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Just finished MoI Just a lengthy recap of my thoughts

#1 User is offline   Daisy 

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Posted 18 May 2012 - 05:25 PM

I just finished sobbing my way through Chapter 25 and the epilogue. Lord have mercy. I have never cried so hard while reading a book ever in my life. I feel like I just went on a long journey on a roller coaster of emotions. I cannot even fathom the amount of tears shed over that ending… Memories of Ice. Steven Erikson is a king.

Now, I'm going to torture myself all over again and go through all the bookmarks I made while reading and describe what it was I was thinking and feeling at that moment and why these sections were bookmarked in the first place. Here we go:



Chapter Two:

'You, sapper,' the Barghast said, 'are the scum beneath a pebble in a stream running through a field of sickly pigs.' 'Good one, though a tad long-winded. Got the captain'd head spinning, have ya?'

An excellent come-back. Adding it to the list of things to call my siblings when I'm fuming. And I though I was creative…

Chapter Four:

"Or a Rhivi,' Hedge muttered. 'Who's that figure in the middle - the one with the dog-head on his chest?' 'How should I know? Anyway, I'd say the whole thing is pretty fresh. Recent, I mean.' … 'It's a new card. Unaligned, without an aspect…'

When I first read this part, I though the man with the dog-head on his chest was Coltaine and that he had ascended somehow. Come on, I mean, dogs-head, Chain of Dogs anyone? I guess I was just too attached to Deadhouse Gates. I realized later int he book, when the Trygalle Trading Guild was getting reading to go to Seven Cities that the time frame was sort of matched up to Deadhouse and that Coltaine was not even dead yet lol. It definitely makes so much more sense that this Ascendant was Paran because he escaped Dragnipur and released two Hounds of Shadow. Paran is my own personal Hound-man. Master of the Deck<3333

Chapter Five

Toc scowled. 'How could you tell how good he was when he didn't even get his swords clear of their scabbards?' 'He parried my attacks with them none the less.' 'Toc's lone eye slowly widened. 'He parried you with half-drawn blades?'

LOL my jaw dropped at this. Half-drawn blades? King Erikson's imagination knows no bounds.

Chapter Five

The skulls faced inward, and he could see by the long, yellowed molars in the jaws that the animals had been eaters of plants, not flesh.

Oh Erikson, your anthropology is showing.

Chapter Seven

'Onos is "clanless man". T' is "broken". Ool is "veined" while lan is "flint" and in combination T'oolan is "flawed flint".' Toc stared at the T'lan Imass for a long moment. 'Flawed flint.' 'There are layers of meaning.' 'I'd guessed.' 'From single core are struck blades, each finding its own use. If veins or knots or crystal lie hidden within the heart of the core, the shaping of the blades cannot be predicted. Each blow to the core break off useless pieces - hinge-fractured, step-fractured. Useless. Thus it was with the family in which I was born. Struck wrong, each and all.' 'Tool, I see no flaws in you.'

There you go again with your anthropology you ingenious man you. Looking back on this makes my heart ache. Toc and Tool were always brothers.

Chapter seven

'Not your concern, this fight,' Gethol hissed. 'The fight with this mortal?' Bek Okhan asked. 'No. However, Jaghut, you are.' 'I am Hood's Herald - do you dare challenge a servant of the lord of death?' The T'lan Imass's desiccated lips peeled back. 'Why would we hesitate, Jaghut? Now ask of your lord, does he dare challenge us?'

Everyone seemed to be sticking it to Hood in this book.

Chapter eight

The commander's eyes narrowed on the helmet. 'By the Abyss, the Holy Protector wore that!' The man nodded solemnly. 'And when Dassem's sword clipped it, it went flying, sir. Right into my arms.' 'And the fiddle followed?"

I just knew Fiddler got his name from a fiddle! Every time I saw his name in Deadhouse I thought hey fiddle, fiddle, the cat and the diddle, the cow jumped over the moon. I miss Fiddler so much. And Kalam. And Crokus, and Apsalar and Moby and even Iskaral Pust…

Chapter nine

'Why, Toc the Younger, have you forgotten? Your T'lan Imass companion has said that the secrets of the Morn Rent can only be found within the Domin… You are very easily exasperated my dear. If you're a leaf trembling on a wide, deep river, relax and ride the current…'

Oh my goodness, looking back on this quote right here; what an obvious clue as what the Pannion was all about. The Morn Rent was where Kilava had thrown the two Jaghut children to save them. When I found out the Pannion Seer was a Jaghut, that's when I knew for sure.

Chapter Fourteen

Itkovian already regretted the decision. He muttered a soft, lengthy curse at his own impetuosity. Fights like a boar? Gods, no, this man is a big, plains-hunting cat. He has bulk, aye, but it passes unnoticed behind a deadly grace. Fener save us all, the Tiger of Summer's ghost walks in this man's shadow.

