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Best scenes out of all WoT?

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Whenever I think back to when I was reading, one of the scenes that sticks out most in my mind is when Semirhage had Rand in the male a'dam. That scene was so intense to me I loved it. Like I couldn't read fast enough.

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Magicians, witches and lovebirds.  Fwaggh!  Supernatural beings who shape events and move worlds.  Where is the honor, the sacrifice and the emotional power in that?  Who can care?


The March of the Men of Manetheren.  Talmanes, who would charge into Dumai's Wells, but did not think he would come back out.  The women of Emond's Field, on half rations.  Mat going into the Stone, where even Birgitte would not go for any but Gaidal.  Aldragoran, Managan and Gorenellin, who would not have Al'Lan Mandragoran ride to Tarwin's Gap alone.  Ingtar sheathing the sword.  Keemlin Rai.  Especially Keemlin Rai.  


Those are the people who matter.

Edited by randsc

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For me, Egwene fighting the Seanchan with her gaggle of novices and Adelorna really stands out among the most memorable / epic scenes. That was definitely a battle that RJ did properly. Dumai's Wells too, and I suppose the cleansing of saidin -- I'm a big Cadsuane fan in general though [don't flame me for that] so most of her battle scenes stick out in my mind.

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It's hard for me to pick just one favorite, but here are a few:


Dumais Wells - Asha'man, kill!

Rand atop Dragonmount, when he got his head outta his butt and became the Lord of the Morning.

Egwene fighting the Seanchan in the Tower with her novices.

Egwene fighting the Last Battle when she truly became the Flame of Tar Valon.

Perrin forging his war hammer, the first Power wrought weapon of the Age.

Lan sheathing the sword.


I could go on....

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wow, there are so many!

-When rand killed Fain's trollocs on TGH and wolves called hem the Shadowkiller

-The destitucion of siuan like Amirlym (i was really shocking on that moment, despite the Min's warnings)

-The Asha'man attacking to the Sun Palace

-Cadsuane's first appearence

-Rand using Callandor whit the Seanchan

-Rand attacking his father Tam

-Rand's epifany on the Dragonmount

-Mat loosing the eye

-When Demandred finally appears like the "dragonkiller" of the sharanies

-Egwene vs M'hael

-Gawyn/Galad defeats vs Demandred

-Lan vs Demandred


and so many others...

By the way, i'm new :)

Edited by Lothlan

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The Battle for Emonds Field.  That was the most emotional, heart breaking, magical moment for me.  When Perrin and Faile get hitched.  The betrayal of the Whitecloaks at the end of the battle.  Seeing the Wisdom and her husband hanging on to each other like they would never let go when it was over.  The women calmly stepping up to fill gaps in the line during the final charge of the Trollocs.  Perrin finding out he had a cousin/family member that wasn't killed by Fain.  Members of the other villages showing up in the nick of time after being rallied by Faile. 


Almost brings me to tears remembering the whole scene.  Mr. Jordan was at his very best for the entire battle. 

Edited by bigdoug1971

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The scenes I liked the most I think would be the various speeches from Light-sided characters; and probably also when advice is spoken from one character to another.

after those; I think the battles/fights/etc against the Shadow.

Edited by mb

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I found another, just today, that I must add to my previous list.


I kinda got frustrated with Perrin over the years. I thought the Faile / Shaido story was too long, and that Perrin was made into a bit of a cliché in the process. Having finished Memory of Light (again) just today however, one line stuck with me that brought his whole character into focus at last.


He looked up toward Rand. "Go," Perrin whispered. "Do what you have to do. As always, I will watch your back."


Not at all unlike Samwise Gamgee in Lord of the Rings. Rand's character needed a grounded, more normal True Friend who was just going to be there no matter what and Perrin was that guy. I loved him at the end.

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Rand and Egwene at the end of Eye of the World.  I had tears in my eyes and that was when I knew I was hooked.  I had no idea I'd be reading the series for 20+ years of my life, but that was an incredible scene for me.  In many ways, I see that as a pivotal moment where they both broke away from the lives they thought they would live back in Emond's field and truly set forth on their fated paths.  In many ways, it was very sad, especially the fear Rand must have felt and the pain/sadness Egwene must have felt for him.  Rand was so isolated, so alone at that time.  The Dragon Reborn, a sheepherder who could channel.  Just such an incredibly powerful scene imo.  Jordan at his finest.


