Аннотация
Jess Lebow
Master of Chains
Prelude
1359dr
Young Lord Purdun stepped around a ruined tombstone and pulled his sword from its sheath.
"Quiet now," Purdun said.
"What is this place?" asked Menrick.
"From the looks of it, I'd say it's the entrance to a family tomb." Purdun pushed aside the dried, thorny vines covering the facade of the stone building with the tip of his blade. The dark, dead plants made a light grinding noise as they slid across the decrepit, withered stone.
"Well, well," said Lord Purdun. "What do we have here?"
Unlike the rest of the tomb, cracked and worn smooth from hundreds of years of rain and the elements, the stone underneath the hanging vines was a slick, polished black that shone like a mirror. Carved into its surface were hundreds of tiny figures. Each of them had been crafted down to the most minute detail.
"Help me clear away the vines so we can get a better look."
Menrick stepped up beside ...
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