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About Taymist

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    I love playing Runescape, reading (mainly science fantasy/sci fi), and writing (hence the RP stuffs). I'm also a wee bitty obsessed with all things fibre related as I knit, spin, crochet, felt and sew. Distraction is likely when encountering sheepies, bunnies and alpaca.

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  1. I know, right? I hide it well. Yes, agreed. Excellent. Great to get a second favourable vote for reading them. And again, eccentric vocabulary sounds right up my street. I'm now prepared for the big bad. I don't mind triggers if they're a constructive part of the plot/char development. If it's gratuitous...colour me far less impressed. That's what the Malazan books did to me. I didn't just tear up, I was a wreck. Absolutely heartbroken and sobbed my eyes out. My other half thought I'd lost the plot entirely crying over a book but to me, that's the sign of effective, impactful writing and of a book series I'll never forget. I like The Great Gatsby! lol There's really no reason to be any kind of snob about any kind of literature. You can subjectively hold opinions about what you prefer and what you rate in terms of genre, writing style, point of view etc. without dismissing everything you don't consider worthwhile as total rubbish. Bottom line, particularly these days, I'm a firm believer that any kind of reading is better than none. Very much. This sort of chat is why I joined DM in the first place. We may have varying tastes, but we do tend to be like minded about our general love of fantasy and sci-fi.
  2. I started reading the first book. Heard good things about Joe Abercrombie. For some reason I got sidetracked though, my attention hadn't been hooked yet and as a result, I haven't gone back to it. I really must. Thanks for the reminder.
  3. Agreed, I think one needs the balance between the two types even if just to give our brains and emotions some respite. My go to when I feel that way is the trashiest chick lit you can think of lol and I don't feel remotely guilty about it. Myst calls me a literary snob because a) I enjoy Shakespeare which she struggles with because of the language and b) I don't rate certain authors as particularly skilled despite enjoying their books. (Rowling and Sanderson fall into that category for me, entertaining but not one of the greats). I don't however, stick my nose up at any particular genre. I was lucky that sci-fi and fantasy were both on my Uni reading list and heavily discussed, yet I definitely did come up against that dismissive attitude towards other forms of popular fiction such as historical fiction in particular. Can't recall to be absolutely honest. That's Eddings for me. I could read them until the cows come home when I want to be amused and enthralled without thinking. Well now you've really interested me. Words are absolutely my jam. I've had people tell me all my life to stop using big words but a lot of it's down to the books I grew up reading where the language is simply less commonly used nowadays. I think it's why I find some fantasy writers overly simplistic in their style, it's what I call writing for the lowest common denominator, the worst type of "popular" fiction. 100% agreed. Not a fan of that at all. Faran! ❤️ Oh my gosh. Iconic. Yeah, unfinished would irritate me. Don't even get me started on ASoIaF. I'm aware of the author and the series, but never tried them. Wordy doesn't bother me, it didn't with Jordan. I like good descriptive passages. Readers these days are, (often not always), lazy and impatient. I've read the Farseer books, the Liveship Traders, The Tawny Man series and also her books written as Megan Lindholm. Fun fact, my Blademaster sword at the Band (not the RP) is called Windsinger after "The Windsinger Quartet" books she wrote. They're all sitting on the shelf behind me. Love her as a writer. One of the very few exceptions I've made for 1st person pov.
  4. Welcome @Kilivia . If you need any assistance, ask away.
  5. Sorry to hear life's getting in the way for you, Kaylee. Sucks when that happens. The people who volunteer are the life blood of DM, so I'm sure the Yellows will miss you loads. And yeayyyyy Souvra Head again *snugglebites the Nyn* Good job on snaffling her back into position, Mumsy
  6. Ah the joys of dissertations. That takes me back to mine about, ohhh 26 years ago or so lol. Footnotes were the bane of my existence. Your topic sounds fascinating though. Awesome feeling when you know everything's progressing in the right direction.
  7. Totes. Wonderful character. Not sure how I managed to miss him off my Top 20 but also not sure who I'd replace! Sparhawk really should have been on there too looking at Elessar's list. The "what if" would have been very cool to explore, yes, it was definitely strongly suggested and plausible.
