Arena Forged
Robert Ryan
مهر ۲۰۲۶ · The Dream of the Druid کتاب 1 · Simon and Schuster · روایت‌شده توسط Antony Ferguson
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کتاب صوتی
5 س 34 د
خلاصه‌نشده
family_home
واجد شرایط
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نمونه رایگانی به‌مدت 10 د می‌خواهید؟ هرزمان که می‌خواهید گوش دهید، حتی وقتی آفلاین هستید.
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درباره این کتاب صوتی
A disgraced former arena champion must reclaim his fading strength and forbidden magic to protect the daughter who does not know him from an ancient evil and a ruthless god in this action-packed epic fantasy of gladiators, betrayal, redemption, and found family.
Regret is a burden. I should know. And magic makes it worse…
Once, the crowd adored me. I was young and the world was small. I fought in the arena, and I was good. The best. Warriors feared me. Kings praised me. And women…
Best to say little of that. Yet one ruined me. Cast me aside. Betrayed me. Those who showered me with gold turned to hunting me with steel. Because of her.
Age hides me now. But it robs me too. Strength and skill are fading, just when I need them most. The adoring crowds of my youth would not know me, and my name is dead on their lips. Fame, you are a traitor.
Now, another woman comes into my life as the ancient evil I once fled casts its shadow over the realm. She is my daughter, and I protect her from her enemies. Yet I do not tell her the truth.
Men I can still fight. Magic I can thwart, with a touch of my own. But the leader of my daughter’s enemies is worse.
She is a god…
Regret is a burden. I should know. And magic makes it worse…
Once, the crowd adored me. I was young and the world was small. I fought in the arena, and I was good. The best. Warriors feared me. Kings praised me. And women…
Best to say little of that. Yet one ruined me. Cast me aside. Betrayed me. Those who showered me with gold turned to hunting me with steel. Because of her.
Age hides me now. But it robs me too. Strength and skill are fading, just when I need them most. The adoring crowds of my youth would not know me, and my name is dead on their lips. Fame, you are a traitor.
Now, another woman comes into my life as the ancient evil I once fled casts its shadow over the realm. She is my daughter, and I protect her from her enemies. Yet I do not tell her the truth.
Men I can still fight. Magic I can thwart, with a touch of my own. But the leader of my daughter’s enemies is worse.
She is a god…
A disgraced former arena champion must reclaim his fading strength and forbidden magic to protect the daughter who does not know him from an ancient evil and a ruthless god in this action-packed epic fantasy of gladiators, betrayal, redemption, and found family.
Regret is a burden. I should know...
کاوش موارد بیشتر
درباره نویسنده
Robert Ryan...
I'm a man born in the wrong era. My heart yearns for faraway places and even further afield times. Sometimes I imagine myself in a Viking mead-hall. The long winter night presses in, but the shimmering embers of a log in the hearth hold back the cold. The chieftain calls for a story, and I take a sip from my drinking horn and stand up...
Or maybe the desert stars shine bright and clear, obscured occasionally by wisps of smoke from burning camel dung. A dry gust of wind lifts sand grains into the air and blows them through our lonely campsite, and the wayfarers about me stir restlessly. I sip cool water and begin to speak.
I'm a man born in the wrong era. My heart yearns for faraway places and even further afield times. Sometimes I imagine myself in a Viking mead-hall. The long winter night presses in, but the shimmering embers of a log in the hearth hold back the cold. The chieftain calls for a story, and I take a sip from my drinking horn and stand up...
Or maybe the desert stars shine bright and clear, obscured occasionally by wisps of smoke from burning camel dung. A dry gust of wind lifts sand grains into the air and blows them through our lonely campsite, and the wayfarers about me stir restlessly. I sip cool water and begin to speak.
Robert Ryan...
I'm a man born in the wrong era. My heart yearns for faraway places and even further afield times. Sometimes I imagine myself in a Viking mead-hall. The long winter night presses in, but the shimmering embers of a log in the hearth hold back the cold. The chieftain calls for a sto...
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