Snips from Book Two:
Deep down, she knew that Tal thought her actions were foolish, perhaps even insane. In truth, she sometimes questioned her own sanity. The thoughts and impulses that had driven her to make such sacrifices were difficult to explain, even to herself.—Alenia Soulreaper, assassin and skilled archer
Tarakis couldn’t help but roll his eyes again. It was gonna be a long, wet, and miserable journey, made even longer by the fact that he was stuck with a group of individuals who seemed to have the combined social skills of sleeping gargoyles.—Tarakis, half-fiend rouge of Jovian Falls
Valen tensed, his grip tightening on his weapon. He could hear the sounds of an abundance of stomping feet, accompanied by a guttural discord of shouting and yelling. The goblins were approaching, and they were coming fast.—Valen Halen, Warlord of Jwarl Avignon
Makaelah hovered, her wings spread wide as she rained down destruction from on high. Her bow of pure light hummed with energy, loosing arrow after arrow of vibrant purple flame. Each projectile found its mark, leaving smoldering corpses in their wake.—Makaelah, Commander of the Celeyian Armies
Without missing a beat, he flung out his free hand, unleashing a blast of ice that rocketed towards another hapless foe. The soldier’s eyes, wide with terror, were the last things to freeze as his body became a macabre ice sculpture on the battlefield.—Kai’las, Light Fae Prince of Faery
What followed was nothing short of a deadly ballet. Darius and the demigod hammered at each other with punishing blows, their movements a blur of lethal precision. For every sword thrust, there was a perfectly timed block. Each sidestep was met with a vicious kick. The clashing of their steel echoed alongside the riverbed.—Darius Varen, Captain of the Kingsguard of the Northern Kingdom
In a fluid shift, Shadowhawk leaped onto the branch and pulled herself up, her muscles straining with the effort. Reaching for her bow and an arrow from her quiver, she locked eyes with the lone wolf below, its silver orbs gleaming with a ravenous hunger.—Shadowhawk, wild elven ranger of Greenmar
At the peak of power accumulation, Szarzekk unleashed a crackling black beam that struck his enemy squarely in the chest. The man convulsed as the energy engulfed him, his body wracked by the invasive force.—Szarzekk, undead berserker of Under City The bedside table exploded against the far wall. Splinters rained down like sparks from a forge. A chair followed, then the bed itself, each crash punctuating the maelstrom of Arendon’s fury. His wings lashed out, gouging deep furrows in the walls.—Arendon, warrior of Celeya
Her skin was now covered in a mesmerizing pattern of golden-orange fur with bold black stripes, reminiscent of a majestic tiger. The short, sleek coat shimmered with an otherworldly iridescence, rippling over her muscles that seemed to pulse with barely contained power.—Xilton, monk of Saint Chandler’s Monastery
This time, the light that burst from his staff was nearly blinding. It slammed into the fog wall with the force of a battering ram, sending shock waves rippling through the air. For a breathless moment, it seemed as if the spell would succeed—and then, to everyone’s shock, the magical energy rebounded violently.—Airrak, Royal Archmage of the Southern Kingdom
Tarakis couldn’t help but roll his eyes again. It was gonna be a long, wet, and miserable journey, made even longer by the fact that he was stuck with a group of individuals who seemed to have the combined social skills of sleeping gargoyles.—Tarakis, half-fiend rouge of Jovian Falls
Valen tensed, his grip tightening on his weapon. He could hear the sounds of an abundance of stomping feet, accompanied by a guttural discord of shouting and yelling. The goblins were approaching, and they were coming fast.—Valen Halen, Warlord of Jwarl Avignon
Makaelah hovered, her wings spread wide as she rained down destruction from on high. Her bow of pure light hummed with energy, loosing arrow after arrow of vibrant purple flame. Each projectile found its mark, leaving smoldering corpses in their wake.—Makaelah, Commander of the Celeyian Armies
Without missing a beat, he flung out his free hand, unleashing a blast of ice that rocketed towards another hapless foe. The soldier’s eyes, wide with terror, were the last things to freeze as his body became a macabre ice sculpture on the battlefield.—Kai’las, Light Fae Prince of Faery
What followed was nothing short of a deadly ballet. Darius and the demigod hammered at each other with punishing blows, their movements a blur of lethal precision. For every sword thrust, there was a perfectly timed block. Each sidestep was met with a vicious kick. The clashing of their steel echoed alongside the riverbed.—Darius Varen, Captain of the Kingsguard of the Northern Kingdom
In a fluid shift, Shadowhawk leaped onto the branch and pulled herself up, her muscles straining with the effort. Reaching for her bow and an arrow from her quiver, she locked eyes with the lone wolf below, its silver orbs gleaming with a ravenous hunger.—Shadowhawk, wild elven ranger of Greenmar
At the peak of power accumulation, Szarzekk unleashed a crackling black beam that struck his enemy squarely in the chest. The man convulsed as the energy engulfed him, his body wracked by the invasive force.—Szarzekk, undead berserker of Under City The bedside table exploded against the far wall. Splinters rained down like sparks from a forge. A chair followed, then the bed itself, each crash punctuating the maelstrom of Arendon’s fury. His wings lashed out, gouging deep furrows in the walls.—Arendon, warrior of Celeya
Her skin was now covered in a mesmerizing pattern of golden-orange fur with bold black stripes, reminiscent of a majestic tiger. The short, sleek coat shimmered with an otherworldly iridescence, rippling over her muscles that seemed to pulse with barely contained power.—Xilton, monk of Saint Chandler’s Monastery
This time, the light that burst from his staff was nearly blinding. It slammed into the fog wall with the force of a battering ram, sending shock waves rippling through the air. For a breathless moment, it seemed as if the spell would succeed—and then, to everyone’s shock, the magical energy rebounded violently.—Airrak, Royal Archmage of the Southern Kingdom