Legends of Gila Boxed Set: Ruyn Trilogy - 1- Sword of Ruyn, 2 - Magic of Ruyn, 3 - Dragon of Ruyn (Legends of Gilia Boxed Set)
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Legends of Gila Boxed Set: Ruyn Trilogy - 1- Sword of Ruyn, 2 - Magic of Ruyn, 3 - Dragon of Ruyn
Legends of Gilia Boxed Sets, Volume 1
RG Long
Published by Retrovert Books, 2019.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
LEGENDS OF GILA BOXED SET: RUYN TRILOGY - 1- SWORD OF RUYN, 2 - MAGIC OF RUYN, 3 - DRAGON OF RUYN
First edition. January 28, 2019.
Copyright © 2019 RG Long.
Written by RG Long.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Ruyn Boxed Set
Sword of Ruyn
1: The Silver Wolf
2: Ealrin Bealouve
3: Stinkrunt
4: The Rusty Hook
5: The Stolen Locket
6: General Rayg
7: Old Soltack
8: Thief Tracking
9: Everstand
10: Justice
11: The White Wind
12: Ceolmaer the Elder
13: The Night Shift
14: The Goblin Pusher
15: Roland’s Fight
16: Wisym of Talgel
17: The Shores of the South
18: Dwarven Stubbornness
19: Weyfield's Plight
20: A Time to Flee
21: Holve’s Surprises
22: Information
23: A Quick Getaway
24: The Speaker
25: Androlion Fellgate
26: Purpose
27: The King’s Swords
28: Dwarven Aid
29: Supper with a King
30: The City Crusher
31: Strategy
32: The Long March South
33: Surrender and Betrayal
34: Fate
35: The Use of Lesser Races
36: King Thoran
37: War
38: Negotiations
39: Routed
40: Verde
41: Beaton’s Governor
42: The Northern Wastes
Magic of Ruyn
1: Felicia Stormchaser
2: Fern's Rest
3: Strategy
4: The New Goblin Doyen
5: A Journey Thwarted
6: A Speaker's Dilemma
7: The Princess
8: Of Necessity
9: Unplanned Adventures
10: The Forests of Thoran
11: Ghosts in the Woods
12: Faraway Fish
13: Old Enemies, New Friends
14: A Threat in the Trees
15: The Greater Good
16: After the Battle
17: The Sly Pirate
18: Mountain Gate
19: Miss Greer's Home for the Helpless
20: Ships of the Southerners
21: Family
22: The Escape Plan
23: Stupid Goblins
24: Rulers Then and Now
25: The Glorious City
26: Carts Full of Slaves
27: Politics
28: The Next Step
29: Marching West
30: Through Trials Still
31: Civil War
32: The High Counselor's Daughter
33: Ealrin's Pursuit
34: The General's Surprise
35: Back At Fern's Rest
36: Hounds of the Plains
37: A Coup Begins
38: Reunited
39: Outside Grandun-Krator
40: The Defense of Castle Thoran
41: A Goblin's Reward
42: Into the Fire
Dragon of Ruyn
1: Wake Up
2: The Man and the Wolf
3: The Council of Seven
4: Alric's Decision
5: Retreat
6: The Shining Suns
7: Generals and Governors
8: Friendly Places
9: A Rift in the Trees
10: Invaders
11: King Thuda's Throne
12: Dwarven Halls
13: Frostbitten Plans
14: Anders Sureloft
15: Gifts Refused
16: Deliberation
17: Against One's Will
18: Thuda's Pride
19: For Jurgon
20: Gorplin's Fight
21: The Savior of Men
22: For Thoran
23: Flames and Ladders
24: The Traitor
25: Quick Council
26: Ruin Come Down
27: Courage
28: Dwarf and Elf
29: A Daughter's Revenge
30: Conviction
31: Close Combat
32: The Brother's War
33: The Last Sunrise
34: Complaints and Cowards
35: A Kingly Refusal
36: Where Allegiances Lie
37: Reinforcements
38: Saving the World
39: The Speaker's Power
40: Aftermath
41: A Princess' Rest
42: Stinkrunt at Sea
43: Sad Reunion
44: Spring's Joy
45: The Rusty Hook
46: Family
Author's Note
Ruyn Boxed Set
Hello Reader!
I'm so excited to share this boxed set with you! These three books form the first trilogy story arc in my epic series, "The Legends of Gilia"!
In this epic, we meet the characters who we'll see explore the entire world of Gilia. We'll meet new friends and experience wonder, loss, revenge, and redemption.
I hope you enjoy this journey!
I loved writing it and can't wait to share more with you!
Please leave an Amazon review when you're done reading, they help authors like me so much! Also, if you want to be kept up to date on the latest releases, please sign-up to my newsletter by clicking here! You'll also receive a free e-book and several maps to this fantasy world!
