By Jeff Mariotte
Within the realm of Aquilonia, within the time while Conan used to be King, a tender barbarian fights to revive the glory of his tribe—and to say his revenge… within the bustling urban of Tarantia, the younger Pictish warrior Kral has been imprisoned after slaughtering a cadre of urban Rangers and Aquilonian infantrymen, whereas his pals Alanya and Doniel fight to discover security within the labyrinthian urban streets.
But Kral’s look for teeth of the Ice Bear—and his attacks on those that stole it—have stuck the eye of King Conan himself. There are rumors he's sending a amazing strength to Kral’s fatherland to overwhelm the presumed Pictish uprising, while the Picts themselves are at the verge of launching a crusade that would drench the land in blood.
Now, Kral and his partners needs to keep on with the path of teeth throughout the again alley shadows of Tarantia, to the halls of King Conan, and around the seas the place their maximum problem awaits them…
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Extra info for Age of Conan: Winds of the Wild Sea: Winds of the Wild Sea
Wait,” Maric protested feebly, raising a hand. ” Gareth sighed. “We need to get you to safety, Your Highness. Loghain knows the forest. ” With a swift motion, he drew his sword. “I will buy you time. ” “You could come with us,” Loghain said to his father, his voice hopeless. “They would just give chase. ” He glanced over at Sister Ailis, who was watching with tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Ailis. I had hoped for . . ” She shook her head emphatically. Her eyes glowed fiercely despite the tears.
Many saw the sister as being the camp’s leader almost as much as his father was, and certainly his father had relied on her advice for many years now. There had been a time when Loghain hoped the affection between the two of them might grow into something more, for both their sakes. Sister Ailis, however, had her calling, and his father had never been the same since they fled the farmhold. It had taken Loghain a long time to realize it, but a part of Gareth had been broken that night. Sister Ailis knew what his father needed better than Loghain ever would, and he had to be content with that.
At least he would no longer be putting them in danger. He kept his stare on the floor for some time, listening to the beat of the rain against the hut and the frenetic activity of the people outside. Men were yelling, things were being covered, children were giggling and being hustled into tents. The smell of fresh rain filled the hut, a scent that Maric had reveled in when he was young because it meant Mother might be forced indoors. But now it only made him anxious. He felt like he was waiting, waiting for Loghain to finally come and kill him, Gareth to command his release, another round of questions, waiting for something to happen.