Winter Is Coming, Bitches

I would just like to thank you all for joining me today in our journey into the terrifying psyche of Terry Goodkind.

I hope this was both educational and entertaining!

I also hope to see more Terry bashing in the future! Now that we are well acquainted I think you will find pissing on Terry to be a very fulfilling pastime.

As long as we are armed with our hatred for moral clarity, we cannot be defeated!

Terry’s books are popular enough to warrant a tv show. *shudders*

Called Legend of the Seeker, I’ve been told it’s only very loosely based on the books and is actually much better. I personally don’t think that’s saying much.

Unlike Game of Thrones, Legend of the Seeker was a flop and was cancelled after two seasons.

I guess the world wasn’t ready for Terry’s vision.

I think out of all the passages in The Sword of Truth, this is my favorite. So moving and inspiring with its depiction of courage as Kahlan faces the unknown.

Her power, her magic, was also a weapon of defense. But it would only work on people. It would not work on a chicken. And it would not work on wickedness incarnate.

Her gaze flicked toward the door, checking the distance. The chicken took a single hop toward her. Claws gripping Juni’s upper arm, it leaned her way. Her leg muscles tightened till they trembled.

The chicken backed up a step, tensed, and spurted feces onto Juni’s face.

It let out the cackle that sounded like a laugh.

She dearly wished she could tell herself she was being silly. Imagining things.

But she knew better.

Kahlan frantically tried to think as the chicken bawk-bawk-bawked.

“Mother,” the chicken croaked.

Kahlan flinched with a cry.

In the dark, the chicken thing let out a low chicken cackle laugh.

It hadn’t come from where she expected the chicken to be. It was behind her.

“Please, I mean no harm,” she called into the darkness. “I mean no disrespect. I will leave you to your business now, if that’s all right with you.”

She took another shuffling step toward the door. She moved carefully, slowly, in case the chicken thing was in the way. She didn’t want to bump into it and make it angry. She mustn’t underestimate it.

Kahlan had on any number of occasions thrown herself with ferocity against seemingly invincible foes. She knew well the value of a resolute violent attack. But she also somehow knew beyond doubt that this adversary could, if it wanted, kill her as easily as she could wring a real chicken’s neck. If she forced a fight, this was one she would lose.

The chicken thing let out a whispering cackle.

With the next flash of lightning, she saw chicken feet standing between her and the crack under the door. The thing wasn’t more than a foot from her face.

The beak pinched the vein on the back of her hand over her eyes. The chicken tugged, as if trying to pull a worm from the ground.

It was a command. It wanted her hand away from her eyes.

The beak gave a sharp tug on her skin. There was no mistaking the meaning in that insistent yank. Move the hand, now, it was saying, or you’ll be sorry.

If she made it angry, there was no telling what it was capable of doing to her. Juni lay dead above her as a reminder of the possibilities.

She told herself that if it pecked at her eyes, she would have to grab it and try to wring its neck. If she was quick, it could only get in one peck. She would have one eye left. She would have to fight it then. But only if it went for her eyes.

Her instincts screamed that such action would be the most foolish, dangerous thing she could do. Both the Bird Man and Richard said this was not a chicken. She no longer doubted them. But she might have no choice.

If she started, it would be a fight to the death. She held no illusion as to her chances. Nonetheless, she might be forced to fight it. With her last breath, if need be, as her father had taught her.

The chicken snatched a bigger beakful of her skin along with the vein and twisted. Last warning.

Kahlan carefully moved her trembling hand away. The chicken-thing cackled softly with satisfaction.

…Wow. Just wow. I feel like after reading that, I just really understand. You know? Life. Yeah.

I also like this passage because it shows off Terry’s considerable talents as a writer and a wordsmith. Let’s review some of his moments of brilliance:

It let out the cackle that sounded like a laugh.

In the dark, the chicken thing let out a low chicken cackle laugh.

The chicken thing let out a whispering cackle.

The chicken-thing cackled softly with satisfaction.

The chicken-thing cackled softly with satisfaction.

The chicken-thing cackled softly with satisfaction.

The chicken-thing cackled softly with satisfaction.

We’ve seen the hero of the story Richard heroically take on a young princess and a group of peaceful protesters, now let’s see what he decides to do with the civilians of the country he’s fighting!

“We must fight the war our way. We must fight it for what it really is, not armies on a field of battle acting as surrogates for ideas, but a war for the future of mankind.

As such, it is a war in which the Old World is totally committed, in which everyone on their side has dedicated themselves to the struggle. They are passionate about their cause. They believe in what they are doing. They think they have right on their side, that they are acting morally, that they are fulfilling the Creator’s wishes, and so they are justified in murdering whoever they wish in order to define how mankind will live.

