Writing project: "Getting a Head" (Patreon)

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          **As I mentioned in my previous post on the topic, I'm going to continue posting proposals for future writing projects to be completed after Wizard Tournament. What follows is one such project. It is not the most well-developed of the potential projects I'm planning to propose, but I'm hoping it will be a popular one as it is a world I am excited to share with more people. This story will be written in First Person perspective with Simple Past tense and will only have one perspective character throughout, similar to Wizard Tournament. It will also be a High Fantasy/Adventure.

          **As is my habit, I have already developed a meticulous magic system for this world (which involves a pantheon of gods who grant their power to followers according to specific rules unique to each of them) and a world map... and basic cover, and an outline for the entire story... The cover is just something basic I pulled together myself and if this story wins the vote I will be sure to commission something professional instead. The point I'd like to get across in this post is: this story is "ready to go" and as soon as Wizard Tournament is completed I'd be ready to start churning out chapters of this new project. I have prepared a draft of the prologue chapter for Getting a Head which sets up the world a bit and shows a momentous scene that happens several decades before the start of Chapter 1. If you scroll down below the prologue you can read the elevator pitch for this story which should give you a good idea of where I plan to go with it after this prologue. Feel free to leave your thoughts in the comment section, but save your voting until the end, there are still a few more project proposals to go and it might take me a couple weeks to draft the rest of them up. (Though I might not bother drafting preview chapters for all of them).

          **You can absolutely skip the prologue and just read the elevator pitch at the bottom first (which I will put in bold), but the pitch necessarily spoils the events of the prologue, which is why I'm choosing to share it at the bottom.

Getting a Head — Prologue

          “Paladin Gregor,” I greeted the guard at the door, “I was sent by Paladin Harald from the forge. I have an urgent message for Lady Serela.”

          Paladin Gregor narrowed his eyes through his visor, then instead of responding to me he put one of his gloved hands over his heart and murmured out a prayer. “Liira, goddess of light who watcheth over her children, lend this humble servant power that he mayst spread thine will.” At his words a soft white light began to pulse from between his fingers. He spread the fingers of his hand and directed his palm towards me to cover me in a beam of light. I tried not to roll my eyes. “Explain yourself, Squire Martin,” Paladin Gregor commanded.

          I squinted towards him through the glare of light, “Paladin Harald sent me to give a message for Lady Serela,” I told him, “an urgent message.”

          “You’re telling the truth then,” Paladin Gregor confirmed. This time I actually did roll my eyes. He released the light and cuffed me almost automatically on the back of the head. “That is not proper etiquette for a paladin of Liira, Squire Martin,” he admonished. His eyes shifted from within his visor to something that could have been a scowl or a smile and he moved aside to let me pass, “On your way then, Squire Martin, and be on your best behavior inside, we have some very important guests.”

          I ducked my head respectfully and pushed my way through the large oak double doors.

          The first thing I saw was the twinkling beauty of Lady Serela all the way at the far end of the feast table. She was hard to miss as even at this distance the swan feathers in her dress splayed out in a fan that encompassed the end of the table. The shimmer of Liira’s light pulsing off of her made her hard to look away from. She seemed like a star that had descended from the heavens to take part in a celebration attended by mere mortals.

          The doors slammed shut behind me and the sound reminded me of my purpose for being there. I stopped gawking and started marching towards Lady Serela. When I looked ahead and saw that the contingent of orcs were all sitting along one side of the table I quickly doubled back and took the other side. They were supposedly our allies now, and they were all wearing clothes at least, but still—better safe than sorry.

          As soon as I started marching past the assorted lords and ladies it was hard not to gawk again at the roughly dressed sailors nearest me who had beach sand strewn all around their feet. They were being awfully rowdy and hooting in drunken celebration with no signs of stopping. I wasn’t sure why Gregor was so concerned about my behavior with guests like that. They had been considered criminal pirates before they’d helped in the war effort. Not exactly quality guests.

          I couldn’t complain though: they were making such a racket that nobody even heard me open the doors, and the other assembled lords and ladies were so pointedly not looking in their direction that I didn’t have to suffer through having the entire hall watching me the way I’d been dreading. A pair of elves from old King Eadmond’s court noticed me as I passed and watched me like a hawk. Something about the way their heads darted suddenly towards me and followed my movements reminded me of a bird. It also could have been the hawk feathers worked into their hair—Isenrie was a strange goddess. The contingent of orcs made a drunken toast to “The last fight against enemies that don’t bleed,” as I passed. I sensed that it wasn’t the first of such toasts based on their volume.

