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Mashiara Sedai

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Everything posted by Mashiara Sedai

  1. Mashiara Sedai

    Author Q&A with Saladin Ahmed

    Dragonmount is pleased to host fantasy author Saladin Ahmed for a week-long author Q&A session! Saladin Ahmed's debut novel, Throne of the Crescent Moon, released in February of this year, is gaining attention in the fantasy genre, particularly because of Mr. Ahmed's unique choice of setting. Last year, Saladin Ahmed was a guest podcaster on Brandon Sanderson's "Writing Excuses," Season 5 Episode 36. He has also been nominated for both the Nebula and Campbell awards. Saladin Ahmed will visit Dragonmount July 22nd - 28th to answer questions from fans. Everyone is welcome to join in. The discussion will take place on the General Discussion board. I hope you will all come over and take part in this exciting event! ~Mashiara
  2. Mashiara Sedai

    Compositions

    Wow! I like that one a lot too! Is it Wheel of Time inspired with the name "Weaves"? Keep 'em coming! ~Mashiara
  3. Mashiara Sedai

    Author Q&A with Saladin Ahmed

    I just finished it last month and it was very enjoyable! But he has a few short stories available to read on his website, including one that was published in Orson Scott Card's Intergalactic Medicine Show. ~Mashiara
  4. Mashiara Sedai

    Compositions

    These are both wonderful! I don't know if it was what you were going for, but they have the sound of a video game soundtrack. I LOVE listening to video game soundtracks! I typically like to listen to instrumental music while I type, and this was perfect background music as I looked around Dragonmount. :) I particularly liked how you increased the tempo then slowed it back down. (Reminds me of time running out on Mario.) Great job. Post some more! ~Mashiara
  5. Mashiara Sedai

    ACW Guild Siggy Contest on the Siggy Board

    I try to get one done. I just went through the tutorial last night, so I only have the basic skills, but I'll try. Should be fun! ~Mashiara
  6. I agree. Kukao's list was perfect! This is a hilarious topic either way. I love that pic of the dog in armor. Too cute! ~Mashiara
  7. Mashiara Sedai

    July Challenge: Under 100

    I just wrote this. It's a look at the theme in two ways. 99 words. He hit the 99th opponent square in the jaw, shattering the bone and teeth. The thrill of victory shot through him, raising his already high adrenaline. One more to go, he thought, wiping his damp forehead. He launched himself at the challenger as soon as the bell rang. Dodge, jab, hook. Duck, hook, upper cut. I've got him, now. One more blow and it's finished. Out of nowhere, the opponent sent two jabs straight to his face; he fell to the ground. "GAME OVER" displayed on the screen. I almost had it. I guess I'll always be under 100.
  8. Mashiara Sedai

    Fan Art Friday: Storytelling Through Art (Part 2)

    The one of Mat and Rand is adorable! I love Mat's cheeky grin as he flips the coin. Very good!
  9. Returning White Sister, after a few years LOA... Here's my info. Handle: Mashiara Sedai Path: Aes Sedai Rank: Aes Sedai Affiliation: White Ajah
  10. Mashiara Sedai

    Congrats to My Two New Bloggers!

    I don't know if I can live up to the legacy you built, Despothera, but I'll try. Your theories were always so interesting! ~Mashiara
  11. Mashiara Sedai

    anyone else gone through the tropes?

    Oh wow! That's really interesting. I've never seen it broken down so simply before. They say there's nothing new under the sun. I guess that proves it. Still, it takes a genius like RJ to meld it all together into a million overlapping storylines that make sense. ~Mashiara
  12. Mashiara Sedai

    Fan Art Friday: fee-absinthe

    I think that is one of the best Nynaeves I've ever seen. Wow!
  13. Mashiara Sedai

    Fan Art Friday: Everybody Changes

    Hahahaha. That exchange from the new prologue is hilarious! I bought "From the Two Rivers" when it first came out just so I could read the prologue. It's also neat to see artwork from their past and their present. Good job, Peregrine!
  14. Mashiara Sedai

    Ajah test

    Haha. What a cool test! I was a little afraid I wouldn't get White Ajah, but I did! White Ajah: 9 Green Ajah: 4 Brown Ajah: 4 Gray Ajah: 3 Yellow Ajah: 3 Blue Ajah: 2 Red Ajah: 0 Yay! ~Mashiara
  15. Mashiara Sedai

    Nynaeve art

    Very beautiful! I love your attention to detail, like the herb pouch at her belt and the fringe on her Yellow Ajah shawl. Her expression is very Nynaeve-ish. Good job! (Nynaeve's my favorite character!) ~Mashiara
  16. Mashiara Sedai

    Wheel of Time car decals

    Here's what they look like on my car. They are AWESOME! ~Mashi
  17. Mashiara Sedai

    Fan Art Friday: Back to the Future

    Hahahaha. Mat's inbox was hilarious! I love how the important ones (from Rand and Perrin, etc.) are still unopened. Great job finding that one, Peregrine!
  18. Mashiara Sedai

    Help with a story?