All the people who believe in the ways of the Order, who contribute, who encourage, who support, who pray for their soldiers to crush us, are part of their war effort. Each of those people adds something to their cause. As such, they are just as much the enemy as the soldiers swinging the swords for them. They are the ones who feed their blades with a supply of young men and everything they need to come after us, from food to moral support and encouragement.”

Richard pointed south. “In fact, those people who make this war possible are perhaps even more of an enemy because each one is a silent enabler who wishes us harm from afar, who hates by choice, who believes that there is no consequence for them forcing their will on us.”

He drew his hands into fists. “We must bring this war home to the people who support and encourage it. It must not simply be the lives of our friends, our families, our loved ones who are thrown into the bloody cauldron these people of the Old World stoke. It must now be their lives as well.

They see this as a struggle for the future of mankind. I intend to see that it is. I want them to fully understand that if they set out to murder and subjugate us-for whatever reason-then there will be consequences.

From this day forward, we will fight a real war, a total war, a war without mercy. We will not impose pointless rules on ourselves about what is ‘fair’. Our only mandate is to win. That is the only way we, our loved ones, our freedom will survive. Our victory is all that is moral. I want any supporter of the Order to pay the price for their aggression. I want them to pay with their fortunes, their future, their very lives.

The time has come to go after these people with nothing but cold black rage in our hearts.”

Richard lifted a fist. “Crush their bones to blood and dust!”

There was a moment of silence as everyone took a collective breath, and then a thunderous cheer erupted, as if they had all secretly known that they had no chance to succeed and that they were doomed to face only death and failure in the end, but now they had been shown that there was a way. There was, at last, a real chance to save their homes and loved ones, to save the future.

“The army of the Order has the support of the people of their homeland. The soldiers of the Order each know that their families, friends, and neighbors support them. The men of the Order need to hear from those back in the Old World. What I want the men of the Order to hear are wails of agony. I want them to know that their homes are being gutted, their cities and towns leveled, their businesses and crops destroyed, and their loved ones left with nothing.

We must deny them those supplies they need to survive here in such numbers. We must cut that vital link. If the Imperial Order’s soldiers starve to death they are just as dead.

Also, the recruits coming up from the south will be much more vulnerable since they will not yet have joined up with experienced men, or be in massive numbers. They are poorly trained and little more than young thugs going off to rape and pillage. Slaughter them before they go north and have the chance. Seeing the bodies of these young heroes-to-be rotting on their doorsteps will help us crush the spirit of the people of the Old World.”

One of the men toward the back cleared his throat, then spoke up. “Lord Rahl, innocent people down there are going to die. These aren’t soldiers we will be attacking. A lot of children are going to die in this kind of thing.”

“Yes, that is unfortunately true, but don’t let your mind be clouded or your determination turned aside by such a spurious and irrelevant charge. The Order is responsible for conducting a war of aggression against innocent people who have done them no harm-including women and children. We seek only to end the aggression as swiftly as possible.

It’s true that innocent people-including children-will be hurt or killed. What is the alternative? Continuing to sacrifice good people out of fear of harming someone innocent? We are all innocent. Our children are all innocent. They are being harmed, now. The Order’s rule will eventually harm everyone, including all those children in the Old World. The Order will turn many of them into monsters. Many more people will die in the end if the Order wins.

Moreover, the lives of the people in the Old World are not our responsibility, they are the Order’s responsibility. We did not start this war and attack them-they attacked us. Our only proper course of action is to end the war as swiftly as possible. This is the only way to do that. In the end, this is the most humane thing we can do because in the end this will mean the least loss of life.”

Speechless with emotion tbh.

I feel like we can all learn something from the mercy and clemency displayed by Kahlan in this passage.

“So,” the lad said, trying to sound tough, “I guess that in my servcice to the Order I knifed someone important. That makes me a hero of the Order.”

“Make him kneel before the Mother Confessor,” General Meiffert said with quiet command.

The two soldiers kicked the back of the young man’s knees to take him down. He snickered as he knelt before her.

“So, you’re the big important whore I’ve heard so much about. Too bad you weren’t around - I’d have loved to have cut you. I guess I showed some people I’m pretty good with a knife.”

“So in my absence,” Kahlan said, “you cut a child, instead.”

“Just for practice. I’d have cut a lot more people if these big dumb oxen wouldn’t have lucked into jumping me. But I still did my duty to the Order and the Creator.”

It was the bravado of someone who knew he was about to pay the ultimate price for his actions. He was trying to convince himself that he had fulfilled a valuable service. He wanted to die a hero, and then go straight to the Creator for his reward in the afterlife.

Verna emerged from the tent. There was no hurry in her movements. Her face was ashen and drawn. Kahlan took hold of her arm, ready to help if Verna should need it.

Verna stopped when she saw the young man on his knees.

“This is him?” she asked.

Kahlan put her other hand tenderly to Verna’s back, silently offering support.

“This is him,” Kahlan confirmed.

