We're all going to die. That thought echoed through my mind as the wagon carried us toward the Great Crag. The diplomats around me intended to speak with the Daughters of Sora Kell. All I could think about was the stories my grandmother used to tell me. Sora Maenya can crush a giant with her bare hands. She can eat the whole creature and still be hungry. If you're bad, she'll come in the night and carry you away. She'll make a lantern of your skull and torment you until the end of time.And she's the least frightening member of the Daughters of Sora Kell!
When I could set aside my sheer terror, I was learning a great deal about this strange nation. The Daughters invested power in warlords, each of whom rules a territory in their name. It's sort of like Karrnath, except each of the warlords of Droaam is a horrifying monster. We were traveling through the territory of the Prince of Bones, an ancient troll said to be too evil to die. We'd already passed through the domain of Queen Sheska the medusa, where even the trees are turning to stone. Harpies. Gargoyles. There's even a king of the kobolds. Our caravan was being protected by gnolls. Not protected from gnolls, protected by gnolls. I thought things couldn't get any stranger. I couldn't have been more wrong....
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