Book One:         The Swamp Crusade

The setting:

The kingdom of Palmyra sits as the central kingdom in the lands of Decarros. She is still enjoying a time of peace having established allies in the west; The Plains Federation, and the elf kingdom of the Ozark Republic. The Dwarf kingdom to the south, Burrin, is also an ally. And though Kimmins, in the east, had broken off in a rebellion which split the kingdom, they are now at peace and enjoy a mutual trust. Only Fentress, to the north, is a worry; but as long as trade flows through the Palmyran Bay, that kingdom is calm.

Within her borders however, lies the Black Swamp, home to the Ogres, longtime allies of the Dark Wizard who wars on the Dwarves from his fortress in the City of Flame. The ogres have long been a problem for Palmyra. King Richard, at the height of his reign failed to exterminate the ogres during the great Swamp Crusade 100 years before the start of our story. Now, as always, ogre youth embark on a mission, their 'Tord' or passage to adulthood, gathering swords from vanquished foes and returning to the swamp. And unfortunately, most often hunting the men of Palmyra.

Stephen (or your hero) grows up in Springtide, but one day an ogre visits his home. As a child of three Stephen did not fear the ogre, and after a breif conversation the young boy pushes the beast out the door. Of course the nine foot tall beast allowed it to happen, but Stephen didn't know that. His father, having witnessed the event was mortified and eventually left the family to fight a personal crusade against the fell beasts. He made a new home at the southeast edge of the swamp, the most common exit point for the ogres, near South Point.

Our story begins when Stephen is fifteen. Tired of living on his uncle's farm, isolated from his family, he is itching to head off on an adventure. It doesn't help that he possesses a wonderful weapon; a two-handed straight sword that he will eventually discover is named...

KingMaker: Book one

The Swamp Crusade

An exerpt from the story:

(remember, in your book Stephen is changed to the name of your hero)

Standing defiantly, Stephen wiped the blood from his brow. He tossed his broken lance down to his squire, grabbed the next one and quickly moved back to the rail. Blood dripped into his eye, blurring his vision. With his good eye, he saw the lady whose merit he hoped to win. She sat, her colorful scarves blowing around her, hoping he would defeat the champion. A big ugly bear of a fellow, he had dispatched all challengers almost without effort. In their first pass, they both broke lances.

Stephen shook his head to clear his vision. He lowered his lance into position. Digging his heels into his charger, he launched down the runway. Leaning forward, he drove the tip of his weapon square into the champion’s shield. Pain exploded in his arm as the pole shattered. At the same time, he felt the tip of the champion’s lance glance across his shield, but it slid off in front of him and pulled him off his horse.

He landed on his side and mud splashed in his face. Ripping his visor open, he wiped the mud and blood from his eyes. He looked up and heard laughter. He lay still. All around him people laughed. Why?

The champion trudged over, grabbed his shoulder and shook him. “Wake up, you moron.”

“What?” Stephen tried to clear the cobwebs from his head.

“You can’t sleep all day.”

He tried to look around the small room, but something distorted the vision in his right eye. Stephen wiped it with his hand, but that made it worse. He examined his hand. Custard? "You boneheads."

Three boys rolled in laughter.

      Stephen dropped to the floor and found a towel. “That’s not right.”