          And finally I was there. Lady Serela was even more magnificent up close. She moved with a grace that rivaled the elves as she took a dainty nibble from a cucumber sandwich.

          “…and the whole time she didn’t moo once,” the wrinkled old King Raald was saying, apparently in the middle of a story, “then, right when I really start getting into it she-“

          “I’m sorry to interrupt,” Lady Serela stopped him in her gentle voice, “but this squi-“

          “Are you now?” The old man responded, “Does that mean you liked my story?” He had a crooked grin on his face that showed off yellowed teeth.

          “You are a valuable ally,” Lady Serela said in answer to his question and then excused herself before he could follow up. In one swift move the swan feathers of her dress folded in and the twinkling light around her faded as she slid daintily off her seat. She looked at me then. Me! Her eyes moved up and down my body, taking my measure in a moment and I stood as straight as I could, hoping she would find me worthy. Lady Serela, Prophet of the Goddess of Liira. She spoke with the authority of a goddess and in that moment she had the whole of her attention directed solely at me.

          I cleared my throat.

          “I do think he was trying to provoke my sensibilities with that lewd story,” Lady Serela informed me in a conspiratorial whisper. “I must thank you for rescuing me from its ending, Squire Martin.”

          I felt a sudden rush of vertigo at those last words. Lady Serela had thanked me. Lady Serela knew me by name! I was on a first name basis with the Voice of the Goddess! I was suddenly self-conscious of the fact that I was still wet with sweat from the forge.

          “…Harald?” Serela finished, looking at me expectantly. It sounded like a question. I hadn’t been paying attention.

          I tried my best to guess at what her question had been. “Yes,” I responded quickly, “Paladin Harald sent me to tell you that there is singing coming from the forge.”

          My report seemed to satisfy her. She wrinkled her brows and pursed her lips for a second before replying, “And what was the song?”

          “Seeker, Soldier, Spy,” I told her automatically, “the one about the man who goes looking for his love, joins the army, gets captured—“

          “Then breaks his chains and kills the evil queen,” Lady Serela finished grimly. I thought it was a rather pessimistic over simplification of the final verse but I kept my mouth shut. After a moment’s pause Lady Serela pulled up her dress to walk more easily and simply said, “Come.”

          She walked quite quickly for a lady, forcing me to nearly jog to keep pace with her. The feathers hanging off of her dress flapped gracelessly as she trotted forward. The rows of raucous guests passed us on the left as we retraced my earlier path to the front door. “Paladin Harald tells me you are a promising young pupil, Squire Martin,” Lady Serela addressed me while we walked.

          I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say to this so I just gave an affirmative grunt. It was sinful to show pride and I didn’t want to say the wrong thing around the Lady Serela. When we reached the entrance two guards in brightly polished armor moved to open the doors without a word. Then one of drunken sailors swaggered out of her chair and stood between us and the door. She was a short woman, only coming up to my shoulders and she sported an eye patch. Her thick black braid, dark tan and the scar peeking out from beneath her eye patch made a stark contrast to Lady Serela’s flawless skin and flowing blonde hair. Interestingly, she was the only one among the pirates that wasn’t careful to walk only on sand.

          Lady Serela came to a halt and gave the rough woman a curtsy. “Lady Aldfrea,” she greeted.

          The other woman snorted out a laugh. “Lady? I think that’s the first time anyone’s called me a lady. Please, just call me Captain Black Braid,” she said with a half-smile. “Everyone else does.”

          “Very well,” Lady Serela conceded, “can I help you with something, Captain Black Braid?”

          Without saying anything more the black haired woman peeled back her eye patch to reveal a hideous scar and a pale, sightless eye. “Yeah,” she said very matter-of-factly, “you can fix my eye like you promised.”

          Lady Serela gave her a quick smile. “I believe I said I would attempt to wield Liira’s holy light to that purpose, and if the Lady of Light accepted your atonement then your wound—”

          “Aren’t you the bloody Voice of the Goddess?” the black haired woman interrupted hotly. She touched the tip of a single finger to her heart and a glowing blue mist flowed over the finger, she then whipped the finger in small circles in front of her as though stirring an upside down cup of tea. Soon there was a tiny black thunderhead complete with little sparks of lightning floating before her. The black haired woman fixed Lady Serela with a one-eyed glare that would have made Paladin Harald envious. “Accept. My. Atonement,” she continued in a tone that brooked no argument, “What are a few murders compared to the lives of the whole bloody continent?”

