleased with our domains.” He mentions that he’s one of the more enthusiastic workers, because honestly compared to bridge work the hard labor he’s doing is easy. Also, Moash is surprised that the Voidbringers actually treat their human slaves well. It’s calmed himself down, some. Unfortunately, he’s not really facing the facts here...

What happened at the Shattered Plains wasn’t my fault, he thought as he hauled the sledge. I was pushed into it. I can’t be blamed.

Sorry Moash, you can totally be blamed for that. You didn’t have to join the conspiracy. You didn’t have to keep going with it once Kaladin intervened. You didn’t have to stop going to stew nights, Moash, you broke yourself from Bridge Four long before you fought Kaladin.

Anyway, he’s realized they’re moving toward Kholinar. He’s starting to admire the Voidbringers, too--rationalizing that they were sent back because humanity didn’t deserve to govern itself. The only thing that mars his picture of the Parshmen as an efficient, more caring and humane version of the human armies--is the fact that they’re still keeping parshmen as slaves.

That’s...wow. The slave parshmen are treated worse than the human slaves.

Meet the new boss, same as the old boss, I guess. Apparently, that group ‘brought a false god into their group’ and the speaker looks up at the lfying Fused.

Oh, god. That’s Kaladin’s group. That’s the group that Kaladin travelled with, and they’re being punished for it. We haven’t seen the little girl, but--I’m hoping that she’s not there.

God, they didn’t fucking deserve that. Moash sees them whipping a fallen parshman from that group, and walks over, yelling at the parshmen to stop being like humans. He catches a whip meant to hit him, and tells the parshman to ride in the sledge to heal his feet, and takes his place.

There’s still a bit of Bridge Four left in the guy. A bit who isn’t willing to let the world be shitty without a bit of fighting back.

No one dared to again raise a whip against the parshmen crew the rest of the march.

#oathrbringer spoilers #stormlight archive liveblog #FUCK YEAH BRIDGE FOUR #ivory

13 notes · View notes

ryumikaidan · 6 years ago

Text

Part 4

(Kagetsu bursts out laughing.)

Aoki: What’s so funny?

Kagetsu: Those monkeys are so dumb! They dropped them right into where they wanted to go!

Aoki: ...Well, of course! Heh. (whispers) Our apologies to monkeys and other such primates everywhere for this portrayal.

(Scene: A swamp in the spirit realm. One by one, the group fall, screaming, into the bog with a splash. Ryumi is the first to recover, managing to regain her footing. She looks around for her friends.)

Ryumi: Shigeto? Hisaaki?

Shigeto: Ryumi!

Ryumi: Everybody okay?

Hisaaki: We didn’t die!

(Akako breaks the surface of the water, grabbing onto a floating log-like shape for support.)

Akako: Phew! We’re... We’re here!

Shigeto: Yeah. Good to know we all made it in one piece.

(Suddenly, the “log” Akako’s holding onto moves, rising out of the water. It’s not a log at all, but Maka’s extended neck. She raises her head out of the water.)

Maka: (groans) I’m in three pieces.

Shigeto: Hey, look who decided to come along after all!

Maka: I DIDN’T HAVE A CHOICE, ALRIGHT?!

Akako: So, where do we go from here?

Ryumi: Uh... (looks around) Good question.

Hisaaki: Yeah, how do we get out of here?

(As they talk, they don’t notice bubbles forming in the bog. A green-haired head pops out of the water, looking at them in curiosity.)

Shigeto: Don’t worry, guys. All we have to do is go in one direction, and we’ll be out eventually.

Maka: Do you always think from the seat of your pants?

Shigeto: I do my best, okay?

Maka: I wonder what your worst is like.

Akako: Maybe you could use your neck to mark the path! That way, we’ll know if we’re going in circles.

Maka: My eyes are in my head, you know! I can’t always see what my body’s doing. How am I gonna make it out of here whole?

Akako: Don’t worry. Once we’re out, we can go back in while your head stays, follow your neck to your body and lead it back to your head.

Maka: ...It’s still out of the question.

Ryumi: Well, there’s gotta be something we can do.

(Maka attempts to sit down on a rock - only, the “rock” is actually the green-haired being’s head.)

Green Being: D’AH!

Maka: AAAHHHHHH!!!

(As Maka jumps back up, the being in the water rises up to its full height, revealing itself as a girl in a green kimono. She is soaking wet from being in the bog, and cattails, lily pads and various other water weeds adorn her green hair.)

Swamp Girl: Hi.

(The group can only stare.)

Ryumi: ...Were you there the whole time?

Swamp Girl: Long enough to hear that you’re lost. Can I help?

Hisaaki: You, help us?

Akako: Sure!

Swamp Girl: Then, follow me! My friend’s house is just over yonder. He might help you reach civilization!

Maka: Wait just a minute. How do we know you’re not trying pull a fast one on us?

Swamp Girl: Any human friend of yokai is a friend of mine. C’mon! Step where I step, I know this place like the back of my hand! (looks at the back of her hand) ...That’s new.

(The five follow the swamp girl through the marsh.)

Swamp Girl: ...Anyway, my friend is a pretty smart guy! I mean, he graduated from the School for Talented Tanuki and everything. He’s also very… well-endowed. Then again, all tanuki are.

Shigeto: So, he’s a tanuki? Not some hideous ogre who lures human victims to his lair to munch on?

Swamp Girl: Oh no, even if he was an ogre or something like that, he would never hurt anyone, human or yokai! He’s a nice fella.

