Poem A Day: Wyvernswift Gnomes—Gnomish Drinking song

Ganymede and his mount,
Tore the witch from the sky,
And dropped her on the stones.
Thunderhaven shall stand free,
Not bend on its knee.
Tyrosis must run home.

Good gnomes, one and all,
The throne has its king.
Good gnomes, bards and guards,
Always standing free.

The war has gone,
Not all survived,
The wyverns are in the skies.
With ruin and shame,
Our lands have been maimed.
It is ours to heal.

Good gnomes, one and all,
The throne has its king.
Good gnomes, bards and guards,
Always standing free.

The price has been paid,
Empty the Mithril Throne,
Till a new king is crowned.
Pay heed Ganymede,
Vaqqed the king,
They rule eternity.

Good gnomes, one and all,
The throne has its king.
Good gnomes, bards and guards,
Always standing free.

***Author’s Note***
If anybody can guess the tune this song is written too then you’ll get a signed copy of Cold Lunch. First come first serve.

If you enjoyed your daily dose of Kinsgrove please feel free to check out my other blog on Medium. Also stop by my Facebook page and give me a like. This will keep you hooked up to the up to the minute Kinsgrove news. It’s almost as much news as you’d get if you followed us on Twitter, Tumblr, and Instagram. And don’t pass up the opportunity on awesome prizes, exclusive content, and more me than you can stand, sign up for the Kinsgrovian Press now. Next to last, if you haven’t noticed the celebration, my debut novel was recently published, click this conveniently placed link to check out Cold Lunch and see exactly what happens when you piss off the most powerful vampire in the world. And, I promise I’ll shut up after this, I just wanted to ask, if you really enjoyed the content think about liking and sharing the content on all your social media channels.


Quora Questions Answered: Were Dragons Real

The answer to this question is subjective. If you were to ask one hundred people what the answer was and how did they come to that conclusion you would get one hundred different answers. So, what I’m going to is present you with mine.

Were dragons real? Yes, they were.

How were they real, where’s the evidence of their existence? The answer is all around you, metaphorically speaking.


How many  times do dragons appear in fantasy literature? You’d be lacking a little intellect if you didn’t say a lot. A whole hell of a lot. Tolkien, Martin, Salvatore, McCaffrey, Showalter, and the list goes on and on. Each of them presenting a different take on the dragon, and they are doing much the same thing as our ancestors when they came into direct contact with the creature.

For a little more concrete evidence we’ll add classical literature to our answer, myths and legends that date back to the earliest point of recorded history. Dragons appear in every culture’s mythos. In Medieval Europe we have the most famous interpretation of the dragon, with four legs and two wings. In China you have sea-serpent like dragons. They could fly due to magical powers, and each had some form of element incorporated into its existence. In Aztec and Mayan cultures dragons were revered as gods with Quetzalcoatl (meaning feathered serpent) standing above all others. In Egyptian mythology dragons were also revered as gods with Apep appearing “as a terrifying sea-serpent” (“Ancient Egypt-Valley of Dragons”). The Piasa or Piasa Bird is the noted Native American equivalent of the dragon.

Now ask yourself, how’s it possible that these creatures appear in the myths and legends of civilizations that had absolutely no contact with the other at the time of inception?


Statistically speaking, they were real. Living human beings interacted and worshipped these beasts (most of whom are said to be more intelligent than any other animal, some even say they surpassed human intelligence). They were a part of our society guiding us in a direction that suited them, and likely they build great civilizations around these dragons. Take Atlantis as the most likely representation of these civilization now wholly lost to time.

Now, let’s add to those statistics. The ocean covers 70% of the earth. How much of the ocean floor has been mapped? Answer: 5% That leaves 65% that we have no idea of what’s living there. We know more about the surface of Mars than we do about our own.

Plus, we don’t know jack about the fifth largest continent on the planet, Antarctica. We know about the desert like conditions across much of its surface, we know that Antarctica has the absolute worst weather on the planet with some circumstance bad enough to freeze you solid in minutes. But, what’s beneath the 1.2 miles of ice? There is a whole world down there as foreign to us as the surface of Mars is. What is waiting to be discovered? What kind of civilizations were there? What bones will be found? What creatures will they be adding to the fossil records?

Dragons will be one of them.


There are other topics we could discuss here relating to the existence of dragons. But, for the sake of brevity I’m going to link to another one of my answers for this sort of topic. Do Dragons Exist?



Also feel free to check out my blogs at Medium and WordPress, the focus of those right now is posting these answers there, but I do other things like short stories and poetry. If you want to keep up with all the Kinsgrove related news feel free to sign up for the Kinsgrovian Press. And, as one final note, I’ve got a book for sale. It’s a horror novel with a touch of urban fantasy. If you want to check it out here is a conveniently placed link.


