The Age of Leonard
In a great hall, a king lounges in his throne.
From the shadows appears a cloaked man with a glowing flask.
“Sire, I made you a potion that will give you all the luck and insight you need to win the war with the Dugnons,” says a man with dark, sunken eyes. He approaches the king with his bottle of shining red. The king sighs.
“YO!” says a voice. Someone kicks the door open and causes the man to drop his potion. It shatters on the castle’s stone floor and the bright red liquid dims. “I’m back, baby! I slayed like 3 dragons and fucked like 27 maidens!”
“My strong boy is back!” says the king. He grips the arms of his throne. “Sit, Henry, boy, sit. Tell me of your conquests!”
“Father,” says the dark-eyed man. “I spent a twin span making that potion. It would have guaranteed victory…” He looms over the wet spot like a dog that had an accident.
“Aw, Leonard, you’re always making shit like that. It’s not as fun as KICKIN’ ASS,” Henry says. His armor is conveniently sleeveless to reveal his massive biceps. He does a secret handshake with the king, who boyishly tries to remember it all, giggling.
Leonard flexes his long jaw. “Our people are dying.”
“My clever son,” says the king, calming. “I don’t mean to dismiss you, but your brother is…