Shigeto: If you say so.

(They arrive at an old house.)

Swamp Girl: And here we are! It’s not much, but a home’s a home!

Ryumi: He lives here by himself?

Swamp Girl: Nah, he’s got plenty of housemates. (calls out) Hey guys! I got some newcomers here! C’mon out!

(Almost immediately, a bevvy of living objects -tsukumogami- come out from the various nooks and crannies of the house to greet the group, who, except for the swamp girl, are taken by surprise. From the front door, a short tanuki man emerges.)

Tanuki: Ah, Zurui. Good to see you again. Who have you brought here?

Zurui: I... have no idea. But they just came into the spirit realm, and now they need to get out of the swamp. Which is kinda a pity, ‘cause this is a really nice place.

Tanuki: (to the others) Well, welcome to the spirit realm. It would be a pleasure to help you out anytime.

Ryumi: Thanks!

Tanuki: Won’t you come in? My housemates love having guests.

Ryumi: Sure! (to the other four) C’mon, guys.

(The others comply, Maka doing so hesitantly.)

Kagetsu: What a nice guy.

(Aoki nods. Cut to the interior of the tanuki’s house. Everyone is seated at a chabudai table.)

Tanuki: It’s been a while since we’ve had guests from the other realm.

Ryumi: Thank you for your hospitality, Mr...

Tanuki: Mochiie.

Ryumi: Mochiie. Anyway, we’re looking for my grandfather. He’s a fox. Do you know where foxes live around here?

(Maka is clearly becoming increasingly uncomfortable at the staring eyes of a nearby mokumokuren.)

Mochiie: Unlike us tanukis, foxes prefer to live in or near the civilized areas in the spirit realm. Kaii Town, especially.

Shigeto: Kaii Town?

(Fed up, Maka gets up from her spot.)

Maka: I need a drink...

Mochiie: The capital city of the yokai.

(Maka walks through the house, looking for a drink. Along the way, she passes by varying tsukumogami, who are playing with each other, pulling pranks on one another, and generally messing around. None of them faze her one bit. She passes by a butsudan, and a nuribotoke pops out.)

Nuribotoke: OOGAH BOOGAH!

(Maka doesn’t even flinch. She simply closes the butsudan on him and continues searching.)

Maka: ...Gotta be one around here somewhere...

(A ghostly white hand hands her a bottle.)

Maka: Oh, thanks.

(She takes a swig... but then spits it back out, as it’s full of water. She looks at the bottle, actually a kameosa.)

Kameosa: Hydration is important!

(Maka stares for a moment, then glares at the being who gave her the kameosa, a kosode no te. Back with the others...)

Shigeto: So, which way is this Kaii Town, anyway?

Mochiie: Just keep heading northeast, and follow the sparrows. You’re guaranteed to reach it, then.

Ryumi: Thanks for the advice.

Shigeto: Yeah, we’ll remember that. Northeast.

Hisaaki: ...What was that about sparrows?

(Cut to Shina’s castle. Inside...)

Shina: YOU INCOMPETENT FRUIT-EATERS! You dropped them into the realm?!

(The sarugami cower behind their leader, who is also stiff with fear.)

Shina: Obviously, I shouldn’t rely on a bunch of monkeys. Now, where is she?

(Behind her, an ogress crashes in through a closed window with the sound of shattering glass. Shina whirls around at the noise.)

Shina: Kan...?

(The ogress, Kan, rises to her feet.)

Kan: Hey.

(Shina’s eye twitches.)

Kan: Sorry about the-

Shina: FORGET THAT! You’re late, as usual.

Kan: I prefer the term “fashionably late”. It makes me sound good. So, I take it your latest scheme to wipe out humanity with a rock isn’t going well?

Shina: What do you think?! (takes a moment to calm herself) Thanks to the stupidity of the last yokai I hired, (glares at the sarugami) Sana’s daughter and her friends have entered the realm. I want you to reach Nakaari first before they do.

Kan: Pfft. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of them and get the jewel for you. But it’s gonna cost ya.

(Shina sighs heavily. Cut to her opening a door to a room filled with piles and piles of gold, gemstones and priceless artifacts which have been taken from humans over the years.)

Kan: Now, that’s what I’m talking about.

Kagetsu: (whispers) Spoiler alert: She only gets one percent of that treasure.

Aoki: Kagetsu! (tries to silence Kagetsu, to no avail, since she’s a shadow)

Kagetsu: (still whispering) One... lousy... percent!

(Scene change to the quintet, making their way northeast.)

Shigeto: So, as long as we keep going in this direction, we’ll reach Kaii Town.

Hisaaki: Yeah, but “follow the sparrows”? What did he mean by that?

Maka: Living with a bunch of talking tools for who knows how long probably scrambled his brains.

Ryumi: Don’t insult him, Maka. I’m sure he knew what he was talking about when he said that.

Akako: Yeah! ...What she said.

(From the nearby bushes, Kan watches, hidden.)

Shigeto: Y’know, Maka, you really should show a little respect for others.

Maka: Hey, I got respect!

Hisaaki: For whom?

Maka: What’s it to ya?!

Shigeto: We just wanna know if you really do have some respect in you.

Maka: It’s nothing to do with you, kid!

Akako: It’s a romantic thing, right?

Maka: WHAT?!

Akako: (hides behind the bow on Ryumi’s head) Uh-oh.

(Maka stretches her neck towards Akako, who backs away.)

Maka: Don’t ever assume that I’m in some kinda sappy relationship, Kinoshita!

