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asha-mage · 7 months

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I feel like I am going to be having random WoT Finale thoughts for the next six months, but one I especially want to hit up now:

The actual logistics of the Whitecloak attack on Falme, from the military tactics to the geo politics of it all are so perfectly on point that it's like something Jordan would have written himself.

In the books the Whitecloaks are on Tomon Head for unrelated reasons to the Seanchan (ones that would be hard to establish properly in a tv format where we don't have the time to follow Bornhold Sr for six odd scenes), so the show runners shifted it so that they are explicitly answering a call for aid from a foreign throne. The Whitecloaks are a autonomous military body beholden to no nation that operates with pseudo-legality in most places that are not under their influence, and the idea of expanding that influence to another nation is far to tempting to resist, especially when no other power is answering the Falme's call for aid, including the White Tower, who are the Whitecloak's primary rival. On principles it seems like they are stepping up to help a victimized nation that the 'witches' have abandoned, or even orchestrated the fall of.

And then on a practical level, the actual tactics they employ are fiendishly clever. Using incense burners to create a fog to hide their approach and blunt the effectiveness of the enemy channelers (who need to be able to see something to target their weaves). This also makes sense on a world building level- the Whitecloaks probably have a dozen tactics in their back pockets to deal with an outright war against the Aes Sedai if it ever breaks out. Then once the Whitecloaks close up to the walls, they send in their cavalry first, to overwhelm enemy defenses before they can get the gates shut, then send in the infantry to secure and pacify the remaining resistance not taken out by the shock charge. At this point the Seanchan have to focus their fighting to the streets of Falme, and the best way to do that is to gather their damane on the nearby tower and rain down artillery fire in an attempt to break the Whitecloaks into retreat- a brutal strategy likely to result in the deaths of their own troops and civilians, but necessary if they are going to have any hope of holding the city.

And then is where things get INSANE. See, conventional medieval military wisdom dictates that in a situation where the gates are breached already siege engines have no use. Their too clumsy, taking to much time to aim and fire to be much use in a melee brawl like this. Siege engines are useful for breaking fortifications, toppling walls, etc, so if used offensively almost always come out first. That means that no one is expecting them to roll out of that fog and hurl stones at the damane's position. In one strike Bornhold Senior decapitates the enemy's primary advantage over him and tilts the battle in his favor. (And even if the damane had managed to counter the strike, they would be weakened significantly, having to focus on blocking further attacks and counter attacking the siege engines- not easy with the fog- instead of keeping the fighting in the streets under control).

This might be one of those things that only I care about, but good employment of medieval military tactics combined with magical fantasy elements always makes me go

#WoT #Wheel of Time #WoT On Prime #Wheel of Time on Prime #Geofram Bornhald #Dain Bornhold #WoT s2 e8 #Emond Valda #This is the kind of shit Jordan would have done and it makes me go BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR #Geofram Bornhold out here gunning for Great Captain status #Seanchan #Wot Musing #Wot Meta #Wheel of Time meta #Children of the Light #Whitecloaks

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kevin-sedai · 7 months

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"Renna. I will kill you."

Say it loud, say it proud.

#egwene al'vere #wheel of time #wot s2 #wot show spoilers #wot amazon #seanchan #renna

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wot-tidbits · 2 months

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#wheel of time #spoiler #a memory of light #rand al'thor #seanchan #wot meme

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wafflelovingbatgirl · 9 months

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The crowd is only women in dresses, stained at the knee and around the hem like they’ve been kneeling in mud.

Perhaps the Seanchan have gathered women to test and maybe collar as damane in Falme? That would be an interesting parallel to Nynaeve being tested for Accepted and a way to build dread if we see this before Egwene arrives.

#wheel of time season 2 spoilers #wheel of time season 2 #wheel of time #wot #wot on prime #seanchan

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an-s-sedai · 7 months

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Have seen a few show-onlies say that book readers told them that Egwene's damane training was fade to black in the books. um??? did we read the same books??

Excerpts from The Great Hunt below the cut...

"Balling her fist tightly, Egwene hit the woman as hard as she could, right in her eye—and staggered and fell to her knees herself, head ringing. It felt as if a large man had struck her in the face."

