Ghaelya drew her broadsword, took a deep breath and charged the closed door, grinning at the crack of the latch. You remember it very well. Briefly, in the twinkling light of the stars, Ghaelya caught sight of the Akanapeaks to the west, before the trees obscured their slopes once again. The pacing is just to slow and it left me with the feeling of not wanting to read it. They travel through the forest of the Rut that was once on ocean before the plague. The Keepers were all dead as far as Uthalion knew, leaving their underpaid mercenaries to clean up the mess.
She comes across a half-elf named Brindani, who tells her that he knows someone who could help her find and save her sister. The unnatural storm was the least of their worries now. Prepared to repay the coming wound with steel, she gasped as the beast turned away and charged instead at the battle-ready Vaasurri. The night closed in around them like a shroud, their footsteps echoing off the close trees and the canopy overhead as if the killoren led them underground instead of through a forest. I would recommend it to those who enjoy horror fantasy. It turned toward them and raised its head; moonlight trailed across its pale gray fur. He eyed the trees, searching for Vaasurri among the leaves, though he suspected the killoren was still busy drawing the howling beasts away from the grove.
There were no words or any melody he could describe, but just the feel of the sound made him want to possess it for his own. The light barely lit the grove but was bright enough to be spotted and, she assumed, followed through the dark. He hated the weapon and the broken promise he saw in its finely sharpened edge. Davis does do a great job at describing things. The humming stopped, and Ghaelya froze in place.
She refused to imagine her sister as just a body waiting to be found; Furious at the thought, she kicked out, splintering the leg of a bedside chair. As she stood in the center of the room, glaring at him, he could almost hear the distant murmur of singing. Thunderous noises echoed through the depths from unnatural throats. The floating mountains sure catch the eye but other than that it's a little to dark and bland. They travel through the forest of the Rut that was once on ocean before the plague. A group of creatures called The Choir came and kidnapped the sister.
And the only signs that even the most hardened criminals still walk the streets at night are bones. I also appreciated the uniqueness of Davis choice of subgenre in a traditional sword and sorcery arena though there is plenty of action too and the unusual characters and monsters that are part of the Dungeons and Dragons milieu but are not often used. When a genasi girl is kidnapped by these fanatics, her troubled sister must brave the wilds of the Mere-That-Was to save them both from an gruesome fate. But Tessaeril was drawn to them despite all her good sense. Ghaelya appeared falling gracefully through the darkness, her arms outstretched, the pale swirls of energy on her skin burning.
The whisper of the song faded, but the face of her sister pushed forward. There was an intelligence there that made her reassess the danger the creature represented. Placing a finger to his lips, he secured his sword and dagger and jumped into the dark. He ducked away from the window, as if he might hide from the approaching figure and the painful sound of its voice. The characters were interesting, some more than others. A hand fell on his shoulder, and his frayed nerves reacted swiftly, gripping the slender arm in a tight grip as his free hand drew a handspan of blade from its sheath.
The hands swiftly withdrew, and the farmhouse fell apart, dissolving back into the components that had constructed it. The wide jaws fell slack, and the thick neck twisted away limply as Uthalion pushed free of the. His heavy footsteps on the old wood startled the half-elf. Uthalion needed to see Caidris and Tohrepur, to kick the dust, to see the dead, and bury his nightmare once and for all. He turned to the south with a purposeful stride.
With a nimble hop, Brindani was on the porch, swaggering across the steps calmly. The conversation between characters really felt forced. They just felt like a bunch of random people coming together to do something. His lips were dry, his throat ached, and the pain in his stomach was escalating with each step. They opened wide as if to embrace the night sky, their petals pulsing like muscle tissue. The front door had been torn from its hinges long ago.
Brindani was thrown backward by the powerful sound, its waves rippling through the air. Instinct told her only that rain was on the waymaybe in a day, perhaps two and she wondered if her intuition might be stronger when the storm came. This was not a typical realms novel to me. Though it slipped away from her wakeful mind, she somehow knew her answer would be forthcoming if sleep did indeed find her. She crawled forward, her curiosity aroused by what appeared to be letters scrawled on the faded wood in dark riist.
The howls of the dreamers left them in peace, the haunting voices of their masters never sought him out. His hooked claws dug into the wall as he turned a black-eyed gaze upon her. He motioned to the retreating human, seeming out of sorts as he followed the guide they had sought. Davis- This is the second book in The Wilds series of stand-alone novels set in the Forgotten Realms universe. Uthalion ate slowly and in silence, the sinuous melody hiding somewhere in his thoughts and taunting him behind the dying cries of the Keepers and honest sellswords.