quote:

Cover artist Keith Parkinson died before Confessor was published, but had created art for all the books in the saga beforehand. Author Terry Goodkind had the following to say: "When Keith and I were working on cover concepts for Chainfire he came up with a number of color roughs that, because of their simple, iconic nature were very close to being final. At the time I recognized three of these roughs as perfect for the Chainfire Trilogy. That means that the final book of the series had already been done by him before he passed away so that is the cover that will appear on the book."

DARKSEID DICK PICS posted:

.. He is action villain style through and through. This is some Raul Julia as M. Bison cheese right here.

DARKSEID DICK PICS posted:

and watches them perform a ceremony in which a beast called (no joke) a "namble" rapes Subtractive magic into a new SotD with the aid of the quillion.

TheSmilingJackal posted:

Because he thinks fantasy is stupid and you are stupid for reading it.

AVeryLargeRadish posted:

Hey, pssst, over here...

*whispers in ear* Nynaeve tugged her braid... :iamafag:

DARKSEID DICK PICS posted:

I could describe this scene for you, or I could just save us all some time. Let's do that one.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1d8oqIXtjdo

Clanpot Shake posted:

It just occurred to me that when Dick Hider first crosses the veil into the Midlands he is tormented by the soul of his father, George Cypher. Then in this book when he goes to summon the soul of his father (thinking of old George), he instead gets Darken Rahl, his real dad.

These books just make no sense...

Chaltab posted:

Speaking of Star Wars

How much you wanna bet Goodkind initially typed the quote verbatim from The Empire Strikes Back and then changed it slightly when his editor noticed?

quote:

"Other people have no right, no hold, no interest or influence on him. And this is not affected or chosen -- it's inborn, absolute, it can't be changed, he has 'no organ' to be otherwise. In this respect, he has the true, innate psychology of a Superman. He can never realize and feel'other people.' "

quote:

"He shows how impossible it is for a genuinely beautiful soul to succeed at present, for in all [aspects of] modern life, one has to be a hypocrite, to bend and tolerate. This boy wanted to command and smash away things and people he didn't approve of."

quote:

"The first thing that impresses me about the case is the ferocious rage of a whole society against one man. No matter what the man did, there is always something loathsome in the 'virtuous' indignation and mass-hatred of the 'majority.'... It is repulsive to see all these beings with worse sins and crimes in their own lives, virtuously condemning a criminal...

quote:

"This is not just the case of a terrible crime. It is not the crime alone that has raised the fury of public hatred. It is the case of a daring challenge to society. It is the fact that a crime has been committed by one man, alone; that this man knew it was against all laws of humanity and intended that way; that he does not want to recognize it as a crime and that he feels superior to all. It is the amazing picture of a man with no regard whatever for all that society holds sacred, and with a consciousness all his own. A man who really stands alone, in action and in soul."

Chaltab posted:

Speaking of Star Wars

How much you wanna bet Goodkind initially typed the quote verbatim from The Empire Strikes Back and then changed it slightly when his editor noticed?

DARKSEID DICK PICS posted:

Also I highly support "read Eye of the World and go from there", but you should know that there is definitely a middle point where the series is sloggy, which coincided with Jordan's declining health and death. (The books were finished by a hand-picked second author, and his contributions really make the finale shine, he's great.)

Hyper Crab Tank posted:

Oh, Sanderson sure has his faults.

Dr.Magnificent posted:

The best part is when this very same scene occurs later, but its Richard who is doing it.

TheCenturion posted:

Oh no. No, you don't get to gloss over that. You quote that entire section, with commentary.

Spoilers Below posted:

His one downside is that his fight scenes read like someone who's never been in a fight before, and is only describing what he's seen on TV, as opposed to Vietnam veteran Robert Jordan, or WWI Veteran JRR Tolkien, or even fencer Michael Moorcock, but he's hardly the only fantasy writer that accusation could be laid on *cough Goodkind cough*, and really, it only stands out when in direct comparison, as he's literally finishing another person's work.