I don't know why reading this made me super excited. Hence the change of scenery on my tumblr.

Chapter Fifteen

'…They had no hands, but swords in their stead, somehow melded to the very bones of their forearms. The K'Chain Che'Malle were matriarchal, matrilineal. As a population of bees have their queen, so too these beasts. She is the breeder, the mother of every child. And within this Matron resided the sorcerous capacity of her entire family. Power to beggar the gods of today. Power to keep the Elder Gods from coming to this world, and were it not for the self-destruction of the K'Chain Che'Malle, they would rule unchallenged to this day.'


Thinking of K'Chain Che'Malle all I could picture were necromorphs.

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Chapter Fifteen

'A curious assertion, dear.'

'I ain't.'

'Pardon, you ain't what?'

'Curious. Listen, the Malazan Empire would be a far different thing if Whiskeyjack had taken the throne all those years ago. If he'd done what we all wanted him to do and grabbed Laseen by the scruff of the neck and sent her through a tower window.' …

'So, why then, Kruppe asks in wonder, did he not do so at the time?'

'Because he's a soldier, you idiot. Laseen's taking the throne was messy enough. The whole empire was shaky. People start stabbing and jumping into a blood-wet throne and sometimes it don't stop, sometimes it's like dominoes, right? One after another after another, and the whole thing falls apart. He was the one we all looked to, right? Waiting to see how he'd take it, Laseen and all that. And when he just saluted and said, "Yes, Empress," well, things just settled back down.'

'He was giving her a chance, you see.'

'Of course. And do you lasses now believe he made a mistake?'

The women shrugged in unison. 'Don't matter, now,' one said. 'We're here and here's here and that's that'…

As he disappeared into the gloom the two marines said nothing for a time, busy as they were licking the sap from their fingers.

Then one sighed.

The other followed suit.

'Well?'

'Ah, that was damned easy.'

'Think so?'

'Sure. He came expecting to find two brains and found barely one.'

'Still, it might've babbled too much.'

'That's the nature of half-brains, love. T'do otherwise would've made him suspicious.'

Aw man, the two marines. So sad that we never got their names. We got some interesting Malazan history here though, Apparently Whiskeyjack could've assumed the role of Emperor. Oh, how that would've changed things.

Chapter Seventeen

His eyes saw, but his mind failed in registering the devastation to either side of the path they now ran down towards the north gate. He felt himself shutting down inside, even as he slipped and staggered through the human ruin… shutting down as he had once before, years ago, on a road in Itko Kan.

The hand of vengeance stayed cold only so long. Any soul possessing a shred of humanity could not help but see the reality behind cruel deliverance, no matter how justified it might have at first seemed. Faces blank in death. Bodies twisted in postures no-one unbroken could achieve. Destroyed lives. Vengeance yielded a mirror to every atrocity, where notions of right and wrong blurred and lost all relevance.

Some intense descriptions here. Too good to not mention. I could post the entirety of the book here because it's too good to not mention…

Chapter eighteen

Regret seeped through Korlat's thoughts. And more, I have done Whiskeyfack an injustice. I hope it is not too late to make reparations. It is not well for a Tiste Andü to judge in haste.

My vision was clouded. Clouded? No, more like a storm. Of emotions, born of need and of love. Can you forgive me, Whiskeyjack?

Crying as I type this.

Chapter nineteen

Murillio sighed. 'Rallick Nom.' 'What of him?'
'I wish he were here.'
'Why?'

'So he could kill someone. Anyone. The man's a wonder at simplifying matters.'

Coll grunted a laugh. '"Simplifying matters." Wait until I tell him that one. Hey, Rallick, you're not an assassin, you know, you're just a man who simplifies.'

Bringing back good memories from Darujhistan. I miss that place.

Chapter Twenty

Only Lady Envy remained, to all outward appearances, untouched by the horrendous war they had undertaken; untouched, even, by the driving rain. Her white telaba showed not a single stain. Her unbound black hair hung full and straight down to the small of her back. Her lips were painted a deep, vaguely menacing red. The kohl above her eyes contained the hues of dusk.

'Oh my,' she whispered yet again. 'How shall we follow Tool across… this? And why was he not a T'lan Elephant, or a T'lan Whale, so that he could carry us on his back, in sumptuous howdahs? With running hot water and ingenious plumbing.'

Mok appeared at her side, rain streaming from his enamel mask. 'I will face him yet,' he said.

'Oh really. And when did duelling Tool become more important than your mission to the Seer? How will the First or the Second react to such self-importance?'