“That’s right.” The lad sneered up at Verna. “I’m the one who knifed the enemy wizard. I’m a hero. The Order will bring relief and justice to the people, and I helped do it. Your kind is always trying to keep us down.”

“Keep you down,” Verna repeated in a dead tone.

“Those who are born with all the luck and advantages - they never want to share. I waited, but no one ever gave me a chance in life until the Order did. I’m a hero of downtrodden people everywhere. I’ve struck a blow against the oppressors of mankind. I’ve helped bring justice to those who are never given a chance. I killed an evil man. I’m a hero!”

The man on his knees grinned at Verna. “The Creator will give me my reward in the next life. I’m not afraid to die. I’ve earned eternity in his everlasting Light.”

Verna passed her gaze among the eyes of all those gathered.

“I don’t care what you do to him,” she said, “but I want to hear his screams the entire night. I want this camp to hear his screams the entire night. I want the Order’s scouts to hear his screams. That will be my tribute to Warren.”

The young man licked his lips, realizing things weren’t going as he had expected.

“That isn’t fair!” the young assassin shouted in protest.

Panic began to tremble through his body. He had been prepared for a martyr’s death, a quick end. This was something unforeseen. “He died quick. I shoud have the same condsideration! This isn’t fair!”

“Fair? What isn’t fair,” Verna said with terrible calmness, “is that your mohter ever opened her legs for your father. We shall now belatedly correct her mistake. What isn’t fair is that a good and kind man died at the hands of a sniveling little coward so lacking in sense that he is incapable of recognizing the lies he now spews out at us.

“You wish to trade your life for the one you have taken? You wish to die in a cause you foolishly believe to be noble? You shall have your wish, young man. But before you die, you shall fully understand what it is you have surrendered, how priecious is your life, and how utterly wasted. You shall come to regret your mother’s act of creation as much as do we.”

Verna nodded. “I will be indebted to you, Cara.” She started to leave, but paused. “Don’t let him die before morning, when I will come to witness it. I wish to look into his eyes and see if this young man has come to understand the nature of reality, and its lack of fairness, before he forfeits his life for nothing of worth and for his part in a great evil.”

“Mother Confessor!” The young man struggled fratically, but the soldiers had him in a firm grip. “If you’re so good as you claim, then show me mercy!”

Drool ran from the cornier of the boy’s mouth and hung swinging in rhythm with his panting.

“But I have,” Kahlan said. “I am allowing you to suffer the sentence Verna has named, and not the one I would impose.”

If only everyone was as understanding and compassionate as Kahlan! My hero. <3

Don’t let the fact that they are unarmed fool you, they can be very dangerous! Just ask Pepper Spray Cop.

They raced out from the long shadows of the buildings and poured around the corner. The people off at the end of the street all turned when they spotted Richard’s force coming. More people—men and women from the city—surged into the street in front of the compound of buildings the soldiers had taken oup as barracks and a command post. The people looked like a scraggly lot.

“No war! No war! No war!” the people shouted as Richard led the men up the street at a dead run.

“Out of the way!” Richard yelled as he closed the distance. This was no time for subtlety or discussions: the success of their attack depended in large part on speed. “Get out of the way! This is your only warning! Get out of the way or die!”

“Stop the hate! Stop the hate!” the people chanted as they locked arms.

They had no idea how much hate was raging through Richard. He drew the Sword of Truth. The wrath of its magic didn’t come out with it, but he had enough of his own. He slowed to a trot.

“Move!” Richard called as he bore down on the people.

A plump, curly-haired woman took a step out from the others. Her round face was red with anger as she screamed. “Stop the hate! No war! Stop the hate! No war!”

“Move or die!” Richard yelled as he picked up speed.

The red-faced woman shook her fleshy fist at Richard and his men, leading an angry chant. “Murderers! Murderers! Murderers!”

On his way past her, gritting his teeth as he screamed with the fury of the attack begun, Richard took a powerful swing, lopping off the woman’s head and upraised arm. Strings of blood and gore splashed across the faces behind her even as some still chanted their empty words. The head and loose arm tumbled through the crowd. A man mad the mistake of reaching for Richard’s weapon, and took the full weight of a charging thrust.

Men behind Richard hit the line of evil’s guardians with unrestrained violence. People armed only with their hatred for moral clarity fell bloodied, terribly injured, and dead. The line of people collapsed before the merciless charge. Some of the people, screaming their contempt, used their fists to attack Richard’s men. They were met with swift and deadly steel.

At the realization that their defense of the Imperial Order’s brutality would actually result in consequences to themselves, the crowd began scattering in fright, screaming curses back at Richard and his men.

Hatred of moral clarity is far more dangerous than one might think. The more you know!

Now that we’ve seen the heroic Richard Rahl in action, it’s time for Kahlan’s turn!

