Hand count

[Creator]

Okay, I know it was a small poll, but everything was so quiet! I needed to talk to internet people who I can be more comfortable with. I recently joined an RPG and I keep on making mistakes on it. I get so embarrassed. So, I decided to try to liven things up here. I think Rand is going to die. I just don't think that after all this talk about him going to die RJ would let him live. It just doesn't seem like his style. The only problem with my idea is that RJ always makes things happen that I don't want to happen, so I don't see how he could give me this one scrap of meat.

[Liandra]

I believe he's going to live... Just because RJ - in all the books he wrote about WoT - never ever killed one of his major characters. (Well, he did kill Moiraine, I admit, but even that kill seems to be very doubtful.)
One could also say because RJ never killed a major character, would be a reason to kill the mean character in the end. I know.
Then why do I believe Rand won't die? It's just a feeling, then, really.
Perhaps he will die, as Nicola foretold, and then be braught back, one way or another.

Aaah... Nevermind, I'll just RAFO here.

[Shandy]

I'm not positive either way, but I'm leaning more towards the "He'll live" option. Didn't Min have a vision that either Lews Therin or Rand would die, and the other would live? And then there's Nicola's foretelling. I agree with Liandra... I think he's going to be brought back somehow.

[Squilo]

<---------- agrees with liandra, there has been to much of Lewsy ranting about wanting to die for him to die. when RJ makes an emphasis on how someting is going to happen, it most likely wont. (eggy and nynny getting busted for pretending to be AS, healing stilling, the BA not existing) so i believe rand most certainly is going to live

[Shikoba]

I think he should die just 'cuz it would be a more interesting ending.

[Terje]

Shandy said:

I'm not positive either way, but I'm leaning more towards the "He'll live" option. Didn't Min have a vision that either Lews Therin or Rand would die, and the other would live? And then there's Nicola's foretelling. I agree with Liandra... I think he's going to be brought back somehow.

Ooo , never thought of it this way before...
But what about the guy inside LTTs head?

Shikoba: I don't think the ending should be like that; Hobb's Farseer trilogy was kinda like that and that made me dislike the entire series... There should always be a happy ending (see Pratchett for further info on this...)

[Shikoba]

See, I'm prone to like depressing things rather than happy endings...as I've said, Edward Scissorhands is the greatest movie & Fyodor Dostoevsky is the greatest non-fantasy author. I admit I have slightly morbid tendencies...

I'm sure WoT will have a happy ending, or at least a bitter-sweet one [which is what I'm hoping for]

[WolfGaidin]

I don't see Rand die either. Killing Rand is so unlike RJ. To be honest, I think RJ himself will die before he'll even get to the point where Rand might die. (So in that case Rand will neither live nor die... )

[Liandra]

WolfGaidin said:

I don't see Rand die either. Killing Rand is so unlike RJ. To be honest, I think RJ himself will die before he'll even get to the point where Rand might die. (So in that case Rand will neither live nor die... )

Something like that cat in the box RJ talked about when he came to the Netherlands...

[Shikoba]

Very good point, but I'm still holding out for Rand to DIE!!!

[WolfGaidin]

Liandra said:

Something like that cat in the box RJ talked about when he came to the Netherlands...

OMG, I think I forgot that story... Please, do tell!

[Liandra]

WolfGaidin said:

OMG, I think I forgot that story... Please, do tell!

Yeah, right. Like you really would like to hear that story again...
Anyway, you can read it here: home.wanadoo.nl/nynaeve/april4th.html

[WolfGaidin]

Liandra said:

Yeah, right. Like you really would like to hear that story again...
Anyway, you can read it here: home.wanadoo.nl/nynaeve/april4th.html

Ah, now I remember Schrödinger's Cat. I had really forgotten that story. I do understand it now (so I'm ready for higher physics - yay...), but I didn't back then in Leiden. I didn't even understand what he said, that evening, so that might explain.

(While writing this, a black bird is landing just in front of my window - at 18th level - , looking at me... The Dark One must have sent his eyes to watch me... )

[Terje]

I just couldn't resist: ;D

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
" 'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door;
Only this, and nothing more."


Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lenore,.
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore,
Nameless here forevermore.


And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me---filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
" 'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door.
This it is, and nothing more."


Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is, I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you." Here I opened wide the door;---
Darkness there, and nothing more.


Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word,
Lenore?, This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word,
"Lenore!" Merely this, and nothing more.


Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping, something louder than before,
"Surely," said I, "surely, that is something at my window lattice.
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore.
Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore.
" 'Tis the wind, and nothing more."


Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven, of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door.
Perched upon a bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door,
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.


Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly, grim, and ancient raven, wandering from the nightly shore.
Tell me what the lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore."
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."


Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door,
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."


But the raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered;
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before;
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."


Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master, whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster, till his songs one burden bore,---
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never---nevermore."


But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore --
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

Thus I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl, whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er
She shall press, ah, nevermore!


Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee -- by these angels he hath
Sent thee respite---respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, O quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"


"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted--
On this home by horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore:
Is there--is there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me I implore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."


"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil--prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that heaven that bends above us--by that God we both adore--
Tell this soul with sorrow laden, if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden, whom the angels name Lenore---
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels name Lenore?
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."


"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting--
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! -- quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."


And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming.
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted---nevermore!

[Shikoba]

hehehehe...how original is that? But I love Poe, so I'll let you slide a bit.

THE AJAH IS BLACK by...uh...Moirane and the Beatles

Oh dear, what can I do?
The ajah is black and I’m just a blue
Tell me, oh what can I do?

They’re after him and their shawls are black
And since he’s the Dragon come back
He’s stalked by the black.

Oh dear, what can I do?
The ajah is black and I’m just a blue
Tell me, oh what can I do?

Just to think of the ways they’ll try to trap him
And they only serve the dark one’s whim
to destroy him

That woolhead can’t keep himself safe
So I can’t afford to make a mistake

Oh dear, what can I do?
The ajah is black and I’m just a blue
Tell me, oh what can I do?