Grieved I grows my hand far more accustomed to holding a blade rather than a quill. Stand my brothers and sisters and I in the darkness of a world at war. Reigns now lament and stout-hearted purpose in our hearts, the clash of blades in the halls, the splash of blood on the stones. In spare breathing spaces between one battle and the next, pen I this tale by oil lamp and moonlight. Win must we, mortal and immortal, if our lands and peoples are not to be cast into ever-lasting night.
So begins the first volume of the epic fantasy series, The Storm Chronicles.
