Tales from the Forgotten Lands

A. Duron A.

Description

With Humans now on the brink of extinction, their Guardian, in desperation, pushes to garner the assistance they need to survive from their neighbours. While they have remained isolated from all but two of these, the Elves and Dwarves, they now must pray that those remaining will assist them and not just kill them on sight. With this in mind a small group, made up of the children of the Elders, and their Guardian set out on the journey of a life time. They must survive many trials and dangers on their quest yet their greatest battle begins once they return. Even with assistance, will they be able to defeat an age old enemy that has brought an entire race to their knees? Or will this herald the end of everything?

Sujets

• Fantasy (canción de Mariah Carey)
• Fantasy

Informations

• Publié par: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Date de parution: 31 janvier 2019
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781528944748
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

Tales from the Forgotten Lands
Parts One to Four
A. A. Duron
Austin Macauley Publishers
2019-01-31
Tales from the Forgotten Lands About the Author Dedication Copyright Information Acknowledgements Synopsis Tales from the Forgotten Lands: Part 1 Chapter 1: After the Storm Chapter 2: Elders and Meetings Chapter 3: The Journey Begins Chapter 4: Ever Onward Chapter 5: River Crossings and Reptiles Chapter 6: Elves and Elders Chapter 7: Dwarves and Devices Chapter 8: The Viehu Chapter 9: To Battle or to Aid Chapter 10: A Crossing to the Unknown Chapter 11: Unexpected Visitors Chapter 12: A Storm in a Tea Cup Chapter 13: The Trouble with Dwarves Chapter 14: Halflings and Things That Grow Chapter 15: The Halfling’s Decision Chapter 16: The Mountain Pass Chapter 17: A Lucky Escape Chapter 18: When Is a Race Not a Race? Chapter 19: Unconventional Alliances Chapter 20: How Long Is a Tunnel? Chapter 21: A Friendly Warning Chapter 22: Rain, Deer and Journeys Chapter 23: An Orc of a Different Breed Chapter 24: A Crisis Averted Chapter 25: The Coup Chapter 26: The Challenge Chapter 27: Weddings, Partings and Homeward Bound Chapter 28: Dwarves, Orcs and Viehu… Oh My! Chapter 29: Old Friends, Babies and Halflings Chapter 30: How to Trap a Dwarf Chapter 31: A Home for Orcs Who Aren’t Orcs! Chapter 32: The Orcs Finally Arrive Chapter 33: Training, Battles and Barracks Chapter 34: Ships in the Night Chapter 35: ‘They’ Attack Chapter 36: That Which Is Left
About the Author

