Strife Of The Mighty by Julius Bailey Review Tour
Brandegan quickened his run. Ahead of him the lights had begun to recede, melting into the night like wraiths. There were no more shouts either. All around silence again crept forward. Just before he could reach them, the last of the fires vanished. Brandegan was just about to dash after them, but something halted him. The heavy forestry round about was still, too still. Brandegan became aware of an intense watchfulness, and as he listened, a shroud of dread descended upon him.
Suddenly he felt, rather than saw, a shadow shift beside him. Next moment, he was hurled forward, heaved from the earth as though he was weightless, and tossed like a wind-blasted reed. Hardly had he struck the ground when a dark weight fell on him, crushing him down. He heard a snarl, and then four enormous claws, sharp as blades, raked his side. He fought back, lashing out with Rithlir, but a great, hirsute paw gripped his arm and, with a massive strength, pinned it to the ground.
Then Brandegan saw the eyes. Hovering just before his face, they shone as red fire, feeding the darkness with their terror and harboring within them the insatiable spirit of the Dread Palace. Even as they gazed down on their prey, the malice behind those eyes was kindled to sudden wrath, for here at last was their scourge, here at last was the thorn long sought.
But just before teeth as deadly as the edge of Rithlir found their mark, there was a dazzling flash. Shadows leapt up and fled, the darkness was pushed back, and in that moment Brandegan’s adversary was revealed. Greater in stature than any beast of the wild stood Daugruil. As other Gragmarr, his forelegs loomed up, broad and strong. His back, arching downward near his hind-legs, was covered in coarse, crimson fur, and his great muzzle was lined with dagger-edged teeth. Now he stumbled backward, thwarted from his intent by the blinding, silver flare.
Brandegan leapt to his feet as soon as the weight was lifted. His side throbbed in agony, and blood had already soaked through his raiment. But he heeded it not. The insatiable spirit of malice that burned in the eyes of this Gragmarr he knew.
When I first started reading Strife of the Mighty, I was transported back to high school freshman maybe sophomore English when we were reading Beowulf. That's not a bad thing I enjoyed Beowulf and got really excited to really dig into Strife of the Mighty. Now I'm not a big fantasy reader but will give any book a try, I'm glad I did. Julius Bailey has written a poetic lyrical novel that pulls you right in and holds onto you right up until the end.
In the far away land of Vrandelin, Brandegan tries to warn villagers of Vararel of danger, the do not believe him and they are attacked by giants. Journeying to the capital city of Darfandor, Brandegan, Allon and Merch are met with danger and adventure with every turn they make. I was kept on the edge of my seat with every page turn. If you love an action packed fantasy read, Strife of the Mighty is for you and you will not regret reading it!
Review by Raychel
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Adventurer, wonderer and wanderer, creative thinker and eccentrically unconventional, Julius Bailey tends to tread the peculiar paths. Born to the humidity, tropical sights, and gators of Florida, he lived in the Sunshine State for fourteen years of his life before moving to the rolling hills and red clay of Oklahoma. At the age of twelve he fell in love with a book called ‘The Secrets of Droon: The Hidden Stairs and the Magic Carpet.’ From thence his love of reading bloomed. Having taken a keen interest in the fantastical realms of Fantasy, his jaunts mainly focus thitherward. He currently resides upon a hilltop thronged with hilltops, and avidly welcomes communication from his readers.