Disenchanted (Land of Dis)
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Robert Kroese’s Disenchanted comes fully loaded with the wit and charm of The Princess Bride and a sense of humor all its own. This clever take on the traditional fantasy includes footnotes that keep the narrator honest, a cast of characters that resembles something out of the Island of Misfit Toys, and a fantastic setting filled with words and names that test pronunciation skills.
Being assassinated doesn't have many upsides, so when King Boric is felled by a traitor, the king comforts himself with the knowledge that, like all great warriors, he will spend eternity carousing in the Hall of Avandoor. There's just one problem: to claim his heavenly reward, Boric must release the enchanted sword of Brakslaagt.
Now, to avoid being cursed to walk the land of Dis forever as an undead wraith, he must hunt down the mysterious Lord Brand who gave him the sword twenty years ago. So begins Boric's extraordinary journey across the Six Kingdoms of Dis, a walking corpse who wants nothing more than to be disenchanted and left in peace. Along the way he's advised by the Witch of Twyllic, mocked by the threfelings of New Threfelton, burned, shot at, and nearly blown to bits. But nothing can prepare him for coming face-to-face with Lord Brand. For in that moment, Boric discovers that nothing—in life, in death, or in between—is exactly what it seems.
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An ogre might never have figured out how to create an incredibly effective weapon by securing a rope to a five-hundred-pound chunk of stone, but by Grovlik, an ogre knew what to do with such a thing when it was presented to him. And that’s why the ogre smiled. Boric got to his feet and brushed the dust off his tunic, glaring defiantly at the ogre. If he was going to die, he was going to die like a man. The ogre wrapped the silvery elven cord around his wrist several times and pulled. The
piercing Boric’s skull. As much as he hated running from a fight, he didn’t dare remain in the open any longer. He sheathed his sword and ran, reaching the grove just as the sun broke the horizon. Boric sat down with his back against the trunk of the tree, wrapping his cape around him to ward off the light filtering through the thick canopy of leaves. Boric found himself again wishing he were capable of sleep, but the corollary of being immune to exhaustion was the inability to escape his
price of Peraltia’s loyalty at present was neither pumice nor gold, but rather the hand of Princess Urgulana, who was widely regarded as the most unattractive princess since records of such things started being kept. Even Princess Stugnafska of Avaress, whose bust had been mislabeled as “Gurthan the Goblin King” in the Royal Museum for three hundred years without anyone noticing, is thought to have been quite a looker compared to Urgulana. Up until recently, it had been widely assumed that Prince
monarchy by default. Goric underestimated Yoric’s cowardice, however; Yoric’s only response was to attempt to assassinate Boric, the only one of Toric’s sons who was actually brave and motivated enough to take on an ogre. Boric anticipated this move, escaped the assassination attempt, and made his way south to find the ogre. Boric, who was only eighteen years old at the time, left on his horse early one morning and traveled south along the main road until nightfall, stopping at the village of
friend,” bellowed the blacksmith, slapping the merchant on the back. “You’ll be our guide. And I shall be Prince Corbet’s second in command. We’ll find this brute and cut out his liver, by Varnoth!” With this, he hoisted his flagon, raining beer on several nearby patrons. “Pardon my friend,” said the merchant. “He’s had quite a lot to drink this evening. He doesn’t know what he is saying.” “Quite all right,” said the prince. “I admire his enthusiasm. You know, I had intended to hunt the ogre