The Stolen Throne (Dragon Age, Book 1)
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The thrilling prequel to Dragon Age: Origins, the hit role-playing video game from award-winning developer BioWare!
Dragon Age: The Stolen Throne
After his mother, the beloved Rebel Queen, is betrayed and murdered by her own faithless lords, young Maric becomes the leader of a rebel army attempting to free his nation from the control of a foreign tyrant.
His countrymen live in fear; his commanders consider him untested; and his only allies are Loghain, a brash young outlaw who saved his life, and Rowan, the beautiful warrior maiden promised to him since birth. Surrounded by spies and traitors, Maric must find a way to not only survive but achieve his ultimate destiny: Ferelden’s freedom and the return of his line to the stolen throne.
dismissively. “No. I understand that you’re trying to be brave, lad. But this is the time for discretion.” Maric set his jaw. “And I understand what you’re getting at, Your Grace, but that’s not your decision.” Arl Rendorn turned now, regarding with Maric with growing rage. “Not my decision? I lead this army!” “My army,” Maric insisted. “Or don’t you follow your king?” “I don’t see a king here.” The Arl seethed. “I see a boy who’s trying to be brave! Queen Moira would have understood. She would
“There is,” he cut her off. She watched with fascination as he took a deep breath and then stared straight into her eyes, as if he wanted to be certain she understood his sincerity. “I know what you did, and I’m grateful. I should have told you so before.” The cold went away. Loghain nodded curtly, having made his peace, and quietly turned his attention back to the fire. He went back to warming himself like nothing had happened, and she had no idea what to say in response. So she had said
was almost too still, a gloom cast on the wreckage like a shroud that was only just now being disturbed. Arl Rendorn was quick to realize that order was needed. After waking a number of officers who were still half drunk from the previous night’s exertions, he got much of the rebel army up and moving. Men were sent to patrol the streets and spread the message: The people of Gwaren would be safe under Prince Maric. The grain stores were opened and matters of shelter seen to for those who had spent
right now,” Maric insisted. Arl Rendorn chewed on that thought for a moment as the other soldiers looked at him questioningly. Then he nodded. “As you wish. Perhaps it is for the best.” He turned to face Loghain. “Loghain Mac Tir, you have served your prince well in these past years. You have proved yourself to be an able leader of men, and there is—” “Wait,” Loghain interrupted. “I said I would stay, I don’t need—” “Let me finish.” The Arl smiled. “There is not a day that has passed where
else to go?” The blond man hung his head, looking grim. “No, I . . . suppose not. Nowhere I can get to easily.” Then he set his jaw and looked up at Loghain. “But I’ll make do.” For a moment, Loghain actually believed he might try. No doubt he would fail, but he would try. Whether this was a sign of stubbornness or foolishness or even something else, he couldn’t tell. “We have a camp,” Loghain offered. “It’s hidden.” “You both . . . You didn’t have to help me, I know that. I’m grateful.” His look