Hand of the Hunter: Chosen of Nendawen, Book II
Read Hand of the Hunter: Chosen of Nendawen, Book II Online
Authors: Mark Sehestedt
D
UNGEONS
& D
RAGONS
, D&D, F
ORGOTTEN
R
EALMS
, W
IZARDS OF THE
C
OAST
, and their respective logos are trademarks of Wizards of the Coast LLC in the U.S.A. and other countries.
©2010 Wizards.
C
HOSEN FOR WHAT SHE WAS
Hundreds of ravens looked down on her, their black eyes reflecting the moonlight. Yellow wolves’ eyes watched her from the shadows under the trees. Waiting and hungry, held back only by the will of the antlered thing before her—neither man nor beast, but something far older.
“You are mine, Hweilan. You were always mine.”
F
OR WHAT SHE WANTS
“What is the one thing you desire most?”
“Vengeance,” she said without thinking.
“Truth at last. But know this: The Master is not one to bargain. You do not make demands of the Master of the Hunt. Obey him, or do not. There is no middle ground.”
A
ND FOR WHAT SHE MUST BECOME
“She’s trying to make me into a beast,” said Hweilan. She’d been raised in a household of knights, to whom honor was more precious than life. To them, battle was an art, could even be a sacred act of devotion. To Ashiin, killing seemed a primal instinct, a need, no different than hunger or fear. To Ashiin, being a killer was not a matter of doing, but being, and Hweilan feared that she could never become that.
“She is not.” Gleed turned away from the iron cauldron he had been stirring. “A beast cannot be made, stupid girl. A beast is woken. No. Ashiin is not making you into a beast. She is trying to beat the scared, spoiled little girl out of you so that when the beast does come—and it will; it will—a little of the woman might survive.”
C
HOSEN
OF
N
ENDAWEN
Book I
The Fall of Highwatch
Book II
Hand of the Hunter
Book III
Cry of the Ghost Wolf
December 2011
A
LSO
B
Y
M
ARK
S
EHESTEDT
THE WIZARDS
Frostfell
Slavers stole her son and she would sacrifice everything to get him back. In the uncaring, frozen north, will it be enough?
THE CITADELS
Sentinelspire
With the powers of an archdruid at hand, the mad master of the fortress of Sentinelspire will bring death to more than just his enemies—he will call down doom on all of Faerûn.
Chosen of Nendawen, Book II
Hand of the Hunter
©2010 Wizards of the Coast LLC
All characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or unauthorized use of the material or artwork contained herein is prohibited without the express written permission of Wizards of the Coast LLC.
Published by Wizards of the Coast LLC. F
ORGOTTEN
R
EALMS
, D
UNGEONS
& D
RAGONS
, W
IZARDS OF THE
C
OAST
, and their respective logos are trademarks of Wizards of the Coast LLC in the U.S.A. and other countries.
All Wizards of the Coast characters, and the distinctive likenesses thereof are property of Wizards of the Coast LLC.
Cover art by: Jaime Jones
Map by Robert Lazzaretti
First Printing: December 2010
eISBN: 978-0-7869-5812-2
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v3.1
CKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to Ed Greenwood, for creating such a vast world for the rest of us to play in.
Special thanks to the Cocktail Slippers for streaming their albums on their Myspace page. During many late nights of writing, you were my soundtrack. If the royalty checks are kind, I will buy the albums. Promise. And if I ever save Brooke Shields from drowning, you will be the band playing my birthday party!
And extra special thanks to Erin Evans for being such a great editor, equal parts encouragement and threatening the breaking of fingers. Several of the really cool ideas in the story were Erin’s ideas, and I’ll never tell which are which.
THE
G
IANTSPIRES
C
HAPTER
ONEToril
The Giantspires
N
IGHT CAME QUICKLY TO THE MOUNTAINS, AND
Darric wanted their camp secured by dark. They chose a small valley—little more than a wide spot in the path, really—but it had a swath of trees hugging a cliff wall that would provide shelter from the wind and help to hide the light from their fires. Midsummer though it was, they were in the mountains west of Narfell, and a bone-chilling cold settled in with the dark. After picketing the horses near the cliff wall, those men not on watch huddled in their blankets close to the fires.