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GOODKIND III


Werthead

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Goodkind quote of the day: Hissing, hackles lifting, the chicken's head rose. Kahlan pulled back. Its claws digging into stiff dead flesh, the chicken slowly turned to face her. It cocked its head, making its comb flop, its wattles sway. "Shoo," Kahlan heard herself whisper. There wasn't enough light, and besides, the side of its beak was covered with gore, so she couldn't tell if it had the dark spot, But she didn't need to see it. "Dear spirits, help me," she prayed under her breath. The bird let out a slow chicken cackle. It sounded like a chicken, but in her heart she knew it wasn't. In that instant, she completely understood the concept of a chicken that was not a chicken. This looked like a chicken, like most of the Mud People's chickens. But this was no chicken. This was evil manifest.

--Terry Goodkind, Soul of the Fire

You're welcome. :D

edited for spelling.

:rofl:

Absolutely brilliant. Goodkind's a genius - who else could have come up with such a great idea - evil chickens. Goodkind may have had some pretty hilarious moments before, but this is really some of the most humorous writing I've ever seen in fantasy. It doesn't require any commentary.

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It's time for...the Terry Goodkind Quote of the day!

The Sister at her head held the twisted cloth over the hooded face. "Open your mouth, and bite down on this." She put the cloth between the woman's teeth. "Now, open your legs. You must keep them open. If you try to close them, it will be a rejection of what you are being offered, and you will lose the chance. Forever."

The naked woman stared fixedly up at nothing. She panted with fear, her breast heaving. Slowly, she spread her legs.

The beast stirred, giving a low grunt.

The Namble sniffed at her crotch. Its long tongue flicked out, running ver her. She flinched, making a small jerk of a sound against the cloth in her teeth, but she keept her legs open. Her eyes did not move. She did not look at thte namble. The Sisters in the circle began a soft chant. The namble licked her again, slower, grunting this time as it did so. She squealed against the rag. Beads of sweat shimmered on her flesh. She kept her legs wide apart.

Riisng up on its knees, the beast gave a throaty roar to the black sky. Its pointed, barbed, erect phallus stood out, plainly silhouetted against the candles beyond. Muscles bulged in knotted cords along its arms and shoulderes asthe namble bent forward, putting a fist to each side of the woman. Its tongue licked outaround her throat as it gave a vibration rumble of a grow, and then it lowered itself, covering her with its massive form.

Its hips hunched forward. The womans eyes winced shut as she screamed against the cloth in her teeth. The namble gave a quick, powerful thrust and her eyes snapped open in a panic of pain. Even with the cloth clenched in her teeth, her screams could be heard over the chanting each time the beast knocked the wind from her, adding more force to the shrieks.

The beast thrashed at the Sister on the ground as the threes Sisiters held her. Her muffled screams of torment ripped at Margaret's heart.

The Sister holding the cloth finally spoke. " If you want the gift, you must encourate himto give it to you. He will not surrender it unless you overcome his control -- unless you talke it from him. You must win it from him. Do you understand?"

Crying, her eyes shut tight, the woman nodded.

The Sister pulled the cloth away. "Then he is yours now. Take the gift, if you will."

The other two released her arms and the three of them returned to their places in the circle, taking up the chanting with the others. The woman let out a wail that turned margarets bloodto ice. It made her ears hurt.

The woman flug her arms and legsaroundthe namble, clutching herself to it, moving with it, mving with the chanting. Her screams died away as she panted with the effort.

Please, dear Creator, Margaret begged in her mind, let it end.

And then, with a husky grunt, it did. Margaret opened her eyes to see the namble still, its back hunched. It shuddered, and then slowly went limp. Thewoman struggled to breathe under its weight.

--Terry Goodkind, The Stone of Tears. One of TG's best sex scenes ever. It's tough being Black Ajah a Sister of the Dark.

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It's time for...the Terry Goodkind Quote of the day!

...

Remember when I said that L. Ron Hubbard had some nauseating scenes? Take this one, times it by one hundred, and you'll have something vaguely approximating the experience of reading Mission Earth.

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--Terry Goodkind, The Stone of Tears. One of TG's best sex scenes ever. It's tough being Black Ajah a Sister of the Dark.

:sick: :sick: I remember that scene. It made me feel unclean for reading it once, and it's slime still lingers. :rolleyes:

So I have to ask if a Mord Sith and and a Namble got together who would come out on top?

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OMFG. :sick:

That was the sickest thing I've ever read! Bestiality at its finest (or should I say worst?)!

Excuse me, I'll throw up in a while.

So I am guessing Terry is into tentacle hentai?

It seems he into a bit more than that! Kinda reminds me of Inma Seiden....

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Hrmm...

Point taken.

But haven't you noticed that former fans/addicts tend to be the ones most virulently against something afterwards?

Oh shit...did I just say what I think I just said? :o

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You're absolutely right MMM, we've all read this shit. Reading Terry Goodkind is like masturbating with sandpaper. Most people are smart enough not to try it. If they try it they'll probably stop early. But for some of us, we think, hey, If you don't finish, what was the point of all that suffering?

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What's funny is all you losers make fun of Terry.

But you've read his books.

So you lose.

:P Well, be it far from me to deny that Goodkind has some form of strange magnetism. You read one of his books, think "oh man, that was really, really bad, I'm never touching this again," and then two months later, there you are again, picking up his next book, just to see if he can possibly be as bad as you remember him as being.

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