Thanks!
Enjoy the journey,
RG LONG
Sword of Ruyn
Kingdoms will fall. Men will reign.
Washed ashore on the land of Ruyn, Ealrin Bealouve is a man with no memory of his past.
Desperate to discover who he was and return to his homeland, Ealrin journeys through a continent ruled by elves, dwarves, and men.
But a growing hatred threatens to destroy the peace that has held the continent together for centuries. Ealrin must choose. Will he abandon his quest to remember his past, or join the fight against genocide?
Magic and betrayal, war and legend, his journey through Ruyn will change Ealrin’s fate forever.
1: The Silver Wolf
Snow fell heavily between the trees. The ancient oaks and pines typically shielded the forest floor from the powder of white.
It was a testament to how great the winter storm was.
The far mountains were no longer visible through the dense blizzard. From this spot on a clear day in the northern wastes, one could make out the east and west mountain ranges that formed the borders of this hard and cold land.
On this day, however, it was a challenge to see the trees of the forest from twenty yards away, which, of course, was exactly why she had chosen this spot.
Normally to see the woman now standing at the edge of the mighty forest, if sh
e didn't want to be seen, was quite the feat. She had a talent for disappearing, even in a crowded tavern. But today, between the hard snowfall, the trees of the Saliderian Woods and the whitened cloak of wolf skin she wore, to see her would mean she was less than an arm's length away.
The wind was cold and bitter. It was these types of winds that first bothered her so when she first arrived here. No longer. Now she was accustomed to the wind and snow. So much so that she considered them her partner, always aiding her and allowing her to use them to her advantage.
What little of her face that was exposed stung in the fierce gale. Her silver hair was braided into a single plait that ran the length of her back, trailing from the heavy fur hood she wore. The hood was fashioned from the same skull of the beast whose fur she wore on her back. His face still struck terror in those who saw it now, though the life of him bled out some five years ago.
She was of a slender build and medium height. Underneath the furs, skins, and double blades she had strapped to her back was a beauty that was unparalleled to most of fairer lands. To see her without her hunting gear would cause most men to crane their necks to get a second glance.
If, indeed, their necks had not been broken before they could try to catch those enchanting blue eyes.
The wind was slowing now, but the snow was falling harder than ever. A new layer of snow would add another arm's length to the depth of what was already blanketing the ground. She had no fears of being followed and no worries about anything being found this far out in the wastes until spring.
Perfect conditions to claim a bounty.
She had been stalking her prey for three days, waiting for the right opportunity. He headed east for a while, which most travelers in these parts do after trekking through the southern pass. That path led to the first relief from the cold winter in a three day walk in any direction.
Those who traveled east without first stopping to rest and resupply were either foolish or determined, or perhaps a combination of the two.
This man was the latter.
He now approached in his slow and steady pace, which he had kept for ten days. His heavy jacket and pack were covered in snow and to any other man, the two arm lengths of powder he was blazing through would be enough of an excuse to turn back.
But not for a foolish and determined man headed east in the northern wastes.
Her eyes narrowed to ensure this was the same man she had been tracking for the last few days. The previous night she had gone ahead of him, anticipating the direction he was heading so that he might pass by her. Only once had she ended the life of someone whom she had incorrectly thought her bounty. Not this time.
Yes, this was the man. The military coat still showed some of the dark green color through the white powder. His stature was certainly that of a warrior; he was taller than the average male and certainly had a much broader chest. His arms were the size of tree limbs. The wind gusted unexpectedly, knocking off the soldier’s hat. His auburn hair flashed as he made a grab for the soaked and worn head covering. After tugging it back onto his head, he resumed his trek.
Though she cared less for the reason and more for the gold she would soon claim, it unnerved her to think of someone headed east after the rumors of the growing unrest down south.
She needn't lose much sleep tonight, however.
Her first knife found his chest before he had comprehended the whirl of the steel through the air. Clutching the handle now protruding from his heart, he staggered. It was only a breath before she was on him, blade drawn and brought to his neck.
“You're the most expensive bounty I've had in a year. It's been a pleasure.”
For a moment he struggled to reach around himself and grab this assailant. For a moment she feared he may have been able to draw his sword and do damage to her. But only for a moment. Her second blade made its cut: deeply and effectively.
His lifeless body sunk to the ground.
She cleaned her blade carefully and returned it to its sheath. Her knife received the same treatment before it was fastened to her calf. The number of blades she wore, both concealed and in plain sight outnumbered her own fingers.
Her instructions were simple. Return the book and the necklace and she'd have her reward. Both of these he had kept in a satchel hung around his shoulder for the entirety of his time spent in the wastes. Anything else of value found on her kill was hers for the taking.
