Forge of the Mindslayers: Eberron: Blade of the Flame, Book 2
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Living in the war-ravaged realm of Eberron, assassin-turned-priest Diran Bastiaan and his half-orc sidekick, Ghaji, make an unlikely pair. One looks like the stuff of nightmares, while the other is "a conduit through which the holy force of Good could work its will in the physical world." Together, they have traveled throughout the archipelagic Lhazaar Principalities sharing numerous wild adventures, but none were as dangerous as the one they currently face.
When a gang of bloodthirsty pirates kidnaps Diran's former lover (a beautiful ex-mercenary killer named Makala), the priest of the Silver Flame and his half-breed wingman vow to get her - and countless other abductees - back no matter what the cost. But the seafaring raiders are no ordinary criminals; they're led by the infamous vampire Onkar, who in turn serves a being unfathomably more evil than himself....
of, so who knows?” “How are you feeling, my friend?” Diran asked. “By defeating Chagai, you’ve had the opportunity to lay an unpleasant part of your past to rest.” “You’d think so, wouldn’t you, but the truth is that I don’t feel much of anything. Killing Chagai didn’t bring back any of the people we killed during the time we served together, and I’d put our association behind me the day I left him lying wounded on a field in the Eldeen Reaches. The world’s a better place with him gone, though,
scarcely matter if his targets weren’t alive in the first place. One zombie he could handle by deftly slicing through undead muscles and tendons until the creature, though still possessed of its mockery of a life, was unable to move, but more than one zombie came at them now, many, many more. Diran knew that if he and Ghaji were going to make it off Demothi Island alive, he would have to use his mind instead of his blades. Ghaji grunted and Diran watched his friend slice through the torsos of
front of Galharath’s vest. Solus thought this detail was important, but he wasn’t sure why. “You may not know me now, but you knew me once,” Galharath said, “before your memories were taken from you.” “My memories … taken?” “You still retain a few faint echoes of memory, the merest scraps of the knowledge you once possessed. I have some small skill with matters of the mind, and I’ve been working to restore your memories but without success. I have come to realize that your memories aren’t
effort. It felt as if his arm muscles were going to rip free of their bones, but the warforged stumbled, and the hand clutching Diran around the neck sprung open. The black-clad priest fell to the dock and gasped for air. Ghaji feared that his friend’s throat had been crushed, but while he wanted to rush to Diran’s side and tend to him, Ghaji knew he couldn’t. The warforged would remain off-balance for only a second or two. Besides, Diran himself was best equipped to heal whatever injuries he
that was as alluring as it was inhuman and stepped onto the deck of the Zephyr. Makala closed the lid of her resting place. She looked around. “I see we’re in a lagoon of some sort. Are we back in Perhata?” “Close by,” Diran said. “This is one of the Shadow Network’s hidden ports. The lagoon is concealed by an illusion spell that makes it seem as if this area is nothing but desolate shoreline. Yvka brought me here so that I could … let you out.” “Thank you.” For several moments neither of