Akako: What’s wrong with that? You could find a guy who accepts you and your neck-

Maka: NO! ALL MEN ARE IDIOTS!

(Akako falls off of Ryumi’s head at Maka’s outburst.)

Shigeto: Uh, Maka? We’re standing right here.

(As Akako recovers from her fall, she notices a single strand of hair suspended horizontally across the path. From her hiding spot within the bushes, Kan watches intently.)

Kan: C’mon, red thing. Touch the hair...

(That is not what Akako does. Instead...)

Akako: Hey guys, is this natural?

(The others look.)

Maka: It’s the spirit realm. When is anything ever natural?

Akako: No, look! (indicates the hair)

(Ryumi crouches down to inspect the hair.)

Ryumi: It... It looks like hair.

Akako: Huh.

(She reaches out to touch it. In the bushes...)

Kan: Yes. Yes!

(Just as Akako is about to touch the hair, Ryumi stops her.)

Ryumi: Akako, don’t! Something’s not right, here.

(Kan facepalms.)

Shigeto: Let’s just step over it and move on.

Hisaaki: But what if that’s what whoever put this here wants?

Shigeto: In that case, you go first.

Hisaaki: Wh-

(Shigeto pushes him forward. Resigned, Hisaaki takes one cautious step over the hair, then another. To his surprise and relief, nothing happens.)

Shigeto: Well, it’s safe.

Ryumi: C’mon, guys.

(One by one, they step (or, in Akako’s case, hop) over the hair. When Shigeto is in the middle of stepping over, Kan suddenly jumps out of the bushes.)

Kan: YAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!

Group: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!

(The group immediately begin running, Shigeto breaking the hair in the process. This triggers a bamboo cage with spikes lining the insides to fall. Because Kan is standing where the group was, it falls on her.)

Hisaaki: What was that?! Who was that?!

Maka: Who cares?!

(Kan manages to break out of the cage, albeit with injuries from the spikes.)

Kan: That was the only plan I had! Shina’s not gonna like this... (thinks for a moment) ...unless she doesn’t find out.

(Suddenly, Shina’s voice rings out.)

Shina: Too late!

Kan: AUGH! S-Shina?! Where are you?

Shina: Check your right horn. I felt the need to monitor your progress.

(Kan does so, finding a spider with a crystal eye attached to its abdomen. It is through this “spyeder” that Shina is able to communicate from her castle.)

Kan: Oh, great. This trick again.

Shina: Just for you failure, you will only get one percent of what I offered you!

Kan: AW, C’MON!

(The crystal explodes, and the spider skitters away, unharmed.)

Kagetsu: Called it.

(In Shina’s castle, she storms through her corridors.)

Shina: That does it. I know who to send next, and this time, I’m going to personally provide assistance!