'The First is the First and the Second is the Second,' Mok replied laconically.

Lady Envy rolled her eyes. 'How astute an observation.'

I love Lady Envy so much. When I first learned she was Draconus' daughter I thought she would turn out to be a villain. I was dead wrong. Lady Envy embodies all of the arrogant, beautiful, powerful traits of a true God. The way acts like she's your friend and that you are of the same status, only to show her true superiority whenever you irritate her, that was amazing. When She and the crew stepped into one of the Pannion's houses along the way to Coral, Toc thought something along the lines of those Pannion priests feeling a crippling need to bow down to her, and that he knew the feeling. Ahh to have the power Lady Envy only emits with her presence. She was such a character and I hope I haven't seen the last of her.

Chapter Twenty-One

'Was? Is! I am Ormulogun of Li Heng, of course. Endlessly mimicked, never surpassed! Ormulogun seraith Gumble!'

'An impressive title—'

'It's not a title, you fool. Gumble is my critic.' With that he gestured at the toad, then said to it, 'Mark him well, Gumble, so that you note the brilliance of my coming rendition. He stands straight, does he not? Yet his bones may well be iron, their burden that of a hundred thousand foundation stones… or souls, to be more precise. And his features, yes? Look carefully, Gumble, and you will see the fullest measure of this man. And know this, though I capture all he is on the canvas recording the parley outside Capustan, know this… in that image you will see that Itkovian is not yet done.'

I am not yet done, ever the foreboding words.

Chapter Twenty-One

'My heart is yours, Korlat,' Whiskeyjack said to the woman in his arms. 'Nothing else matters to me. Nothing—no-one.'

'Please—do not apologize for what has not even happened yet. Don't talk about it at all.'

'I didn't think I was, lass.' Liar. You were. In your own way. You were apologizing.

She accepted the lie with a wry smile. 'Very well.' Later, Whiskeyjack would think back on his words, and wish that they had been cleaner—devoid of hidden intent.

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This hurts ten times worse on the re-read.

Chapter Twenty-Two

'He'… crippled… crumpled ribs like skeleton hands closing tighter on lungs, ever tighter. Seerdomin. This is me you describe. But who am I?

I'd felt power once. Long ago. There is a wolf.
A wolf. Trapped in this cage—my chest, these bones, yes, he cannot breathe. It hurts so to breathe. The howls are gone. Silenced. The wolf cannot call… call… To whom?
I'd rested my hand, once, on her furred shoulder. Near the neck. We'd not yet awakened, she and I.

So close, travelling in step, yet not awakened… such tragic ignorance. Yet she'd gifted me her mortal visions, her only history—such as she knew it to be, whilst deep in her heart slept…

… slept my beloved.


Here I began to realize Toc was going to be the Mortal Sword of Togg and Fanderay. I did not realize, however, that Toc was actually carrying Togg's soul within him at that instant. It was so obvious *slaps self*

Chapter Twenty-Three

Hetan sniffed. 'Those tumbles weren't cartwheels. They were flops. Very well, I will give you cartwheels in plenty tonight, slippery one!'

'Kruppe prays, oh how he prays, that darkness never falls! That from the depths the flash is but muted in a world vast with light and wonder! Hold back, merciful darkness! We must march on, brave Whiskeyjack! And on! Without pause, without surcease, without delay! Wear our feet to mere nubs, Kruppe pleads! Night, oh night! Beckoning fatal lures to weak self—the mule was there, after all, and look upon poor beast—exhausted by what its eyes could not help but witness! Exhausted unto near death by simple empathy!

'Oh, hear naught of Kruppe and his secret desires for self-destruction at hands of delicious woman! Hear naught! Hear naught until meaning itself disperses…'

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I did not know how I felt about this. Hetan is pregnant? I don't know what my feelings are doing. I don't think Kruppe is human. Everything he did for the Mhybe, being able to transcend dimensions so effortlessly, I don't think Kruppe is human. There's no way.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The three other Bridgeburner wizards weren't much to crow over. Bluepearl was a pigeon-toed Napan who shaved his head and pretended to airs of vast knowledge concerning the Warren of Ruse.

Shank had Seti blood, the importance of which he exaggerated by wearing countless charms and trinkets from the north Quon Tali tribe—even though the Seti themselves had long since ceased to exist except in name, so thoroughly had they been assimilated into Quon culture. Shank, however, wore as part of his uniform a strangely romanticized version of Seti plains garb, all of which had been made by a seamstress in the employ of a theatre company in Unta. Picker was unsure which warren Shank specialized in, since his rituals calling upon power usually took longer than the average battle.

