By Missouri Dalton
Within the cursed urban of Var Eldore, perched on a mountaintop surrounded by way of a frigid swamp, the rain by no means stops. Former excitement slave Myr lives in hiding, attempting to remain a step prior to his captor. yet there’s extra to Myr than he realizes, and future has different plans for him. quickly, he counts infantrymen, spies, nobles, and wizards between his allies. Their objective is to oppose the king and those that perpetuate slavery, and struggle for the liberty in their land. As they discover secrets and techniques and conspiracies, every one extra tangled than the final, Myr additionally discovers he has specified skills to assist their cause—the Redeemers.
As the power of the Redeemers grows, so does the variety of enemies they have to face. every one member in their alliance has his or her personal demons to conflict, and Myr needs to confront the reality approximately himself and develop into the chief they wish. along his lover Ryall and the folks who've develop into his family—as good as a few not going friends—Myr and the Redeemers needs to organize for struggle. in the event that they fall, town within the rain will keep on with.
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Extra resources for A Curse on the Mountain
Get-t-t-t back in your seat,” he stuttered. Misha waved him away. “I need to borrow Sasha for a moment, Professor. ” “I suppose…,” Bartholomew said, glaring at his unruly but talented young student. ” “Of course. ” Misha took hold of her shoulder and led her into the hall. ” she asked. She practically bounced in excitement. Her short feathery hair was the same shade of red as her uncle’s, but her blue eyes were warmer. “Calm down, Sasha. I need you to run a message to Durrik of Gregion. I need him here as soon as possible.
BARD SET down his stylus, the last rune complete. He rubbed the finish oil into the leather of the glove. The runes glowed bright, and once the light faded away, the runes had disappeared. Bard picked up the box the mate lay in and put them together. Bard whistled softly, pleased with his work. ” Durrik asked from the doorway. Bard turned around and flashed a smile. A pencil was stuck through the tail of his hair. “Yes. ” Durrik smiled and swept into the room. His gloves were worn, the magic dying.
The mountain’s people stared up in surprise and awe. The people wondered at the sun. Were the gods taking heed of the curse at last? At the lowest edge of the city, two riders made their way to the gates. Wind blew the scent of the sunlit plains, dry and dusty, up the path and through the lower city, shoving the reek of unwashed flesh and rot from the slave pens. That smell was never gone for long. It was thicker, heavier than any scent ought to be, clinging like grease to the streets. The male rider wrinkled his nose; the girl, Sasha, did not seem to notice the smell.