The other one that brings tears is when Nyn walks into the tavern and asks if the Golden Crane flies alone.  Still brings goosebumps just thinking about it.  Lan is just another tragically fated character and Nyn's love for him just shines like a beacon there and she puts in motion the awesomeness of Malkier marching toward Tarmon Gaidon with the borderlands flocking to his banner.  Lan is my fav character and I love his arc with Nyn and that was a powerful height of their arc together for me.  Just awesome stuff. 

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Lan killing Dem, seemed a fitting way for Lan to go out.  His "you mistake me, I didn't come here to win but to kill you" comment rocked.  So I was a bit bummed that it was somewhat ruined by either the pattern or Rand some how bringing him back.

Edited by Sabio

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Lan killing Dem, seemed a fitting way for Lan to go out.  His you mistake me, I didn't come here to win but to kill you comment rocked.  So I was a bit bummed it was somewhat ruined by either the pattern or Rand some how bringing him back.




However, I think Lan was always meant to survive. The insane focus on him dying against the Shadow was to me a clear indication that he would do the exact opposite. It was a theme I found RJ liked, the obvious/inevitable never happened, or was different from what you expect. 


So if it was RJ that dicated the whole thing, it was meant to be. If it was Brandon, I liked the way he stayed true to Lan's character. I think this is the sort of thing that Lan would have done and said and was, as you said, fitting. However, he then would have had the restriction of Lan needing to be alive (if I am correct, which I might not be, in thinking that was RJ's will, for lan to survive the LB). 


Either way, I believe it was true to the character and story. (It's also interesting to note that the two times we see people 'Sheathing the Sword' they both end up surviving. I think that technique needs to be perfected :tongue:

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Book 6 easily. Introduction of Asahman on the field tearing apart Ran's enemies, the creation of the Black Tower becauase at the point, I just aobut had it with the frigging White Tower. Then of course Logan screwing a brown Aes Sedai sister senseless or was it a White sister, but yeah, litterally was screwed into submission and forcibly bond with the Aes Sedais. How you like them apples?

Edited by Poorboy78

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As others have mentioned, there are a few that would be impossible to choose from.


Veins of Gold - Although we could see it coming, Rands epiphany was still great to see

The battle between the Heroes and the Seanchan at Falme, while Rand and Ishamael fought in the sky

Rand and Taim meeting for the first time

The Cleansing



If I HAVE to pick one, it's The Shadow Rising: Chapter 25 - The Road to the Spear


Seeing how the Aiel developed as a people, scenes from the Age of Legends, and some of Jordans best writing make it a fantastic piece of writing.

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Logan screwing a brown Aes Sedai sister senseless or was it a White sister, but yeah, litterally was screwed into submission and forcibly bond with the Aes Sedai

Ashamen bonding Aes Sedia was in book 8.  Logan bonded 2; a Brown and a Red.

"forcibly bond"? each Ashaman seemed to choose the one he bonded, and the choice seemed to not be forced.

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Yea, the Ashamen bonding Elaida's Aes Sedai was my favorite funny moment in the series.





Abruptly, a tall man in a black coat, dark hair falling to his shoulders, spurred his horse out of the forest into the road ahead of her, spraying snow. “There’s no point struggling,” he announced firmly, raising a gloved hand. “Surrender peacefully, and no one will be hurt.”


It was neither his appearance nor his words that made Toveine rein up short, letting the other sisters gather beside her. “Take him,” she said calmly. “You had better link. He has me shielded.” It seemed one of these Asha’man had come to her. How convenient of him.


Abruptly she realized that nothing was happening and took her eyes from the fellow to frown at Jenare. The woman’s pale, square face seemed absolutely bloodless. “Toveine,” she said unsteadily, “I also am shielded.”


“I am shielded, too,” Lemai breathed in disbelief, and the others chimed in, increasingly frantic. All shielded.


More men in black coats appeared from among the trees, their horses stepping slowly, all around. Toveine stopped counting at fifteen. The Guards muttered angrily, waiting on a sister’s command. They knew nothing yet except that a band of rogues had waylaided them. Toveine clicked her tongue in irritation. These men could not all channel, of course, but apparently every Asha’man who could do so had come against her. She did not panic. Unlike some of the sisters with her, these were not the first men who channeled that she had confronted. The tall man began riding toward her, smiling, apparently thinking they had obeyed his ridiculous order.