          I took a cautious step closer to Lady Serela’s side; hand on my heart—ready to pull in Liira’s light if it became necessary. I saw the nearby guards do the same. Allies or not, our peoples had a history of violence that couldn’t be ignored.

          “Atonement is never a simple thing,” Lady Serela tried to explain to her. “Liira’s light can only heal the innocent. If the Goddess does not accept your deeds or your motivations then instead of healing you, her light will burn you.”

          Without the slightest gesture, or even touching her heart, the black haired woman’s braids and clothes began to float away from her as if not held in place by gravity any longer. “Is that a threat? Try it and see what happens.”

          Lady Serela brought her hand to her heart and closed her eyes for a second to concentrate, then pulled her hand away glowing with a light so brilliant it was nearly blinding. I squinted to keep watching as her hand closed in on the injured eye. The light spread out to cover half of the black haired woman’s face. Then it winked out, leaving behind a clear brown eye and a new section of un-tanned skin where the scar used to be. “It appears the Goddess of Light has accepted your atonement,” Lady Serela announced with a serene smile.

          The tension that had hung in the air a second ago melted away. The black haired woman roughly clapped Lady Serela on the shoulder like they were suddenly good friends and gave a manly bellow of laughter. She turned back towards her crew of ex-pirates sitting at the table behind her and there were loud cheers and raised glasses from all of them.

          Lady Serela gathered up her skirts and continued on as though uninterrupted. The two guards who had been waiting patiently at the door pulled it open for us. “Paladin Fain, Paladin Fredrick,” Lady Serela greeted each of them in turn with a slight curtsy, “Could you make sure Lady Aldfrea and her guests don’t run out of wine?”

          “Of course my Lady,” Paladin Fain said, “but I believe they have been drinking ale all evening.”

          “Well, more of whatever it is they prefer then,” she corrected.

          When we got outside I quickly took the lead to guide Lady Serela through the rubble, it wasn’t a very straightforward path but I was afraid a more direct route would take us through pointed stones that might punch holes right through her delicate shoes. While we were carefully choosing our footing I couldn’t help but ask, “Why go to such lengths to keep Captain Black Braid happy? I thought the Liiran church was supposed to punish criminals, but now we’re treating them to feasts and healing their—”

          Lady Serela stopped me with an upheld hand. “It is Liira who healed her. Liira’s light can only heal the innocent. She and her pirates earned their innocence when they helped save mankind, it is not our place to second-guess the Goddess of Justice’s decisions,” she explained.

          “Yes, of course, my Lady,” I answered. She knew better than I what our own teachings were.

          She was quiet for a moment and I thought she was done sharing her wisdom until she continued. “It is also important that we keep our guests happy. If any of them decided to take the city we wouldn’t have the strength to stop them.”

          I was surprised to hear this. “But Liiran Paladins are the most formidable soldiers in the world!” I said, copying a line I’d heard from Master Draedn a hundred times.

          Lady Serela let out a sigh. “And if there were any left that might matter,” she explained. “Right now there are only nine. Nine paladins of Liira left in the whole world. And all but one of them is at a dinner party so we can appear stronger than we are.”

          I considered this new information. It was true that I was squiring under Paladin Harald now since Master Draedn had died. Had the war really been so devastating? When we approached the doors to the forge I was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that there were no guards on duty. I had assumed it was because everyone was celebrating; now I realized it might be because there weren’t enough men to spare. I gestured outwards at the crumbling stone walls, smashed buildings and the piles of debris we’d had to climb through while I held the door for her. I thought of a way to bring some levity to the situation. “I don’t think we have anything to worry about,” I told her with a smile: “Anything of value left in this city was destroyed long ago.”

          Lady Serela chuckled into her hand. “Perhaps you are right, Squire.” She touched her heart and brought up a glowing hand to light the way and I followed her into the building’s darkness while she chased it away.

          As we descended it began to grow hot. It felt as though we were entering the depths of Hell itself. I might have been more scared if I hadn’t come from here just a few minutes ago, the only fear I felt was the fear that Paladin Harald might be cross with me for taking so long. “Paladin Harald tells me that you’re the only squire who can call upon Liira’s light,” Lady Serela said suddenly. “That’s impressive for one so young. How old are you, Squire Martin?”

          I thought for a second and then realized that the answer I was about to give was no longer correct, “Twelve,” I said instead, “since yesterday.”