“The very first thing you must learn,” Renna said, “is to do exactly as you are told, and without delay.” Egwene gasped. Suddenly her skin burned and prickled as if she had rolled in stinging nettles, from the soles of her feet to her scalp. She tossed her head as the burning sensation increased. “Many sul’dam,” Renna went on in that almost friendly tone, “do not believe damane should be allowed names, or at least only names they are given. But I am the one who took you, so I will be in charge of your training, and I will allow you to keep your own name. If you do not displease me too far. I am mildly upset with you now. Do you really wish to keep on until I am angry?” Quivering, Egwene gritted her teeth. Her nails dug into her palms with the effort of not scratching wildly. Idiot! It’s only your name. “Egwene,” she managed to get out. “I am Egwene al’Vere.” Instantly the burning itch was gone. She let out a long, unsteady breath. “Egwene,” Renna said. “That is a good name.” And to Egwene’s horror, Renna patted her on the head as she would a dog.

“No!” Egwene shouted. She heard Renna curse softly, and suddenly the burning itch covered her skin again, worse than before, but she did not stop. “Please! High Lady, please! She is my friend!” Pain such as she had never known wracked her through the burning. Every muscle knotted and cramped; she pitched on her face in the dirt, mewling, but she could still see Elbar’s heavy, curved blade come free of its sheath, see him raise it with both hands. “Please! Oh, Min!” Abruptly, the pain was gone as if it had never been; only the memory remained.

Egwene cried out as a switch seemed to lash across her back, then another across her leg, her arm. From every direction they seemed to come; she knew there was nothing to block, but she could not help throwing her arms about as if to stop the blows. She bit her lip to stifle her moans, but tears still rolled down her cheeks. Bela whinnied and danced, but Renna’s grip on the silver leash kept her from carrying Egwene away. None of the soldiers even looked back. “What are you doing to her?” Min shouted. “Egwene? Stop it!” “You live on sufferance . . . Min, is it?” Renna said mildly. “Let this be a lesson for you as well. So long as you try to interfere, it will not stop.” Min raised a fist, then let it fall. “I won’t interfere. Only, please, stop it. Egwene, I’m sorry.” The unseen blows went on for a few moments more, as if to show Min her intervention had done nothing, then ceased, but Egwene could not stop shuddering. The pain did not go away this time. She pushed back the sleeve of her dress, thinking to see weals; her skin was unmarked, but the feel of them was still there.

Suddenly the invisible switches were back, striking at her everywhere. Yelling, she tried to hit Renna, but the sul’dam casually knocked her fist away, and Egwene felt as if Renna had hit her arm with a stick. She dug her heels into Bela’s flanks, but the sul’dam’s grip on the leash nearly pulled her out of her saddle. Frantically she reached for saidar, meaning to hurt Renna enough to make her stop, just the kind of hurt she herself had been given. The sul’dam shook her head wryly; Egwene howled as her own skin was suddenly scalded. Not until she fled from saidar completely did the burn begin to fade, and the unseen blows never ceased or slowed. She tried to shout that she would try, if only Renna would stop, but all she could manage was to scream and writhe. Dimly, she was aware of Min shouting angrily and trying to ride to her side, of Alwhin tearing Min’s reins from her hands, of another sul’dam speaking sharply to her damane, who looked at Min. And then Min was yelling, too, arms flapping as if trying to ward off blows or beat away stinging insects. In her own pain, Min’s seemed distant. Their cries together were enough to make some of the soldiers twist in their saddles. After one look, they laughed and turned back. How sul’dam dealt with damane was no affair of theirs. To Egwene it seemed to go on forever, but at last there was an end. She lay sprawled weakly across the cantle of her saddle, cheeks wet with tears, sobbing into Bela’s mane. The mare whickered uneasily. “It is good that you have spirit,” Renna said calmly. “The best damane are those who have spirit to be shaped and molded.” Egwene squeezed her eyes shut. She wished she could close her ears, too, to shut out Renna’s voice. I have to get away. I have to, but how? Nynaeve, help me. Light, somebody help me. “You will be one of the best,” Renna said in tones of satisfaction. Her hand stroked Egwene’s hair, a mistress soothing her dog.

That was one of the properties of the a’dam; if a damane tried to channel without a sul’dam wearing her bracelet, she felt sick, and the more of the Power she channeled, the sicker she became. Lighting a candle beyond the reach of her arm would have made Egwene vomit. Once Renna had ordered her to juggle her tiny balls of light with the bracelet lying on the table. Remembering still made her shudder. Now, the silver leash snaked across the bare floor and up the unpainted wooden wall to where the bracelet hung on a peg. The sight of it hanging there made her jaws clench with fury. A dog leashed so carelessly could have run away. If a damane moved her bracelet as much as a foot from where it had last been touched by a sul’dam. . . . Renna had made her do that, too—had made her carry her own bracelet across the room. Or try to. She was sure it had only been minutes before the sul’dam snapped the bracelet firmly on her own wrist, but to Egwene the screaming and the cramps that had had her writhing on the floor had seemed to go on for hours.

