Tales of the Crimson Hoodis an anthology series that explores the rich history of the fictional mantle worn by an unknown number of people throughout history. The exploits of the wearers are unbelievable tales of adventure, discovery, heroism, mystical beasts and treasures.
No one knows exactly how The Crimson Hood came to be. Some say that the very cloth of the legendary covering was woven by God herself and placed within the Garden of Eden.
Others claim that when magic was summoned to this realm by the first of its mages, its essence arrived within a crimson sack, repurposed by the most powerful of sorcerers to be adorned by their Chosen One.
Some say it began with a man.
This story is not about the first, but one of the many that took up the mantle of The Crimson Hood, contributing to its legend.
Clumps of grass and dirt flung skyward, the field churning under hoof as the brown, white-speckled horse galloped onward. “Yah!” shouted The Rider, digging his heels into his shining steed’s hind quarters. The wind at his back, the blades of grass all moved with him, millions of inch-high cheerleaders guiding him to his destination. They swept ahead of him like a wave, rolling towards the castle. The Rider looked back over his shoulder at the rise he had cleared, his whole body undulating with each powerful stride. “The castle, horse! We must reach the castle!” The castle stood alone before…
“Again! Again!” said the Lord, joyfully. He grinned at the Jester who graciously bowed at the command. “As you wish, my Lord!” The bells on the Jester’s long hat tails jingled as he began flinging his multicoloured juggling balls high overhead. The Lord gawped in astonishment as each highly flung ball was palmed effortlessly by the Jester and flung once more. The blur of colour as the Jester pranced and span never ceased to amaze. It was at the height of the Jester’s prancing and spinning that the Rider sprung into the room with an urgent and startling cry of “my…
The Jester held his arms open wide, unveiling the room with aplomb. “The treasure room, Sir.” He stood overlooking the room from a landing. Barrels and crates lined the walls, stuffed with coins, treasures and global antiquities. What presumably were the Lord’s favourite pieces were displayed on finely carved tables and cabinets. Crimson Hood stood beside the Jester. “And what a finely stocked treasure room it is! Have at it, lady and gents.” Klár motioned to the growing number of men as she set off towards the narrow stone stairway down to the treasures. They followed in single file, carrying large…
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