Tag Archives: Lord Valor

Respect Is Earned

Harmless Hamlet grows. It is an eclectic settlement founded by adventurers and populated with men, monsters, and even some women.

In a tall tent, Colgrevance stands with his arms spread as his orc squire attires him in green-tinted full plate. He is the defacto ruler of Harmless and the sheriff for the whole region.

Jutting out his chin, Colgrevance rolls his shoulders and squats. “Feels like it fits, but how does it look?”

“Magnificent.” The orc dips his head and shuffles his feet.

“Be honest, Quad.”

“You are magnificent, Sir.”

Colgrevance snorts. Quadagh was born in the way of orcs a month earlier, eating free from the womb after his mother was slain. Colgrevance took him under his wing, raising him to be a squire during the curcial imprinting and growth that transforms an orc infant into an orc man.

“Fine craftsmanship from a past age.” Colgrevance clips his sword and helm onto his hip and his shield onto his back. “Martle has done well refitting this armor for me. I must also thank Pipit for recharging its mystic power. It takes discipline to praise useful people you despise. This is especially important for irreplacable casters.”

“Yes, Sir.” Quadagh furrows his hairless brow. “Praise people you despise.”

Continue reading Respect Is Earned

Crashing A Vampire Ball At Lowtide Mansion: Part 5

The many windows of the gothic mansion are curtained, blocking the late afternoon sun with thick midnight-blue canvass.

Colgrevance settles his horse as a dozen men from the Pale Crusade form up to either side. The soldiers plant shields and kneel, peeking over with helms on and heavy crossbows aimed at the tall doors of the ballroom’s entry. Their holy man stands before them, hands clasped, mumbling in Celestial until a white light glows through his palms. Behind, their leader slips on a helmet to seal plate armor fancy enough to rival Colgrevance’s and strides around humming hymns of the angel’s tongue.

“Tristen?” Colgrevance puts on his own helmet.

His armored peer pulls a greatsword off his back and rests it on his shoulder. “We’re ready. Where’s your wearebear?”

“Beorn’s fetching the big lout.”

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Tristen taps his breastplate and whispers a word. A white glow spreads across his suit, like moonlight shining through a metallic window.

Colgrevance drums his fingers on his saddle. “Messoack!”

“I am present.” The gray-skinned magician steps out of the shadows of the alley behind them.

“You sure you won’t lend me that bat ring? You and Jacob will be the only ones without a demigod to summon.” Continue reading Crashing A Vampire Ball At Lowtide Mansion: Part 5