The dream behind Lore of the Underlings, my ongoing epic fantasy series, has ever been to brew up a yummy yet heady kind of grog — with a swig of a saga like Harry Potter just swimming in magical wit and whimsy, and a swirl of the lyrical luxury that one might hear from the era of Shakespeare.
Now I’m neither J.K. Rowling nor Bard, but I’ve managed to pour a few tankards.
So here’s a wee drink. See what you think. A sip from Episode 3 of the Lore. (And if that’s As You Like It, you can have more!)
The Eight arrived on a glorious day and were greeted with gifts and spiced sweets. A line of young maidens beckoned them on, onto a path of petals pink, and sprayed them with fragrant perfume as they passed. So here they left their protectors behind. They came to a field of wild plume in bloom and a table set beyond their dreams. Platters replete with succulent meats, rare delicacies and decadent treats, dish after tempting dish, each more sumptuous than the next, and mugglets of pure silver pom wine to drink. At the head, the white-bearded Semperor himself, who stood with welcoming warmth and wide arms. “My children, precious people, how good you would come. Please…” He motioned for them to be seated.