“This is futile,” said Catastrophe, the Glass Blade. It hung from its scabbard on the saddlebow, since the prince could hardly be expected to wear it just now.
Prince Ailu, perched somewhat precariously on his saddle, licked a paw and preened his whiskers. “I don’t see what’s so hard about this. I’m a prince, the third of three sons, bearing a magic sword and laboring under a terrible curse. I’m a natural choice for the quest. Princess Lazica is as good as rescued.”
“The Dark Lord would likely be more concerned if his sworn foe had opposable thumbs,” said Catastrophe.
Posts
Shared Storytelling: Advent Ghosts 2024
2 days ago
No comments:
Post a Comment