Voyage of the Mourning Dawn

Начало книги

It was a thing of beauty.

Tristam Xain carefully held the small glass sphere between two fingers and stared into its depths. Within the sphere floated a tiny model of a silver airship, a sleek vehicle surrounded by a metal ring. Tristam tapped the side of the glass with one finger and spoke the ship’s name.

“Kenshi Zhann,” he whispered.

Small particles of shimmering blue snow began to swirl within the sphere. The metal ring ignited a brilliant purple, like the pure elemental fire that surrounded a true airship. The overall image resembled a ship flying through a winter storm, a tiny replica of the same ship where Tristam dwelled. The light from the sphere suffused the smoky air in Tristam’s improvised laboratory, casting the small cabin in a soft blue glow.

“Remarkable,” Omax said. The warforged stood at the door of Tristam’s tiny cabin. The enormous metal warrior looked down at the fragile trinket. His pale blue eyes shone in their adamantine mask, illuminated by the same magic that fluttered through the sphere.

Читать дальше →