Legends of Ethshar

Ethshar and the Northern Empire have been at war for hundreds of years. Hardly anyone alive remembers why, or over what. The tempest, turmoil, and war are endless, and the killing more endless still. The war has become not just a way of life, but an institution; no one dares to dream that it could end. Not even Valder of Kardoret, Ethsharitic Scout, trapped behind enemy lines. But now everything has changed: at a moment of great need, a hermit wizard crafted Valder a magic sword called Wirikidor--a blade at once cursed and enchanted, a misenchanted blade that makes him unbeatable.

Tobas had been lucky to find a wizard to take him on as apprentice. But then the wizard died suddenly and unexpectedly after teaching Tobas only a solitary spell, and the youth was too old to find a new master. How could he earn a living when all the magic he could do was light fires?

When the foreigners confronted Sterren in Ethshar of the Spices, he was uneasy; when they all but abducted him, taking him to an obscure kingdom in the south, he knew he was in a terrible predicament. A predicament some might actually find appealing--he was by heredity the Ninth Warlord of Semma, least of the small kingdoms; he was a noble, and his rank afforded him material privileges, even in a place as insignificant and obscure as Semma. But the office also carried certain terrible responsibilities: he was to win the war the stupid King had stirred up by his arrogance. Two larger and stronger Kingdoms were preparing to invade Semma. And if the country lost, the first thing likely to be forfeit was the life of the Warlord. And if it won ... if it won, the fate and shape of Ethshar would change forever. For deep in the south there are secrets of magic not even Sterren can imagine.

Every wizard in Ethshar knew that if you needed something special, something difficult to find, that Gresh the Supplier was the man to see. He was expensive, but always delivered. So when the Wizards' Guild finally got fed up with the little green nuisances that called themselves "spriggans," the Guild hired Gresh to fetch them the magic mirror that created the troublesome imps. The wizards thought finding it looked impossible. Gresh thought his methods would do the job. But no one had asked the spriggans what they thought!