When she eyed the beautifully crafted spear with its azure gem set into the base of the tip, she hungrily relieved it from its former owner and took hold of it. A weapon so fine had not been seen in the wastes for many years.
Quickly, she looked up from her business of looting and sniffed the air.
This smell was new. Not one she had encountered while tracking the man who was now nearly covered in snow. She breathed in deeply, then spun around on her heel.
He was only a stone’s throw away. How he had avoided her for so long made her wonder if he had come from the forest as she had. She dropped the spear and drew her blade, swearing under her breath for letting him see her.
He would not have the gift of sight for long.
2: Ealrin Bealouve
There was nothing but fog. It was all he could see.
He could still hear the screams. He could still taste the salt water in his mouth. But all he could see, all he could remember, was fog.
Sensations played in his head.
Falling darkness. Ear splitting screams. Water. Fog.
Suddenly a new sensation reached his senses.
He was on fire.
No, not on fire. But burning. In a moment he realized his eyes could open. In raising his eyelids a hair's breadth he immediately regretted it. The sun was burning down on him. He closed his eyes. The light was blinding compared to the darkness and fog.
His arms were only sluggishly responding to his desires to move them. His feet were soaked, along with most of his legs. He realized that half of him lay in water. Not still water, but a tide. It was at this same moment he realized the terrible pain in his abdomen. He slowly brought his fingers to his ribs and felt the torn cloth that was his jacket and his shirt. The warmth of his own blood contrasted the cool sea water.
As he touched his bare ribs the familiar darkness came back, threatening to engulf him again.
More screams.
And yet, these voices were different. These were not the ones in his head.
These were running down the beach.
***
“I SEE YOU’VE DECIDED not to die after all.”
The throbbing in his head was immense. The pain in his chest was still quite real. The screams and the fog vanished a bit as he began to become aware of his surroundings.
Instead of a sandy beach, he lay on a bed. Instead of a burning sun, there was a ceiling above him. Instead of water at his feet, there was a blanket.
He lay in a room, dimly lit. The light was easier on his eyes than the burning sun he last recalled seeing.
But not much better.
It took him several moments of blinking to understand that, in the corner of the room sat a man. The one who had apparently just confirmed what he had been wondering during his dreams of fog and voices: he was alive.
Finally, his eyes were usable and he leaned forward to glance about the room.
It was sparsely furnished. He lay in one of the two beds that were separated by a small table at the head of each. The wall to his left was barely an arm's breadth away. At the foot of the two beds was a space slightly larger. Two chairs framed the small fireplace that provided low light in the room. To the right of the fireplace was the door. A few pegs on the wall beside held his shirt and coat.
An inn.
The idea came to him as he laid his head back down on the pillow. His ribs still burned with the small effort of looking at his surroundings.
“No. I’m alive,” he finally said.
His voice was harsh, unused. There were suddenly several questions he had to
ask, but the fog lingered in his mind, preventing him from forming any.
“You’ve been laying on that bed now for half a moon,” said the man in the corner chair.
Instead of trying to ask, he looked at the seated man, investigating who he was.
Straining his neck a little, without moving his chest, he could see who was dimly lit by the fire.
The first thing he noticed was a grimace on the man’s face.
He sat comfortably in the chair, as if he was accustomed to spending time in it. As if it were made for him. He was pleasant in appearance, save for the look on his face. His brown hair was not long enough to hide his green and narrowed eyes, but stopped above his eyebrows. His expression didn’t seem to be narrow out of menace or strife. His eyes spoke about the life he had seen lived out before him.
He wore a simple green shirt with a leather vest and pants. His black boots looked well worn and traveled on. From across the bed, his stubble was visible. Some gray hairs betrayed him as older than 30, yet there was something in his eyes that Ealrin couldn’t quite place. Like a father examining his son after seeing him fall from a tree.
“My name is Holve, in case you were curious."
He was curious.
“And yours is?” asked Holve.
But now his first coherent question came to mind:
“What is my name?”
The words escaped his lips alongside his thoughts.
The wrinkles on Holve’s face shifted as his expression changed. Was it pity?
“Eh, that part I may be able to help with. Your coat had in it the name 'Ealrin Bealouve.’ It’s sewed into the collar quite nicely actually. Someone with a skilled hand had done it.”
Ealrin.
The name floated in amid the fog. It sounded like a name he had heard many times. Could it be his?
He wasn’t sure.
He didn’t have any better suggestions either.
“Ealrin Bealouve.”
Again his voice was harsh. He was overcome with a thirst at the moment.
“Water. Please. A drink.” he managed.
Instead of a word, Holve gave him a wink and left the room. He soon returned with a wooden cup and a pitcher full of water. He poured some into the cup and offered it.