Epic Heroic Fantasy Published Saturday, June 13

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First, the Bridge

It was the next three incoming loads, soaring over the river from the enemy force, that decided the whole event – the high-flying mass was timed to perfection, exploding at the height of the roofs, flattening a dozen troops and two buildings, setting fire to two more.

Two more salvos from the lance-firer on the far end of the bridge were devastating – both laden with the huge lances, but tipped with fire paste, seeming to come alight in the air as they swooped above the length of the bridge, one crashing into the lead barricade wagon and firing it instantly, choking fumes everywhere.

‘I thought Lord Rogor banned the black powder in the Rangelands.,' Kyre muttered. 'Don’t the Aits know?’ The cold look could have killed as effectively as the giant arrows, or the fires all around them. Another five lances were soon arcing towards them, also with fire paste… two with small kegs of black powder on the tip.

'I'll have to do something about this.'

Unsheathing his falchion sword, he took the inward breath, and held it...

"A new intimacy and brutality; scale and dimension in Epic Fantasy"