Spoilers Below posted:

As much as I'd of loved to see the last three Wheel of Time books by, like, Jacqueline Carey

quote:

"You know of the banelings, yes?”

Zedd tore off a piece of bread. “Yes. Ones turned to the Keeper. Sworn to him. They hide in the light, as well as the shadows, serving his wishes, working to his ends. They can be anyone. Some work for good for years, hiding, waiting to be called. But when they are called, they do the Keeper’s bidding. They are also called by different names, but they are all agents of the Keeper. Some books call them that: agents. Some are important people, like Darken Rahl, used for important tasks. Some are everyday people, used for dirty little deeds. Those with the gift, like Darken Rahl, are the most difficult for the Keeper to turn. Those without it are easier, but even they are rare.”

Adie’s eyes widened. “Darken Rahl be a baneling?”

Zedd lifted an eyebrow as he nodded. “Admitted it to me himself. He said he was an agent, but it’s the same thing, whatever the word, and I’ve heard any number. They all serve the Keeper.”

“This be dangerous news.”

Zedd sopped up some stew with the piece of bread. “I bring very little of any other kind. You were saying about your grandmother Lindel?”

quote:

“On our way back, we had to walk past the Choora mill, just outside of town. I thought it strange no one be there. Someone always be at the mill.” Adie closed her eyes for a moment and then took another sip of tea. “As it turned out, there be people there. The Blood of the Fold. They be waiting for us.”

Zedd knew of them. In the larger cities of Nicobarese, the Blood of the Fold were an organized corps of men who hunted banelings; rooted out evil, as they saw it. In other lands, there were men like them, who went by other names, but they were the same. None were especially picky about proof. A corpse was the only proof they need show of their job well done. If they said the body was that of a baneling, then it was. In the smaller towns, the Blood were usually selfappointed toughs and thugs. The Blood of the Fold were widely feared. With good reason.

quote:

Adie sighed. “One day, a thought occurred to me: I had never used the gift to prevent Mathrin from killing himself. Why would he still come to me? Let me make him to suffer like I did? Why would he not simply end it? So, the next time he came, and I cut something else off, I also cut the bond. Cut his need to come the next time. But I did it in a way so as he would not notice, so he could simply forget about me, if he wished.”

“So that was the last you saw of him?”

She gave a grim shake of her head. “No. I thought it would be, but he returned with the next new moon. Returned when he needn’t have. It made my blood run cold, to wonder why. I decided that it be time for him to pay with his life for what he had done to me, and Pell, and all the others. But I resolved that before he gave me his life, he would give me the answer.”

“In my travels, I had learned many things. Things for which I thought I would never have use. That night I found use. I used them to learn what torture Mathrin feared above all others. The trick be used to learn fears, but be useless to learn other secrets. Against his will, the words tumbled out of him, his fears spilled out.”

“I left him to sweat all that night and the whole next day while I went in search of the things I needed: the things he feared above all else. When I finally returned with them, he be nearly insane with fright. His fears be well founded. I asked him to confess his secret. He said no.”

“I dumped out the sack, put the little cages and the other things in front of him as he sat naked and helpless on the floor. I picked up each, held it before his sightless face, and described it, told him what be in each little cage or basket or jar. Again I asked him to confess. He be sweating and panting and shaking, but he said no. Mathrin thought I be bluffing, that I did not have the courage. Mathrin be wrong.”

“I steeled myself, and brought his worst fears to life for him.”

Zedd’s brow bunched up into wrinkles. Curiosity won out over dread. “What did you do?”

She lifted her head to look into his eyes. “That be the one thing I will not tell you. It not be important anyway.”

“Mathrin would not talk, and suffered so much that I almost stopped several times. Each time I wanted to stop, I thought about the last thing my eyes had seen before he blinded me: Pell’s head held in Mathrin’s fist before me.” Adie swallowed, her voice so low Zedd could hardly hear her. “And I remembered Pell’s last words: ‘I will not say that of her to save my life. Even though she has betrayed me.’“

She closed her eyes for a moment. They came open and she went on. “Mathrin be on the edge of death. I thought he was not going to tell me why he came to me. But just before he died, he became still, despite what was being done to him. And then he said he would tell me, because he be about to die, because this, too, had been by plan. I asked him again why he had come back.”

