Zachary Jennings – författare

Betrayal. Suffering. Helplessness. The warm continent does little to shelter from the cold feeling down from the Council Tower. Those that left in the night and arrived in the morning may not shake off the cold from the journey. They shall need to take comfort in uncertainty and fellowship of their fellow man. Soon plans come to fruition and conflicts stand center stage. Those that take part and those that watch bind together in onslaught of the truth. A light''s embrace shall contain a shadowed warning but none will take heed. A war, a war of souls, souls yearning for power and greatness and of triumph and victory. Events during the course of this story lay groundwork for the conclusions of the next. Strung together by the flesh and blood of the characters drawn to the burning comfort of the fire. The conclusion stands as an illusions to the sands of time and soon words echo in ancient tongue. They shall give praise where none should. May our heroes stand strong in death.

For the mercenary group employed by the city of Jenaut, Demons seem to remain as the only great threat they would ever see. Five years and the burden of life begin to set and stress bonds. Yet, a lone power sits upon the horizon and grows ever increasingly hostile towards them. A tense anger carried on the air in whispers and remains on the tips of tongues. A constricting and fearful power, it seems the mercenaries stand powerless before it. Aid comes from places unexpected and emerges from shadows of nightmares only to disappear when they turn. Shortly, they begin to understand that Sylsteruin, their world, contains more frightening entities than they ever could dream. One such entity, watching with a growing hunger, begins to question the very foundations the Gods set forth as the world tips closer to war between Summoners, heralds of Gods. Will they find themselves lost in the maws of creatures mad? Will they change the words as Fate reads them? She cannot know, no one can know.

A circle broken and laid at your feet, accident, perhaps? A part suspects the circle broken intentionally to represent a broken trust. No sooner than the word normal escapes lips, a new threat takes its place. An evil fog covers the world, slowly taking shape and grasping for small amounts of power it can find. New bonds mend and new hostilities break with no end in sight. A broken path appears on the edge of our heroes minds but they will not travel down unfamiliar territory. Broken. The word keeps repeating, broken. A broken shield tarnished by lies and tempered in secret remains in the hands of the future crown. A power long believed lost returns to take what it claimed by right thru the warmth of gold. Words stop writing and the pages grow fewer with each turn.