    I would suggest writing the outline down on paper first. That way, you get the ideas out; perhaps they feel jumbled because they are all stuck inside? I personally feel that having an outline written helps immensely. That way, even when you hit a snag, you can look back and see exactly how the scene plays out. I agree that names are a hassle. I have a word document that I continually add names to when I think of good ones. But, Brandon Sanderson's podcast "Writing Excuses" talked about the topic of picking names in season 6. Here's the link to that episode. http://www.writingexcuses.com/2011/07/31/writing-excuses-6-9-microcasting-2-electric-boogaloo/ In the notes, they have a link to a name generator. I haven't looked at it yet, but it's supposed to be really good at generating names based on the requirements you want (ie: Asian sounding names, etc.). I also struggle to sit down and write sometimes. I think you just have to force it. It'll get easier the more you do it. Try just writing for ten minutes at a time and I'm sure you will feel more comfortable getting your ideas out of your brain. ~Mashiara
  19. Mashiara Sedai

    Thursdays with Tynaal: Interview with Luckers

    Luckers, you're so cool! I agree about Brandon's writing style. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE Brandon's books; I have read all of them and own most of them. His writing style is just a bit... juvenile, I think. It works well in his books, but feels just a bit off in Wheel of Time. People seem to roll their eyes a lot in tGS and ToM (which isn't a common habit through the other books). Some scenes, though, were perfect. I loved Egwene's attack on the Black Ajah and then the defense of the Tower. All I know is that I'm so grateful he is even completing the series.
  20. Mashiara Sedai

    toasting flutes?

    Yikes, that's a tough one, but sounds awesome. Honestly, there's not a lot in the way of Wheel of Time merchendise. The Dragonmount store has jewelry and Taveren Tees has shirts. Other than that, there's nothing I've been able to find. If you're set on trying to get them anyway, I would suggest making them yourself. Charis Sedai has a great tutorial on how to etch glass on the Crafter's board. http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/topic/67738-february-ccc/ It might be worth it to try and etch an Old Tongue phrase, or something else, into the toasting glasses. Hope that helps. ~Mashiara
  21. Mashiara Sedai

    March 2012 - ACW Guild Challenge

    Yay, I've completed another week! This is only my second attempt at a mozaic. It's not as good as I had hoped. Either way, it's the rising sun of Cairhein. ~Mashiara
  22. Mashiara Sedai

    Cairhien Flag Mozaic

    From the album: Cairhien Flag Mozaic

  23. Mashiara Sedai

    A Story

    Malveth, thanks for posting this story. You are a truly gifted writer. Your writing style just dazzled me! I love the formal speech the characters use. It sounds wonderful and makes the dialogue flow so smoothly. There were a few errors I noticed. The first is that you used "waste coat" instead of "waist coat" to describe the Night Folks. Also, you compare Shadowtail's wings to Chinese fans; since this is a fictional world, there's probably no such place as China. Also, when speaking of the Twin-River's history, you call the house "House Two-Rivers." I wasn't sure if this was the name of the House, or if you meant Twin-Rivers instead. For the scene when Kes is telling Blackhorn about his past, I would suggest using a flashback. That way you don't have to put the whole dialogue in quotes and it gets rid of so much first person speech. After that scene was done I was a little startled to remember the story was written in third person; it was just a bit confusing. Other than that it was wonderful! I hope you will post more. ~Mashiara
  24. Mashiara Sedai