Toes had earned his name by his habit of collecting toes among the enemy's dead—whether he'd been personally responsible for killing them or not. He had concocted some kind of drying powder with which he treated his trophies before sewing them onto his vest—the man smelled like a crypt in dry weather, like a pauper's pit before the lime when it rained. He claimed to be a necromancer, and that some disastrously botched ritual in the past had left him over-sensitive to ghosts—they followed him, he would assert, adding that by cutting off their mortal toes he took from the ghosts all sense of balance so that they fell down so often that he was able to leave them far behind.

Indeed, he looked a haunted man, but, as Blend had pointed out, who wouldn't be haunted with all those dead toes hanging from him?

Ummm HILARITY ENSUES. I was laughing out loud in the middle of the night from reading this passage.

Chapter Twenty-Three

'Why can't I have normal friends?' Stonny demanded. 'Ones without tiger stripes and cat eyes? Ones without a hundred thousand souls riding their backs? Here comes a rider from that other lagging company—maybe he's normal! Hood knows, he's dressed like a farmer and looks inbred enough to manage only simple sentences. A perfect man! Hey! You! No, what are you hesitating for? Come to us, then! Please!'

Picker you flawless being. She and Blend made the ultimate team. I am going to miss them in House of Chains… And Blend, ohh how she's worthy of that name. Who knew she was carrying a rock that made people have trouble focusing on her? Wow, that blew me away. And the sheer selflessness of wanting to give that rock to Quick Ben, I love you Blend. And I love you Quick for letting her keep it. She wouldn't be Blend without it.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Itkovian sighed. 'A perspicacious enquiry, sir, one that leads to certain challenges to previously held assumptions for all concerned.'

'What?'
'Good question, he said,' Stonny drawled.
The Marshal nodded. 'That's why I asked it. I'm known for asking good questions.' 'We see that,' she replied levelly.

LMFAO

Chapter Twenty-Three

'Kallor says we shouldn't even be here. Says the warlord will be furious. So, we're not going close any more. We're thinking of turning round, in fact. We miss Mott Wood—there's no trees here. We like wood. All kinds—we've just reacquired this amazing table… no legs, though, they seemed to have snapped off.'
Kallor. I need this man dead. He was bad news from the very beginning. Erikson didn't even like him enough to give him any redeeming qualities whatsoever. Korlat and Orfantal are after him now, though they can't kill him yet. They're saving him for Rake…

Oh and LOL at the Mott Irregulars stealing the table! Priceless.

Chapter Twenty-Three

She knew now she would not release her kin. Like Rake, she could not abandon them, and like Rake, she could voice no truth when they begged—or demanded—justification.

And so, should that moment come soon, I must needs find strength—the strength to lead—the strength to hide the truth from my kin.

Oh, Whiskeyjack, how will I be able to tell you this? Our desires were… simplistic. Foolishly romantic. The world holds no paradise for you and me, dear lover. Thus, all I can offer is that you join me, that you stay at my side. And I pray to Mother Dark, how I pray, that it will, for you, be enough…

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Chapter Twenty-Four

Whiskeyjack gathered his reins. 'Have you sensed anything at all of your Lord?' She shook her head.
'Does that trouble you? No, you've no need to answer that.'

True, it seems there is little I can disguise from you.

'We'd best get back,' Whiskeyjack continued.

Both swung their mounts round.

Had their conversation continued for another half-dozen heartbeats, Korlat—with her preternatural vision—would have seen the first flight of Black Moranth rise from the mountain's forested slope, forty in all, and, flying low, wing hard and fast for the city.

A half-dozen heartbeats, within which Oponn's coin spun… A single, lazy turn…
From Lady to Lord.

Oh my goodness! When I read this part my mind was actually blown! It's parts like these, when Erikson reaches out with dramatic irony that makes me feel like the man himself is telling me the story, like some imperial historian. Such flawless writing.

All this Whiskeyjak/Korlat stuff is making me cry. A lot.

Chapter Twenty-Four

A dirge. Drums, a lost sound. Horses, driven hard… knowing nothing of the reason, yet on they come. Closer. Mindless, yet filled with the urgency of incomprehensible masters.

But death has already ridden across this hilltop. Knowing nothing of reason.
My love.
He is yours, now, Hood… do you smile?

My love is… yours…

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STOP. How can Erikson know such grief?! How can he write it out to seem so real, like he's actually experienced something like this? It seems the only logical explanation for the level of emotion embodied in his words, and for that I feel terribly sorry for him. It doesn't matter to me that this is a fantasy story, the love these characters shared is real. It's something that exists and is not fantasy at all and this is where Erikson is his most masterful; where he conveys emotions through his characters that are felt by real people. They're the same emotions, just different circumstances.

