Timewaster's Guide Archive

   
       "MAKE certain you deliver these tonight." Sarene said, pulling the lid closed
on the final box of supplies.

   The beggar nodded, casting an apprehensive glance toward the wall of Elantris, which stood only a few feet away. "You needn't be so afraid, Hoid." Sarene said. "You have a new king now.
Things are going to change in Arelon."

   Hoid shrugged. Despite Telrii's death. the beggar refused to meet with Sarene
during the day. Hoid's people had spent ten years fearing Iadon and his farms;
they weren't used to acting without the enveloping presence of night, no
matter how legal their intentions. Sarene would have used someone else to make
the delivery, but Hoid and his men already knew how and where to deposit the
boxes. Besides, she would rather the populace of Arelon not discover what was
in this particular shipment.

   "These boxes are more heavy than the ones before. my lady," Hoid noted
astutely. There was a reason he had managed to survive a decade on the streets
of Kae without being caught.

   "What the boxes contain is none of your business," Sarene replied, handing him a pouch of coins.
   Hoid nodded, his face hidden in the darkness of his hood. Sarene had never
seen his face. but she assumed from his voice that he was an older man.

      Hoid calmly put away the pipe, then climbed to his feet— though that didn’t make him much taller. The scrawny bald man bowed deeply in the misty night. “Greetings, my lord.”

       Kelsier paused in front of the man, arms tucked carefully inside his mistcloak. It wouldn’t do for a street informant to realize that the unidentified “nobleman” he was meeting with had the scars of Hathsin on his arms.
“You come highly recommended,” Kelsier said, mimicking the haughty accent of a nobleman.

       “I am one of the best, my lord.” Anyone who can survive as long as you have must be good, Kelsier thought. Lords didn’t like the idea of other men knowing their secrets. Informants generally didn’t live very long.

       “I need to know something, informant,” Kelsier said. “But first you must vow never to speak of this meeting to anyone.”

       “Of course, my lord,” Hoid said. He’d likely break the promise before the night was out—another reason informants didn’t tend to live very long. “There is, however, the matter of payment....”

       “You’ll have your money, skaa,” Kelsier snapped.

       “Of course, my lord,” Hoid said with a quick bob of the head. “You requested information regarding House Renoux, I believe....”
      
       “Yes. What is known about it? Which houses is it aligned with? I must know these things.”

       “There isn’t really much to know, my lord,” Hoid said. “Lord Renoux is very new to the area, and he is a careful man. He’s making neither allies nor enemies at the moment—he’s buying a large number of weapons and armor, but is probably just purchasing from a wide variety of houses and merchants, thereby ingratiating himself to them all. A wise tactic. He will, perhaps, have an excess of merchandise, but he will also have an excess of friends, yes?”
Kelsier snorted. “I don’t see why I should pay you for that.”

       “He’ll have too much merchandise, my lord,” Hoid said quickly. “You could make a clever profit, knowing that Renoux is shipping at a loss.”

       “I’m no merchant, skaa,” Kelsier said. “I don’t care about profits and shipping!” Let him chew on that. Now he thinks I’m of a Great House—of course, if he hadn’t suspected that because of the mistcloak, then he doesn’t deserve his reputation.

       “Of course, my lord,” Hoid said quickly. “There is more, of course....” Ah, and here we see it. Does the street know that House Renoux is connected to the rumblings of rebellion? If anyone had discovered that secret, then Kelsier’s crew was in serious jeopardy. Hoid coughed quietly, holding out his hand.

       “Insufferable man!” Kelsier snapped, tossing a pouch at Hoid’s feet.

       “Yes, my lord,” Hoid said, falling to his knees and searching about with his hand. “I apologize, my lord. My eyesight is weak, you know. I can barely see my own fingers held in front of my face.”

       Clever, Kelsier thought as Hoid found the pouch and tucked it away. The comment about eyesight was, of course, a lie—no man would get far in the underground with such an impediment. However, a nobleman who thought his informant to be half blind would be far less paranoid about being identified. Not that Kelsier himself was worried—he wore one of Dockson’s best disguises. Beside the beard, he had a fake, but realistic, nose, along with platforms in the shoes and makeup to lighten his skin.

       “You said there was more?” Kelsier said. “I swear, skaa, if it isn’t good...”

       “It is,” Hoid said quickly. “Lord Renoux is considering a union between his niece, the Lady Valette, and Lord Elend Venture.”

       Kelsier paused. Wasn’t expecting that... “That’s silly. Venture is far above Renoux.”