    March 2012 - ACW Guild Challenge

    Ohhhh... I love your poem wottom! Fantastic! I also skipped week one, but here's a start of a new story for week two. For week three, I'd like to try something different. We'll see if I really will, though. This story doesn't have a title yet. 2,300 words; I hope that's not too long to post... The common room was filled to bursting. Markle was squished into a table with four other men, their bodies packed together like sardines. There was barely enough room for his plate in front of him. He and the man sitting beside him had developed a sort of complex system. One had to eat while the other drank and then they alternated because there wasn't enough room for them both to lift their hands at the same time. This meant that his smoked fish was cold by the time he finished eating it. Still, the meal was delicious and made up for the lousy dining arrangement. A heaviness hung in the room from all the people pressed so close to one another. It created an atmosphere that was companionable and annoying at the same time. If he had been back home, the people around him would have been his friends or his brothers; the closeness wouldn't have bothered him in the slightest. These men were strangers. They included him in their discussion and treated him cordially, but there was still an emotional distance. He had a slight desire to retire to a room upstairs but the effort of pushing his way through the crowd to reach the stairs seemed too daunting. It would clear out before midnight; most of these men would have to work in the morning. Once Markle's meal was done, he ordered another mug of ale from the barmaid and sat back to enjoy the entertainment. While he ate, a man juggled ten colored balls. It had been interesting to watch during the stints when he was forced to keep his hands still while his neighbor ate. Now, a group of four women played musical instruments. The lead held a wooden lute with eleven strings instead of the usual fifteen. The instrument was missing two courses; Markle hadn't seen one like that before. The shape of the lute was similar to those he played at home, except it was a bit longer in the neck. He wondered where she had gotten such a thing. The other players had a flute, a tambourine, and a small drum. They were decent, and Markle tapped his foot in time to the music. When their song ended, there was a scattered applause. Most men didn't have an ear for music. It was considered a woman's art. Markle had learned how to play many instruments from his mother in place of sisters—since he had none. His four older brothers filled out their father's fishing crew; there was no room for Markle to accompany them. Fishing boats in his town were family operations and no other boat would have him. So, his mother had passed on to him her woman training and he had no choice but to learn. That was how he knew exactly which spices had flavored his fish and how he knew the cut and cloth type of all the outfits in the room. It was really a source of embarrassment for him. His mother was very fond of telling the story of his life to anyone who would listen. After her fourth son was born, she wanted a daughter. She and Markle's father had gone to the village's herb witch and asked for a spell to have a girl child instead of a boy. The witch did so and Mother became pregnant right away. The only problem was that Markle had been born a boy, not a girl. The family had no need for another boy, so Markle felt like the outcast of the family. He had to place within its structure and no purpose to his life. Markle sighed, remembering his childhood. The things his mother taught him were enjoyable enough. He liked to cook and play the lute. He enjoyed having deep conversations with her while they darned Father's old shirts. Still, she treated him like a daughter and it had made him increasingly uncomfortable as the years progressed. That was the reason he was in this town right now. He couldn't stand living with his family anymore. His parents hadn't really objected when he told them he had to leave. Father understood that he had no place among the fishermen and Mother knew that he wouldn't be able to find a man willing to marry him, though she had tried to talk him into trying. There was no choice but for him to move on. They gave him what money they could and sent him to their cousins who lived in a farming community about 500 miles to the south. He had been traveling for ten days and probably had another ten to go. The women on stage bowed and the crowd clapped; Markle had the feel it was only out of politeness, though. As the group of women left the raised platform another woman took their place. She was very pretty and wore a dress design Markle had never seen. Her long black hair was pulled into two tails on either side of her face. The cloth of her dress was spun wool, in a shade of red that was nearly black, but the material clung to her tightly, and only flared out after her hips. Women usually didn't wear such snug garments for comfort sake, his mother had said. It looked incredibly uncomfortable to him, but the other men at his table had their eyes glued to the woman's curve that were accentuated by the dress. Slowly, the woman began to dance. There was no music. Her feet were bare and the skirt flowed back and forth over them. She kept her arms by her side and began to swivel her hips. Markle realized that this was probably the reason it was tight around that area. The graceful motions she made dazzled him with their suggestions. The room had fallen into a hushed silence; even the other women's eyes were glued to the dancer. She took a step forward and began to shuffle her feet in time to the rotation of her hips. Then, she added in gentle and delicate hand movements. She was like the wind, floating rose petals in a soft breeze. She was the ocean's wave during the calm after the storm. She was beauty and nature all wrapped up in an incredibly tight dress. Her movements, which had been slow and deliberate began to gain speed. As she did so, her gestures became wild, like the fury of the storm unleashed. Her long tails of hair swung around her with reckless abandon. The skirt of her dress swirled up around her as she spun precise circles. When it looked like she had gone as fast as she could, she increased her