          She was quiet for a time after that. This time the silence was only broken by a scrap of song echoing up from below us. “…And when I get down to that gods-forsaken town…” The voice was chilling. A rough cackle that any paladin or squire of Liira would recognize instantly. I stopped before I even realized Lady Serela had too.

          “Why don’t you show me what you can do then?” Lady Serela asked as though that was the reason we had stopped moving. She had turned to face me, I couldn’t possibly say no. I still had some light fluttering around in my heart since my morning prayers that I hadn’t used yet. I hoped I could impress her with my speed. I reached up to my heart with my right hand and willed the light into my hand, it came away with the same pulsing glow that her own hand held. “Very good,” she congratulated me, “Now do you know how to—” I interrupted her by losing my concentration. My hand flashed with white light for a moment and then was empty.

          “I’m sorry!” I blurted out in nervous embarrassment. “So sorry!”

          “It’s all right,” she reassured me, “it happens to lots of squires when they’re young.” She turned and we continued on our way. I mentally kicked myself then started repeating a mantra in my head to recharge. Prayers spoken out loud were much stronger as a general rule, but I was stubborn and I wanted to get a second chance to impress her before she left. Hearing me muttering prayers under my breath wasn’t likely to impress.

          Liira, shelter this humble child from the dark.

          Liira, shelter this humble child from the dark.

          With each line I felt the merest drop of Liira’s light enter my heart. I just needed a few minutes…

          We turned the corner and we were there. The forge was hotter than I remembered, and brighter. All the stonework around the forge was glowing with an orange inner light and even starting to run in places. The stone was melting.

          I looked again. The stone was melting!

          Paladin Harald was standing off to the side chanting out a prayer to Liira that I could just hear over the singing. He had erected a barrier of shimmering light in front of the forge that was protecting us from the worst of the heat and attempting to hold the forge together. He had finally stripped off his armor and he was drenched in sweat. Dreighton and Jayne were standing on the other side next to the supply of coal and holding their shovels at the ready; I moved next to them to get a word in while Lady Serela talked with Paladin Harald and relieved him of the burden of holding up the barrier. As Lady Serela took over, the barrier doubled in brightness and the heat lessened noticeably.

          “When did you guys stop shoveling?” I asked Jayne in a whisper. She was already taller than me—and better with a mace too—but at least I’d reached Liira’s light before her.

          “Only a minute ago,” she told me, “Harald finally admitted the forge might fall apart if we kept adding fuel.”

          “It’s really creepy,” Dreighton cut in, “I’ve never seen stone melt before. How hot you think it is?” Dreighton was actually a few years older than me and still hadn’t reached Liira’s light. I’d overheard Paladin Harald complaining one night that he would have tossed the boy by now if not for the war. Even spindly boys with no talent qualified as squires these days, it seemed.

          I thought about his question. “Probably hot enough that our clothes would catch fire without that barrier,” I guessed.

          “Very well,” Lady Serela finally announced loud enough for us to hear. “I’ll hold the barrier up while the squires shovel. Paladin Harald, you fetch more coal.”

          Paladin Harald knelt before Lady Serela and opened his mouth to speak—then stopped himself. It had suddenly gotten very quiet. The singing had stopped. I looked nervously at Lady Serela: too scared to look at the source of the singing in the forge. Lady Serela only raised an eyebrow.

          Then a rough cackling laughter replaced the singing. Despite it coming from such a wicked person, the cackles reminded me of the time Paladin Draedn had told the joke about the paladin, the druid and the shadow weaver. I hadn’t understood the punch line but he’d laughed enough for the both of us. I felt my stomach drop at the memory of him.

          I went back to reciting my mantra.

          Liira, shelter this humble child from the dark.

          “Oh, Lady Serela! How nice of you to come and visit,” the voice from within the forge called out. “I was wondering when you were going to show up.”

          Liira, shelter this humble child from the dark.

          A hand reached through the liquid stone until it touched Lady Serela’s barrier, then it wiped the molten stone away like mud on a window. The face that peeked through had a wide smile full of crooked teeth that looked too big for the mouth they’d grown in. “I wanted to thank you for having my restraints removed,” the man said, “they were chafing my wrists. It was really annoying.” More of the stone forge dripped away, revealing two bare-wristed hands of skin so hot it was glowing red.

          The Dark Lord. The Dark Lord was free!

          Liira, shelter this humble child from the dark.

          I could feel a glimmer of light in my heart.