0 notes

2whatcom-blog · 6 years ago

Text

The Origin of Amethysts Might Depart You Tingly

"The stone is an amethyst; but I, the tipler Dionysus, say, 'Let it either persuade me to be sober, or let it learn to get drunk.'" –Plato the Younger I have to begin our foray into this month's birthstone with a confession: I did not assume amethyst can be thrilling. I discover it good however type of ho-hum. So I made a decision to go large and discover the origins of these huge amethyst geodes appropriate for making into bathtubs. Nevertheless, alongside the best way, I bought diverted by some very fascinating sides of amethysts, together with some fairly neato human historical past. So in in the present day's submit, we're truly not going to speak a lot about geodes in any respect. Imagine me once I say we'll get there quickly, although! Proper. So, everybody is aware of amethyst is a purple number of quartz, yeah? And we're used to it being ample and pretty cheap, apart from these jaw-dropping large geodes and a few actually fabulous artwork. So, it might shock you just a bit bit to be taught that gem-quality amethyst was thought-about simply as precious as rubies, celebrated in delusion and legend. Rhea the Titan gave it to Dionysus, god of wine, to protect his sanity from the vine. Royals and nobles sported it proudly. It even ended up in lots of a rustic's crown jewels. It remained an costly stone, reserved just for the lucky, proper up till ginormous deposits had been present in South America within the 1800s. As soon as these mines began producing, amethyst turned out there in copious portions, and now you should buy some very nice specimens for the worth of a gourmand espresso or few. Excellent news for individuals who desire a little bit of their birthstone for their very own selves, is not it? Even with out these sources, amethyst is pretty simple to trace down, even when gem-quality specimens are much less ample. It is discovered most locations the place quartz finally ends up: in each extrusive and intrusive igneous rocks, in metamorphosed rocks (particularly in alpine-type fissures), hydrothermal veins, rocks deposited by scorching springs, and even some sedimentary rocks. You want simply these fundamental elements for amethyst to kind: pockets or cavities appropriate for deposition, silica-enriched water round 50-250°C, a skosh of ferric iron (Fe³+), and gamma radiation. Yup. Identical radiation that creates your fundamental Unbelievable Hulks. As an alternative of the massive inexperienced man, they may've gone with purple and it might've been science. See, you'll be able to have clear quartz that has iron substituting for a number of the silica in its crystal lattice. It may need simply as a lot iron as amethyst does, however with out some good radiation, it will not exhibit its amethystine potential. However don't be concerned – it does not take Hulk-sized doses of gamma rays to kind our beautiful purple gems. Simply the pure bits will do, which is why amethyst is a lot extra ample in igneous than sedimentary rocks. Igneous rocks like basalt have hint quantities of radioactive minerals like radium 226, thorium 232, potassium 40, and uranium 238. Research have proven that the degrees of radiation inside these rocks is usually not sufficient to trigger people any well being considerations, but it surely's fairly sufficient to trigger the Fe³+ atoms to lose an electron and create that dazzling purple. That pretty purple, shading from the palest lilac to good deep violet and royal hues, is what provides amethyst its frequent identify. Historic Greeks thought it appeared fairly like wine, and from there flights of fancy took off and led them and the Romans to assume that possibly the gem may very well be used to thrust back drunkenness. So, they named it amethystos, the Koine Greek phrase for "not intoxicated." Folks would put on jewellery created from it, or drink from glasses carved from it. Likelihood is they bought drunk regardless, however not less than they did so in model. Should you look carefully at amethyst crystals, you may in all probability see that the guidelines are typically darker than the bases. We're fairly certain that is because of the iron combine within the water altering because the crystal slowly grows. When you have the fitting gear, you can see that the colorless or pale bits of the crystal haven't got a lot iron in, whereas the iron content material will increase as you get to the darker parts. There nonetheless will not be plenty of iron, although - possibly about ten to 100 elements per million. The bottom of the amethyst crystal given to me by my expensive associates Ziggy and Dali reveals the shading from clear to purple brought on by variations in iron content material. That little little bit of iron does some fairly wild issues to the colour relying on what kind of radiation it is uncovered to, and in what quantities. We have seen what gamma radiation does to it, however plain previous UV gentle can even have an impact. Should you go away your amethyst in daylight or underneath different UV sources for too lengthy, its colour will fade. And in the event you expose amethyst to warmth, you may see the colour fade as effectively. Generally, as a substitute of grey or clear crystal, you may find yourself with vivid yellows that look loads like citrine. The smartest little bit of this chameleon train, although, is in the event you can safely expose your amethyst to X-rays, you'll be able to return it to its unique purple hues. That could be a fairly nifty trick! That covers the fundamentals of those seemingly unusual however surprisingly extraordinary crystals. Subsequent, we'll go to an historic Egyptian amethyst quarry that equipped generations of Egyptians and Romans with beautiful purple gems, after which we'll journey to South America to find out how these further enormous geodes occur. References: Al-Zahrani, Jamilah (2017): Gamma Radiation Measurements of Naturally Occurring Radioactive in Igneous Rocks and Its Radiological Problems. World Journal of Nuclear Science and Expertise, vol. 7, concern 03, pp. 136-144 Dennen, William H. and Puckett, Anita M. (1972): On the Chemistry and Coloration of Amethyst. Canadian Mineralologist VoL 11, pp. 448-456 Gemological Institute of America: Amethyst and Amethyst Historical past and Lore (retrieved 2/28/2019) Geology.com: Amethyst: The world's hottest purple gemstone (retrieved 2/28/2019) Mindat.org: Amethyst (retrieved 2/28/2019) Sententiae Antiquae: Amethyst, the Sober Stone (retrieved 2/28/2019) The Quartz Web page: Amethyst (retrieved 2/28/2019) Voudouris, P. et al (2013): Amethyst occurrences in Tertiary volcanic rocks of Greece: mineralogical and genetic implications. Bulletin of the Geological Society of Greece, 47(1), 477-486. Voudouris, P. et al (2018): Amethyst Occurrences in Tertiary Volcanic Rocks of Greece: Mineralogical, Fluid Inclusion and Oxygen Isotope Constraints on Their Genesis. Minerals 8, no. 8: 324. Read the full article

#2what #2whatcom #amethyst #purple #rocks

0 notes

libralita · 8 years ago

Text

Reread Review!

Title: Words of Radiance

Author: Brandon Sanderson

Summary: Six years ago, the Assassin in White, a hireling of the inscrutable Parshendi, assassinated the Alethi king on the very night a treaty between men and Parshendi was being celebrated. So began the Vengeance Pact among the highprinces of Alethkar and the War of Reckoning against the Parshendi.

Now the Assassin is active again, murdering rulers all over the world of Roshar, using his baffling powers to thwart every bodyguard and elude all pursuers. Among his prime targets is Highprince Dalinar, widely considered the power behind the Alethi throne. His leading role in the war would seem reason enough, but the Assassin's master has much deeper motives.

Expected by his enemies to die the miserable death of a military slave, Kaladin survived to be given command of the royal bodyguards, a controversial first for a low-status "darkeyes." Now he must protect the king and Dalinar from every common peril as well as the distinctly uncommon threat of the Assassin, all while secretly struggling to master remarkable new powers that are somehow linked to his honorspren, Syl.

Brilliant but troubled Shallan strives along a parallel path. Despite being broken in ways she refuses to acknowledge, she bears a terrible burden: to somehow prevent the return of the legendary Voidbringers and the civilization-ending Desolation that will follow. The secrets she needs can be found at the Shattered Plains, but just arriving there proves more difficult than she could have imagined.

Meanwhile, at the heart of the Shattered Plains, the Parshendi are making an epochal decision. Hard pressed by years of Alethi attacks, their numbers ever shrinking, they are convinced by their war leader, Eshonai, to risk everything on a desperate gamble with the very supernatural forces they once fled. The possible consequences for Parshendi and humans alike, indeed, for Roshar itself, are as dangerous as they are incalculable.

Rating: ★★★★★

Original Review

Review:

“His eyes swung toward Amaram, whom he’d long fancied as a potential match for her.”—Page 19

Wait, really?

