Sublime

Electrum, the Allomantic complement of gold. Elend had started calling it “poor man’s atium.”

His clothing—striped trousers of black and red with a dark blue sweater that matched the color of his knit cap—had once been fine, but it was now growing ragged. Had he once been something other than a slaver? This life—the casual buying and selling of human flesh—seemed to have an effect on men. It wearied the soul, even if it did fill one’s money

“The poison will act only to slow you, dull your senses and power. Much like his venom does. Once it takes effect, he’ll remove your head and limbs and burn the pieces on a pyre.” Envy rolled his eyes. “Pyres are so dull. Leave it to your prince to be so uninspired. Though I suppose he is still stuck in the Middle Ages.”

little miss Mistborn