For some reason this makes me want to write Mistborn jokes:

• An Inquisitor, a Misting, and a Feruchemist walk into a bar. The Inquisitor flags down the bartender and says, “Do you mind if I use the backroom tonight?” The Inquisitor motions to the Feruchemist and the Misting and says “We need a little privacy. My friends here really need to get hammered together”.

• In the same bar a little while later, a newly minted Inquisitor stumbles out of the back room blood pouring out of new wounds and leans on the bar. The bartender says “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes”

• The first Inquisitor walks calmly out of the back room toward the bar wiping his blood coated hands on a cloth. He says “Barkeep we need to head out. I’d like to close out my bar tab. What’s the damage look like?” The bartender looks at his tally and says “Looks like you and your friend went through about 12 Rusty Nails.”

Now that is a rusting reference.

From the moment I understood the weakness of my flesh, it disgusted me. I craved the strength and certainty of pewter; I aspired to the purity of the blessed kandra.