Betrovia (The first of three of the series Land of Betrovia)
# Betrovia (The first of three of the series Land of Betrovia) best selction# Betrovia (The first of three of the series Land of Betrovia) You Here! Best Offers Today!
Product Description What can a man expect from his Creator after losing his wife to a long, debilitating illness and nearly losing his only sibling to a war injury? And how about being challenged to pursue a new career path, not once, not twice but three times? And then there's the political, religious and economic upheavals of the region in which he resides. Patrik Veillein, along with his wife Dalneia, turn away from the comforts of the village of his birth to help his uncle manage a road-side inn many miles from their village. And before he even gets a handle on that new job, the uncle suddenly dies! If he had stayed where he was born, he could have become a successful hunter, fur trapper, and quite possibly a successful artist. Moving to the Lonely Fox Inn meant leaving everything that was comfortable and predictable. Living in the Lonely Fox Inn meant coming into contact with boisterous traveling salesmen, surly soldiers and mercenaries, and even an adventurer or two. But, it also meant facing disappointment, disillusionment and even disaster. Excerpt: The lightning illuminated a young hunter turned fledgling soldier. He stood a few yards away from the Haarigoian hulk who pointed a massive spear in his general direction, and every Betrovian soldier heard his crude name-calling above the driving rain. Franck squinted to notice that Ulek was clad in thick but possibly impervious armor while the relatively slightly smaller soldier wore only thin leather and cloth. He did, however, sport a three-foot long, double-edged blade and he pointed it directly at the giant's head. The gray-bearded and portly merchant couldn't hear what the young man was saying to his enemy since he faced west. The rain pelted and drenched soldier, officer and traveler but framed a scene that would become legendary. The duel lasted only a few minutes: the jab of an eight-foot spear, the slash of a shiny blade, another unsuccessful stab and a few more wields of the sword. Then, what Franck would later refer to as "the leap of a Knaesin snow wolf," Ilead suddenly ran, covering the distance between himself and Ulek in an instant. Leaping into the air from his right foot and, with borrowed sword in hand and arched directly behind his left shoulder, he separated the brute's horrific head from his well-armored torso. The head landed at Ilead's feet, splashing into a puddle. His enormous, headless form fell backwards with a resounding thud. With sword in his left hand, the youngest son of a Lycentian vendor reached into the puddle with his other hand and held up the hairy head of his victim. A cheer arose spontaneously from the east side of the valley. On the west side, the Haarigoians, who had been loudly vociferous in support of their hero, slowly backed away from their positions. "Betrovian men of valor!" Jarad bellowed. "This is our time! This is your destiny! Pick up your swords and bows! Let not this miracle of the Creator pass without action! Attack!" Product Description What can a man expect from his Creator after losing his wife to a long, debilitating illness and nearly losing his only sibling to a war injury? And how about being challenged to pursue a new career path, not once, not twice but three times? And then there's the political, religious and economic upheavals of the region in which he resides. Patrik Veillein, along with his wife Dalneia, turn away from the comforts of the village of his birth to help his uncle manage a road-side inn many miles from their village. And before he even gets a handle on that new job, the uncle suddenly dies! If he had stayed where he was born, he could have become a successful hunter, fur trapper, and quite possibly a successful artist. Moving to the Lonely Fox Inn meant leaving everything that was comfortable and predictable. Living in the Lonely Fox Inn meant coming into contact with boisterous traveling salesmen, surly soldiers and mercenaries, and even an adventurer or two. But, it also meant facing disappointment, disillusionment and even disaster. Excerpt: The lightning illuminated a young hunter turned fledgling soldier. He stood a few yards away from the Haarigoian hulk who pointed a massive spear in his general direction, and every Betrovian soldier heard his crude name-calling above the driving rain. Franck squinted to notice that Ulek was clad in thick but possibly impervious armor while the relatively slightly smaller soldier wore only thin leather and cloth. He did, however, sport a three-foot long, double-edged blade and he pointed it directly at the giant?Ђ™s head. The gray-bearded and portly merchant couldn't hear what the young man was saying to his enemy since he faced west. The rain pelted and drenched soldier, officer and traveler but framed a scene that would become legendary. The duel lasted only a few minutes: the jab of an eight-foot spear, the slash of a shiny blade, another unsuccessful stab and a few more wields of the sword. Then, what Franck would later refer to as "the leap of a Knaesin snow wolf," Ilead suddenly ran, covering the distance between himself and Ulek in an instant. Leaping into the air from his right foot and, with borrowed sword in hand and arched directly behind his left shoulder, he separated the brute?Ђ™s horrific head from his well-armored torso. The head landed at Ilead's feet, splashing into a puddle. His enormous, headless form fell backwards with a resounding thud. With sword in his left hand, the youngest son of a Lycentian vendor reached into the puddle with his other hand and held up the hairy head of his victim. A cheer arose spontaneously from the east side of the valley. On the west side, the Haarigoians, who had been loudly vociferous in support of their hero, slowly backed away from their positions. "Betrovian men of valor!" Jarad bellowed. "This is our time! This is your destiny! Pick up your swords and bows! Let not this miracle of the Creator pass without action! Attack!"...
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