Chapter Twenty-Five

And now he saw the cost of Rake's gambit. Huge fissures scarred the face of Moon's Spawn, fissures from which water still poured in un-diminished volume.

Rising.

Two-thirds now clear of the churned seas.

Slowly spinning, bringing into view, high on one side, a ledge—

Where stood a lone figure.

How?! He hid the floating mountain underwater?! I was astonished.

Chapter Twenty-Five

I would guard you, Brother—

'The enemy is destroyed, Korlat. What you would guard, staying with me, is the heart within you. You would fend it from pain. From loss. Sister, he deserves more. Go down, now. To grieve is the gift of the living—a gift so many of our kin have long lost. Do not retreat. Descend, Korlat, to the mortal realm.'

Korlat crooked her wings, spiralled earthward. Brother, thank you.

He deserves more

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Chapter Twenty-Five

Mother Dark, with this unveiling, I feel you close. Was it grief that sent you away, sent you so far from your children? When, in our deadly, young way—our appalling insensitivity—we cursed you. Added another layer to your pain.

These steps… you walked them once.

How can you help but smile?

Rain struck her brow, stung the ragged, open gash of her wound. She halted, looked up, to see Moon's Spawn directly overhead… weeping down upon her…

… and upon the field of corpses surrounding her, and, beyond and to the right, upon thousands of kneeling T'lan Imass. The dead, the abandoned, a wash of deepening colours, as if in the rain the scene, so softly saturated, was growing more solid, more real. No longer the faded tableau of a Tiste Andü's regard. Life, drawn short, to sharpen every detail, flush every colour, to make every moment an ache.

And she could hold back no longer. Whiskeyjack. My love.

Moments later, her own tears joined the salt-laden water running down her face.

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I was actually ugly sobbing here. Like, a throaty, noisy sob.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Beneath the rain, as darkness gathered, with every face raised to him, Itkovian closed himself about all that he held within him, closed himself, then fell back.

Back.

Because. I was the Shield Anvil. But now…

I am done.

And beneath the Moon's torrential rain, he died.

HAVE MERCY! How much pain and sorrow can a reader take?!?!!?

I am done. Why would you do this to me, Erikson? Do you hate me?

Chapter Twenty-Five

He watched Quick Ben vanish within the portal. Then Paran turned, one last time, to look upon the chamber. The globe of light was fast dimming.

Whiskeyjack, for all that you have taught me, I thank you. Bridgeburners, I wish I could have done better by you. Especially at the end. At the very least, I could have died with you.

All right, it's probably far too late. But I bless you, one and all.

With that, he turned back, stepped through the portal.

In the silent chamber, the light faded, the globe flickering, then finally vanishing.

But a new glow had come to the chamber. Faint, seeming to dance with the black web on the sarcophagi.

A dance of mystery.

What?! I was totally not expecting that and almost forgot about Paran's ability to 'bless' things. I feel like this is what the purpose of that power was, for him to bless the sarcophagi and create the House of Bridgeburners! Or, at least, that's what boyfriend thinks. Maybe he's just trying to make me happy, who knows, but a dance of mystery? What could this mean?!?!?!!

Chapter Twenty-Five

And now, Picker and the others are watching Mallet. Every moment, someone's hovering close. The healer might try to fall on his knife at any time… given the chance. Ah, Mallet, he kept pushing you away. 'Another time, I've too much on my mind right now. Nothing more than a dull ache. When this is done, we'll get to it, then.' It wasn't your fault, Mallet. Soldiers die.

He watched Quick Ben remove a small pebble from his pouch and lay it on the floor in front of the dais. 'I may want to visit later,' he said, offering Paran a faint, sad smile. 'Me and Kalam…'

Oh, Wizard…

Paran lifted his gaze to the three sarcophagi. He did not know which one held whom. For some reason, that didn't matter much. Whiskeyjack and two marines—they were there for Tattersail, at the last.

Always an even exchange, sorceress.

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Oy, don't mention Kalam. I'm in love with Kalam. i want him back now.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Anaster, still astride his horse. The Mortal Sword's feline eyes thinned on the strange, one-eyed young man. No, he is not as he was. No longer… empty. What has he become, that he now feels like my… rival?

Anddddd suspicions confirmed. Toc is saved from him endless torture to inhabit the empty shell that was Anaster's body to become, alas, the Mortal Sword of Togg. No more giving me nightmares of the Matron.

Chapter Twenty-Five

The Jaghut managed a ghastly smile. 'To free my sister? To what? You fool. You blind, stupid fool. Ask the Bonecaster—how long would we survive in this world? The T'lan Imass will hunt us in earnest now. I free my sister, to what? A short life, filled with flight—I remember, mortal. I remember! Running. Never enough sleep. Mother, carrying us, slipping in the mud—' He shifted his head a fraction, 'And oh how I remember you, Bonecaster! You sent us into that wound—you—'

'I was mistaken,' the woman said. 'I thought—I believed—it was a portal into Omtose Phellack.' 'Liar! You may be flesh and blood, but in your hatred for the Jaghut you are no different from your

undead kin. No, you'd discovered a more horrible fate for us.'

