The Queen of Stone: Thorn of Breland
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
In the land of monsters, you'll want her by your side.
Nyrielle Tam--better known by her code name, Thorn--is a Dark Lantern sent undercover to a summit in the monstrous kingdom of Droaam. The beasts of Droaam have organized and want recognition from the kingdoms of Khorvaire. Breland attends to gauge its neighbors' reaction to the new state's demands of equality . . . and to take the opportunity to recover something long ago stolen by the mysterious Sheshka, Queen of the Medusas. It's up to Thorn to accomplish both, while keeping her King and Country out of war.
The creator of the world of Eberron returns with a series that shows off Eberron's cross-genre capabilities--all the smarts and action of a spy thriller, with the magic and depth of world only fantasy can create. There's something here for every fan!
as he stared down at them. He had the physique of an ogre, the bearing of a barbarian king, and a gleam of intelligence in his eyes. He wore black silk with silver trim, and two horns rose from his forehead. He was handsome and fierce, and Thorn couldn’t help but think of the tales of demon princes of Shavarath. But he was no demon. He was an oni, an ogre mage—mighty and magical, but still a native of Eberron. “Honored guests!” His voice was deep and rich, with the timbre of a master
flee, she held her ground. Compared to the mind flayer, this creature was almost mundane. And the manticore seemed more curious than aggressive; it was testing her. It was an opportunity. “I’ve had all the horse I can stomach for one evening. How’s your appetite for flesh?” “My hunger is all-consuming,” the manticore replied. “But you have chosen your shape well. I have no taste for elf, and I see the taint of the old ones in your features.” He sank his teeth into the centaur’s chest, tearing
to take that chance. She traced the scene in her mind: Lunging forward, striking Sheshka with an elbow, then sweeping her blade down into Szaj’s neck. The pain should incapacitate Sheshka for at least a few moments, long enough to take her down and knock her blade away. But she needed the medusa to lower her guard. I’ll have to tell her eventually, Thorn reasoned. “Harryn Stormblade.” Silence settled across the room. Sheshka’s vipers became still. Thorn leaped forward. But as she drew back her
silhouettes of guardians standing on the walls, the shapes of halberds and arbalests set against the night. No one was challenging Sheshka’s approach; it seemed that she had friends after all. Thorn could hear the rats screeching behind them, claws tearing at the earth. The mud had slowed them down, but they were closing in once more. The women would reach the barricade before the rats, but then it would come down to battle. Thorn hoped Sheshka’s allies were good at their work. They gave no
came closer, and when Thorn caught sight of her, she knew exactly who she was. Tall and thin, hair as black as a crow’s wing and just as ragged, yet surrounding her like a shroud woven from the night itself. I could see that her skin was flawless beneath the dirt, and her eyes were as dark as her hair. The dark-haired woman went straight to Beren and picked him up as if he were a child. She opened her mouth, and as Thorn had guessed, rows of razor sharp teeth hid behind her flawless smile.