G I V E A W A Y E N D E D
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What you see on the surface is not always what you get.
Meet Artimus, the head investigator for the elvish kingdom of Erathal who begins to notice the flaws in his apparently perfect society. As he develops feelings for Savannah, a beautiful elvish druid hiding an important secret, he struggles to separate his personal feelings from his responsibilities to the kingdom.
In a nearby center village, the young warrior Irontail struggles to distinguish himself in a tribe where independent thought is discouraged. When their paths cross, they both discover that their own people’s shortcomings may be the least of their concerns. Putting aside their own personal troubles, they must fight against the clock to ensure the very survival of their peoples. As they work towards this common goal, they find that they each have their own, unique gifts to offer. But, will they be strong enough to survive?
The second edition of the critically-acclaimed 5-star fantasy epic, The Birth of Death takes readers on an unforgettable fantasy journey. Re-released in collaboration with Free Dragon Press, the second edition brings all the excitement of the initial release in a more refined package. Dark elves, demons, centaur, elves, trolls, and a host of other fantasy creatures, Evorath offers it all!
“Overall, The Birth of Death is definitely recommended to fans of LOTR and Game of Thrones.” – Readers’ Favorite 5-Star Review
“Snappy writing keeps the action moving, and satisfying doses of lore, bolstered by appendices with maps and a glossary, will keep readers wanting to return to the world of Evorath for more.” – The BookLife Prize in Fiction
On sale for a limited time only!
Excerpt 1 – Summoning Ritual
As the embarrassing exchange concluded, Goldenchest left Irontail alone with the two elves. He felt uncomfortable after being scolded by his elder, but he was mature enough to ignore the shame. His habit to think about every little order before executing it was proving to be quite a nuisance lately. Still, he had a job to do, and he wouldn’t let his embarrassment interfere.
Fortunately for Irontail, both elves were much too shocked to ask any questions as their eyes traveled across the giant chamber. Even Irontail could not believe that all this was possible, but somehow the elders had gathered a druid from every sentient species of the forest.
He spotted the satyr druid he had escorted across the hall and watched as he conversed with a beautiful lamia. Not far from them were a group of lizock who seemed intent on being isolated, a practice common to their race. To the other side of the room there were felite conversing with a pair of barghest and a rather small troll. This was a gathering to be proud of and knowing that it was his elders who had organized this event reassured Irontail of their infinite wisdom. Never before had all of these races united for a single cause.
“I don’t believe my eyes,” Artimus exclaimed as his gaze passed over the felite and fixed in on the troll.
“Is that a troll?” Savannah asked.
“Yes it is,” answered Irontail full of pride.
“What are all of these people doing here?” Artimus questioned. “And what is that dog looking creature?”
“I believe you mean the barghest, sir.” Savannah interjected matter-of-factly.
“Yes, it is a barghest,” Irontail confirmed. “Their elders claim that at one time they were more numerous than both our species put together.”
“There are many legends about barghest being around in the age of demons, before elf, dwarf, centaur, or any other common race even existed,” Savannah added.
“Don’t stories also say that barghest fought on the side of the demons?” Artimus asked.
To that, Irontail had no answer. History was not one of his strong points.
“I don’t know,” he interjected, “But enough about the barghest. You asked why they have gathered. I shall give you an answer.”
Irontail paused for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what to say. In all honesty, he wasn’t even sure of the exact reason these races had gathered. All that he did know was what his elders had told him in the meeting he attended just after escorting the satyr courier. He just needed to make it look like he understood more…
“Well. You see. These nine races that are gathered represent the greatest species of the woods. These nine, including both your race and my own, will perform the first perfect druidic ritual. With your help,” he said turning to Savannah, “all nine races will be present and the ritual will be done.”
“Wait,” Savannah began, her face losing color. “Are you talking about a Xyrloom?”
Excerpt 2 – Cooking Scene
She had already started a small fire with the tinderbox that rested on the rough countertop next to her stove and a bucket of water hung just above the reach of the flames, the water boiling.
“Perfect,” thought Savannah out loud, pulling the bucket out from the stove and placing it on the counter.
She reached beneath the counter, pulling a small mortar and pestle from an otherwise empty shelf. Dropping the Yggdril petals into the pestle, she took the mortar and began grinding them up, crushing them into a fine paste. Savannah was not used to working with her hands, and even when she had prepared this special salad for her village, she always had help for any of the manual labor. Still, this was worth her time, and she wanted to make sure that everything was perfect.
After a few minutes of grinding the petals, she shook them up a bit and, unsatisfied with the results, continued her grinding. With only a few more minutes of this work, her arm was already beginning to tire, but she persisted. Within about fifteen minutes, she had finally ground the petals to a satisfactory fine paste.
She now turned her attention to the water, which still had a small amount of steam rising from it. Bending down to the bottom shelf, which was filled with bowls, plates, and an assortment of covered containers, Savannah grabbed both a medium sized bowl and a small container. Placing both items on the counter, she opened the small container to reveal salt.
Taking the bowl, she dipped it into the bucket of water and carefully pulled it out, pouring a small amount back into the bucket so that the bowl was about three quarters full. Dumping about a fifth of the salt into her palm, she sprinkled it into the water bowl. Next, she picked up the mortar and used her fingers to scoop out the paste, finishing up with a splash of water to rinse out the mortar.