'No. I believed I was saving you.'

More theories confirmed. I play this game well what can I say.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Toc had never met this man before. 'Hello. Is there something you wish?' he asked, impatient to be away.

The man shook his head. 'I only sought to look upon you, to see that you were well.'

He believes me to be Anaster. A friend of old, perhaps—not one of his lieutenants, though—I would have remembered this one. Well, I'll not disappoint him. 'Thank you. I am.'

'This pleases me.' The man smiled, reached up and laid a hand on Toc's leg. 'I will go, now, brother. Know that I hold you in my memory.' Still smiling, he turned and strode away, passing through the midst of curious Grey Swords, heading north towards the forest.

Toc stared after him. Something… something about that walk…

I realized this was Tool later. Erikson just doesn't stop does he?

Chapter Twenty-Five

Hetan strode closer, offering a wink to the dark-haired woman, then settling her eyes once more on the man called Onos Toolan. 'I see more than you imagine,' she said in a low voice.

The young warrior cocked his head. 'You do?'

'Aye, and what I see tells me you've not bedded a woman in a long time.'

The man's eyes widened—oh, such lovely eyes, a lover's eyes—'Indeed,' he said, his smile broadening.

Oh yes, my lover's eyes…

One sob to rule them all, and on the bus heading home of all places.

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My lover's eyes… These words will haunt me forever.

Epilogue

'I've no need for more riches.' Paran smiled. He stepped away from the beggar, then paused and added, 'By the way, you probably shouldn't linger overlong at this particular gate. The House does not welcome strangers.'

The old man seemed to shrink in on himself. His head twisted to one side. 'No,' he muttered from beneath his ragged hood, 'not this House.' Then he softly cackled. 'But I know one that does…'

Shrugging at the beggar's obscure words, Paran turned once more and set off.

Behind him, the beggar broke into a wretched cough.

What?! Who this be now?!?! Stay away from Paran you insidious creature. I know you're working for the Crippled One.

Epilogue

Picker could not pull her eyes from the man. He sat hunched over, on a chair that had yet to find a table, still clutching in his hands the small rag of tattered cloth on which something had been written. The alchemist had done all he could to return life to what had been a mostly destroyed, desiccated body, and Baruk's talents had been stretched to their limits—there was no doubt of that…

Picker began to turn back to her companions—when the man began speaking. 'Very well, permit me, if you will, on this night. To break your hearts once more. This is the story of the Chain of Dogs. Of Coltaine of the Crow Clan, newly come Fist to the 7th Army…'

Why? It's like the tears were never ending in this book. I knew something or another would happen with Duiker when the Traygalle took his body. I feel sort of ambiguous about whether I like that he's alive. I feel bad that he's returned only to find that everyone he loved is dead. That piece of cloth Duiker held in his hand had the name of the nameless marine… the part of Deadhouse that broke my heart into a million pieces. He seems to want only one thing, though, and that's to tell the story of Coltaine and his Chain of Dogs. A good purpose, I think.



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#2 User is offline   Nocturnal 

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Posted 18 May 2012 - 06:06 PM

I completely agree with you, Deadhouse Gates and Memories of Ice are filled with despair throughout the plot and both endings are such tearjerkers.

Nice to see another new reader!

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Chapter Twenty-Five

Beneath the rain, as darkness gathered, with every face raised to him, Itkovian closed himself about all that he held within him, closed himself, then fell back.

Back.

Because. I was the Shield Anvil. But now…

I am done.

And beneath the Moon's torrential rain, he died.


God, this part. I was devastated! I expected Itkovian to have a large part in the ending with the Imass, but until the very end I'd hoped he'd survive. Posted Image

I wonder if Duiker will appear in other books, I expect him in the fifth one, since I don't believe he survived all that torture just so he could tell the story and never appear again.

This post has been edited by Nocturnal: 18 May 2012 - 06:08 PM

"Ambition is not a dirty word. Piss on compromise. Go for the throat."
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#3 User is offline   Daisy 

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Posted 18 May 2012 - 08:55 PM

View PostNocturnal, on 18 May 2012 - 06:06 PM, said:

I completely agree with you, Deadhouse Gates and Memories of Ice are filled with despair throughout the plot and both endings are such tearjerkers.

Nice to see another new reader!

Quote

Chapter Twenty-Five

Beneath the rain, as darkness gathered, with every face raised to him, Itkovian closed himself about all that he held within him, closed himself, then fell back.