“Liss smiled, but nodded. ‘Spying on the wife of the heir to the throne? It will be more expensive this way. You sure you don’t simply want her dead?’”—Page 24

It’s probably best to spy on Aesudan, I don’t trust her.

“They were ambassadors from the West, including the Azish man with the white birthmark on his cheek.”—Page 26

Who is this man?

“‘So you came up on deck,’ Jasnah said, “to sketch pictures of young men working without their shirts on. You expected this to help your concentration?’”—Page 39

Stormfather, I love Jasnah.

“‘My mother,’ Jasnah said, ‘is a renowned artifabrian. I suspect she can make yours function again. We can send it to your brothers, who can turn it to its owners.’”—Page 44

I should have realized that this was too good to be true.

“Behind my brother’s infant son and Dalinar, my uncle.”—Jasnah, Page 46

Elhokar has a son, will he be important, later?

“When I first bonded with Ivory—”—Jasnah, Page 69

Important.

“Honor, who became Vorinism’s Almighty, was created by men who wanted a representation of ideal human emotions as they saw in emotion spren. Cultivation, the god worshipped in the West, is a female deity that is an embodiment of nature ant nature spren.”—Page 71

Cosmere stuff!

Also, the Nightwatcher is a powerful spren?

“The door to his sitting room opened, and Ialai slipped in.”—Page 89

I don’t trust Ialai, I’m sure she’s going to seek vengeance for husband’s death.

“The king wasn’t. He sighed lightly, ‘You’ve obviously got a plan, Uncle. Well? Out with it. This drama is tiring.’”—Page 97

He is a drama queen.

“Hmmmm…Light makes shadow. Truth makes lies. Hmmmm.”—Page 107, Pattern

I like this quote.

Seeing Jasnah die was just so sad.

“‘Please,’ Shallan said to the sphere. ‘I need you to become fire.’ Pattern buzzed, speaking with a new voice, interpreting the sphere’s words. ‘I am a stick,’ he said. He sounded satisfied. ‘You can be fire,’ Shallan said. ‘I am a stick.’ The stick was not particularly eloquent. She supposed that she shouldn’t be surprised. ‘Why don’t you become fire instead?’ ‘I am a stick.’ ‘How do I make it change?’ Shallan asked of Pattern. ‘Mm…I do not know. You must persuade it. Offer it truths, I think?’ He sounded agitated. ‘This place is dangerous for you. For us. Please. Speed.’ She looked back at the stick. ‘You want to burn.’ ‘I am a stick.’ ‘Think how much fun it would be?’ ‘I am a stick.’ ‘Stormlight,’ Shallan said. ‘You could have it! All that I’m holding.’ A paused. Finally. ‘I am a stick.’”—Page 144

This scene is great.

“Those eyes seemed old somehow, but the man’s skin didn’t seem wrinkled enough to match them. He could have been thirty-five. Or he could have been seventy.”—Page 242

Hi, Vasher, where’s Vivi?

“He stopped abruptly. ‘Pattern?’ she asked. ‘Before what?’ ‘A figure of speech.’ He said it perfectly flat, absent of tone. He was growing better and better at speaking like a person, and at times he sounded just like one. But now all of the color had gone from his voice. ‘You’re lying,’ she accused him, glancing at his pattern on the wall. He had shrunk, growing small at first, half his usual size. ‘Yes,’ he said reluctantly. ‘You’re a terrible liar,’ Shallan said, surprised at the realization. ‘Yes.’ ‘But you love lies!’ ‘So fascinating,’ he said. ‘You are all so fascinating.’”—Page 256

Pattern is so adorable.

“Hmmmm. You sound like her. More and more like her.”—Pattern, Page 256

Who?

“Niter,’ Zhael said. ‘What?’ Kaladin asked, frowning. ‘He was head of the Cobalt Guard before you,’ Zahel said. ‘He was a good man, and a friend.’”—Pages 262-263

Another worldhopper?

“You have a chip on your shoulder the size of a boulder.”—Dalinar to Kaladin, Page 294

Damn straight, Dalinar knows what’s up.

“He frowned, ‘What I’m having trouble understanding is why anyone would want to be closer to Sebarial than they need to be.’”—Page 445

Sassy Dalinar.

Renarin wanting to serve under Kal is just the cutest thing ever, I love Renarin so much. He has so many issues but dammit he’s so determined and engendering. God I love him.

“Other curiosities baffled her. A vial of pale sand. A couple of thick hairpins. A lock of golden hair. The branch of a tree with writing on it she couldn’t read. A silver knife. An odd flower preserved in some kind of solution. There were no plaques to explain these mementos. That chunk of pale pink crystal looked like it might be some kind of gemstone, but why was it so delicate. Bits of it had flaked off in its case, as if simply setting it down had almost crushed it.”—Page 493

Not stuff from other planets.

Who does Amaram’s life belong to?

Rock saw Hoid.

Adolin’s ex, Danlan is in the Ghostbloods.

“‘Stop it, you two,’ Balat said. ‘That kind of talk is disrespectful. Love…love is like a classical melody.’ Shallan grinned. ‘If you end your performance too quickly, your audience is disappointed?’”—Page 558

Amazing.

No one writes romance like Brandon Sanderson, that poop scene will always be great.

“Well, that might be a little harder. I think there’s only one of those around these parts, and she and I never did get along.”—Wit, Page 641

The Nightwatcher? Khriss?

Okay, so why did Relis just randomly run away when the blade didn’t kill Kal?

