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About This Book
There is a place where mighty warriors cut their bloody way down the glory road in search of treasure, where dragons and water sprites fight vampires and elementals for the right to devour their flesh, and scheming kings bribe wizards and priests to stop the hero's march. That place has a name… Reven.
Inspired by Robert E. Howard's Conan and Fritz Leiber's Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser, the Master of Post-Apocalyptic Military Sci-Fi, William Alan Webb, brings us the next great sword and sorcery series! Come with him now to a world of endless possibilities and nameless dangers, where intrepid men and women seek their destinies in a time of sharp steel and high adventure!
The shouts of battle faded as the men who made them cried and died. Echoes of steel on steel disappeared into the murky depths of the deep valley, below steep slopes, and the carnage of war lay scattered across snow-clad fields. The copper scent of blood tainted the wind. Here and there, frozen hands reached skyward, as if in supplication to their gods.
The bearskin-clad bodies of the Vorge war party lay in heaps around the corpses of four Yetondi, the race of whitefurred giants who lived in the high mountains along the northern border of Corland. The Yetondi had stolen Vorge livestock and such thievery couldn't go unanswered. Of the thirty Vorge who'd trudged into the mountains three days earlier, and the six Yetondi who'd intercepted them, only two of each fought on.
Inspired by Robert E. Howard's Conan and Fritz Leiber's Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser, the Master of Post-Apocalyptic Military Sci-Fi, William Alan Webb, brings us the next great sword and sorcery series! Come with him now to a world of endless possibilities and nameless dangers, where intrepid men and women seek their destinies in a time of sharp steel and high adventure!
The shouts of battle faded as the men who made them cried and died. Echoes of steel on steel disappeared into the murky depths of the deep valley, below steep slopes, and the carnage of war lay scattered across snow-clad fields. The copper scent of blood tainted the wind. Here and there, frozen hands reached skyward, as if in supplication to their gods.
The bearskin-clad bodies of the Vorge war party lay in heaps around the corpses of four Yetondi, the race of whitefurred giants who lived in the high mountains along the northern border of Corland. The Yetondi had stolen Vorge livestock and such thievery couldn't go unanswered. Of the thirty Vorge who'd trudged into the mountains three days earlier, and the six Yetondi who'd intercepted them, only two of each fought on.