Back.

Because. I was the Shield Anvil. But now…

I am done.

And beneath the Moon's torrential rain, he died.


God, this part. I was devastated! I expected Itkovian to have a large part in the ending with the Imass, but until the very end I'd hoped he'd survive. Posted Image

I wonder if Duiker will appear in other books, I expect him in the fifth one, since I don't believe he survived all that torture just so he could tell the story and never appear again.


Me too! I was expecting Itkovian to live, as I mistakingly did with many characters Posted Image. With Duiker, gah I know he'll appear again, but i don't know if he'll have a bigger role to play than just telling the story of the Chain of Dogs; the people he once loved are all dead. What other purpose does he have? :'(
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#4 User is offline   Nocturnal 

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Posted 18 May 2012 - 09:15 PM

View PostDaisy, on 18 May 2012 - 08:55 PM, said:

View PostNocturnal, on 18 May 2012 - 06:06 PM, said:

I completely agree with you, Deadhouse Gates and Memories of Ice are filled with despair throughout the plot and both endings are such tearjerkers.

Nice to see another new reader!

Quote

Chapter Twenty-Five

Beneath the rain, as darkness gathered, with every face raised to him, Itkovian closed himself about all that he held within him, closed himself, then fell back.

Back.

Because. I was the Shield Anvil. But now…

I am done.

And beneath the Moon's torrential rain, he died.


God, this part. I was devastated! I expected Itkovian to have a large part in the ending with the Imass, but until the very end I'd hoped he'd survive. Posted Image

I wonder if Duiker will appear in other books, I expect him in the fifth one, since I don't believe he survived all that torture just so he could tell the story and never appear again.


Me too! I was expecting Itkovian to live, as I mistakingly did with many characters Posted Image. With Duiker, gah I know he'll appear again, but i don't know if he'll have a bigger role to play than just telling the story of the Chain of Dogs; the people he once loved are all dead. What other purpose does he have? :'(


Oh, it's Malazan Book of the Fallen! I just know he'll suck it up and take on some badass role.
... or it could be over for him. Actually, even if he doesn't appear later on, I think it would still be appropriate. Coltaine did defend Duiker until his very last breath because he needed to spread the story of Chain of Dogs. But telling it only in the tavern to the Bridgeburners is hardly enough.

Also, I hope to see more of Anaster/Toc. And I'm going to miss Tool!
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#5 User is offline   worry 

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Posted 18 May 2012 - 10:17 PM

Sorry, folks, but this board highly frowns upon enthusiasm and earnest emotion. You've both earned three demerits in this thread alone.
They came with white hands and left with red hands.
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#6 User is offline   Toraneko 

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Posted 02 June 2012 - 04:24 PM

You summed up my thoughts exactly. Love the use of gifs hahaha (are you from tumblr)
Also worrywort, I do hope you are joking...
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#7 User is offline   Sinisdar Toste 

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Posted 02 June 2012 - 08:08 PM

View PostToraneko, on 02 June 2012 - 04:24 PM, said:

You summed up my thoughts exactly. Love the use of gifs hahaha (are you from tumblr)
Also worrywort, I do hope you are joking...

stick around, it's his serious posts that are out of character.

also, @ Daisy: do a quick reread of the scene where blend offers Quick Ben her stone. i think you'll find that the stone has nothing to do with anything.
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#8 User is offline   Bonecaster 

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Posted 03 June 2012 - 12:40 PM

Yup! Among my very favorite books ever, fantasy or otherwise. The depth of the characters; the history; the battles; the horrors; the courage... Every word and action of Onos T'oolan, Toc, Lady Envy, and the Seguleh is priceless. Itkovian is extraordinary.
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#9 User is offline   Daisy 

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Posted 04 June 2012 - 11:01 PM

View PostSinisdar Toste, on 02 June 2012 - 08:08 PM, said:

also, @ Daisy: do a quick reread of the scene where blend offers Quick Ben her stone. i think you'll find that the stone has nothing to do with anything.


Wait, nothing to do with anything? What do you mean, that Blend is just sly and sneaky of her own accord, without help from the rock?
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#10 User is offline   worry 

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Posted 04 June 2012 - 11:34 PM

Placeboooooooooooooo.
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#11 User is offline   Sinisdar Toste 

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Posted 05 June 2012 - 01:23 AM

iirc quick ben thoughts go something like, "some gral swindler sells her a rock and suddenly she's invisible?"

i admit i L-o-led
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#12 User is offline   Daisy 

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Posted 05 June 2012 - 03:53 AM

View PostSinisdar Toste, on 05 June 2012 - 01:23 AM, said:

iirc quick ben thoughts go something like, "some gral swindler sells her a rock and suddenly she's invisible?"

i admit i L-o-led


Ahh yes that was obvious. It was still very nice that she was offering it though.
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Posted 17 February 2014 - 07:48 PM

View PostBonecaster, on 03 June 2012 - 12:40 PM, said:

Yup! Among my very favorite books ever, fantasy or otherwise. The depth of the characters; the history; the battles; the horrors; the courage... Every word and action of Onos T'oolan, Toc, Lady Envy, and the Seguleh is priceless. Itkovian is extraordinary.


