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Bertie : Join us.
Rand : No.
Bertie : Your father was a fighter!
Rand : I know what my father was.
Bertie : Did you know your mother was an Aiel and you’re a half-breed?
Seamus : Ai, now that’s just wrong, Bertie.
Bertie : Tough times, my friend.
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Gawyn : By order of these lands, I claim the right of Prima Nocte.
Perrin : What the hell is that?
Gawyn : I shall bless this marriage by bedding the bride tonight.
Mat : By god you shall not!
Gawyn : It is my noble right. Now, who are the bridal couple?
Rand : Egwene and I are. But you cannot have her.
Gawyn : Then I shall cut off your pinkie.
Egwene : No Rand! I shall go.
Rand : You will?
Egwene : Yes, willingly. Very willingly.
Rand : Try to close your eyes and think of me, my darling.
Egwene : Yeah, um okay… whatever.
Gawyn : Huh?
Egwene : Take me away, sexy.
Gawyn : Damn!
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Rand : Every city in England begging for mercy and yet I cannot help them!
Bashere : Perhaps…
Rand : With my advisors in Seanchan, all I have to fall back on is the weak rule of the sodomite, Matrim Cauthon.
Mat : Oh now just wait a minute. There is no way we can accommodate this into the Wheel of Time.
Author : The Prince of Wales was a sodomite in Braveheart. We need a parallel here.
Mat : Take Perrin!
Perrin : Hell no!
Mat : Take Bashere!
Bashere : Been there, done that, was demoted.
Author : Sorry Matrim. Take one for the team.
Mat : But… but…
Rand : Perrin come with me, we need to organize these counter assaults. Matrim, your silk clothes have arrived from Edinburgh.
Mat : I’ll have you know…! Hey, these are kind of cool. How do I look?
Chamber slave : Amazing, your eminence.
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Rand : Why do we have blue war paint on our faces?
Perrin : I was about to ask you.
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Semirhage : Rand Wallace, you stand on charge of high treason.
Rand : I’m innocent.
Semirhage : Confess and you will receive a quick death. Deny and you must be purified by pain.
Rand : I confess that I committed treason against the Dark One. I am guilty.
Semirhage : Sounds like denial to me.
Demandred : I agree.
Semirhage : On the morrow, I shall deliver your purification.
Rand : I confessed!
Semirhage : Enough… take him away.
Rand : No!!!
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Semirhage : Just say one word… MERCY … and it will all end.
Rand : *gasp*
Semirhage : The prisoner wishes to say a word…
Rand : *gasp*
Semirhage : *suspense*
Rand : FAILE!!!!!! …
*silence*
Perrin : WHAT!
Faile : *gulp*
Min : WHAT!
Aviendha : ^$%%$%$!!!
Elayne : Mother&^!!!
Semirhage : Shiit! Corporal, archers on the wall. Now!
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Ishamael : What news of the south, my lord?
Sammael : No news, my lord. I have sent riders to speed.
Ishamael : I was out in Seanchan these past few weeks trying to expand our future kingdom. The news, my lord, is that our entire northern army has been annihilated. And you have done nothing.
Sammael : I have ordered conscription of Trollocs, my lord. The dragon has Callandor.
Ishamael : Are you telling me that we’ve held back conscription all these years?
Sammael : Well.. some of the Trollocs insisted on educating themselves and not becoming mindless killing machines.
Ishamael : ….
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Ishamael : There is an outlaw, Rand Wallace who has routed one of my garrisons and killed the local magistrate. How would you deal with this problem?
Rahvin : The same as I would with any other common brigand. Have the noble lord arrest this charlatan and have him punished accordingly.
Ishamael : *slap*
Rahvin :
Ishamael : Rand Wallace has already killed the noble lord and burned down the garrison, and stolen Callandor, and made slaves of the local populace, and forced poodles to do somersaults.
Rahvin : He has!?
Ishamael : Well no… but he has killed the noble lord, you moron.
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Sammael : The Trollocs are ready, sire.
Ishamael : Not the Trollocs. My scouts tell me the Ash’aman are miles away and of no threat to us. Trollocs cost money. Send in the Darkfriends, the dead cost nothing.
Sammael : But sire, the Darkfriends deserted when they discovered you wanted them to fight.
Ishamael : Damn their treachery!
Sammael : … but they returned when I told them they would be immortal in return.
Ishamael : Damn their ambition!
Sammael : Should we send them in?
Ishamael : Damn your smugness!
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Rahvin : Here are the Great Lord Ishamael’s terms.
Bashere : We’re listening.
Rahvin : Surrender now, and he will give you estates in Pretty Blight and matching estates of equal value in Quiet Blight.
Bashere : We’ve never heard of those suburbs.
Rahvin : They are newly formed from 3rd Age corruption.
Bashere : Damn our corrupt forefathers to hell!
Rahvin : Your decision?
Bashere : Surrender my men into slavery for more land? Sure.
Rahvin : Ah… good. Tell them the Trolloc pots are a new form of gateway used by the Ash’aman.
Bashere : It won’t be a problem. They’re from Mayene.
Rahvin : I feel you.
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Ishamael :
Graendal’s head! In a basket!Demandred : What beast would do such a thing!?
Ishamael : If Rand Wallace can cut off Graendal’s head, he could invade the Blight unopposed. I must make a truce with him. I need to send someone. Not I. If I fell under that madman’s sword, it might be my head in a basket.
Demandred : Send me! Send me!
Ishamael : Whom to send…
Demandred : Send me! Send me!
Ishamael : Not Moghedien – the sight of her would only encourage someone to invade the Blight.
Demandred : I know you can hear me, dammit.
Ishamael : Oh all right… go then.
Demandred : Yes!
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Ishamael : You spoke to this Rand Wallace. What type of man is he?
Demandred : A mindless savage, my lord. Not a great leader like you, my lord.
Ishamael : You may return to your embroidery.
Demandred : Humbly, my lord.
Sammael : You did return with the gold?
Demandred : No. I gave it to the children who had suffered during this war.
Ishamael : Mwah-ha-ha!
Sammael : Mwah-ha-ha!
All : Mwah-ha-ha!
Demandred : I’m serious!
Ishamael : …
Sammael : I think it’s time for Demandred’s biannual tour of the Blight, Lord Ishamael. To remind him exactly where we are, and what it means to be Chosen.
Ishamael : I quite agree. Start with Thakandar. And make sure he leaves his smelling salts and ear muffs behind.
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Matt : I’m not wearing undies
Rand : Dude, it’s a kilt.
Matt : Ah. That also explains the breeze. For a moment, I thought you were channeling.
Rand : Dude.
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Rand : You may leave. But many years from now when sitting alone, you will wonder if you could have one chance, just one chance to fight the Shadow and scream to them – that they can take your lives but they’ll never take your FREEDOM!
Crowd : …
Tylee : Not the best choice of words for the damane, my lord Rand Wallace.
Rand : Shit happens.
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