Sorcery Forged

· The Dream of the Druid Кніга 2 · Simon and Schuster · Чытае Antony Ferguson
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5 гадз 28 хв
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A legendary warrior protects a young woman who may be his daughter as destiny draws them into a perilous quest against a ruthless tyrant and forbidden magic in this action-packed epic fantasy of sorcery, redemption, and a kingdom on the brink of ruin.

Is she my daughter? I protect her against steel and sorcery as though she is, and maybe it will give meaning to my life…

I may never learn the truth. Perhaps I don’t deserve to. All I need to know is that her enemies will kill her if they can. That makes them my enemies, and I am Isarn the Invincible. A name to make them tremble.

And she has power herself. Strands of destiny swirl through the very air we breathe, and lay before us a quest more dangerous than anything I have known.

For the land, ruled by a tyrant, stands upon the brink of ruin. The task fate sets me is just the first step to saving it. Yet my enemies unleash unspeakable magic to destroy any threat.

Sorcery that even the goddess of evil forbids…
A legendary warrior protects a young woman who may be his daughter as destiny draws them into a perilous quest against a ruthless tyrant and forbidden magic in this action-packed epic fantasy of sorcery, redemption, and a kingdom on the brink of ruin. Is she my daughter? I protect her against st...

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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.
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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