My sentiments exactly. This is the best book I have ever read. It made me question my own existence, among other things, so many times. An eye-opener and a tear-jerker.
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#14 User is offline   TheRetiredBridgeburner 

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Posted 17 February 2014 - 11:11 PM

Summed up my thoughts at the end rather well too. Itkovian I think just smidges in front for the most affecting part. I rather like Paran and QB's sojourn in Moon's Spawn too. Oh and then the epilogue.

Stick knife in and twist...
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#15 User is offline   Kanese S's 

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Posted 19 February 2014 - 11:15 AM

Even reading just excerpts from MoI makes me tear up, it seems.


Agreed that Lady Envy is an interesting and... morally ambiguous... character.
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#16 User is offline   Modest Learner 

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Posted 01 May 2014 - 06:47 PM

I just finished reading MoI.

There's no telling, how much I hate Kallor. It would be wonderful, if Erikson showed Kallor's point of view. His evil actions here, must be because of some reason.

Itkovian's part was the saddest one. I really cried, at his ending. And The Grey Swords, reminded me of Chain of Dogs, only that The Grey Swords, do not have an awesome commander.

Whiskeyjack's part was a sudden shock, a bolt from the blue. I never expected it. But then this is also a mark of Erikson.

I like Brood's reaction to the ending of war. It tells us that war is enjoyable only when fighting is going on; after ending, all it brings is regret and sorrow.

EDIT: I forgot to add about Lady Envy. I have some mixed alignment towards her. But one thing is sure, she is very clever (or sly).

About Onos Toolan, I didn't like its ending (one knows which one), but I think it is justifiable.

But still, I fail to understand, what really happened to Panion??
What happens to Panion Domin after the war??

And there was a reference to the relationship between Jaghut, and K'Chain ones (very difficult name), in which they said that the condition of Jaghut at the time of K'Chain was similar to that of Imass were at the time of Jaghut,
Can anyone throw light on it??

Don't you think, Erikson shows that, as the time is going on , the power in the hands of living ones is decreasing. Like he said, that the Matrons had power far greater than even the Gods, then we have Jaghut, and then T'lan Imass, each era succeded by species which are technically weaker than their previous ones, and finally the humans, the weakest of them all (of course with some exceptions).

This post has been edited by Modest Learner: 01 May 2014 - 06:50 PM

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#17 User is offline   worry 

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Posted 01 May 2014 - 07:23 PM

What's Brukhalian, chopped liver?
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#18 User is offline   Overactive Imagination 

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Posted 03 May 2014 - 12:21 AM

Nice post.. made me laugh several times.

I'm surprised you didn't mention Bauchelain and Broach at all... especially the scene where Quick Ben kicks their asses in the best way possible. I'm pretty sure that was one of those scenes where I had to put the book down and pace around my house for several minutes to cool down

This post has been edited by Overactive Imagination: 03 May 2014 - 01:39 AM

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#19 User is offline   Maximiljen 

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Posted 24 July 2014 - 02:36 PM

Right.
So five minutes ago I finished reading Memories of Ice.
I was this damn close to burst into tears, me, a grown man.
For beyond despair and across the ocean of sorrow, I saw the glimpse of sun-lit shores trimmed with the green of hope.
Friendship is the keyword of this book. And maybe it's just me, maybe I'm going through one of those phases of life when you just
take a seat on the ground, wherever that is, and contemplate on your life and see you don't have many friends left. Not as many as you'd like.
But apart from that, those that still stick with you are everything you need. And those who are just knocking at your door.. will be welcomed.

I can't remember all the quotes that reached somewhere deep inside me, but there's one that encompasses all the feelings I've had while reading MoI.

"The undead creature halted and said to the Destriant, 'For the gift this mortal has given us, we shall each offer one in turn.
Together, they shall become his barrow, and it shall be unassailable. If you refuse us this, we will defy you."


That's about it.
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#20 User is offline   ultor 

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Posted 24 July 2014 - 03:33 PM

Spoiler


Watch the spoilers please ....Bubba

This post has been edited by Abyss: 26 July 2014 - 11:03 PM
Reason for edit: Later book spoiler removed

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