“We were received by that great merchant and studmaster Cuno in his Villa at Mar, which is only one of his estates but perhaps the grandest. Like other great men of our modern age he did not inherit his power, but instead elected to seize it himself through perseverance and great force of body and mind.”
The King’s mounted dragonslayer proxy did tower over the drones there, abandoned and incapacitated so very long ago by water and mud.
All tagged Fantasy
“We were received by that great merchant and studmaster Cuno in his Villa at Mar, which is only one of his estates but perhaps the grandest. Like other great men of our modern age he did not inherit his power, but instead elected to seize it himself through perseverance and great force of body and mind.”
"Their leader had served as a guard in the city of Mendel, my translator told me, but had been discharged after mauling a rioter during the long eclipse. His fur was less thick than that of the other Molossi in the band - the loud Free Jaw mercenaries and the quiet tribal trackers. It seemed to me that he had something of the street thug about him, the smooth calm of the gutter Hound."
"So it was that Dor Moshash the geometer king came before the she-worm Brigadora of Garm: for she had taken the city and ruled it wisely as queen."
The barks of the Molossi and the shouts of the crowd bring you to the balcony. The object has appeared in the center of the great square, crushing the fountain and its statue of Fate and her Hounds. The air is filled with steam and marble dust.
“It is my belief that the blood of a beast is something like a rememory engine of old, storing every cruelty committed against the animal’s ancestors and reminding it to run from men. I admit to feeling strangely guilty when the schildbok bounded so desperately away from me. To the antelope I was, apparently, surrounded by the ghosts of long-dead hunters.”
"As we forded the Black river, the Tomb City of Nyxa did rise in the distance, carved from the rock of the mountain called Night. It gleamed in the sun to greet us, the fabled Bronze Gate through which the conqueror Tomas Radax could not ride without weeping for all the beauty that would be lost to war. But the gate still stands and is beautiful still. Banners flutter from the old watchtower, melted like a candle by some calamity of a long-forgotten age."
From Wikipedia!