top of page
Save the prince, save the world. Maybe stop for coffee.



Magic is returning. Or so say the old prophesies cobbled from wandering soothsayers, women huffing broken gas lines, and the back of comic tomes. The Evil Empireâ„¢ of Avar and its perfectly sane, in no way crazy Emperor risks others life and limb to stop it from coming to pass.

 

Ciara, a black servant into her sixteenth year, finds herself on a quest across the countryside to get the second son and only hope of the severed Ostero line onto his throne. Along the way, she and Aldrin — the rather simple and OH GODS KEEP HIM AWAY FROM ANYTHING SHARP prince — find themselves at the mercy of assassins, witches, traveling historians, killer doctors, and the unblinkers.

 

Can two teens survive an Empire crashing down upon them while a shambling army of corpses waits patiently in the shadows? Will the religious fight for and against magic rip apart the world they all became rather fond of? And just how can a fifteen year old take over a throne dangling precariously over the edge of war?

In space, no one can hear you crit.

 

The Elation-Cru is not the flashiest ship, nor the newest, or even has all of its bolts attached; but she can fly. Well, sort of wade through space, and that's when all the parts are working. She supports a sugar addicted dwarven pilot, an elven engineer, an orcish doctor, a silent djinn, and the lone human trying to hold the entire thing together with duct tape. Variel, the captain, has been hiding from a secret for the past five years and time's finally run out.


When she goes against her common sense and fights to save her onboard assassin/renter from a job gone sour, she finds herself before an ex-colleague that knew her in her previous life as the Knight of the realm. The entire ship is sent on a mad dash across the universe -- from a decaying space station, home to the wackiest species the galaxy has to offer, down to the Orc homeworld, which wouldn't be so bad if Variel hadn't spent most of her previous life fighting in the war against them. Chances of survival are nil and slipping fast.

"Who said Immortality was Forever?"

 

Life trickled by well for Cas, goblins tended to stay dead after getting run through and her partner in crime - Hum, the Giant of whatever place he chose for that week - was still vertical.

 

But that all changed one day in an inn (it's always a dilapidated inn as opposed to a warm meadow or carriage show) when a cowled figure entered her life and bonked it good.

 

Now she's stuck leading a pack of elves, and one ass, through a forestry maze that's determined to keep them from their goal; which she'd happily tell you about as soon as she figures it out herself.

 

Somewhere between the stuff of legends and the legends of stuff lies the actual muddy, humorous and gory truth.
 

In the tales of adventurers and heroes everyone knows the farm boy, on his quest to slay the Ogre/Dragon/Nosy neighbor who really shouldn’t be poking around in the azaleas with his camera must enlist the tutelage of a wise benevolent master.

 

But sometimes the old narrative gets a bit crossed and the farm boy is actually the misbegotten son of a blacksmith and the benevolent master is a retired woman who’d rather face down a rather peckish horde of brain eaters than teach an idiot how to properly wave a sword before heroically soiling his drawers.

 

Funny how they never mentioned that part in the tales.

 

bottom of page