          Lady Serela closed her eyes and whispered a prayer of her own. Her heart began to glow with a softly pulsing light. The light spread out from her chest and enveloped her whole body. It soon dwarfed the light of the fires coming from the forge. She turned toward us and shouted in desperation, “Shovel!”

          Jayne and Dreighton began shoveling coal with a fervor I didn’t know they possessed. I just kind of stood there awkwardly since there were only two shovels. Then, since it seemed like I ought to do something I started grabbing pieces of coal and tossing them into the forge by hand.

          Paladin Harald muttered a prayer and added his own light to the barrier. I wished I could help too, but I didn’t know that particular technique yet. I continued my mantra anyways while I worked, just in case.

          Liira, shelter this humble child from the dark.

          That wretched raspy voice of evil spoke again. “Neero, God of Death, give me your awesome power. Kill the faithless!” the Dark Lord shouted with glee. He brought both of his hands to his heart and pulled them away covered in a boiling purple energy. He thrust his hands towards the barrier violently and a beam of swirling purple light slammed into the barrier and dispersed in a shower of sparks. I actually felt the shockwave from the blast, and then I realized that the barrier was being pushed backwards.

          I stopped tossing coal and grabbed Jayne’s arm just as she was about to thrust her hand through the barrier along with her shovel. Dreighton was not so lucky. Just for a second a few of his finger passed through the wall of light. That was all the Dark Lord needed. His head snapped towards Dreighton and he shot a bolt of purple energy out of his finger that struck Dreighton’s hand. Dreighton was dead before he hit the ground.

          “Dreighton!” Jayne screamed. She tried to reach toward him and I had to hold her back so she didn’t accidentally reach a grasping hand through the barrier and join him. I pulled the two of us back towards the far corner of the room as the wall of light advanced towards us. I looked to Lady Serela and saw she was a merely human-shaped mass of white light by this point. She leaned in against the force of the light she was sending out until the barrier stopped moving backwards.

          The Dark Lord gestured with one curled finger as though calling someone over. Purple energy swirled around his finger, then Dreighton’s body slid over towards him until it was at the mouth of the forge. The Dark Lord climbed out of the forge and flicked his same finger upwards and Dreighton stood with sickly purple eyes.

          “Wow!” the Dark Lord said as he stepped out of the forge. He was naked as a babe. “It’s really cold out here.”

          Nobody responded to his attempt at humor.

          “I mean, I really wasn’t expecting that. Can I borrow your shirt or something?” he asked Dreighton’s body. Dreighton’s clothes were already starting to smoke and his skin was bubbling with blisters from being so close to the forge, but he dutifully took off a shirt and handed it to the Dark Lord just as it was bursting into flames. The Dark Lord gave Dreighton a frown then started rubbing his arms and shivering. He couldn’t actually be cold, could he?

          Lady Serela used the opportunity to cover Paladin Harald in a protective barrier of light. When she finished, Harald charged through the barrier with a cry of, “For Liira!” The Dark Lord gave a lazy gesture with his hand and Dreighton’s body jumped in front of him to fend the paladin off.

          “Tsk, tsk, Serela,” the Dark Lord said. “Always sending others to do your dirty work.” Paladin Harald and the animated corpse of the late Squire Dreighton grappled each other. There was no way Dreighton was in control: for one thing, I’d never seen him move so quick during drills. “Haven’t you realized by now that none of your minions are ever going to be able to hurt me?”

          Dreighton’s body danced in impossible ways, defying gravity and moving faster than any man was capable of—maybe some of the elves, but certainly not a human. When Paladin Harald managed to lop off an arm it continued to dance around in the air and harass him. Rather than help, it only served to make Dreighton’s body that much more flexible. How could this be? Most zombies were so simple-minded… I found my answer: the Dark Lord was wiggling the fingers of both hands like he was playing an instrument.

          The light protecting Paladin Harald was starting to fade. Something had to be done.

          I gathered all the light my little mantra had managed to gather into one hand and called out, “Hey asshole!” As soon as the Dark Lord looked in my direction I let go.

          I let loose a blinding flash of light. It was the only thing I knew how to do.

          Paladin Harald used the distraction to knock Dreighton aside and sliced one of the Dark Lord’s outstretched hands clean off. He looked surprised that he’d managed to do it. The Dark Lord looked surprised as well.