“They can’t even help themselves, Min. I only talked to one—her name is Ryma; the sul’dam don’t call her that, but that’s her name; she wanted to make sure I knew it—and she told me there is another. She told me in between bouts of tears. She’s Aes Sedai, and she was crying, Min! She has a collar on her neck, they make her answer to Pura, and she can’t do anything more about it than I can. They captured her when Falme fell. She was crying because she’s beginning to stop fighting against it, because she cannot take being punished anymore. She was crying because she wants to take her own life, and she cannot even do that without permission. Light, I know how she feels!”

Egwene took a deep breath and reached for the hilt. A soft quiver ran through the muscles of her arm. As her hand came within a foot of the knife, a cramp suddenly contorted her fingers. Eyes fixed, she tried to force her hand closer. The cramp seized her whole arm, knotting muscles to her shoulder. With a groan, she sank back, rubbing her arm and concentrating her thoughts on not touching the knife. Slowly, the pain began to lessen.

Egwene went on dully, as if the other woman had not spoken. “They are training me, Min. The sul’dam and the a’dam are training me. I cannot touch anything I even think of as a weapon. A few weeks ago I considered hitting Renna over the head with that pitcher, and I could not pour wash water for three days. Once I’d thought of it that way, I not only had to stop thinking about hitting her with it, I had to convince myself I would never, under any circumstances, hit her with it before I could touch it again. She knew what had happened, told me what I had to do, and would not let me wash anywhere except with that pitcher and bowl. You are lucky it happened between your visiting days. Renna made sure I spent those days sweating from the time I woke to the time I fell asleep, exhausted. I am trying to fight them, but they are training me as surely as they’re training Pura.” She clapped a hand to her mouth, moaning through her teeth. “Her name is Ryma. I have to remember her name, not the name they’ve put on her. She is Ryma, and she’s Yellow Ajah, and she has fought them as long and as hard as she could. It is no fault of hers that she hasn’t the strength left to fight any longer. I wish I knew who the other sister is that Ryma mentioned. I wish I knew her name. Remember both of us, Min. Ryma, of the Yellow Ajah, and Egwene al’Vere. Not Egwene the damane; Egwene al’Vere of Emond’s Field. Will you do that?”

“You have been channeling.” Renna’s voice was deceptively mild; there was a spark of anger in her eyes. “You know that is forbidden except when we are complete.” Egwene wet her lips. “Perhaps I have been too lenient with you. Perhaps you believe that because you are valuable now, you will be allowed license. I think I made a mistake letting you keep your old name. I had a kitten called Tuli when I was a child. From now on, your name is Tuli. You will go now, Min. Your visiting day with Tuli is ended.” Min hesitated only long enough for one anguished look at Egwene before leaving. Nothing Min could say or do would do anything except make matters worse, but Egwene could not help looking longingly at the door as it closed behind her friend. Renna took the chair, frowning at Egwene. “I must punish you severely for this. We will both be called to the Court of the Nine Moons—you for what you can do; I as your sul’dam and trainer—and I will not allow you to disgrace me in the eyes of the Empress. I will stop when you tell me how much you love being damane and how obedient you will be after this. And, Tuli. Make me believe every word.”

Outside in the low-ceilinged hallway, Min dug her nails into her palms at the first piercing cry from the room. She took a step toward the door before she could stop herself, and when she did stop, tears sprang up in her eyes. Light help me, all I can do is make it worse. Egwene, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Feeling worse than useless, she picked up her skirts and ran, and Egwene’s screams pursued her. She could not make herself stay, and leaving made her feel a coward. Half blind with weeping, she found herself in the street before she knew it. She had intended to go back to her room, but now she could not do it. She could not stand the thought that Egwene was being hurt while she sat warm and safe under the next roof. Scrubbing the tears from her eyes, she swept her cloak around her shoulders and started down the street. Every time she cleared her eyes, new tears began trickling along her cheeks. She was not accustomed to weeping openly, but then she was not accustomed to feeling so helpless, so useless. She did not know where she was going, only that it had to be as far as she could reach from Egwene’s cries.