“He leaned toward me. ‘Don’t you know, Adie?’ he asked me. ‘Don’t you know what I be? I be a baneling. I have been hiding right under your nose all this time. You have kept me near you all this time, and the Keeper knew right where you be. The Keeper lusts for those with the gift above all else.’ I had thought that that be it, that he be a baneling. I told him he had failed, it had done him no good, as he be about to die for his crimes.”

“He smiled at me.” She leaned forward. “Smiled! And he said, ‘You be wrong Adie. I have not failed. I have done the Keeper’s bidding. I have fulfilled my task. Perfectly. All this be by plan. I have made you do exactly as he wished. I shall be rewarded. I be the one who started the fire when you be little. I be the one who did those things to Pell. Not because I thought him or you a baneling. I be the baneling. I did it to make you break your oath. To make you welcome the Keeper’s hate into your heart.’“

“‘Breaking your oath be the first step, and look what you have done since. Look at what you be doing right now. Look at how far you have slipped toward him. You be within his grasp now. You may not have given him your oath, but you do his bidding. You have become what you hate. You have become me; you be a baneling. The Keeper smiles upon you, Adie, and thanks you for welcoming him into your heart.’ Mathrin slumped, and fell back, dead.”

quote:

“How did you know about the pass? I put the boundary up, and I didn’t know the pass existed.”

“By putting up a boundary across parts of this world, it be a little like stoppering up a teakettle and then putting it on the fire. Without a vent, something will blow off. I knew that if there be magic wise enough to know how to bring the underworld into this, it must have a way to equalize each side of the boundary. A vent of some sort. A pass.”

quote:

Her smile widened as she smoothed down a stray lock of his white hair. “Now. Tell me of the Stone of Tears. We must decide what is to be done with it.”

“The Stone of Tears? Well, it is hidden.”

She gave a single, firm nod. “Good. It not be something to be loose in this world.” Her brow wrinkled in a little frown. “It be hidden well? It be safe?”

Zedd winced a little. He didn’t want to tell her, he knew what she would say, but he had promised. “I put it on a chain. Put it on a chain and hung it around the neck of a little girl. I don’t know ... exactly ... where she is right now.”

“You touched it!” Adie’s eyes widened. “The Stone of Tears? You touched it, and hung it around the neck of a little girl!”

She gripped his chin firmly in her suddenly powerful fingers and leaned close to his face. “You have hung the Stone of Tears, the Stone that it be told was hung by the Creator Himself around the Keeper’s neck to lock him in the underworld ... You hung that around a little girl’s neck? And let her wander off!”

Zedd scowled defensively. “Well, I had to do something with it. I couldn’t just leave it lying about.”

DARKSEID DICK PICS posted:

This is the map in the first book. The boundary still exists at this point. (Also, yes, this means the PotP and Tanimura were apparently on the map from day one and nobody gave a poo poo.) "The boundary" is clearly not a straight line from top to bottom across the world, so why the gently caress does anything need "equalizing" if it's not circling the entire globe? How does that in any way make sense that there would be "a vent"? God, this is dumb.

Dr.Magnificent posted:

Apologies for stepping on the joke! Have a fun fact: Goodkind hated that he put the map into the books, because as later books came out, he'd get questions about how things were in relation to each other.

Libluini posted:

This reminds me, did he ever include a map of the Old World? Or of the entire world (because I wanted to see how much the evil mind-control emperor actually controls and what nations exist down there and poo poo).

quote:

She gave a single, firm nod. “Good. It not be something to be loose in this world.” Her brow wrinkled in a little frown. “It be hidden well? It be safe?”