“At my command,” she said quietly, “we will break in every direction. As soon as you are far enough away that the man loses the shield,” men always thought they had to be able to see to hold their weaves, which meant that they did have to, “turn back and help the Guards. Ready yourselves.” She raised her voice to a shout. “Guardsmen, fight them!”


Roaring, the Guardsmen surged forward, waving their swords and no doubt thinking to surround and protect the sisters. Pulling her mare around to the right, Toveine dug in her heels and crouched low over Sparrow’s neck, dodging between startled Guardsmen, then between two very young men in black coats who gaped at her in astonishment. Then she was into the trees, urging more speed, snow spraying wildly, careless of whether the mare broke a leg. She liked the animal, but more than a horse would die today. Behind her, shouts. And one voice, roaring through all the cacophony. The tall man’s voice.


“Take them alive, by order of the Dragon Reborn! Harm an Aes Sedai, and you’ll answer to me!”


By order of the Dragon Reborn. For the first time, Toveine felt fear, an icicle worming into her middle. The Dragon Reborn. She thrashed Sparrow’s neck with the reins. The shield was still on her! Surely there were enough trees between them already to block the cursed men’s sight of her! Oh, Light, the Dragon Reborn!


She grunted as something struck her across the middle, a branch where there was no branch, snatching her out of the saddle. She hung there watching Sparrow plow off at as much of a gallop as the snow allowed. She hung there. In the middle of the air, arms trapped at her sides, feet dangling a pace or more above the ground. She swallowed. Hard. It had to be the male part of the Power holding her up. She had never been touched by saidin before. She could feel the thick band of nothing snug around her middle. She thought she could feel the Dark One’s taint. She quivered, fighting down screams.


The tall man reined his horse to a halt in front of her, and she floated down to sit sideways in front of his saddle. He did not seem particularly interested in the Aes Sedai he had captured, though. “Hardlin!” he shouted. “Norley! Kajima! One of you bloody young louts come here now!”


He was very tall, with shoulders an axe-handle wide. That was how Mistress Doweel would have put it. Just short of his middle years, handsome in a brooding, rugged fashion. Not at all like the pretty boys Toveine liked, eager and grateful and so easily controlled. A silver sword decorated the tall collar of his black wool coat on one side, with a peculiar creature in gold and red enamel on the other. He was a man who could channel. And he had her shielded and a prisoner.


The shriek that burst from her throat startled even her. She would have held it back if she could, but another leaped out behind it, higher still, and another even higher, another and another. Kicking wildly, she flung herself from side to side. Useless against the Power. She knew that, but only in a tiny corner of her mind. The rest of her howled at the top of her lungs, howled wordless pleas for rescue from the Shadow. Screaming, she struggled like a mad beast.


Dimly she was aware of his horse plunging and dancing as her heels drummed its shoulder. Dimly she heard the man talking. “Easy, you lump-eared sack of coal! Calm down, sister. I’m not going to—Easy, you spavined mule! Light! My apologies, sister, but this is how we learn to do it.” And then he kissed her.


She had only a heartbeat to realize his lips were touching hers, then sight vanished, and warmth flooded through her. More than warmth. She was melted honey inside, bubbling honey, rushing toward the boil. She was a harpstring, vibrating faster and faster, vibrating to invisibility and faster still. She was a thin crystal vase, quivering on the brink of shattering. The harpstring broke; the vase shattered.




At first, she did not realize that sound had come from her gaping mouth. For a moment, she could not think coherently. Panting, she stared up at the male face above her, wondering who it belonged to. Yes. The tall man. The man who could—


“I could have done without the extra bit,” he sighed, patting the horse’s neck; the animal snorted, but it no longer leaped about, “yet I suppose it is necessary. You’re hardly a wife. Be calm. Don’t try to escape, don’t attack anyone in a black coat, and don’t touch the Source unless I give you permission. Now, what’s your name?”


Unless he gave permission? The effrontery of the man! “Toveine Gazal,” she said, and blinked. Now, why had she answered him?


“There you are,” another black-coated man said, splashing his horse through the snow to them. This one would be much more to her liking—if he could not actually channel, at least. She doubted this pink-cheeked lad shaved more than twice in the week. “Light, Logain!” the pretty boy exclaimed. “Did you take a second one? The M’Hael won’t like that! I don’t think he likes us taking any! Maybe it won’t matter, though, you two being so close and all.”


“Close, Vinchova?” Logain said wryly. “If the M’Hael had his way, I’d be hoeing turnips with the new boys. Or buried under the field,” he added in a mutter she did not think he meant to be heard.