[Egwene] gave an abrupt squeak. “That’s Seta. How . . . ?” Her voice hardened so that Nynaeve barely recognized it. “I’d like to put her in a pot of boiling water.” Seta had her eyes squeezed shut, and her hands clutched her skirts; she was trembling. “What have they done to you?” Elayne exclaimed. “What could they do to make you want something like that?” Egwene never took her eyes off the Seanchan woman. “I’d like to make her feel it. That’s what she did to me, made me feel like I was neck deep in. . . .” She shuddered. “You do not know what it is like wearing one of these, Elayne. You don’t know what they can do to you. I can never decide whether Seta is worse than Renna, but they’re all hateful.”

Suddenly Egwene threw herself against Nynaeve, sobbing raggedly at her breast. “She hurt me, Nynaeve. She hurt me. They all did. They hurt me, and hurt me, until I did what they wanted. I hate them. I hate them for hurting me, and I hate them because I couldn’t stop them from making me do what they wanted.”

#wheel of time #the great hunt #wot books #wot on prime #egwene al'vere #sul'dam #damane #seanchan #wot book spoilers

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munroemagic · 3 months

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#magic #the wheel of time #wheel of time #wot on prime #wotedit #rand al'thor #rand #the dragon reborn #seanchan #channeling #witch #fire weaves #fire magic

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highladyluck · 4 months

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I love the horrible Seanchan step pyramid palanquin that appears after the night battle where they took the town. I also love the immediate juxtaposition of Rand stepping up at work to more well-off & powerful patients, filling the shoes of the guy he murdered. Let’s climb up in the world through violence together :)

#wheel of time #wot on prime #wot on prime s2 #WoT on prime s2e2 #rand al'thor #Seanchan #I just imagined someone blackout texting this post #so it just says ‘I love the horrible Seanchan’

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dropoff99 · 7 months

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Moderate Wheel of Time Book Spoilers ahead:

I can’t speak for the WoT community but seeing WoT discourse for over 20 years I’ve seen all kinds of takes on the Seanchan but there seems to be some confusion on their role in the story overall from show audiences so I will simply give my take.

The Seanchan are a civilization that was needed to demonstrate that the forces of the shadow aren’t the only major threat to Randland. There are several examples like this in the story of groups who have degrees of selfishness, cruelty, and prejudice but none as strong as the Seanchan. These include the Whitecloaks, the Red Ajah(Elaida), Shaido, Tairen/Cairhienin Lords, and generally anyone with bigoted ideas or power-hungry agendas who aren’t darkfriends or members of the shadow. The shadow uses these people and groups as useful tools to enact the dark ones bidding.

The Seanchan aren’t inherently “evil” (only the shadow/forsaken/dark one really occupy that role) but of course do lots of evil things and are more or less the worst active group in the story outside of the shadow. They are manipulated by the shadow (forsaken) which the show pretty much tells you but doesn’t go into how far back that goes. But they also don’t need a lot of help when it comes to being awful. The only defense of them you will really find among the fan base are things cited directly from the books or individual characters that were redeemable.

For example, once you swear oaths to Seanchan rule they more or less leave you alone (aside from the channelers obviously). They eliminate crime and corruption (though not from their own ranks as effectively) and arguably treat their citizens more fairly than many kingdoms they conquer. This is all governed by a strict legal code and honor culture followed in their society. Jordan demonstrates the downside of that culture and how it has developed and been exploited to thwart and enslave Aes Sedai and channelers.

The Seanchan are a major example (along with the Aiel) of how morality and ethics change among cultures after long periods of isolation. They have been across the Aryth Ocean for 1,000 years and their knowledge of their own history isn’t much more than legend. The people they are invading know their pre-history better than they do (particularly that of their founder Artur Hawkwing).

But ultimately they are pretty horrible. They will annihilate anything that opposes them. What they do to channelers and those who show the slightest disobedience is indefensible. They are more or less a demonstration of how “evil” a society can become when you marry ignorance/bigotry with enormous military power.

This is all just to say that if you see a book reader defending the Seanchan in any way, it likely is related to how effective they were at fulfilling a certain role in the series, not due to some sort of agreement with their world view. But even that is kind of rare because they just simply aren’t that popular and only have a couple characters that are really relevant in the long run despite having a constant presence. They are baddies who aren’t the shadow but are still awful/scary.

#wheel of time #robert jordan #books #fantasy #tv #seanchan #the great hunt

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