“There it is.” The strong, proud walls of the De’Arnise keep jutted out of valley, a silent stone warden overlooking a sea of ripe, golden grain. From this far away the main castle seemed small, almost overwhelmed by the press and crowd of surrounding farmland. Here and there were tiny specks of movement: peasants and…

It was a twelve-hour journey by foot to Athkatla: they made it in five, thanks to two fresh geldings and Imoen’s judicious use of haste. They reached the city gates just as the last sliver of sun disappeared behind the horizon. The long shadows of evening melded into a single swath of omnipresent darkness as…

Darkness. The stale scent of dust and cold stone walls, undercut by the subtle rankness of age-old death. Rats chittered in the blackness, scurrying away from the intruders in their quiet domain. The rasping click of tiny claws echoed through the tombs. It was exactly as she remembered it, down to the decaying brickwork and…

“…into the company of his father and forefather before him. For as Sir Ilvastarr leaves this world, he joins another: one where battles are fought not by sinew but by spirit, and where his courage and devotion will serve to strengthen us all.” The Temple of Helm was oddly quiet. Even during normal services, there…

Imoen had seen a lot of forests in her day, and this was certainly no forest. It had some superficial similarities: the tall, densely packed trees that blocked out most of the sunlight; the musty, shadowy undergrowth that was almost eerily bare of grass and shrubbery. But these were towering verdant giants, not trees; the…