  8. We do the same in the UK. My academic background is in Literature/Language so there's always an element of analytical thought in my approach to reading choices. Whilst I enjoy some lighthearted escapism sometimes, I inevitably come back to needing more substantial fare. If books don't make me think, I get bored. And if it makes me a literary snob, as my dear Souvra is so fond of telling me, then I'm ok with that. I only ever read 2 of the Shannara books. Someone recommended them but I think I came to them when I was too old to enjoy them without criticism. Very childish and a bit too derivative for me. Dragonlance bypassed me completely although I was aware of them. I read the Drizzt books in the Forgotten Realms D&D series instead. Funnily enough, I had a similar issue. It took me a while to get into the series, it has a very slow start, but I loved the first 4 books as a complete story arc. After that I never went any further as the story line and most of the characters changed, despite being in the same world, and that annoyed me. Possibly the drawback of having different writers. Hence why it's not on my Top 20 list. I don't like having my immersion interrupted quite that completely. Challenge me, yes, but don't spoil the experience. Yes, I felt the same about the Mistborn books. I persevered through the first trilogy and enjoyed them well enough but then for some reason never had the impetus to read the follow ups. I haven't tried the Stormlight set but did read, and liked, Warbreaker. Brandon's style isn't really for me though. He did very well finishing up WoT but I put that down to the copious amount of material RJ left. I don't personally feel that Sanderson is a good enough writer to have done that entirely by himself, judging by his own work. Again, the reason nothing of his makes my top 20. As you say, a very subjective thing, this reading! Fascinating how we can all react so differently to the same books.
  9. Interesting. That makes it sound more worth my time than any of the actual write ups did. It's rare, I find, that an author has that ability to challenge. Le Guin and Gemmell do it, Gaiman's a master at it (thinking American Gods), and the Malazan Empire writers do to a point, each in their own distinctive styles. I'll add that one to my list to get hold of now, thank you.
  10. You know, in spite of being aware of this series for decades, it's one I've never picked up. Worth a read even now would you say?
  11. Ely froze, her mind refusing to compute the looming, nightmare creatures that materialised before her. Through the shock, her body responded automatically, pivoting neatly to one side to avoid a stabbing spear. The momentum of its thrust brought an eagle-headed monster closer and Ely took full advantage, plunging one dagger into its armpit even as the other buried itself in the feather covered throat. Both blades slid easily out of their temporary homes and she watched the form crumple. A quick glance showed the whole area was in an uproar; a confusion of shouts, screams, clashing weapons, and intermittent flashes of Power. Ely vaguely recalled hearing at the Citadel that the men's channeling had limitations. Given all the work they'd done this day, she had to assume they were holding themselves in abeyance until they were sure they could make a significant impact. If they became over tired, their Power would be useless. It was strategically sound thinking and occasional assistance was better than nothing. A couple of Wolfbrothers were providing the channelers with additional cover. For a heartbeat, Ely was torn. She wasn't happy about leaving Arinth with nobody to watch his back. That was the reason she gave herself for her reluctance anyway. But he was an adult, a trained soldier, capable of taking care of himself and surrounded with not only Band folk but also several quite lethal asha'man. Tris wasn't any of those things. Ely wasn't sure precisely why she'd assumed any responsibility for that reprobate, but she had. Maybe Tris wasn't alone. Maybe the child was with some of the 'kin. It didn't matter. Ely couldn't trust in strangers. She had to be certain no harm came to the youngster because she was the one who'd sent Tris away from the protection of the Band and, although it had been a perfectly sensible action at the time, it didn't change the result now. Tris was one of their own and it was Ely's job to ensure she got home safely. Besides, despite all the damage she could do with her daggers, she wouldn't be able to sustain the speed and style of fighting they required against these kinds of opponents. Nor was taking their weapons an option. She didn't have the strength to wield such weight. No, she needed her own sword and it was in the Lodge. Choice made and logic satisfied, Ely set her jaw and was off, weaving her way with grim determination across the intervening ground. It was no easy feat to navigate the heaving press of bodies but there was no time to skirt the fighting. She simply made a beeline for the steps. She was working on the premise that it was harder to hit a moving target, falling into a rhythm of ducking, deflecting and dodging blows as her nostrils clogged up with the smells of sweat, blood and something rancid that clung to these foreign beasts. It seemed as though hours passed while she forged herself a path, although in reality it was mere minutes before she broke free and ran up the long steps into the Lodge. "Tris?" her voice hung harshly in the