The author
A. A. Duron is a middle-aged, disabled woman who is into many styles of fantasy novels and wishes to acknowledge J. R. R. Tolkien for his inspiration.
Dedication
In memory of Susie, a special lady and good friend, who inspired me to finish this story when I was struggling and who sadly passed away in 2013.
A big thank you to Tolkien for creating Middle Earth, and his son for further elaborating upon it. Without my love for the amazing and rich lands he created, I would never have been inspired to dream up my own. Thank you for a lifetime of dreams.
Copyright Information
Copyright © A. A. Duron (2019)
The right of A. A. Duron to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781788480277 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781788480284 (Hardback)
ISBN 9781528944748 (E-Book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2019)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Acknowledgements
To my friends; family; and carer, Rick Brand, for help in the arduous pursuit of writing this novel and research that he did and ideas he advised me on.
Synopsis
With Humans now on the brink of extinction their Guardian, in desperation, pushes to garner the assistance they need to survive from their neighbours. While they have remained isolated from all but two of these, the Elves and Dwarves, they now must pray that those remaining will assist them and not just kill them on sight. With this in mind a small group, made up of the children of the Elders, and their Guardian set out on the journey of a life time. As they seem unable to even get along, can they show a united front before the first of their neighbours or will their squabbles bring things to a sudden and deadly halt before it has even begun? They must survive many more trials and dangers on their quest, yet their greatest battle begins once they return home. Even with the assistance they have gained, will they be able to defeat an age-old enemy that has brought an entire race to their knees? Or will this herald the end of everything for everyone?
Tales from the Forgotten Lands: Part 1
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Chapter 1: After the Storm
A lone figure stands motionless looking out over the stormy ocean, their arms hang limply down and one hand still grips a blood-covered sword. The land around is ravaged with craters and pot holes; some are filled with steaming water and others are nothing more than gaping dusty holes and then… there are those that are filled with blood. Blood which is now rapidly beginning to sink into the ground, leaving nothing but stained ground left to say that they were ever there at all. Not a single growing thing can be seen anywhere and eerily, there is not a single body visible to explain all the blood. There are, however, clouds of thick, choking fog that hang in swirling patches over the steaming pools, making it difficult to breathe and see; and everywhere the stench of death hangs like a spectral horror reminding you that here many have just lost their lives.
Storm clouds are beginning to make their way in from the ocean like a final menacing gift from the now missing enemy. The wind then begins to whip across the scorched earth, swirling clouds of dust in its path. The figure pulls its cloak more firmly around itself, while its focus never wavers from the ocean where it watches the last of the vessels, if you can call them such, slowly disappearing over the distant horizon. A flash of lightning rips across the black foreboding sky, closely followed by a deafening crack of thunder, which pierces the silence, like a knife though flesh. This acts as a warning and almost the second the thunder has begun to fade, the rain begins to fall, steadily at first then it quickly turns into a torrential downpour. It starts to quickly quench the parched earth and rapidly washes away the last remnants of blood. The figure turns from its lonely vigil and slowly, as only one who feels defeated would, walks towards a huge stone wall. This wall stretches as far as the eye can see in both directions and it is scarred by scorch marks and pitted with gaping holes of various sizes. While none have managed to penetrate all the way through the wall, due to its exceptionally thick build, they do, however, have the look of dark foreboding caverns.
The figure wipes its sword clean with the bottom edge of its cloak before sheathing it and continues on towards the huge metal gate. This gate is dented and buckled in places yet it still stands firmly and resolutely in place. The dents appear to be slowly vanishing as the door returns to its solid sleek appearance as if nothing has happened and gives the first clue to the magic held within. At the top of the wall on each side of the gate, there are tall guard towers providing long distant views out over the ocean. As it approaches the gate and waves a gloved hand… again by magic… the gate begins to swing open, confirming that the gate has some kind of spell upon it. Pulling the hood of the cape more firmly over itself, as the rain turns into a deluge, it passes through the gate and as soon as it is through, it once again waves its hand and a loud clang sounds as the gate slams firmly shut. Letting out a deeply sad sigh, it continues to walk away from the wall. The dusty barren land slowly gives way to lush grassland and the fields of different crops come into view. Ignoring these, it makes its way up a large hill and here, pauses for a moment and glances down; nestled in the valley below is a large settlement. Though there are few lights glistening out in the dusk marking any signs of life, it knows there are many in the village and all will be waiting for its return. With a slight shiver, knowing what is ahead, it makes its way down towards to town.
A bright glimmering light is visible in the window of the very first stone cottage and as the figure approaches, the door opens and a grey-haired, withered old man steps outside. His sad eyes watch as it draws nearer and when it is close enough he asks, in a sad, defeated-sounding voice, “Again! Only you survived? They took them all?” It nods slowly and heads inside as he follows and closes the door firmly behind them.
Moving over to the stove where a kettle gently whistles, he begins to prepare two drinks. The figure slips off its cloak to reveal an attractive though short human female. Her long red hair reaches right to the bottom of her back and threads of pure silver run through its length, like silver snakes which glisten and seems to move in the firelight. Her eyes are of an icy blue tinged with silver flecks; while the pupils themselves are not completely round, they are slightly elongated top to bottom, similar to a reptilian eye; and her skin is of a very pale colour which also has a slight silver hue to it and these give her a ghostly and strangely exotic presence. While she is definitely of a muscular build, she still retains some certain definite female qualities which are still obvious, even under the metal and leather armour she wears. Yet for all this, due mostly to her height, she has the appearance of a fragile and vulnerable woman, until you look into her eyes. These are the eyes of one who has seen more than their fair share of death; a warrior’s eyes.
While the old man carries the drinks over to the table, which sits in the centre of the room, she continues to remove the armour, leaving only the linen trousers and tunic beneath. With a nod to each other they settle down, at the table, across from one other.
As he takes a sip of his drink and glances over, shaking his head, he asks quietly, “I take it there were many of them this time… Cwynthalyn?”
Hanging her head for a moment, she looks over at him and studying him intently, her eyes narrow as she replies in a voice full of venom and hatred, “This was the worst I’ve ever known, and they came in great force, taking everyone. If they come again within the nex