Sindai posted:

I don't think so. We just know it's super huge compared to the setting of the books and yet somehow all the fate-of-the-world stuff is concentrated in this little shithole corner.

quote:

She lowered the book to her lap and looked up. “But you say you did not touch your Han? You felt nothing within yourself? You felt no power? Saw no light? Did not sense the Creator?” Her eyes narrowed. “You had better not be lying to me, Richard. You had better never lie to me about touching your Han.”

quote:

Richard was starting toward the saddlebags, to gather the rest of their things, when a woman came running out of the night. Cloak flying behind, and crying in terror, she ran headlong into their camp. She let out a wail and dashed desperately for him.

“Please!” she cried out. “Please help me! Please don’t let them get me!”

Her loose hair streamed behind as she ran. The naked fear on her face ran a shiver up Richard’s spine. She stumbled as she reached him. Richard caught her frail form in his arms. Her dirty face was streaked with sweat and tears.

“Please, sir,” she sobbed, looking up at him with dark eyes, “please don’t let them get me. You don’t know what those men will do to me.”

Richard’s mind filled with the fright of remembering Kahlan being pursued by the quads. He remembered how terrified she had been of those men, and how she had spoken almost the same words: You don’t know what those men will do to me. “No one is going to get you. You are safe now.”

The woman’s arms came out from under her cloak, slipping around him. Her dark eyes stayed on his as he held her weight. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but instead gave a little grunt and jerked. Light seemed to flash from within her eyes. She went slack and heavy in his arms.

Richard looked up into Sister Verna’s unwavering gaze as she yanked the silver knife from the woman’s back. Richard felt himself letting the dead weight slip to the ground. The woman slumped fluidly and rolled onto her back.

“What’s the matter with you?” he hissed. “You have just murdered this woman.”

Sister Verna returned his glare in kind. “I thought you said you held no foolish prohibitions against killing women.”

The wrath of the sword’s magic pounded through him, raging to be set free. “You are mad.” He was rushing toward a lethal precipice. The sword’s point rose in anger.

“Before you would think to kill me,” Sister Verna said in a measured tone, “you had better make sure you are not making a mistake.” Richard didn’t answer. He was incapable of speaking through the fury. “Look in her hand, Richard.”

He looked down at the lifeless body. Her hands were covered by her heavy woolen cloak. Using the sword, he flicked the cloak back off her arm to reveal a knife still gripped in her dead fist. The point had a dark stain on it.

“Did she scratch you with the knife?”

Richard’s chest still heaved with anger. “No. Why?”

“Her knife is coated with poison. All it would take is a scratch.”

quote:

Her cold composure was more frightening than if she had yelled at him. “Our job is to help those with the gift, because the gift is given by the Creator. We serve the Creator. It is for him we die. I’ve lost two of my oldest friends because of you. I’ve wept myself to sleep with grief for them. I’ve had to kill this woman tonight, and I may have to kill others before we reach the palace.”

Richard had the feeling it would be best to keep quiet, but he couldn’t. She had a way of stirring the coals of his anger to flame. “Don’t try to assuage your guilt over what you’ve done at my expense, Sister.”

Her face heated with color that he could see, even in the moonlight. “I’ve tried to be patient with you, Richard. I’ve given you leeway because you’ve been pulled from the only life you have known, and been thrust into a situation you fear and don’t understand, but my patience is near its end.”

“I’ve tried my best not to see the lifeless bodies of my friends when I look into your eyes. Or when you tell me I’m heartless. I’ve tried not to think about you being the one standing at their burial, not me, and about the things I would have said over their fresh graves. There are things going on that are beyond my understanding, beyond my expectations, beyond what I was led to believe. Were it up to me, I’m of a mind to grant you your wish and remove your Rada’Han, and let you die in madness and pain. But it’s not up to me. It is the Creator’s work I do.”

quote:

He raised his head. The little gar was standing in the blood where its mother had been, its trembling wings held out limply, its shoulders slumped, and its tufted ears wilted. Big green eyes watched him. They stared at each other for a long moment.

“I’m sorry, little one,” he whispered.