          “That’s not possible!” the Dark Lord shouted. He looked down at the stump where his hand used to be like he couldn’t believe it. As far as I was aware, no weapon had ever managed to harm the Dark Lord. That was why we’d thrown him in a forge in the first place! Paladin Harald had better instincts than me. He immediately pressed his attack and sliced off the Dark Lord’s other hand. Dreighton’s body fell to the ground.

          “You forget,” Lady Serela chimed in, “I am the prophet of Liira. I can talk to the goddess directly. She told me what would happen if you got too hot.” Lady Serela was smiling now, the light that had made her shine bright as a star faded now that its power was no longer needed. She turned to Paladin Harald and said, “Cut off his head.”

          “For Liira!” Paladin Harald shouted. His blade swept out and the Dark Lord’s head tumbled to the floor.

          Then, despite the fact that his head was no longer attached, the Dark Lord let out a laugh. “You think this will stop me?” he raved. “You think that barrier can stop me? I have deeper magics at my command than you could ever dream!” His body, which had continued to stand there all on its own started glowing with a purple energy that radiated out from the chest. A small tornado of swirling purple energy engulfed the Dark Lord’s body. Paladin Harald retreated behind Lady Serela’s barrier and she redoubled her efforts to strengthen it.

          “Lady of Light, I curse you,” the Dark Lord’s head began to chant, “I curse you to die!” A purple mist began to flow through the barrier towards Lady Serela and didn’t seem to care when she blasted it with beams of Liira’s light. “I curse you to die by my hand and no other,” he intoned. “The seas may boil, the Earth may crumble into dust, all your disciples may abandon you but still you will not die. You will die only by my hand. In Neero’s name I curse you!” The purple light washed over Lady Serela and soaked into her. For a moment her serene look of confidence broke and she actually looked afraid. The room went quiet, then… she started laughing.

          “What?” the Dark Lord’s head asked from the ground. “What’s so funny?”

          “Did you just curse me with immortality?” Lady Serela asked.

          “Well not exactly,” the Dark Lord’s head said, “I cursed you to die only by my hand. Now you can’t die until I kill you.”

          “Unless I kill you first,” she countered.

          “No,” he shot back defensively, “You can’t just kill me first.”

          “Why not?”

          “Because of the curse.”

          They were quiet for a moment, then Lady Serela said, “I’m pretty sure that any magics you’ve wrought die when you die, curse or otherwise.”

          “Sure,” the Dark Lord’s head admitted, “but how could you die by my hand if I’m dead? I’m pretty sure I have to be alive in order to kill you.”

          “Then we’re agreed,” Lady Serela said easily, “killing you will break the curse.”

          “What?” the Dark Lord said indignantly, “No, I’m not agreeing with you about anything.” He then tried to scowl menacingly but the effect was somewhat diminished by the fact that his head was laying on its side.

          Jayne and I shared a look that said, “Are you hearing this?” without any words.

          “My Lady,” Paladin Harald cut in, “Shall I destroy his heart?”

          Lady Serela seemed to consider his question for a moment. She tapped a finger on her chin. “No,” she told him. “Actually, I think I have a better idea.”

[END OF PROLOGUE]

          **Okay, that's the prologue for Getting a Head. I hope you liked it. Below I will write up the elevator pitch in bold which will give more of the details of where this story is going to go. The plan is for the all the details in the pitch to be covered between the prologue and Chapter 1, so don't think of anything as being too "spoilery." Please keep in mind this is just a draft of the real prologue, I will probably have to go back and punch up the imagery in a few places before finalizing it. And try to be forgiving of any typos. I didn't catch any, but if anyone else did, please let me know!

          Pitch: Lady Serela is the prophet to the Goddess of Light and Justice, Liira. Martin has served as her faithful Paladin his entire life. He was there when the Dark Lord cursed Lady Serela with immortality before being defeated. He was also there when she decided to keep the necromancer alive to preserve that curse. Pieces of the Dark Lord's undying body have been sealed away with Liira's light and scattered to the far reaches of the continent. As long as he lives, so too lives Lady Serela's curse.

          When his Lady begins acting strangely and building up an army much like the Dark Lord before her, Martin can see only one path forward: destroy the Dark Lord once and for all and break the curse. He will defy his Lady's own orders to save her from becoming the very monster she once defeated.

          Will she allow Martin to break the curse that is keeping her immortal? Will collecting the pieces of the Dark Lord's body unwittingly bring his evil back into the world? And is his severed head still capable of talking? What? No! Of course not! And be quiet, nobody was talking to you.

          This is going to be a long journey...

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