Malazan Empire: ArchieVist - Viewing Profile - Malazan Empire

A goddess awakens to a new world, only to find that some things never change.

Amidst the ashes of a failed rebellion in Seven Cities, new embers are flaring to life.

There are furrowed brows at the beleaguered Malazan Legion headquarters in G'danisban for it would appear that yet another bloody clash with the revived cult of the Apocalyptic is coming to a head.

Seeking to crush the uprising before it ignites the entire subcontinent, Fist Arenfall has only a few dozen squads of marines at his disposal, and many of those are already dispersed - endeavouring to stamp out multiple brush-fires of dissent. But his soldiers are exhausted, worn down by the grind of a simmering insurrection and the last thing Arenfall needs is the arrival of the new Adjunct, fresh from the capital and the Emperor's side.

The man's mission may be to lend support to Arenfall's efforts . . . or stick a knife in his back. 'Twas ever thus', of course. That a popular commander should inevitably be seen as a threat to the Emperor - such is the fatal nature of imperial Malazan politics.

And what of the gods? Well, as recent history has proved, their solution to any mortal mess is to make it even messier. In other words, it's just another tumultuous day in the chequered history of the Malazan Empire.

Oh wow. I'm going to have to pace myself so I don't kill my budget. There's a lot more here than I thought and I thought there was a lot already.

The good news is that I've already got the first two BPRD omnis, so I can hold jump over now and hope there's a holiday sale to pick up some more later in the month.

"I feel magnanimous,' Knuckles said, 'and offer to still those grains…for a time. So that we may be true hosts to our new guest.

'The giant woman looked up, a sudden cunning in her expression. 'Excellent idea, Knuckles. Make it so!'

A gesture, and the wavering light of the lantern ceased its waver. All was still in a way Bruthen Trana could not define – after all, nothing had changed. And yet his soul knew, somehow, that the grains Knuckles had spoken of were time, its passage, its unending journey. He had just, with a single gesture of one hand, stopped time."