Sir Christian de Galis and the Fish Gravy

Volume I of the Quest of Sir Christian

The worst choice is sometimes the best choice. Such was the case of Sir Christian de Galis, for thirty-plus years the absolute worst choice to do anything in his particular kingdom. Jesters told jokes about him. Heroes avoided him. Bullies humiliated him. The king got real tired of having him around. What suddenly made him the best choice to go on a quest with the kingdom’s scariest lady who looked harmless? As Sir Christian rode to the rescue of the lady’s grandson with her equally scary-yet-zany retinue—an ancient archer with more disabilities than arrows, a loquacious niece with the realm’s longest first-name, and a nephew with a speech defect and bad hair—an even scarier fact slowly dawned on him: This grandson didn’t need rescue from anything, and the true object of the quest was him and his sudden, prayerful discovery of his father’s long-lost substance of great power. Disguised as a food condiment—that blows up, burns up, or makes people sick, depending how you add sugar—it had the most innocent sounding name. Yet upon such might depend the survival of the kingdom.

Sir Christian de Galis and the Raiders of the Lost Gravy

Volume II of the Quest of Sir Christian

The worst choice continues to be the best choice as the zaniest crew ever collected to save a kingdom, are looking for a few good raiders. Hordes are recruited, but the only ones included in the hilarious rescue of Britta’s grandson (from whom pirates and monsters may need to be rescued) are a pacifistic squire with the world’s most dangerous laundry soap, an unknown bard with a voice that would make the Monster-of-Unheard-of-Savageness run for its life, and a trio of bears that can pulverize a castle—but only to get a few good berries.

Meantime everyone in the region needs rescue from the locust-like mob of mercenaries, thugs, bandits, cut-throats, dispossessed knights, maniacs, midgets who are too tall, giants who are too short and greedy peasants who are just too greedy, chasing Sir Christian to an ever-expanding camp of even greedier Saxon pirates. If that wasn’t enough to make the kingdom’s last-place knight fall on his knees in prayer to Jesu, there is evidence of something worse. Some of the raiders may know the secret discovered by Sir Christian’s father.

Disguised as a food condiment that blows up, burns up, or makes people sick depending how you add sugar, it has the most innocent sounding name. But on such may depend the future of the kingdom, the world, or even the universe.