Spotlight: The Heroes of Dae’Run by Curtiss Robinson

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**Blurb**
The days are dark and terrifying for the defending forces of the Alliance, a steadfast coalition of elves, dwarves, gnomes and humans. Yet dual lights of hope spring from the lush forests of Celes’tia… Rosabela, an elven shapeshifter and healer, and her twin brother Wavren, a hunter and beastmaster, leave their home to join the Protectors of the Vale, an elite band of heroes who are the world’s best defense against the dark forces. Treacherous infiltrators hinder preparations for the approaching conflict as the enemy draws ever nearer. Rosabela and Wavren will need every ounce of their cunning, courage and skill to fight for the freedom of all as blades clash, arrows fly and magic shatters the air.

 

***Excerpt***

Just as he was preparing to meld into the darkness himself, a voice called out in poor, but understandable, common: “Wel-come to For’stedge, ci-ty of the orcs,” the voice called loudly. You have walk-ed right in-to our trap.” Captain Helio froze and scanned the area with his fine night vision. He saw no one, which was inexplicable given the nature of elven sight. He knew he was exposed, but his men were not. They would cover him at all costs, so he dared to call out to the orc. “You say we have walked into your trap, but I see no warriors. I think you are foolishly all alone, but I admire your courage. Come out and settle this in the open; settle this according to the code of honor the orcs claim to live by.” Captain Helio was scanning the streets carefully and still saw no one. He knew the entire Dae’gon Alliance Army was soon to arrive. He held his position, wondering if the orc would in fact show himself. He decided to move out of sight just in case. As he silently became one with the shadows, he carefully drew his wickedly curved polearm from its strap on his back. He crept forward a few steps and felt a tiny, almost imperceptible, breeze across the back of his neck. He knew he was no longer alone, but before he could react, a massive arm came in from behind, and searing pain shot through his back. As he looked down, he could see the tip of his attacker’s sword push through his fine armor. A voice whispered in poor common, “The war-ri-or code of hon-or is not my way. I am Night-shade, mas-ter of shadows.

http://www.amazon.com/Protect…/dp/B00IPSO9EC/ref=sr_1_1…

**Bio**
Curtiss Robinson (1970-Present) was born in Key West, Florida, grew up in South Carolina, and joined the US Army in 1989. For twenty years he served in Ft. Bragg, NC, Schofield Barracks, HI, Ft. Bliss, TX and returned to work in Charleston, SCwith the SC Army National Guard. During his second combat tour (OEF 2007) he wrote his first adventure novel, “Protectors of the Vale”, which mirrored the successes and failures of his PMT team in Afghanistan. In 2009, wrote “Defenders of Griffon’s Peak” which further detailed the adventuers of his sword weilding and spell casting fantasy characters. Curtiss is a lifelong martial artist and RPG enthusiast which contributes greatly to his combat scenes and vivid imagery but it is love for epic heroes and tales of legend that fuel his love of writing.
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*****Blurb****
Continuing The Heroes of Dae’Run Series with Volume 2

The stalwart city of men takes up the fight against the Bloodcrest Forces in Defenders of Griffon’s Peak as the orcs of Dek’Thal build alliances with the worst of mankind…the fearsome assassin’s guild and a deadly pack of were-wolves. Ever in opposition, the Protectors of the Vale venture from the Far West to unite with the heroes of the Far East to defy the evil Bloodcrest Forces. Vlaad-the last human defender and champion of Griffon’s Peak and his beloved Theila, a warlock of dark magic, leave their home to hunt down the orc leader Gorka Darkstorm and put an end to his evil plans. Cunning assassins lie in wait at every turn, deadly were-wolves prowl through the night, and the worst fears imaginable stand between the heroes and their duty. Vlaad and Theila will need more than skill with a sword and sorcerous might to fight the evil looming before them as shields splinter, blood flies, and magic lights up the sky.

*****Excerpt*****

Vlaad was hammering away, as usual, when the smithy’s doorway became filled with a giant of a man. Vlaad stopped his work and turned to the visitor, noticing that the towering warrior stood nearly a foot taller than he.

“Hello friend and welcome to my shop. How may I be of service?” Vlaad asked pleasantly.

In a strange dialect that was a combination of unusually rolling consonants and dulled vowels the huge warrior said, “Vell met young mon, I ahm Andar Razamun of ze ‘interlandz and I ahm in need of repairz from many battlez. Can zhou ‘elp me?”

Vlaad was a little confused by the foreign accent. He thought the man said that his name was Andar and that he was from the Hinterlands. He just couldn’t be sure, but curiosity compelled him to smile and nod in response.

Andar said, “Bery vell. I can pay zhou now two gol’ coinz to make ze repairz. Do ve haf a dealz?”

The young smith wiped his palms off on his leather apron and extended his well-calloused hand to the warrior and said, “I will work on your armor, but you need only pay if you are satisfied with my services. I would like to hear about your adventures as a down payment if you would honor me with a few stories.”

Andar looked piercingly at the youth as if measuring him up. The young man stood barely six feet tall and was strong, but not unusually so. He had thick, dark eyebrows and a full goatee but had shaved his head completely bald like the elite guard of Griffon’s Peak. It wasn’t his physical appearance that caught Andar’s attention. He saw strength and discipline in the blacksmith’s deep brown eyes and sensed both honor and integrity within him like the knights of ancient legend. He asked, “Are zhou so zertain zhat I vill pay vhen ze verk is done? I ahm a stran-ger ‘ere and un-accustomed to such trust vrom utherz.”

Vlaad smiled as he ciphered through the thick accent. He was pretty sure the warrior asked if he was certain that the big man would pay after the work was complete, since he was a stranger that others did not usually trust. He nodded and repeated a phrase his O’ma had often said throughout the years: “Everyone pays sooner or later. It is only a matter of time. This is the law of justice to which we are all bound.”

The larger man thought for a moment and then laughed a deep and hearty laugh. He reached out and grasped the waiting hand Vlaad still held out to him. He shook it eagerly. Andar immediately noticed that although his hand dwarfed the blacksmith’s, there was great strength in Vlaad’s grip and the dark piercing eyes that he looked into were filled with fire and strength as well. This simple blacksmith was more than he appeared. He was ironically similar to the unshaped and untempered steel the blacksmith forged—ready to be formed into a keen and valuable blade. Andar Razamun was intrigued. He said, “I ‘ave ze story for zhou but it iz not my own adventure. It is ze legend of ze Zhield Vorrior.”

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Posted on June 19, 2014, in Spotlight, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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