I’m so pissed off at Kal, like if he had just listen to Syl and not let his thirst for vengeance over take him, he would not be in this situation. Yes, Kal, some lighteyes have screwed you over but you can blame them all for your problems. If you just handled this Amaram thing like an adult, then you wouldn’t be in the situation. You never think these things through!

“Stop being a child, and start being a solider! You’ll go to prison, and you’ll go happily. That’s an order”—Dalinar, Page 678

Thank you, Dalinar!

Is Amaram going to get an honorblade? That would be an epic battle between Kal and Amaram.

“Have you given up on the gemstone, now that it is dead? And do you no longer hide behind the name of your old master? I am told that in your current incarnation you’ve take a name that references what you presume to be one of your virtues.”—Page 733

So many teases.

“He’s searching for the information there, Shallan thought. Same as I am. But he wants to return the Voidbringers, not fight them. Why?”—Page 737

The reason as Gavilar.

“Kaladin’s father had been respect.”—Page 749

Not really, they thought what he did was creepy.

I have to remember the name Iyatil for when The Lost Metal comes out.

I’m so mad at Kal for giving Moash the blade and plate.

“He hesitated. The first time; an implication that when Gavilar had died, he had not been broken up about it. She had never states so outright an implication of the…difficulties the two had been having.”—Page 788

What did Gavilar do?

Well, I am sad that Sadeas is gone because Wit won’t be able to mock him. However, I forgot that Wit was a total asshole to Amaram and it was amazing, I can’t wait to see more of this.

“It is an era for tyrants. I doubt this place is ready for anything more, and a benevolent tyrant is preferable to the disaster of weak rule. Perhaps in another place and time, I’d have denounced you with spit and bile. Here, today, I praise you as what this world needs.”—Wit, Page 797

Sometimes the world need a tyrant.

“If I have to watch this world crumble and burn to get what I need, I will do so. with tears, yes, but I would let it happen.”—Wit, page 798

CONCERNED.

Yes, dragon dude, I’m sure Odium will stay captive. Just like Ruin.

“‘Oh please,’ she said. ‘The world isn’t fair? What a huge revelation! Some people in power abuse those they have power over? Amazing! When did this start happening?’”—Page 825

Thank you, Shallan! I’m so glad you’re knocking some sense into him!

“Yes, princeling. I let your betrothed wander off alone in the darkness to get eaten by a chasmfiend. No, I didn’t go with her. Yes, I am coward.”—Page 830

I love this scene.

I can’t believe that Kal, without even knowing Shallan, just stated that she’s never gone through any hardships. Like hello Kal, light eyes aren’t some immortal beings who feel no pain.

Dalinar should have told Shallan about that time he dug a bathroom out, then she would have known to use a hammer.

Ah, yes Kal, the most brilliant idea to not tell Shallan about killing her brother. I’m sure that will totally not bite you in the ass later.

So Eshonai mentions that Venli hadn’t changed much after the Stormform transformation, so I’m guessing that Venli was influenced by Odium?

I’m so annoyed that Taravangian knows so much about what’s going on. Everything seems to connected but I don’t understand how or why they are.

Also Taravangian was working with Gavilar.

“‘Yes. She was my commander. But now…’ He looked up, and despite the alien skin and the strange way of speaking, Dalinar recognized grief in this man’s face. Terrible grief. ‘Sir, I have reason to believe that everyone I know…everyone I loved…has been destroyed, monsters left in their place. The listerners, the Parshendi, may be no more. I have nothing left…’ ‘Yes you do,’ Skar said from outside the ring of guards. ‘You’re Bridge Four.’ Rlain looked at him. ‘I’m a traitor.’ ‘Ha!’ Rock said. ‘Is little problem. Can be fixed.’”—Page 956

Aw, I love Rlain.

I feel so bad for Elhokar, I hope that he gets a “redemption ark” and becomes a good king.

“The crimson eyes hovered like Taln’s Scar.”—Page 969

Because it’s Odium!

“‘He murdered them, Kaladin,’ Moash snapped. ‘That sorry excuse for a king killed the only family I ever had.’”—Page 1007

What about Bridge Four, asshole?

“‘The Diagram spoke of this,’ Graves said.”—Page 1015

He’s working with Taravangian.

I’m glad that Rlain is going to be in the story, the Althei can learn more about listener culture.

“The Lopen sucked in light.”—Page 1052

God help the Cosmere.

Okay so there’s Taravangian’s group the Diagram with Graves and Moash, who seem at one point been working with the Sons of Honor with Amaram and possibly Gavilar. Then There’s the Ghostbloods who seem to be against the Sons of Honor. Then there’s the 17th Shard with a bunch of worldhoppers. Take a shot every time there’s some secret organization in the cosmere!

“Hello, a cheerful voice said in his mind. Would you like to destroy some evil today?”—Page 1064

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I’m sure the Adolin killing Sadeas will totally bite him in the ass and I’m sure his wife is going to be very pissed but until that happens HELL YEAH! That worm totally deserved it! Also, Brandon took the phrase “eat shit and die” a little too seriously with Sadeas.

Renarin thinking that something was wrong with him because he heard screaming makes me so sad. I can’t wait to see more of his spren and hope that he gains some confidence.

PLEASE DON’T LET KAL’S PARENTS BE DEAD.

“A man will find a single coin in the mud…”—Hoid, Page 1078

You slipped up, Hoid. Remember where you are.

I feel so bad for Jasnah, Shallan discovered everything by herself.

