Jerrad, whatever you do, don’t let him get to the Horn. Spread out and come at him from every direction. Except one night last week he flew the horse somewhere back east. The others could barely discern the distance-diminished smoke of the campfire. Yet they persisted, motivated by tradition, the challenge, and the fervor of the two doing the talking.ĭown there, said Jerrad, pointing into a dusk-filled, deep, pine-greened canyon. These five had fantasies of restoring an empire raped away from their ancestors. The man who could wrest it from its owner and master it would want for nothing, could create the wealth to buy anything. This Horn, the Horn of the Star Rider, the Windmjirnerhorn, was reputed to be a horn of plenty. His final remark was almost hysterically excited. Jerrad’s found him, camped below the mountain. Birdman brought one in just when I got home. But word came: a small old man and a winged horse have been seen near the Caverns of the Old Ones. Thunder Mountain.ĭenied a response, the newcomer continued, More of my best agents spent. The Disciple’s angel was the Star Rider.įine, said the one who made decisions. I questioned three men who accompanied the Disciple to Malik Taus. It cost the lives of twelve good men, but they were profitably spent. The wear and dust of a savage journey still marked him. Afe Prologue Summer of the Year 994 After the Founding of the Empire of Ilkazar Hunt's EndĪ blue-lighted room hollowed from living rock.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |