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By Robert Jordan The Eye of the World; The Great Hunt; The Dragon Reborn; The Shadow Rising; The Wheel of Time - Robert The Eye of the World: Book One of 'The Wheel of Time' (Wheel of Time series) by Robert Jordan. Read online, or download in DRM-free EPUB format. And it all begins in the first book, The Eye of the World. Download the first portion right (for Kindle). ePub (Nook, iBooks, KoBo, Sony).

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Since its debut in , The Wheel of Time® by Robert Jordan has captivated millions of readers around the globe with its scope, originality. Since , when Robert Jordan's The Wheel of Time® burst on the world with its first book, The Eye of the World, readers have been anticipating the final. “Robert Jordan has come to dominate the world Tolkien began to reveal. . The black-clad man's eyes widened, darted to the body of the golden-haired woman, .

Automatyczne logowanie. With his well-fleshed-out characters, dark imagery, comic relief, vivid landscapes, and a fascinating sense of timelessness, Jordan has created a complex literature with a language and reality all its own. Amid all the Sturm und Drang, however, is a finely tuned comic strain that both leavens the story and adds to its development. A major fantasy epic. Plotlines [are] strummed with resonating long-wave rhythms something like Beethoven's Eroica. Furthermore, Jordan makes the reader put down the book regretting the wait for the next title in the series. It is a fantasy tale seldom equaled and still less often surpassed in English.

Open religious and political conflicts add a gritty realism, while the cities and courts provide plenty of drama and splendor. Women have a stronger role than in Tolkien Each character in this large cast remains distinct Their adventures are varied, and exciting The Eye of the World stands alone as a fantasy epic.

He has a fine eye for detail and a vivid sense of drama. Jordan has a powerful vision of good and evil-- but what strikes me as most pleasurable about The Eye of the World is all the fascinating people moving through a rich and interesting world. Impressive work, and highly recommended. Robert Jordan was born in in Charleston, South Carolina.

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Book One of 'The Wheel of Time'

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Published in: That strike had been close-perhaps on his property. He itched to go inspect the damage. Lightning fire could destroy a man, burn him out of his land. Up here in the Borderlands, so many things were unintentional tinder-dry grass, dry shingles, dry seed. But the clouds were still distant. That strike couldn't have been on his property. The silver and black thunderheads rolled and boiled, feeding and consuming themselves.

He closed his eyes, calming himself, taking a deep breath. Had he imagined the thunder? Was he going off the side, as Gaffin always joked? He opened his eyes. And the clouds were right there, directly above his house. It was as if they had suddenly rolled forward, intending to strike while his gaze was averted. They dominated the sky now, sweeping distantly in either direction, massive and overwhelming. He could almost feel their weight pressing the air down around him.

He drew in a breath that was heavy with sudden humidity, and his brow prickled with sweat. Those clouds churned, dark black and silver thunderheads shaking with white blasts.

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They suddenly boiled downward, like the funnel cloud of a twister, coming for him. He cried out, raising a hand, as a man might before a powerfully bright light. That blackness. That endless, suffocating blackness.

It would take him. He knew.


And then the clouds were gone. His pipe hit the porch's floorboards, clicking softly, tossing burned tabac out in a spray across the steps. He hadn't realized he'd let it slip free. Renald hesitated, looking up at empty blue sky, realizing that he was cringing at nothing.

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The clouds were off on the horizon again, some forty leagues distant. They thundered softly. He picked up his pipe with a shaking hand, spotted from age, tanned from years spent in the sun. Just a trick of your mind, Renald, he told himself. You're going off the side, sure as eggs is eggs. He was on edge because of the crops. That had him on edge. Though he spoke optimistic words for the lads, it just wasn't natural.

Something should have sprouted by now. He'd farmed that land for forty years! Barley didn't take this long to sprout.

Burn him, but it didn't. What was going on in the world these days?

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Plants couldn't be depended on to sprout, and clouds didn't stay where they should. He forced himself to sit back down in his chair, legs shaking. Getting old, I am. He'd worked a farm all of his life. Farmsteading in the Borderlands was not easy, but if you worked hard, you could grow a successful life while you grew strong crops. Well, Renald was one of the most successful farmers in the area. He'd done well enough to buy out the two farms beside his, and he could run thirty wagons to market each fall.

He now had six good men working for him, plowing the fields, riding the fences. Not that he didn't have to climb down in the muck every day and show them what good farming was all about. You couldn't let a little success ruin you. Yes, he'd worked the land, lived the land, as his father always used to say.

He understood the weather as well as a man could. Those clouds weren't natural.

They rumbled softly, like an animal growling on a dark night. Lurking in the nearby woods. He jumped at another crash of thunder that seemed too close. Were those clouds forty leagues away? Is that what he'd thought? Looked more like ten leagues away, now that he studied them. His own voice sounded good to him.

It was nice to hear something other than that rumbling and the occasional creak of shutters in the wind. Shouldn't he be able to hear Auaine inside, getting supper ready? That's it. A faint rumbling came from the right. At first, he assumed it was the thunder.