NEW RELEASE!!!

THERE BE DRAGONS!!!
It's here! The prequel to the Rawn Chronicles is now available on Kindle and paperback at Amazon

Please follow the link below...

https://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=Dragor-rix&rh=i%3Aaps%2Ck%3ADragor-rix

Dragor-rix and other short stories from the Rawn Sagas.

It is just about ready. The prequel to the Rawn Chronicles will soon be published.

keep tuned for updates.

 

 

 

 

Spoiler #2

Poetry Corner.

Dragor-rix The War of the Twelve Dragons.

For nigh on four hundred years the terrible war against the Sept of Red ended with the fall of the Ancanthi and Jarrod the Red.

 Two hundred and thirty four years later, the bard Herodotus took a further twenty years to put together his 52,000 line strophic poetic epic by sifting through the many academic parchments of Rogan and Vallkyte scholars. Some were tales passed down by word of mouth while others were first-hand accounts written by the priest of the Rogal and Derma Ken present at the many battles that saturated this disruptive period in history.

Below is a recounting of the last great battle of the Dragor-rix, Greentree, where Jarrod the Red met Norin Cromme as he wielded the Dragonlance, Caphil, and where the great warlord brought an end to the Acanthi horde.

Ironically, Herodotus took this poem from the Annals of Almeria where the tithes of the Gardenal Shrine of the Oracle spoke of the Acanthi Shako Shamans recounting of the battle in their native tongue.

 Herodotus renamed it, The Battle Woe.

 

The Warlords raise their glasses to toast

Promising to find the courage that once was lost

Reminiscing with old scores to settle

Bring about the flame that burns the metal

Watch the talons score the shield

Warriors conquered, yet never yield

Cries without

Oh the Battle Woe

 

The dragons glide over their banquet hall

The host quakes at their clarion call

One defies the Lords of Flame

He holds aloft that spear which bears his name

Grievously wounding flesh and pride

He renders them helpless enough to hide

Cries without

Oh the Battle Woe

 

Caphil burns with anger and pain

The slaughtered lie along the plain

Green Tree Forest rips asunder

Elements boil with glorious thunder

Norin lifts the Dragonlance high

Show them all their end is nigh

Cries without

Oh the Battle Woe

 

Oh the Battle Woe

From the Dragor-rix

By Herodotus