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By Robert Jordan
The Wheel of Time turns and a long time come and go. What used to be, what is going to be, and what's, may possibly but fall less than the Shadow. for hundreds of years, gleemen have informed of the nice Hunt of the Horn. Now the Horn itself is located: the Horn of Valere lengthy proposal simply legend, the Horn so that it will bring up the useless heroes of the ages.
And it really is stolen.
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Extra resources for The Great Hunt
Brightly coloured carpets lined the anteroom ground in layers, and the room used to be pleasantly offered with chairs and cushioned benches and small tables, the wooden easily labored or simply polished. Brocaded curtains sided the tall arrowslits to lead them to look extra like home windows. No fires burned within the fireplaces; the day was once hot, and the Shienaran sit back wouldn't come till dusk. Fewer than part a dozen of the Aes Sedai who had observed the Amyrlin have been there. Verin Mathwin and Serafelle, of the Brown Ajah, didn't lookup at Moiraine’s front. Serafelle was once carefully analyzing an previous publication with a worn, light leather-based disguise, dealing with its tattered pages conscientiously, whereas plump Verin, sitting cross-legged underneath an arrowslit, held a small blossom as much as the sunshine and made notes and sketches in an actual hand in a e-book balanced on her knee. She had an open inkpot at the ground beside her, and a small pile of plant life on her lap. The Brown sisters involved themselves with little beside looking wisdom. Moiraine occasionally puzzled in the event that they have been relatively conscious of what was once happening on the earth, or maybe instantly round them. the 3 different girls already within the room grew to become, yet they made no attempt to strategy Moiraine, purely checked out her. One, a slim lady of the Yellow Ajah, she didn't be aware of; she spent too little time in Tar Valon to grasp the entire Aes Sedai, even supposing their numbers have been now not very nice. She used to be accustomed to the 2 final, although. Carlinya used to be as faded of epidermis and chilly of demeanour because the white fringe on her scarf, the complete opposite in each method of darkish, fiery Alanna Mosvani, of the golf green, yet they either stood and stared at her with no forty five THE nice HUNT conversing, with out expression. Alanna sharply snugged her scarf round her, yet Carlinya made no movement in any respect. The slim Yellow sister grew to become away with an air of remorse. “The gentle illumine you all, Sisters,” Moiraine stated. not anyone responded. She used to be unsure Serafelle or Verin had even heard. the place are the others? there has been little need for all of them to be there – such a lot will be resting of their rooms, freshing from the adventure – yet she used to be on facet now, all of the questions she couldn't ask working via her head. None of it confirmed on her face. the interior door opened, and Leane seemed, with no her gilt-flamed employees. The Keeper of the Chronicles was once as tall as such a lot males, willowy and sleek, nonetheless attractive, with coppery pores and skin and brief, darkish hair. She wore a blue stole, a hand broad, rather than a scarf, for she sat within the corridor of the Tower, even though as Keeper, to not symbolize her Ajah. “There you are,” she stated swiftly to Moiraine, and gestured to the door in the back of her. “Come, Sister. The Amyrlin Seat is ready. ” She spoke clearly in a clipped, fast manner that by no means replaced, no matter if she was once indignant or cheerful or excited. As Moiraine Leane in, she puzzled what emotion the Keeper used to be feeling now. Leane pulled the door to in the back of them; it banged close with whatever of the sound of a phone door remaining. The Amyrlin Seat herself sat in the back of a wide desk in the midst of the carpet, and at the desk rested a flattened dice of gold, the scale of a go back and forth chest and ornately labored with silver.