Here’s hoping for Jasnah/Hoid road trip!

And that was my reread of Words of Radiance, I still think Way of Kings is better only because Kal is super annoying at times in this book. Other than that, it was really awesome and I can’t wait for Oathbringer in November…

#words of radiance #stormlight archive #brandon sanderson #reviewsdaytuesday #cosmere #2017 reviews

23 notes · View notes

patrick--hockstetter · 7 years ago

Text

Ahri

Innately connected to the latent power of Runeterra, Ahri is a vastaya who can reshape magic into orbs of raw energy. She revels in toying with her prey by manipulating their emotions before devouring their life essence. Despite her predatory nature, Ahri retains a sense of empathy as she receives flashes of memory from each soul she consumes.

Lore

Abandoned in the snowy woods of northern Ionia, Ahri knew nothing of her original family save the token they left her: a pair of matching gemstones. She joined a pack of icefoxes as they stalked prey on their morning hunt, and before long they adopted her as one of their own. With no one to teach her the magic of her kind, Ahri instinctively learned to draw it from the world around her, shaping destructive spheres and quickening her reflexes to take down prey. If she was close enough, she could even soothe a deer into a state of tranquility, so much that it remained serene even as she sank her teeth into its flesh.

Ahri first encountered humans when a troop of foreign soldiers camped near her den. Their behaviors were strange to Ahri and, curious to learn more, she watched them from afar. She was especially drawn to a hunter who, unlike his wasteful companions, used every part of the animals he killed, reminding her of her fox family.

When the hunter was wounded by an arrow, Ahri felt his life seeping away. She instinctively devoured the essence leaving his body, and gained brief flashes of his memories - the lover he had lost in battle, his children from a strange land of iron and stone. She found she could push his emotions from fear to sorrow to joy, and charmed him with visions of a sun-soaked meadow as he died.

Euphoric at the rush of absorbing the hunter's life, Ahri felt more alive than ever, and traveled Ionia in search of more victims. She relished toying with her prey, shifting their emotions before consuming their life essence. She alternated between dazzling them with visions of beauty, hallucinations of deep longing, and occasionally dreams colored by raw sorrow.

She grew drunk with memories that were not her own, and exhilarated in the lives of others. Through stolen visions, Ahri watched through their eyes as they pledged fealty to a temple of shadow, sacrificed offerings to a deity of the sun incarnate, encountered an avian tribe of vastaya that spoke only in song, and glimpsed mountainous landscapes unlike any she had seen. She experienced heartbreak and elation in tantalizing flashes that left her craving more, and wept at the massacres of Ionian villagers at the hands of Noxian invaders.

Ahri was surprised when the memories led her to discover the tale of an unearthly fox demon. As she absorbed more life essence, she grew to identify more and more with her victims, and felt guilty at ending so many lives. She feared that the myths about her were true - she was no more than a cruel monster. But whenever too much time passed between feedings, she sensed her own power fade, and could not help but partake once more.

Ahri tested her self-control by consuming small quantities of life essence, enough to absorb a memory or two but not enough to kill. She was successful, for a time, but was tortured by her unending hunger and soon succumbed to temptation, indulging in the dreams of an entire coastal village.

Tormented by her mistake, Ahri could not forgive herself and felt a deep sorrow that forced her to question her own existence. She withdrew to the forest caves, isolating herself in hopes of controlling her relentless desire. Years later she emerged, determined to experience every facet of life through her own eyes. Though she might indulge in occasional essence, she resisted consuming entire lives. With the twin gemstones as the only clue to her origin, Ahri set out in search of others like her. No more would she rely on borrowed memories and unfamiliar dreams.

A Fair Trade

Ahri walks in disguise, but this fortune-teller has her own secret. What are they both hiding?

The market smelled of burning incense and rotting cabbage.

Ahri wrapped her cloak around her nine tails and fiddled with her twin sunstone tokens to distract herself from the stench, rolling them between her fingers and snapping them together. Each one had the shape of a blazing flame, but they were carved in such a way that their sharper edges fit together, forming a perfectly smooth orb. She had carried the golden stones since before she could remember, though she had no knowledge of their origin.

Though Ahri was in a new environment, she was comforted by the latent magic buzzing all around her. She passed a stand with dozens of woven baskets filled to the brim with polished rocks, shells etched with legends from a seafaring tribe, gambling dice carved from bones, and other curious items. Nothing matched the style of Ahri's sculpted tokens.

"Care for a gem to match the blue of the skies?" asked the gray-bearded merchant. "For you, I'll trade a cerulean bauble for the cost of a single cryraven feather, or perhaps the seed of a jubji tree. I'm flexible."

Ahri smiled at him, but shook her head and continued through the market, sunstones in hand. She passed a stand covered in spiky orange vegetables, a child selling fruit that shifted color with the weather, and at least three peddlers swinging tins of incense, each of whom claimed to have discovered the deepest form of meditation.

"Fortunes! Come get your fortunes told!" called a young woman with lavender eyes and a soft jawline. "Find out who you'll fall in love with, or how to avoid unlucky situations with a pinch of burdock root. Or if you'd prefer your future left to the gods, I'll answer a question about your past. Though I do recommend finding out whether or not you're at risk for death by poisoning."

A tall vastaya with feline ears was about to take a bite of a spiced pastry. He froze and stared at the fortune teller in alarm.

"The answer is no, by the way. Yours for free," she said, curtsying at him before turning to Ahri. "Now, you look like you've had a dark and mysterious past. Or at least some tales worth sharing. Any burning questions for me, lady?"