She retuned to Demmin Nass, who stood where he had been told to wait.

There were tears in his eyes. “Please, Mistress, command me.”

Kahlan pulled a knife from his belt, ignoring his request. With her other hand, she unfastened the flanged battle mace from its hook. “Take off you pants.” She waited until he had pulled them off and stood once more before her. “Kneel.”

The coldness of her voice sent a shiver through Zedd as he watched the big man kneel before her.

“Spread your legs,” she ordered in an icy voice. She reached down between his legs, gripping him in one hand. He flinched, grimaced. “Don’t move,” she warned. He became still. “How many of the little boys you’ve molested have you killed?”

“I don’t know, Mistress. I don’t keep count. I’ve done it for many years, since I was young. I don’t always kill them. Most live.”

“Make a good guess.”

He thought a moment. “More than eighty. Less than one hundred twenty.”

“I’m going to cut these off. When I do, I don’t want you to make a sound,” she whispered. “Not one sound. Don’t even flinch.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Look into my eyes. I wish to see it in your eyes.”

Her arm with the knife strained, and jerked up. The blade came up red.

Demmin’s knuckles around the mace were white.

The Mother Confessor rose to her feet in front of him. “Hold out your hand.”

Demmin held a shaking hand before her. She put the bloody sack in his palm.

“Eat them.”

Overcome with emotion at this display of the nobility of the human spirit tbh.

It’s time for our first example of great and heroic deeds performed by Richard Rahl, in which he is confronted by an 8 year old princess.

Princess Violet glared at him. “My mother says that Confessor Kahlan will come back and that we’ll have a surprise for her the next time she comes here. I just want you to know because my mother said you’ll be dead by then. My mother says I get to decide what to do to her. First, I’m going to cut off her hair. “ Her hands were in fists, her face red. “Then I’m going to let all the guards rape her, every one! Then I’m going to put her in the dungeon for a few years so they’ll have someone to play with! Then when I get tired of hurting her, I’ll have her head chopped off and put it on a pole where I can watch it rot!”

Richard actually felt sorry for the little Princess. The sadness for her came over him in a wave. At that feeling, he was surprised to feel the thing in him that had come awake rise up.

Princess Violet squeezed her eyes shut, stuck her tongue out far as she could.

It was like a red flag.

The strength of the awakened power exploded through him. He could feel her jaw shatter like a crystal goblet on a stone floor when his boot came up under it. The impact of the blow lifted the Princess into the air. Her own teeth severed her tongue before they, too, shattered. She landed on her back, a good distance away, trying to scream through the gushing blood.

…let’s examine that last bit again…

He could feel her jaw shatter like a crystal goblet on a stone floor when his boot came up under it.

The impact of the blow lifted the Princess into the air.

Her own teeth severed her tongue before they, too, shattered.

She landed on her back, a good distance away, trying to scream through the gushing blood.

…so heroic, I am crying.

Let us move onto his work!

Now, in that interview he states multiple times that his characters are heroes who perform great deeds. After all, there is no point in writing unless you are going to glorify the human spirit and all it is capable of.

I’m going to post a few more quotes from Terry about the importance of heroism just to drive the point home even more (and I want you to remember these when you read the passages I post!)

“a story is a representation of the author’s values. When you share those values, when you have the same values as the author, you’re reading a story and seeing your values which may be difficult to understand in daily life because they take place over such a long range.”

“Sam Raimi is a person who believes in heroes. His Spider-Man movies are obviously about a heroic person who’s rising up to challenges. Sam was instrumental in making that movie about a real person. He understood that [Spider-Man] is about a real individual who had to rise to challenges and be heroic. He strongly believes in the sacredness in heroes for all of us, for kids and adults alike. That’s something that really drew him to Wizard’s First Rule: he loves the characters; he loves the heroic aspects of [the story].”

“The main characters are Richard and Kahlan. They think like I do because they’re my heroes. They are people I admire and look up to, and I have them reflect the kind of thinking that, to me, is heroic thinking.”

They think like I do because they’re my heroes. They are people I admire and look up to, and I have them reflect the kind of thinking that, to me, is heroic thinking.

They think like I do because they’re my heroes. They are people I admire and look up to, and I have them reflect the kind of thinking that, to me, is heroic thinking.

I cannot emphasize this point enough.

So, about these two characters: Richard Rahl and his lady friend Kahlan.

Kahlan gets threatened with rape a lot. Richard saves her from rape a lot. Richard also likes to make long speeches about how awesome Objectivism is. He is a great leader or something. He wields the Sword of Truth. It’s a sword…with the word Truth engraved onto it.

I think that’s all we need to know about these characters.

I can’t wait to see what heroic deeds they get up to!

*I HAVEN’T ACTUALLY READ THE BOOKS BUT I FEEL LIKE I AM QUALIFIED TO RIP THEM APART ANYWAY*