Pushing the mortar and pestle aside and placing the top back on the salt, she bent down again and grabbed a large spoon as well as another small container from the bottom shelf. This other container held thyme, which she dumped straight from the container. With all four ingredients mixed together, she stirred the dressing.
Almost instantly, the water darkened, thickening to a more milky consistency. The silver color of the petals spread through the clear liquid, mixing with the salt and thyme to cause the water to change to a honey-like color. As she continued to stir, the water bubbled slightly, a sign that the salt was bonding properly with the Yggdril petals and releasing their magic into the dressing. Finally, there was a light hiss as she ceased her stirring, the cloudy dressing still swirling within the bowl.
Savannah smiled, delighted that she had finished the most cumbersome task, she gathered the materials and returned them to their proper place. She left the bucket of water on the floor next to the stove, thinking she could utilize it later. Now she just had to cool the dressing for a while, and as that was happening she could buy the rest of the food for her meal. Artimus would have to be impressed by her ability to cook once he tasted this meal.
Leaving the dressing on the counter, Savannah walked across her cabin and reached into the cupboard that was situated by the entryway. From there, she pulled out two new containers and a clear, round bottomed flask. Returning to her countertop, she opened the two containers and dumped the contents of the first into the flask until it reached a small mark that she had left for measuring. The other container held a few small, white solids. Taking one of these deformed rocks out, she dropped it into the flask and twirled the mixture.
The barium hydroxide hydrate began reacting with the solid ammonium chloride. As the two ingredients continued their endothermic reaction, a small amount of vapor rose from the container. Holding the flask away from her nose, Savannah waited for the vapor to slow and then placed the flask directly into the dressing. She watched as a thin layer of frost formed on the outside of the flask and then reached under the counter and took out another bowl. Flipping the bowl upside down, she covered the dressing and the flask that rested within. This would help lock the cold air in.
Excerpt 3 – Battle Scene
Tel ‘Shira was growing impatient. It had seemed like an eternity since she had assumed her position here in this oak, and the anticipation was becoming unbearable. The incessant rain, though much lighter than before, didn’t help the situation any.
She had participated in a number of engagements during her time as a warrior. From fighting a centaur tribe, to barghest, lizock, and even an engagement with a band of ogres from the mountains, she had more experience in combat than most. Still, this felt different than any engagement before, and she could not help but feel a certain apprehension.
Then it hit her.
A tingle ran down her spine. A loud shriek followed almost immediately, the sound of a roc in serious distress. She turned her head up towards the sound, catching a glimpse of a dark figure swooping just above the tree line.
One of her allies fell right before her, his spear tumbling to the ground as his lifeless body impacted a lower branch on its way down. His mount followed quickly behind, one of its wings torn clean off. The blood soaked its once regal feathers, pieces of bone and sinew sticking out of its side.
Another shriek followed from above, and another roc rider came tumbling down just across the clearing. Tel’ Shira climbed, swinging branch to branch. Her claws tore into bark as she catapulted herself up.
There was a flash of lightning as she flipped herself over the top branch, arriving safely above to see her four remaining allies. The illumination from the lightning aided her in seeing the two dark figures that were flying just above. Three of her allies were closing in on one of the demons, attempting a three-pronged attack to take out their enemy.
Unfortunately, the second demon had no intention of letting this assault succeed. It quickly dropped down from above, plucking one of the three riders from his mount and tearing his legs off as if pulling a weed. With a quick spin, the demon’s left claw impacted the roc and tore through with just as much ease. The blood and bodies of both its victims tumbled down through the trees and out of sight.
These demons were as large as a small drake, making the rocs that her allies rode upon look like mice by comparison. They appeared to be twins, both having leathery, black skin and demonic, yellow eyes. Each had a short tail with spikes protruding from all sides, giving them a natural weapon. Their pupils were like slits in pools of blood, and as Tel’ Shira locked eyes with the demon who had just torn her ally apart, she felt as if she was trapped in a void of despair. She had to act. Now.
As the cornered demon went to defend against the rider to its left, the first demon swooped up toward the other rider. Tel’ Shira sprang forward, her legs propelling her with speed and power. Flying gracefully through the air towards her unsuspecting prey, she pulled two daggers out from her belt, ready to pounce with precision and take down her much larger foe.
Through her peripherals, she caught a glimpse of the final living rider. He was descending towards the primary demon. Time slowed as the wind ran across Tel’ Shira’s body, each drop of rain flowing across her fur without resistance.
She landed blades first upon her prey, the daggers penetrating through the thick skin of this demon and into the flesh of his back. The demon let out a cry like none she had heard before. Following his cry of pain, he spewed out a great torrent of flame towards the nearest roc rider, instantly incinerating the unsuspecting felite and his mount.
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Husband, father, and seeker of truth, Joseph Macolino has a passion for nature, philosophy, and all things fantasy. An unwavering Christian and self-declared anarchist, he dreams of a future human society where people can truly cooperate and voluntarily exchange ideas, goods, and services.
When he’s not writing Evorath, he’s likely outside gardening, spending time watching a show with his family, or reading a book on philosophy. Considering himself a lifelong student of humanity, Joseph enjoys meeting new people and being exposed to new perspectives. He believes each person’s unique gifts can help contribute to stronger communities and hopes his work encourages others to embrace their gifts.
Evorath introduces a rich world full of magic, adventure, and diverse characters trying to find their place in the world.
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