It took a tentative step toward him. Tears ran down the gar’s face. Tears ran down his. It took another small, shaky step.
Richard held his arms out. It watched, and then with a miserable wail, fell into them.

It clutched its long, skinny arms to him. Warm wings wrapped around his shoulders. Richard hugged it tightly to himself.

Gently stroking its coarse fur, he hushed it with comforting whispers. Richard rarely had seen a creature in such misery, a creature so in need of comfort that it would even accept it from the one who had caused its pain. Maybe, he thought, it was only recognizing him as the one who had saved it from being eaten by two huge monsters. Maybe, given the terrible choice, it chose to see him as a savior. Maybe the last impression, of saving it from being eaten, was simply the strongest.

The little gar felt like nothing more than a furry sack of bones. It was half starved. He could hear its stomach grumbling. Its faint musky odor, while not pleasant, was not repulsive either. He cooed succor as the thing’s whimpering slowed.

When it had at last quieted with a heavy, tired sigh, Richard stood. Sharp little claws tugged at his pant leg as it looked up to his face. He wished he had some food to leave with the pup, but he hadn’t brought his pack and had nothing to offer.

He pulled the claw from his pants. “I have to go. Those two won’t come back now. Try to find yourself a rabbit or something. You’ll have to do the best you can on your own now. Go on.”

It blinked up at him, its wings and one leg slowly stretching as it yawned. Richard turned and started off. He looked over his shoulder. The little gar followed after.

Richard stamped to a halt. “You can’t come with me.” He held his arms out and shooed it away. “Go on. Be off with you.” He started walking backward. The gar followed. He stopped again and shooed it more firmly. “Go! You can’t come with me! Go on!”

DARKSEID DICK PICS posted:

Speaking of Richard getting on my nerves... gently caress. Alright, let's get on with it. I know some of you have been waiting for this.


That's right: we use the Harry and the Hendersons bit TWICE IN THE SAME NOVEL.

Hodgepodge posted:

The only really skeevy part in Wheel of Time in terms of sex is how Rand ends up basically in a love....square I guess... with three woman, and their reaction is to go hivemind sister-wives full speed ahead.

On the other hand, he is basically battlemage-Jesus so I guess that's just their sort of thing.

quote:

“We can’t take anything, Adie,” he said quietly.

She straightened. “I must take my bones. Some of them be important. Some have powerful magic.”

Zedd took up her thin hand. “Adie, the Keeper knew where we were by one of the bones. He’s been watching you. We can’t know if he would recognize any of these, too. We must leave them, but we can’t risk having someone else taking them; they must be destroyed.”

Her mouth worked for a moment before she found words. “I will not leave them. They be important. They were extremely difficult to obtain. It took me years to find some of them. The Keeper could not have marked them. He could not know the trouble I went to.”

Zedd patted her hand. “Adie, he wouldn’t have placed one he wanted you to have, to mark you, right in your path. He would have made you struggle for it, so you would value it and keep it close.”

She yanked her hand back. “Then he could have marked anything!” She pointed. “How do you know this horse was not given by a baneling?”

Zedd gave her a level look. “Because it was not the one offered. I took another.”

quote:

“Are my men hurting you, my lady?” came a mocking voice from behind.

Queen Cyrilla coolly denied Prince Fyren the satisfaction of an answer.

quote:

“They use silver or gold to buy the things they need that they don’t grow or make themselves.”

“Where do they get this silver or gold?”

“People who want the thing they specialize in pay for it with silver or gold.”

“And where do these others get this silver or gold?”

“They get it from people who pay them for the things they do.”

Chandalen looked at her skeptically. “Why do they not trade? It would be easier to trade.”

“Well, in a way, it is trading. Often, the person who wants what you have has nothing you want, so they give you money—silver or gold made into flat, round disks called coins—instead. Then you can use the money to buy things you need.”

“Buy.” Chandalen seemed to test the strange word with his tongue as he looked off down a street to their right while shaking his head in disbelief. “Why would people work, then? Why would they not just go and get this silver or gold money?”

