Riffs, Rogues, and Rivals (Epics and Elsewhere Book 3) by David Partelow

Author:David Partelow [Partelow, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-10-19T16:00:00+00:00

-8-

No fun storming

the castle

Having traveled a long span, Percival Pratchet now stood before the Fellstorm Castle, the very heart of Myriado. The bard, adorned in a hastily acquired green cloak (Some would say stolen, Percival would say merely borrowed for an extended duration.), looked upon the elegant castle as people came and went around him. Castle Fellstorm elicited awe from many that laid eyes upon it, sometimes even stealing their very breath at first sight. For the elven stronghold was indeed a bastion of light, elegance, and prosperity.

And currently the whole affair was making Percival quite nauseous.

The castle’s white walls and ramparts spanning before the bard nearly glistened in the sunlight. Towers rose like spires about the tremendously large estate, for it was indeed clear the place was a haven of plenty. In the heart of the affair was the biggest keep Percival had ever gazed upon. An elegant bridge carried out to the castle, which rested over a haze of waterfalls down into a canyon and river below.

Of course, there were rich waterfalls. What elven kingdom would be complete without some richly resplendent and overly extravagant tribute to nature?

Elves.

Percival looked about as he traversed slowly across the long bridge of stout oak and stone. The craftsmanship was unparalleled, and Percival may have been impressed had he not been tired, annoyed, and currently lobbying for his life. The whole affair was a dour damper on the bard. He wanted nothing more than to be back in Elsewhere nursing a wonderful tankard of mead. And yet, here he was, in an unfamiliar land of splendor, the territory of his rival who held an army that would kill him without hesitation, and a populace that would do the same for the coin. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair.

And that, of course, was the story of Percival’s life.

Clearing the bridge, Percival ventured inside of the castle, exploring the opulence that swelled around him. The bard was pleased to see that the races that called the castle home were well cared for. That made him hate the king just a little less. And there were enough races within the walls that Percival could not see any persecution present. These things made the kingdom of Myriado a bit easier to swallow. Maybe the king was a fair elf, who in fact loved his people and cared for them well.

The king could still be a dick, but at least he had something going for him.

Time would tell.

As Percival reached the keep, he could see wagons being unloaded. Casks of wine and ale were being delivered, along with troves of foods from across the realm. Percival also saw men and woman adorned with crestless tabards, indicating they were servants hired for an evening of catering. This pleased the bard, for it meant he had a means into the keep. Whistling a happy tune, Percival approached one of the men unloading supplies.

“A wonderful afternoon is it not?” asked Percival to the man.

The man paid him the littlest of mind as he continued his duties.

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