Dragontiarna: Legions by Jonathan Moeller

Author:Jonathan Moeller [Moeller, Jonathan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Ficção Científica E Fantasia, Histórico, Fantasia, Épico
ISBN: 1230003890653
Barnesnoble:
Publisher: Azure Flame Media
Published: 2020-05-11T23:00:00+00:00

14

Ruins

T he news that there was an ancient dark elven ruin buried west of Sinderost was met with consternation in Prince Everard’s council.

Tyrcamber stood with Rilmael, Third, and Selene in the council chamber off the throne room. Everard sat at the head of the round table, his expression solemn. The Dukes of the Empire had gathered around the table, including Duke Faramund Berengar, who held the southern city of Tamisa and had only recently been able to leave Mourdrech. Faramund had married Tyrcamber’s sister Adalhaid since Chilmar had thought to use her as a lever to control Faramund.

It had been one of Chilmar’s rare political miscalculations. Adalhaid detested their father, and she had turned Faramund against the Duke of Chalons. Now Faramund and Chilmar were almost always on opposite sides of matters of contention within the Empire. Yet the dire threat of the Valedictor’s invasion and the power of the Dragon Cult and the Fallen Order loomed larger than the two Dukes’ mutual dislike, and Chilmar and Faramund would both vote for Everard as the Emperor.

Though the two men sat on opposite sides of the table. Possibly to keep distance between them, or maybe to keep an eye on each other.

“You did not know these ruins were here, Guardian?” said Everard.

“I fear not, Prince,” said Rilmael. “I didn’t think there were dark elven ruins within a hundred miles of Sinderost.”

“How could you not?” said Duke Cormarl. He looked baffled. Corswain had been a good friend and a valiant knight, but with the benefit of time, Tyrcamber had realized that his friend had not been all that bright, and Corswain had inherited that from his father. “You are the Guardian. You have been here far longer than mankind.”

“To my regret, my lord Duke, I am not omniscient. Only God can claim that honor,” said Rilmael. A few of the Dukes chuckled.

“Could the Fallen Order have built these ruins themselves during the siege?” said Everard.

“No, lord Prince,” said Third. The Dukes gazed at her. Some of them seemed frightened of Third. Of course, they were frightened of Tyrcamber, too, but he was the youngest son of Duke Chilmar and a former knight of the Order of Embers. He was one of the nobles in a way that Third was not. “I had a brief look around the hall we uncovered. The reliefs referenced a dark elven lord the Guardian said fell thousands of years ago.”

Duke Hulderic of Valstrasia grunted. “You read dark elven, my lady?”

“Yes,” said Third.

“The reliefs said that the ruins had been built by a dark elven lord called the Embalmer,” said Rilmael. “He was one of the Dragon Imperator’s vassals, and he was a potent necromancer. The Embalmer discovered a method of creating powerful undead by dousing corpses in a bath of alchemical salts…”

“Hence the title, I assume,” said Everard.

“The dark elven lords did enjoy their cruel titles,” said Rilmael. “But the Embalmer fell in battle against the cloak elves seven thousand years ago, long before mankind arrived in Sinderost.

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