By Richard A. Knaak
An historic ogre empire threatens cataclysm for all during this new Dragonlance(R) trilogy!
With a dire enemy now seated at the throne of the minotaur empire, the one-handed half-breed ogre Golgren returns to his personal realm at the mainland and makes use of brutal capacity to consolidate his energy and forge not likely alliances. He needs to do something about an elite band of sorcerers, whose magical strategies aren't simply thwarted. those Ogre Titans--led by means of their internal circle, the Black Talon--emerge as his maximum competitors. Golgren's obsession to resurrect the wonderful prior of the ogre race will engulf people and elves, yet may perhaps finally be made up our minds by means of a perilous, capricious god.
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Additional info for Black Talon (Dragonlance: Ogre Titans, Book 1)
Is preventing Teucer’s descendant from landing as Italy’s king beyond my power? Granted, the Fates are opposed. But if so, how was Pallas empowered, Just for the insane crime of a single man, son of Oileus, 40 Ajax, to burn an entire Greek navy and drown all its sailors? Out of the clouds she herself hurled Jupiter’s lightning; she scattered Vessels, her storm winds churned calm seas. And, so much for Ajax, Lungs thunderbolted, he vomited ﬁre: she dispatched a tornado, Whirled him away as he died and impaled him upon a sharp 45 reef rock.
460 Look! Priam’s here. Even here great deeds win due recognition, Human events stir tears; what dies has the power to move minds. Cast oﬀ fear! ’ This said, he feasted his soul on the ghostly ﬁgures before him, Groaning a great deal, bedewing his face with a river of weeping, 465 Constantly seeing the ﬁghters circling Troy in their battles: Greeks here, routed and hotly pursued by the young Trojan soldiers, Phrygians there, pressed hard from his chariot by crested Achilles. Not far away, he can see (and recall) the white canvas of Rhesus’ Tents* through his tears, men betrayed in their ﬁrst night’s sleep 470 near the city, Hideously butchered by Tydeus’ blood-drenched son, Diomedes.
BOOK TWO S ilence came over them all; eyes focused upon him intently. Father Aeneas arose on his deep-pillowed couch and began thus:* ‘Words can’t express, my queen, what you bid me relive, all the rueful Pain: telling how the Danaäns destroyed Troy’s wealth and its power Makes for a dirge of lament. Heartbreaking events. And I saw them, 5 I was a major part of them all. What Myrmidon soldier, Or what Dolopian, what man who served under callous Ulysses Could ﬁnd words, yet hold back tears? And, besides, night is shedding Dew from the sky, and stars as they fade persuade us to slumber.