Image Credit: https://www.channelfireball.com

Quora Questions Answered: Do Dragon’s Exist?

Do Dragons Exist?

The answer to this question depends wholly on your point of view.

Existing in the real world:

I think it’s entirely possible that some form of mythological dragon exists. This isn’t based on hard evidence so much as how little we know about the world. Only about 5% of the ocean floors have been mapped. The ocean takes up 70% of the earth’s surface. So, who’s to say there isn’t a creature that would fit the description of a mythological dragon.

Another possibility is that they existed, but have gone extinct. Where’s the evidence? We’ve got dinosaur bones all over, but nothing that looks like a dragon. Where is the evidence? We’re looking in the wrong place. Antarctica is the fifth largest continent on the planet, covered by 1.2 miles of ice. What we know about Antarctica measures out to the same amount as the oceans. We don’t know what’s buried under the ice. We probably won’t in our lifetime, but one day we’ll find a whole other world on that continent.

Existing in the Metaphysical:

For this one there are a couple of other things you need to believe in.

The metaphysical, of course. This belief includes but isn’t limited to: God, gods and goddesses, angels, an afterlife be it heaven or hell or one of any other interpretations, reincarnation, past lives, and a multitude of other things.

How do dragons fit it?

Once dragons were living breathing beings, revered as gods and just as powerful. But some calamity happened, and it wiped the dragons out. Their magical essence remained. These dragon ghosts (for lack of a better term) saw humans as a way to potentially revive their race. They bound their essence to a human soul, and in that soul they laid an egg. They knew the eggs would never hatch in one human’s lifetime, but if it had a hundred or a thousand human lifetimes it would grow, mature, and hatch, and if that human was ready and willing then the dragon could manifest and become real again.

So, the dragon souls remained with the humans their egg was bound to. They go through this process each time that person’s soul is reincarnated, hoping to one day find the right variation of that soul and see their children’s wings spread wide.
A final note, when the dragons bound their souls to the humans there was a very finite number of humans. Not the roughly 9 billion souls there are now. So, the souls bearing the dragon eggs are flung far and wide, with maybe 1 in every 100,000 people gifted with the egg.

That’s just part of my belief system anyway.

How they currently exist:

Dragons of myth and legend exist just as much today as they did in the days of yore. They exist as part of these stories that have been handed down from generation to generation, and now they’ve engrained themselves into pop culture. Try finding someone who doesn’t know what a dragon is. I bet you the task will be next to impossible.

So, that’s how dragons exist. Just like our loved ones who have passed on, dragons are eternal so long as there’s one person that can speak the word.

**Author’s Note**

Just released my first novel, Cold Lunch. Check that out over at Amazon.com and if you buy it and like it leave a review for me.

Also, you can keep up with me if you join the Kinsgrovian Press. Trying to work out what would be some cool things to do with that. Any suggestions would be much appreciated.


Image Credit: http://monster.wikia.com/wiki/Dragon


Breaking the Unbreakable

Thought I’d post the first section of a story I’m working on for submission to a fantasy anthology. Now, not to interfere with rights and what not I won’t be posting the whole story, but here’s a little taste 🙂

***Breaking the Unbreakable***

“Nostalgia?” Arcedh’s paper thin voice cut through the turmoil wrapping Rolant Quinn’s mind. The Unbreakable, as he was known, turned to look at the priest. The priest was skeletally thin and wrapped up in robes and cloth so only his eyes were visible. Not that it seemed to matter much in the priest’s case as both eyes were milky white orbs. Arcedh never had an issue seeing though, and more often then not he saw far more than any other man Rolant had met. A gift of Theosis no doubt.

“You know me well,” Rolant said, his voice rasping. He looked away from the priest, out over the wide grassy plain. He focused on the walled city far to the west. “Halsaland, I was born there. Raised in the church after my parents passed in the plague. I accepted the gifts of Theosis and pledged my life to his eternal service in the chapel in the town square.”

“You will not hesitate, when the time comes?” It was more of a command than a question.

Rolant shifted his weight on the warhorse’s back. The plates of his armor gave audible evidence to his every move. “There is no doubt then? The scouts have reported back in?”

“Yes,” Arcedh said. “The force we met two days past was out of Halsaland. You saw them, they bore the Broken Horn standard. They serve the House of Duskgem.”

“Yes,” Rolant said. “But, I had hoped…”

“Hope,” Arcedh said, spitting the word out. We are not in the business of hope. Only
heretics and betrayers stand against us on the field of battle, and it is the will of Theosis that they be cast down.”