“Some do. They hunt silver and gold. But that is hard work, too. Gold is hard to find and dig out of the ground. That is why it is used for money: because it is rare. If it were easy to find, like grains of sand, then no one would take it in trade. If money were easy to get, or to make, it would become worthless, and then in the end this system of trade, with worthless money, would fail, and everyone would starve.”

quote:

He came to a halt with a frown. “What is this money made from? What is this silver or gold you speak of?”

She didn’t stop with him, and he had to take a few bounding steps to catch back up with her. “Gold is ... The medallion, the necklace, that the Bantak gave as a gift to the Mud People, to show they did not wish to make war, that is made of gold.” Chandalen nodded with a knowing grunt. Kahlan halted this time. “Do you know where the Bantak got that much gold?”

Chandalen swept his gaze across the slate rooftops. “Of course. They got it from us.”

Kahlan gripped his arm covered with his mantle and pulled him around. “What do you mean, they got it from you?”

He tensed at her touch. He didn’t like her hand—a Confessor’s hand—on him. That the fur mantle separated actual contact of flesh was of no consequence; their flesh was close enough. If she relaxed her restraint of the power, that thin piece of hide would be no impediment; Kahlan had loosed her power through armor before. She released her grip and he visibly relaxed. “Chandalen, where did the Mud People get that much gold?”

He looked at her as if she were a child asking where you might find dirt. “From the holes in the ground. In our land, to the north where it is rocky and nothing much will grow or live, there are holes in the ground. They have this gold in them. It is a bad place. The air is hot and bad. It is said that men die if they stay too long in the ground. The yellow metal is in these deep holes. It is too soft to make good weapons, so it is of no use.”

He dismissed its importance with a wave of his hand. “But the Bantak say their ancestors’ spirits like the look of the yellow metal, and so we let them come onto our land and go in the holes so they may get it to make things their ancestors’ spirits may like to look upon when they come to this world.”

“Chandalen, do others know of these holes in the ground, of the gold that is in them?”

He shrugged. “We do not let outsiders come to our land. But I told you, it is too soft to make weapons with, so it is of no use. It pleases the Bantak, and they are good traders with us, so we let them take what they want. They do not take much, though, because it is a bad place to go into. No one would want to go there, except the Bantak, to please their ancestors’ spirits.”

How could she explain it to him? He didn’t understand the ways of the outside world.

Pieces of Peace posted:

Someone's forgetting the original (girl-on-girl) Evil BDSM Witches in Wheel of Time! Seriously, The Great Hunt was like twenty percent damane and the usual smooths-dress tugs-braid mixed with bondage. Still a good book and Jordan actually made the PTSD arising from being somebody's magic slave relevant to the characterization but... WoT is very "classic fantasy" at some points. Not pages glued together awful, but maybe occasionally Penthouse Letters awful.

(I still love the series, though. It's ridiculously redundant and it's got so much cheesy writing but it is the best guilty pleasure).

DARKSEID DICK PICS posted:

quote:

I dunno. I read these at the same time as a teenager, and the damane stuff never gave me a vibe beyond being pissed off a hypocritical slaveholder antagonists, whereas with the Mord Sith I was pretty clear on having unexpectedly entered hankies and lube territory.

quote:

Are you sure Goodkind's a goldbug? Because this Mud Person gave the exact reason why gold isn't inherently valuable - it has no practical use. You can't eat it, or use it to make useful things.

Pththya-lyi posted:

But you could make a stronger argument for using beans as currency. As with gold, beans require work to get - if you don't take care of the bean plants and help them to grow, the plants will die and you will remain bean-less. Unlike gold, you can use beans as food OR put them in the ground and produce more beans OR put them in a sealed container to make a musical instrument. Beans are clearly the better choice for a non-fiat currency!

oriongates posted:

I don't even remember anyone being raped at all!

Nihilarian posted:

I have some bad news for you.

DARKSEID DICK PICS posted:

it's actually Chekhov's Rape Pit.