Rifkin can’t quite believe what he’d just saw… Who he just seen. That was Quinn… ‘The Mighty Quinn’! Hero of a dozens of stories! Lone protagonist of a score of epic songs and poems! Still in his early thirties, the man’s a living legend!
He’d been as tall as his reputation had implied and as wide at his white fur clad shoulders. And that smile! The man radiated confidence and joy! When he passed them outside Lord Urdurel’s office, he didn’t just walk, he strutted. That man was so gorgeous and so full of himself, he could probably strut while sitting down!
The Mighty Quinn; the man who’d single-handedly defeated the Pigeon Queen. The hero who’d beaten the sleeping giants of Cribarth. The lone warrior who rescued an entire town from the evil Wizard; Dizpare!
Despite living his entire adult life travelling. Despite running with dastardly thieves, dashing Elves, brave Human warriors, Halfling druids and, more recently; Dwarven priests, Rifkin had still not seen anything like the Mighty Quinn!
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