“So be it then,” Rolant said. He snapped the visor shut on his aged and dented iron helm. All his armor matched it. Once, years ago, it gleamed as bright as steel, but as it had been with the man, nothing remained perfect and pure. Age and war marked everything.

Tugging on the reins Rolant faced his army; fifty cavalry, five thousand heavy infantry, and one thousand archers. “Today I come home, only to find they’d turned their backs upon Theosis. Our one true god stands tall, yet they choose to kneel and scrape with the pagan masses. Today we shall purge the land of their filth.” He drew his sword and raised the steel blade high above his head. “Today we retake Halsaland for Theosis!”
The gathered army cheered, hoisting their weapons tot he sky, pledging their blades to Theosis.

Rolant looked his army over, his lips twitching into a smile. Pride burning in his chest. But… Something… Something was out of place. He knew his army, the role every man filled, yet today it seemed larger, as though another thousand men had joined in the night. He pushed the disquiet to the back of his mind. There it stayed, refusing to go away.

“After you my lord,” Arcedh said motioning toward Halsaland.

“Forward march!” Rolant cried out. His standard bearers echoed his call with clarion blasts from their horns.

The army began to move. Halsaland’s fate was sealed.

***Author’s Note***

9 days left to Cold Lunch.

And, if you enjoyed all this and don’t want to miss out on one ounce of Kinsgrove news consider joining my mailing list.


*Image Credit: Vladmir Buchyk @ artstation.com



This is dedicated to the most wonderful wife a guy could ask for.

I love you Melanie Smith. 

You are my cupcake,
My only cupcake.

You make me happy like only a cupcake can.

You’ll never know dear,

How much I love you,

Please don’t take my cupcake away.

And now to note, my cupcake is the subject of my dedication page in Cold Lunch. And segwaying into Cold Lunch, my first ever self published novel will be out on May 1st. 
On that note, count your coppers and keep your rings close, you’ll want them easily at hand when it comes time to buy what is going to be one of the best Horror/Urban Fantasy novel of 2017.


Super Sonnet Sunday/Poem a Day: In the Dark

In the dark,
The elf has no heart,
He isn’t here for a lark,
He is going to tear you apart.


His swords drip,
Saturated by blood,
He will rip,
And, rush through like a flood.


Fear is crawling up your back,
Waiting for his attack,
All you see is naught but black,
There is no time to retract.


I see shifting shadows in the dark,
The Raven Stone will sink the ark.


***Author’s Note***

I thought I would write a poem to accompany my short story. I certainly like the way it turned out.

Found image on Pintrest, but I’m not sure who to credit it too.

And, speaking of my short story, if you missed In the Dark here’s a conveniently placed link.


Short Story Saturday: In the Dark

So, it’s Saturday. My poem has already posted, but I figured why not post twice today. It is Saturday after all, and I haven’t posted a short story in a little while. And, a little celebration is in order. Not because of the inauguration, but because in the last two weeks I’ve written and submitted a short story for potential publication, and I’ve got probably a hundred pages closer to getting my first novel published. To celebrate all this then, here is my first ever professionally published short story. Published in the Mountain Mysts anthology, which got an Honorary Mention at the London Book Festival. Now, I’m not implying my story played a big role in that… but my ego likes to think so. XD


In the Dark


“Hello,” the word died in the dark even as it left Nightshade’s lips. A saber was clenched tight in each hand. In his native world he’d been a master at fighting with two blades. In this world, however, the sabers felt clumsy with poor balance between the hilt and the blade. One of them had an ornate hand and cross guard, it had gemstones and gold and silver filigree covering nearly every inch of it; this was the one with the worst balance. The other was plain Jane and practical with an iron cross guard and a band of iron folded down over the sword’s grip.

“What’chu make of ‘im, Jed?” a voice came from the dark. Three forms slipped into the very edge of the light spilling from Nightshade’s campfire. Nightshade shifted his weight just a tick, putting it over his back leg. He was ready to spring when the time came.

“His skin’s as black as midnight,” another voice called, the one on the far left. “You recon he’s a slave escaped from his poor master? That one blade of his is pretty enough to hang on ol’ Dale Harliss’s wall. Might be he actually took it from that wall.”

“You’re both daft,” Jed said, the big one in the middle. He was holding a long iron stick with a sort of wood stock at the back. It was unlike anything Nightshade had ever seen, and the way Jed kept it angled towards the ground, Nightshade suspected it was dangerous.

“We got ourselves somethin’ real nice and special here,” Jed said. “We got ourselves an elf.”

“Quit playin’ Jed,” the first voice said again. “He’s just a jiggaboo, he ain’t no fairy tale. Fairy tales ain’t real.”

