A package for Daria Morgendorffer containing ( Read more... )

From WoT7, Ch. 15: Insects. Sammael of the Forsaken is speaking.

'"Once, long ago, I saw three Myrddraal make a man give them his wife and his daughters one by one, then beg them to cut off his right leg, then the left, then his arms, and burn out his eyes." The perfectly ordinary conversational tone made the recitation worse than any shouts or ( Read more... )

The snow never bothered Mesaana. She could not feel the cold, even dressed only in her house robe, nightgown, and slippers. Though her slippers were becoming damp rather quickly. That would be amended shortly.

She could feel Saidar. Her student was practicing, or so she hoped. She had seized the Source herself but kept it hidden. It never hurt to ( Read more... )

"Again ( Read more... )

Okay, ask questions of the Forsaken here, any of them, any incarnation: Asmodean, Ishamael, or Mesaana.

Also, you can ask questions of Amy and I's shared pup (since I'm the first to post this), Lyrae Addam, Asmodean's Mother.

Go ahead. You know you want to.

It had been quiet ( Read more... )

A silvery portal opened and Astoreth and Mesaana stepped through the silvery slash. The low hum of the air exchanger was all the sound that could be heard for a brief moment. The glowbulbs cast the whole room in white light. Mesaana's simple elegant furniture seemed to crowd around them ( Read more... )

As the portal closed behind them, Mesaana glanced back at Fred. The glow bulbs poured soft light onto the white walkway and the garden of beautiful crimson flowers. The stars were lit above, and faded slightly in the direction of the gleaming crystalline spires of the city in the distance. Darkness lay across the rolling green fields and plains in ( Read more... )

The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the Second Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose in the Mountains of Corinin. The wind was not the beginning. There are ( Read more... )

Mesaana's nails clicked on the counter impatiently as she leaned forward on the dresser. A slight sigh as she pursed her lips. Her pale blue dress hung open across her back as she leaned forward ( Read more... )