the smuggler’s bible


Zalthrontagor, the second sword of the unblemished frozen queen, hurtles headlong through the icy mists of the Winterslime forest. His step is fleet and sure. There are insults to be redressed and vengeances to be visited upon the heads of fools.

“HALT!” The single word rings out, echoing like the roar of a—Look, I don’t know if I can do this. I’m sorry, but it is complete nonsense.

It’s good. Keep going.

You think people will like it?

Doesn’t matter. If we can get an action figure and a slice of merchandising, this thing is a lock. Now read.