Beneath heavy layers of incense, Ahri paused at the scent of wet fur and spiced leather lingering at the woman's neck.

"Thank you, but no," she replied. "I'm still looking around."

"You won't find any more Ymelo tokens in this market, I'm afraid," the woman said, nodding to Ahri's sunstones. "Like the ones you have."

The back of Ahri's neck prickled and she drew closer to the woman. She would not let her excitement get the better of her. "Do you recognize these? Where do they come from?"

The woman eyed Ahri.

"I think they're Ymelos, anyway," she said. "Never seen a pair in person. He only carved a small number in his time, and many of the sets were separated in the war. Dead rare, those."

Ahri leaned closer with each word.

"I'm Hirin, by the way," the woman said.

"Do you know where I might find this craftsman?" Ahri asked.

Hirin laughed. "No idea. But if you come in, I'll tell you what I know."

Ahri wrapped her cloak around her shoulders and eagerly followed the fortune teller past her booth, and into a caravan decorated wall to wall with animal skins.

"Tea?" Hirin said. "I brewed it this morning."

She poured two cups of liquid the color of plum wine, taking one for herself. The tea tasted of bitter oak bark masked by a cloying dollop of honey. Hirin held out a hand for the stones but Ahri kept them close.

"I'm getting the sense that these are special to you," she said with a wry smile. "Don't worry, I have no interest in peddling stolen sunstones. Bad for a girl's reputation."

"Can you tell me where they come from?" asked Ahri, handing them over gingerly.

Hirin held them up to the light.

"These are beautiful," she said. "I don't know how they fit together so perfectly. I've not seen the like."

Ahri said nothing. She stood frozen with curiosity, and did not take her eyes off the woman.

"Legend says the sculptor known as Ymelo collected fossilized lizard eggs from a thousand thousand years ago that he carved into intricate shapes. These ancient lizards lived long before the Ghetu Sea dried up to a desert, leaving only petrified bones and dust."

Hirin coughed, and Ahri detected a bitter note upon her breath, as if she had been drinking vinegar.

"Ymelo stones are designed as small pieces that fit into a larger sculpture," she continued.

The woman dangled the golden pieces in front of Ahri's face.

"Just as your past has left you with information to be desired, these stones may have many more parts that, when combined, create another shape altogether. Who knows what you'll become when you track down your history. With the missing pieces, you may learn more than you'd like."

"Those are pretty words," Ahri murmured, staring at the woman.

After a moment of silence, Hirin chuckled. "Some threads of truth, threads of my own invention. A fortune teller's weaving must be seamless."

The woman retrieved a hunter's knife from a cabinet.

"I weave in just enough of what you desire to make you stay," she said. "'Til the tea slows your muscles, that is."

A low growl escaped Ahri's lips. She would tear this woman apart. She tried to pounce, but her limbs did not obey. She was rooted in place.

"Oh, there's no need for that, lady. I only need a single tail. Useful for a variety of potions, you see, and extremely valuable. Or so I think. Never seen a vastaya with fox tails before. The tea freezes any pain, along with your... mobility."

Hirin wrapped a bandage around one of Ahri's tails. Ahri tried to resist, but she still could not move.

"You'll wake up tomorrow, good as new!" said the woman. "Well, with one less tail. Do you really use all nine?"

Ahri shut her eyes and reached out to the reservoirs of magic around her. The environment had plenty ripe for the taking, but she was too weakened by the tea to draw them to her. Instead, she reached into Hirin's mind, which was far more malleable, and pushed.

Ahri opened her eyes and stared hard into Hirin's. They deepened from lavender to violet.

"Hirin," she said. "Come closer. I would look into the face of the one who tricked me."

"Of course, lady," Hirin replied, transfixed. The woman's voice sounded hollow, as though it came from the bottom of a well.

She leaned in until her face was only inches away. Ahri inhaled, drawing essences of the woman's life from her breath.

...Hirin was a young girl hiding, hungry and afraid, beneath a market stall. Two men argued above, looking for her. She had nothing but empty coffers to show for her days' work...

Ahri continued to drain Hirin's life, sampling memories of raw emotion. They felt rich in Ahri's mouth, and she relished each unique flavor of emotion.

...Hirin told the fortune of a witch doctor shrouded in veils, receiving a copper for her troubles. She used the coin to buy a piece of bread, which she devoured in seconds...

...In a seedy tavern, a raucous group played cards. A man with eyebrows resembling butterfly wings gambled a golden Ymelo stone while Hirin watched from the shadows...

...Hirin tracked Ahri as she walked through the market. One of her fox tails peeked from beneath her cloak. She drew the vastaya into her caravan---

Enough.

Ahri stopped, her head spinning with renewed vigor. With each memory she stole from Hirin, she felt energy rush back into her weakened muscles, cleansing them of the poison.

Strengthened once more, she slowly shook her limbs awake and flexed her tails with a shiver. They tingled with pinpricks.

Hirin stood wide-eyed and dazed, still very much alive. It was she that would wake tomorrow, good as new - less a few memories that she would not miss.

With knowledge of the woman's life, Ahri's rage had faded. She brushed her hand against the fortune teller's cheek, then wrapped her cloak tightly around her shoulders and stepped out into the sunlit market.

Hirin would not remember her or their encounter. But Ahri had left the trade with a name to hunt - Ymelo - and the image of the man with soft-winged eyebrows was burned in her mind.

#Ahri #She has the longest lore oml

0 notes