My name is Ian O’Rourke, and the main thing you need to know about me is that I’ve never cracked anybody’s skull who didn’t deserve it.
In fact, I hate to fight. Until a few weeks ago, I was a peace-loving wheat farmer, but two sorcerers slaughtered my closest kin and sent me running for my life.
A clan of druids in Boulder, Colorado agreed to take me in–on one condition–that I learn fighting magic and protect them against their own marauding sorcerers. Now I’m a deadly weapon in the making. My fists, staff, and spells are all tools of my new trade. It’s a nasty job, bruising and often bloody, but it has one great side benefit. I’m getting tougher, fast.
Soon, I’ll be able to go after the bastards who killed my kin and make them curse the day they came after the O’Rourkes.