However much he heard, the pretty boy laughed with incredulous disbelief. Toveine barely heard him. She was gazing up at the man looming over her. Logain. The false Dragon. But he was dead! Stilled and dead! And holding her before his saddle with a casual hand. Why was she not screaming, or striking at him? Even her belt knife would do, this near. Yet she had no desire at all to reach for the ivory haft. She could, she realized. That band around her middle was gone. She could at least slip down off the horse and try to—She had no desire to do that, either.


“What did you do to me?” she demanded. Calmly. At least she had managed to hold on to that!


Turning his horse to ride back to the road, Logain told her what he had done, and she put her head against that wide chest, not caring at all how big he was, and wept. She was going to make Elaida pay for this, she vowed. If Logain ever let her, she would. That last was an especially bitter thought.






For me from tEotW:


Hoppers death scene-


Out of the night Hopper came, and Perrin was one with the wolf. Hopper, the cub who had watched the eagles soar, and wanted so badly to fly through the sky as the eagles did. The cub who hopped and jumped and leaped until he could leap higher than any other wolf, and who never lost the cub’s yearning to soar through the sky. Out of the night Hopper came and left the ground in a leap, soaring like the eagles. The Whitecloaks had only a moment to begin cursing before Hopper’s jaws closed on the throat of the man with his lance leveled at Perrin. The big wolf’s momentum carried them both off the other side of the horse. Perrin felt the throat crushing, tasted the blood.


Hopper landed lightly, already apart from the man he had killed. Blood matted his fur, his own blood and that of others. A gash down his face crossed the empty socket where his left eye had been. His good eye met Perrin’s two for just an instant. Run, brother! He whirled to leap again, to soar one last time, and a lance pinned him to the earth. A second length of steel thrust through his ribs, driving into the ground under him. Kicking, he snapped at the shafts that held him. To soar.


Pain filled Perrin, and he screamed, a wordless scream that had something of a wolf’s cry in it. Without thinking he leaped forward, still screaming. All thought was gone. The horsemen had bunched too much to be able to use their lances, and the axe was a feather in his hands, one huge wolf’s tooth of steel. Something crashed into his head, and as he fell, he did not know if it was Hopper or himself who died.

“ . . . soar like the eagles.”







And one of the many, many from tSR:


Tai'shar Manetheren!



He wrenched the blade free in time to see Daise Congar’s pitchfork tines take a goat-snouted Trolloc in the throat. It seized the long shaft with one hand, stabbing a barbed spear at her with the other, but Marin al’Vere calmly hamstrung it with one blow of her cleaver; the leg gave way, and she just as coolly severed the Trolloc’s spine at the base of its neck. Another Trolloc lifted Bode Cauthon into the air by her braid; mouth wide in a terrified scream, she sank her wood-axe into its mailed shoulder just as her sister, Eldrin, thrust her boar spear through its chest and gray-braided Neysa Ayellin drove a thick butchering knife in as well.


All up and down the line, as far as Perrin could see, the women were there. Their numbers were the only reason the line still held, almost driven back against the houses. Women among the men, shoulder to shoulder; some no more than girls, but then, some of those “men” had never shaved yet. Some never would. Where were the Whitecloaks? The children! If the women were here, there was no one to get the children out. Where are the bloody Whitecloaks? If they came now, at least they might buy another few minutes. A few minutes to get the children away.


Man! These two scenes STILL make me eyes water just thinking about them.........they always will.



Brilliant writing by Mr Jordan.

Edited by Cosmic Champion

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Lots of good ones.



Moiraine's story of Manetheren.

The flight TO Shadar Logoth.

The Tinker telling Elyas about the Aiel.



Lan coaching up Rand for his Amyrlin meeting and his reactions during it.



Mat taking on Galad & Gawyn with a staff

The Aeil rescueing the Girls from the bandit camp and their fearlessness of going against a fade.



Getting kicked out of finland (both times)

All the TR stuff

Battle with Moggy in Tanchico



The battle at Cairhien

The snow hut in Seanchan

Moiriane vs Lanfear



Dumai's wells

Egwene's spanking



The swordfight between Rand and Raitan (sp?).

Cup of Sleep



Cadsuane using the well in Far Madding



Rands meeting with the Hall

Rand at the Stone with the nobles and his dad

2nd meeting with Hurin

Rand chanelling at Maradon



Belas last ride

Birgitte getting killed

Birgitte coming back.

Lan vs Dem.

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