       “The two youths were seen speaking—at length—at the Venture ball a month ago.”

       Kelsier laughed derisively. “Everyone knows about that. It meant nothing.”

       “Did it?” Hoid asked. “Does everyone know that Lord Elend Venture spoke very highly of the girl to his friends, the group of nobleling philosophers that lounge at the Broken Quill?”

       “Young men speak of girls,” Kelsier said. “It means nothing. You will be returning those coins.”

       “Wait!” Hoid said, sounding apprehensive for the first time. “There is more. Lord Renoux and Lord Venture have had secret dealings.”

       What?

       “It is true,” Hoid continued. “This is fresh news—I heard it barely an hour ago myself. There is a connection between Renoux and Venture. And, for some reason, Lord Renoux was able to demand that Elend Venture be assigned to watch over Lady Valette at balls.” He lowered his voice. “It is even whispered that Lord Renoux has some kind of...leverage over House Venture.”

       What happened at that ball tonight? Kelsier thought. Out loud, however, he said, “This all sounds very weak, skaa. You have nothing more than idle speculations?”

       “Not about House Renoux, my lord,” Hoid said. “I tried, but your worry over this house is meaningless! You should pick a house more central to politics. Like, say, House Elariel . . .”

       Kelsier frowned. By mentioning Elariel, Hoid was implying that he had some important tidbit that would be worth Kelsier’s payment. It seemed that House Renoux’s secrets were safe. It was time to move the discussion along to other houses, so that Hoid wouldn’t get suspicious of Kelsier’s interest in Renoux. “Very well,” Kelsier said. “But if this isn’t worth my time...”

       “It is, my lord. Lady Shan Elariel is a Soother.”

       “Proof?”

       “I felt her touch on my emotions, my lord,” Hoid said. “During a fire at Keep Elariel a week ago, she was there calming the emotions of the servants.”

       Kelsier had started that fire. Unfortunately, it hadn’t spread beyond the guardhouses. “What else?”

       “House Elariel has recently given her leave to use her powers more at court functions,” Hoid said. “They fear a house war, and wish her to make whatever allegiances possible. She always carries a thin envelope of shaved brass in her right glove. Get a Seeker close to her at a ball, and you shall see. My lord, I do not lie! My life as an informant depends solely upon my reputation. Shan Elariel is a Soother.” Kelsier paused, as if musing. The information was useless to him, but his true purpose—finding out about House Renoux—had already been fulfilled. Hoid had earned his coins, whether he realized it or not.

       Kelsier smiled. Now to sow a little more chaos.  “What of Shan’s covert relationship with Salmen Tekiel?” Kelsier said, picking the name of a likely young nobleman. “Do you think that she used her powers to gain his favor?”

       “Oh, most certainly, my lord,” Hoid said quickly. Kelsier could see the glimmer of excitement in his eyes; he assumed that Kelsier had given him a luscious bit of political gossip free of charge.

       “Perhaps she was the one who secured Elariel the deal with House Hasting last week,” Kelsier said musingly. There had been no such deal.

       “Most likely, my lord.”

      The elderly steward nodded, his head shaking. He didn't seem particularly frail--actually, he had that same air of controlled dignity that most stewards exhibited--but his body had a slow, chronic tremble.

      No pulses came from behind. Soon, she moved on, pulling out Cett's instructions, searching out a second informant. She trusted Slowswift's words well enough, but she would like confirmation. She picked an informant on the other side of the spectrum—a beggar named Hoid whom Cett claimed could be found in a particular square late at night.

   A few quick jumps brought her to the location. She landed atop a roof and looked down, scanning the area. The ash had been allowed to drift here, piling in corners, making a general mess of things. A group of lumps huddled in an alley beside the square. Beggars, without home or job. Vin had lived like that at times, sleeping in alleys, coughing up ash, hoping it wouldn't rain. She soon located a figure that wasn't sleeping like the others, but sitting quietly in the light ashfall. Her ears picked out a faint sound. The man was humming to himself, as the instructions said that he might be doing.

   Vin hesitated.

   She couldn't decide what it was, but something bothered her about the situation. It wasn't right. She didn't stop to think, she simply turned and jumped away. That was one of the big differences between her and Elend—she didn't always need a reason. A feeling was enough. He always wanted to tease things out and find a why, and she loved him for his logic. However, he would have been very frustrated about her decision to turn away from the square as she had.

• Battle Meditation
• Force Persuade

• Force Precognition

• Force Push
• Destroy Droid