speed. Her feet flicked in and out of her skirts, kicking high into the air and landing with perfect timing. After several minutes her tempest slowed. She let her hands drop, moving only her feet and hips. Then she ceased her shuffles. For two more heartbeats she swung her hips from side to side. Then, she stopped. Markle felt as if he had come out of a daze as he stared at the woman on the stage. The whole performance had been like magic. She had captivated him and filled him with so much longing and desire he could hardly keep himself from running towards her. Then he realized that every other man in the room looked on the point of rushing her too. She hadn't been dancing for me, he thought, feeling his face blush with embarrassment. Why had it felt like she had? There was only a few moments of silence before the room erupted in cheers. The woman smiled widely, bowed, and then jumped off the stage. The men closest gathered around her, complimenting her beauty and her skill. Markle felt an inkling of jealousy that those men were able to say everything he was thinking. Then he berated himself. She was not an old woman, but she looked older than him by a good many years. So, she had danced beautifully; that was no reason to fall head over heels for an older woman. Suddenly feeling grumpy because he had been hoodwinked like the rest of the fools, Markle got to his feet and pushed his way through the bodies to the innkeeper. The room had become noisy once again so he had to shout to get the man's attention. "I'd like to be shown to my room now, if you please," Markle said. The man looked at him and nodded. "As you wish, young Master. However, please forgive me for this, but we require all payment in advance. I mean no disrespect, it's just we have to be careful, you understand?" "Of course," Markle said. Most inns had required the fee up front. Untying his belt pouch, Markle reached in for a handful of silver coins. There was nothing there. He stretched his fingers further. Still nothing. He glanced down at the pouch and pulled the opening wide to peer inside. It was empty. Earlier today he had five gold coins and thirty silver left in his pouch. He had only spent one silver coin on the meal and ale. It was impossible for all his coins to be gone. "Is there something wrong, young Master?" the innkeeper asked. His tone was still polite, but his eyes had narrowed. "My pouch is empty," Markle told him, his voice breathy and unbelieving. "It was full when I sat down to dinner. I had paid one of the barmaids but there was still more in here." "Did someone have access to your belt while you ate?" "Of course not," Markle said. "We were all jammed in so tight no one could have touched it without me noticing." "I am sorry, young Master, but if you don't have the coin, I cannot give you a room." Markle blinked in confusion. What was going on? There was no way those coins could have just disappeared. He had paid for the meal, felt the rest of the coins in the pouch, watched the juggler, ate his fish, drank his ale, then watched the last two performers. It was completely impossible for him to lose his money while sitting in a crowded inn. "But I had some," Markle told the man. "I'm not lying. I had at least thirty silver coins and five gold. Where has it gone?" "Does your pouch look like it's been cut from the bottom?" Markle felt along the seam of the leather pieces. He had sewn this himself and knew the stitching was excellent. His fingers felt the stitches; all were in place. No one could have climbed under the table to cut a hole in it anyway. Not even a child could have squeezed through that confined table. "No, there's no hole," he said in amazement. "I am sorry," the innkeeper repeated. "If you have no more coin, not even for ale, I'm afraid I must ask you to leave, young Master." "But I—" What else could he do? There was no logical explanation for what had happened; the innkeeper wouldn't believe his coins had just vanished. Grimacing, Markle nodded. "Thank you for your hospitality." Markle went back to the table he had shared with the other men and grabbed his traveling pack. It contained a few days change of clothes as well as his other necessities. Down at the very bottom of the pack was his handmade lute. He kept that hidden at all times, unless he was alone. He said quick farewells to the men there, though their attention still seemed to be on the dancer. Well, at least he had been polite and kept to the formalities. Outside in the dirt street, Markle looked around. Hippshaw was a coastal town, and like all the others before it had the smell of the wind, waves, and salt in the air; that made him homesick. Full night had already fallen and a three-quarter moon was rising over the ocean to the east. He would have a hard time finding a sympathetic person in the dark. Most families wouldn't even let a stranger in during the daytime. Baffled by the whole event, and cursing his bad luck once again, he began to walk south through the town. A few nights he had been forced to sleep under trees off the dirt path; what was one more night? He had a blanket in his pack so he wouldn't freeze. But how was he to get to his cousin's farm if he had no money? Once past the last house of the town, Markle began to look for a nice place to set up camp. If he was lucky, he would be able to find some dry branches and start a fire. A presentable place appeared not a mile outside the town. It looked like it had been a campsite before. There was even a stone circle for a fire pit. He found a handful of branches suitable for a fire and used his flint stone to get one started. Before long, he had a nice sized fire blazing in front of him. The nights chill vanished slightly and Markle sat down in his blankets and stared at the flames. The bizarre events of this evening ran through his mind. When had there been an opportunity for someone to steal my coins? The pouch strings had been tied tight when I approached the innkeeper. There was not a single second out of the day that he could not account for. It didn't make sense and the strange feeling the situation gave him kept him up most of the night.
  25. Mashiara Sedai

    Mat in felt!

    This may be the coolest thing I've ever seen! Good job. It looks fantastic! ~Mashiara
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