The Jewel of Turmish (Forgotten Realms: The Cities, Book 3)
Mel Odom
Language: English
Pages: 214
ISBN: 0786926988
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Alaghôn -- The Jewel of Turmish
Preserving the balance of nature is a way of life for Haarn Brightoak, no matter what the cost, but even his dedication to the customs of the druid is put to the test when a long-dead evil returns to the world of the living. As this vile creature gathers its undead army, Haarn must decide if he will compromise his way of life to defend the city that has never welcomed him.
The third title in the swashbuckling The Cities series, this novel explores the Vilhon Reach, an area of the Forgotten Realms world that previously had little information written about it.
The Jewel of Turmish is the first Forgotten Realms novel from popular author Mel Odom since his trilogy of titles in The Threat from the Sea series.
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Retail EPUB, includes TOC/chapters
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Can’t. The coin has to be wanted. I had never even heard of Malar when it came into my position.” Cerril pressed the knife blade harder. “Take the coin.” Slowly, the man reached for the coin in Cerril’s hand. The man plucked at the coin but it refused to release Cerril’s hand. It lay there in the boy’s palm, attached as firmly as a blood leech. “I can’t,” the man said, removing his hand. “It knows I don’t want it.” Cerril groaned in fear and anger. He almost slit the man’s throat, then he.
Bear weighed at least a dozen times as much as the young woman but made even less noise. Still, despite his own feelings about her woodcraft, Druz passed more quietly than the other group making their way through the dark forest no more than a hundred paces away. A cry of pain echoed through the night. Druz’s head snapped up. “That was a woman’s voice.” Haarn made no response. He’d recognized the sound as being from a woman as well. Without another word, Druz crept through the forest toward.
Of men sitting at a cookfire still talked and drank from a bottle they passed around. They’d arrived back in the camp a while ago. No one else had shown up, nor did any more bands seem expected. “You’ve never had a … wanderlust?” Druz asked. “Of course I have,” Haarn said, barely paying attention. “I’ve wandered all over Turmish.” “Did you ever go to a city?” “No.” Druz couldn’t believe that. “How can you talk so badly of Alaghôn and other cities if you’ve never seen one?” Haarn looked at.
Brighter and turned red with heat. Steam poured from the mark. Trembling, Cerril placed Malar’s coin on top of Eldath’s mark. Even before Cerril could withdraw his hand, the coin turned blistering hot, scorching his fingertips. He drew his fingers back, sticking them in his mouth to cool them, not wanting to use the icy surface of the coffin for any kind of relief. He didn’t trust it. Steam poured from the coffin around Malar’s coin. The gold glowed red as it sank into the ice and obliterated.
Creature’s broad back. Nearly a foot of steel penetrated the shambler’s body before the scimitar stuck. A frantic buzz reached the druid’s ears, and he knew at once it was the horde of flying carrion beetles his spell had summoned. He just didn’t know if they were arriving in time. The shambler shifted slightly as Broadfoot’s wailing blows finally died away and the bear slumped in the creature’s vine-arms. Fearing the bear was dead, hoping his companion was only unconscious, Haarn shoved the.