One of the forgers emerged, a thick slow-moving man shape that seemed hacked out of the mountain. Their blades failed after a time and had to be replaced, no matter that raids into the Borderlands had been curtailed. But so few the Myrddraal must be gnashing their teeth. Prisoners from a raid down into the Borderlands, no doubt. A ragged woman crouched in a hopeless heap against the forge’s rough stone wall, clutching a babe in her arms, and a spindly girl buried her face in the woman’s skirts. Hammers rang inside, and with every ring, white light flared in the cramped windows. There was water, of a sort, an inky rivulet oozing down the rocky slope beside a gray-roofed forge. A few hundred leagues north the world was pure ice, but Thakan’dar was always dry as any desert, though always wrapped in winter. Feathery mist marked his breath, barely visible before the air drank it. Despite the steam it was bitter cold, now he did not allow himself to feel it, but instinct made him pull his fur-lined velvet cloak closer. In what was now called the Age of Legends, this had been an idyllic island in a cool sea, a favorite of those who enjoyed the rustic. Besides, here only a fool would want to see or smell or feel too clearly. The absence of saidin left him hollow, yet here only a fool would even appear ready to channel.
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He released the One Power immediately, and with the vanished sweetness went the heightened senses that made everything sharper, clearer. Across the slope steam and smoke rose from scattered vents, some holes as small as a man’s hand and some large enough to swallow ten men. Lightning streaked up at the clouds, and slow thunder rolled. Below, odd lights flashed across the barren valley, washed-out blues and reds, failing to dispel the dusky murk that shrouded their source. Above, roiling gray clouds hid the sky, an inverted sea of sluggish ashen waves crashing around the mountain’s hidden peak. chant from a children’s game heard in Great Arvalon, the Fourth Ageĭemandred stepped out onto the black slopes of Shayol Ghul, and the gateway, a hole in reality’s fabric, winked out of existence. The lions sing and the hills take flight. Manufactured in the United States of America Tor ® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC. The phrases “The Wheel of Time ® ” and “The Dragon Reborn™,” and the snake-wheel symbol, are trademarks of Robert Jordan.įrontispiece by Gregory Manchess Maps by Ellisa Mitchell Interior illustrations by Matthew C. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.Ĭopyright © 1994 by The Bandersnatch Group, Inc. If you believe the copy of this e-book you are reading infringes on the author’s copyright, please notify the publisher at: us./piracy. The Eye of the World The Great Hunt The Dragon Reborn The Shadow Rising The Fires of Heaven Lord of Chaos A Crown of Swords The Path of Daggers Winter’s Heart Crossroads of Twilight Knife of DreamsĬopyright infringement is against the law.
Robert jordan lord of chaos series#
This series is so complex, I can’t recommend starting anywhere but at the beginning, but the volumes only get richer as they go along.”
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A spectacular kidnapping and rescue bring this volume to a (temporarily) satisfying conclusion. “Jordan’s talent for sustaining the difficult combination of suspense and resolution, so necessary in a multivolume series such as this one, is nothing short of remarkable.” “For those who like to keep themselves in a fantasy world, it’s hard to beat the complex, detailed world created here.” “The most ambitious American fantasy saga. “Jordan’s multivolume epic a feast for fantasy aficionados.” It is a fantasy tale seldom equaled and still less often surpassed in English.” “The Wheel of Time rapidly becoming the definitive American fantasy saga.