Oron Amular, #1
The news goes far and wide. The Keeper of the Mountain has broken his long silence. Oron Amular, home of the fabled League of Wizardry, had been lost to mortal memory, but suddenly the legends are awakening again. Lords and princes, heroes and wanderers, all have felt the call of the Mountain. Curillian, the restless king of Maristonia, receives an invitation that cannot be ignored, knowing that invitations have also gone to his allies and adversaries alike. A Tournament is to be held, the like of which has never been heard of. The contestants can only guess at the purposes of the Keeper; all they know is that the prize on offer is Power Unimaginable. All are eager to claim the riches of a lost ancient world, but who can even find the Mountain, let alone survive what awaits them there? When the maps are blank and the loremasters at a loss, another way must be found. Such is the hour when a mysterious stranger crosses the threshold of Maristonia’s capital, someone with a call of their own to answer.
The rider wore no obvious mark or emblem. She was dressed in black with silver edgings and there seemed to be strange devices or runes on her cloak that only showed as the light directly caught them. She wore a silver helm with great purple plumes flowing back from it and her visor was down so that her face was hidden. Her belt was studded with gems and from it hung both an ornate scabbard and a satchel, which both bore the symbol of a great six-pointed star with burning torches about it, and flaming runes conveying some strange motto. She was going at a mighty speed, the flagstones of the road sparking as her horse’s shoes struck them. The road wound around the feet of a great hill which overlooked the city, before leading down to Mariston itself. As she rounded the hill the rider cast the token into the air, watching over her shoulder as the vision sprang out of it to fill the sky. That was all she had been bidden to do. Here, in this exact spot. She hoped the recipient was watching, or her master would be displeased. But she had other business too, so she left the enchantment to work itself and kept spurring on towards the city.
She rode at breakneck pace up the road. Heedless of the people who leapt out of her way, she galloped all the way to the great outer walls of the armist capital. Others like her had ridden the length and breadth of Ciroken and Ebinnin to every major city in every realm. They had gone to Kalator and Rohandur in the north; to the Silver City of elven Ithrill; to the halls of all the major Clan-lords in Aranar; to Paeyeir, the ancient citadel of the elves in Kalimar; to Carthak, the deep and forgotten citadel of the dwarves; and even to the extreme south where dwelt roving sun-darkened tribes. It had fallen to her to come to the capital city of Maristonia and deliver not one but two messages.
Thank you, Michael J. Harvey and Love Books Tours
About the author
Michael J. Harvey is a fantasy novelist with a taste for the epic. Astrom is the world that he has created and Oron Amular is the first of the novels to be set there. Michael loves writing adventure stories and draws his inspiration from history and historical fiction as well as from the world of fantasy. Michael loves to travel and has two degrees in history. Michael lives with his wife and two boys in Cambridgeshire, England.
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