“Then what was that bright flash a light we saw?” Jed said. “It was green, Quince. I ain’t never seen a green flash before.”

“It coulda been lightning,” Quince said. “Ain’t that right Roddy?”

“Ain’t never seen no flash of lightning like that,” Roddy said.

It took a minute for Nightshade to catch up to what they were saying. They were speaking common, and he thanked sol for that, but it was a strange sort of common, a dialect closer to the way dwarves talk.

He shoved the thoughts to the back. He might be able to place himself by the way they were talking, but the talk of the green flash intrigued him. He had been born into this world in a great green wave of arcane energy which might appear as a flash of light to a layman.

Nightshade had chosen to come to this world that much was true. Supposedly he had a mission to complete for the Academy Arcane. They were waiting for him to signal his mission was a success so they could bring him back over. Nightshade had no intention of returning. He came here to escape persecution, the kind that killed his kind on sight should they walk upon the surface.

Now it seemed he was a curiosity to these men. A fact which did not bode well for them.

“It was not lightning,” Nightshade said in perfect common.

“It speaks English,” Jed said, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.

“I am a he, not an it,” Nightshade said. “I have a name, and I am a member of a royal family. You will address me as His Highness Prince Adnon of the House of Nightshade.”

A little white lie, maybe, but it was one these fools could never check up on.

“His Highness Prince Adnon,” Quince said and spit. “Well, princey boy, you be in the wrong part of the world for any respect of royalty.”

“You’re in Virginia now,” Roddy said. “A state standing proud in the Confederate States of America, and we don’t cow toe to no king.”

“Come on, Jed,” Quince said. “If he’s an elf, and a jiggaboo elf at that, let’s take ‘im over Richmond way, and see what kinda change we can get for him.”

“I dunno,” Jed said. His eyes had never wavered from Nightshade. He looked entranced, but Nightshade knew he had no powers which could capture a human mind. At least he hadn’t such power back in his native realm.

“Come on, Jed,” Quince said again. “All he’s got is a pair of pig stickers. He can’t do us no harm.”

Jed still didn’t look sure of his decision, but his hands tightened on the iron stick and he brought it up to point at Nightshade.

Nightshade noticed the hole in the middle of the stick, making it some sort of barrel. He tightened his grip on the blades and readied himself for action.

“You’ll wanna put those pig stickers down,” Roddy said as he pulled a similar iron stick from a holster on his hip. This one was no bigger than a wizard’s magic wand.

“We’d hate to have ta shoot ya,” Quince said. He also drew and iron stick. “Ya wouldn’t be worth near as much damaged… or dead.”

“We oughta kill him,” Jed said. “He might be worth something as a slave, but he’d be worth more to one of those travelin’ freak shows. Even if he’s dead.”

Slave and freak show and dad, none of those were near at all what he expected from this world. There was supposed to be freedom here, no persecution based on his skin color. What he’d learned from the wizards was wrong. It was so wrong. He would go back and make them pay for their lies.

These three would need to be dealt with first, however.

He thought about thanking them for a moment, before he killed them. Thank them for showing him the truth of this world and making his stay blessedly short. He tightened his grips, and he charged, letting forth a great battle cry.

Jed, Quince, and Roddy raised their iron sticks as one and fire flew from the ends. The three projectiles struck Nightshade right in the middle. Each one blew out his back; one nipping his spinal cord, with the others shredding his lungs and piercing his heart.

Nightshade stood for a moment. He dropped his swords and brought one hand up to his chest. He looked at the blood there, astonished. How could they beat him? He was a weapon master where he came from… They were bumpkins… How could they beat him?

The dark elf tipped backwards, his legs giving way, and he came down on his back hard.

With eyes quickly glazing over he watched as Jed, Quince, and Roddy stalked around to marvel over their kill.

“It was supposed to be better here,” Nightshade said, his lips covered in blood.

“Bub,” Jed said, leaning down beside the elf. “Don’t you know we’re at war? This world is as full of shit as the next.”

Nightshade let out one last shuddering breath and fell still. The darkness that had first greeted him on arrival into this world wrapped its arms around him and he knew no more.



The End

This also serves as the starting point for one of my story series. Well, it’s the inspiration behind it anyway. I’ve got a first draft of The Raven Stone: In the Dark floating around, and its an expansion of this story going into how Adnon was brought into our world and how he comes to meet his grisly end at the hands of Jed, Quince, and Roddy. Take comfort in the fact that this death is not truly the end of Adnon’s story. No, it’s only the beginning. His story will continue in The Raven Stone Quadrilogy.


Image credit goes to Helmuttt from DeviantArt.