empty silence of the main room. No response. Ely moved quickly to the weapon stand, retrieving her own sword and purloining a spare as she called again. "Tris! Where in the Light are you?! Answer me!" Still nothing. The entire place had been vacated. She was wasting her time hanging about there. Hopeful that the Sages had simply taken the child with them, Ely ran back out to the top of the steps. Where was Arinth? Despite the extra height the steps provided, she couldn't see him. Fierce eyes scanned the scene, flicking from one section of the fighting to another. Searching. She spotted the Sergeant embroiled in a stand-off with a bear faced behemoth. A second later he took an axe to the temple that threw him several yards and slammed him against the Lodge wall. He landed in an unmoving heap, a single trickle of blood seeping out of his ear. Lifeless. She couldn't get to him, there were too many enemies between them and, even if she could, it would have been futile. It was too late for the man. Anger burned through Ely's blood at the sight, filling her with a violent need for retribution. She launched herself off the steps and back into the thick of the action... accompanied by the not-so-distant sound of wolves howling. Time ceased to mean anything. She existed solely from one encounter to the next. She had come to the aid of a scout who was being sorely pressed, slicing through his protagonist's spine, and then fought briefly back to back with an unfamiliar infantryman until they dispatched their respective foes. Looking for her next target, she found herself accosted by a meaty fist swinging inexorably towards her and she twisted away. Not fast enough. The thought registered faintly as pain blossomed across her shoulders, doubling her over and making her stagger a few steps. She refocused as best she could, balancing her weight, and launching a flurry of hacking feints and rapid strikes at the abomination that had dared touch her. It wasn't pretty. Sword play wasn't ever pretty in the middle of battle. It was vicious, and messy, and savage. Satisfying, Ely called it. These things were hurting her people. There was no denying that she was tiring though. Heaping emotional upheaval, a forced run and physical labour on top of her already tender state from the previous night hadn't left her in a battle ready condition. Ely could feel the muscles in her arms protesting and the trauma to her shoulders had bruised the bone. She swallowed the pain as best she could, circling the owner of the damage inducing fist. It lunged at her again, and in its haste slipped on the blood slick grass, landing on its face. Never one to miss an opportunity, Ely slammed her sword down across the back of its neck, decapitating it. She straightened slowly, disengaging the blade from bone and sinew, noting the notches that would need to be worked out of it later, and wiped the metal clean on the creature's apparel. The adrenaline was draining out of her system at an alarming rate and she could feel every cut, every bruise. She had to move. Light, the blasted man better not be hurt. He disturbed her peace as nobody else ever had and the Creator help her but she wanted him in one piece until she figured out why! Coming back to awareness of her surroundings, Ely saw that there were only a few pockets of fighting left. Reinforcements had arrived at last and, though hard fought, the day was all but won. Oddly she hadn't progressed far from the Lodge steps, all the back and forth of combat had disoriented her. She spun sharply on her heel, intent on locating Arinth, only to hear his voice calling her name. Pleasure washed over her at the sound, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. She swiped the back of one hand across her eyes to clear the miasma of dust and blood, trying to identify where the call had come from. Her frame was taut with the tension of waiting for him to come into her line of sight. Maybe it had been a figment of her imagination after all conjured up by want rather than reality. She could hear her heartbeat thrumming ever more loudly through her over sensitive skull. "Ely!" This time the shout came from her left. A higher pitched voice. "Tris?" Ely turned slightly to see Tris wriggling out from behind a loose plank, revealing a small crawl space underneath the far end of the Lodge. Clever kid. A weight that she hadn't even been aware of lifted at the knowledge that Tris too was alive and safe but no sooner had she registered that than Tris screamed her name a second time. Ely's brows knit together and she took a quick step in Tris' direction. It was a step which, she would acknowledge later, probably saved her life. A sharp, agonizing pain scored its way across her lower back and hip as an unseen blade bit deeply into flesh leaving nothing but fire in its wake. She tried to twist round, to bring her own sword up to block any further attack, but her body refused to co-operate. She felt her knees hit the mercifully soft ground before the fog descended and she knew nothing more.
  12. I haven't heard from Cass in a few weeks, apart from on Facebook. She works emergency services so may be inundated with rl stuff. Is it something I can help move along, Lii?
  13. I think Robbie Coltrane's too old to carry off Loial now. But he could probably do a wicked Elder Haman.
  14. And that's why she's the Amyrlin Seat. She finds all the solutions to these little problems.
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