A Tide of Shadows (The Chronicles of Llars Book 1)
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"Tom Bielawski is a bright light in today's dark sea of new writers. His writing gives me hope for the next generation of dreamers. I highly recommend both him and his works." - NYT Bestselling author, Tracy Hickman.
A dark and powerful magic, lost the world for centuries, stirs once more. The Dark Disciples, infamous villains once thought vanquished, have returned.
Carym of Hyrum, accused murderer, is freed from captivity by a band of criminals. To repay the debt he must undertake a quest to find the mythical Everpool and bring back a vial of its enchanted water.
Minions of a dark god hunt Carym, for he is the key to unlocking a power greater than their own. If they cannot turn him, they will destroy him.
This is the 5th edition. The 4th edition of this book was mistakenly uploaded in an unedited state, two times! My sincerest apologies to those affected by this error. Pleas contact me on FB page (TheChroniclesofLlars) and I will gladly send you a free book.
from the tall building flanking the alley did not allow the autumn sun’s warming light to reach down to the floor and the pair were getting cold. Zach stood, and brushed himself off. He helped his friend to his feet and the two worked their way down the alley, trying as best as they could to avoid piles of refuse and waste. “How did you know that there was a hidden alley here?” “A benefit of membership in the Spiders,” Zach said, stopping before a door. “I know where all of the secret alleys
think of a plan. I will free them or die trying, he mused grimly. They will rue the day they trained Cklathmen to fight like Arnathians! Carym moved swiftly and silently through the smoke and the damp fog, hiding behind the rubble of ruined homes. He understood the Arnathian military language and could hear the guardsmen discussing their plans. They were going to travel south on the Imperial Highway to meet up with a larger caravan, before continuing on to the slave auctions on the other side of
see,” she said placidly. “There is but one small matter to attend, my lord.” “Very well.” Shalthazar handed the demoness a pouch containing something he knew she would value very highly. Even though he could destroy this demoness as he did the pit-demon, such an endeavor would be far more dangerous and would not serve his purposes. The demoness opened the silky black pouch and her face split into a wicked grin. Inside the pouch was a collection of things beloved to this demoness who thrived
back his emotional balance. “Welcome, Prophet-General! Ilian Nah has blessed us with your arrival. The glory of our land is at hand!” The Sul turned and faced the visitors to his court seated in the rows of high backed chairs near the entrance. Shalthazar saw that among them were minor nobles and commoners, Keneerie and humans, military men and those who were clearly civilian. The one thing that they all had in common was not lost on the dark elf: zeal. All of these people were devoted to their
feed on the two-legs, satiating their thirst on the blood of the upright walkers. Her hackles rose, her ears lay back and she padded along low to the ground, saliva dripping in anticipation of the kill. Fresh blood soon, she thought. The others heard. Hungry, must strike. The others did not respond. To disagree with the pack leader meant death in a most unpleasant way. This pack leader was very strong as each had found out to one degree or another, thus confirming her status. A thought drifted