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James Grasham

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2021

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39 Followers
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28 Stories

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Offering The Olive Branch

Weekly Contest #153

The chill autumn breeze blew the dead brown leaves in swirls across the path as Luthar steered Stepper over the familiar ground. He’d not set foot in this place since he was eight years old, yet the route seemed as familiar as an old pair of boots. North of Whitestar there was little in the way of civilisation, save for the occasional farmstead or small hamlet. Luthar’s destination was the northernmost village which stood at the entrance to the Frozen Pass, an old trade route in the icy mountains long since abandoned to the snows. He could s...

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When Your Luck's In

Weekly Contest #152

Elisabeth’s hair floated behind her, mesmerising Luthar as he chased after her down the hill. The smell of grass and wildflowers floated through the air and tickled his nose as the summer sun beat down on them both. She turned to him, that beaming smile of hers outshining even the sun itself. ‘Luthar watch out!’ The world turned upside down as Luthar realised he was weightless, trees, buildings and roads all spun in and out of his vision as he careered through the air. His arms flailed, trying to grab something, anything to stop his flig...

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Moment of Truth

Weekly Contest #151

Note from the author: This story contains a few instances of strong language. *** ‘Bloody hell Flint!’ Luthar exclaimed as he stood up in his stirrups, straining to get a better view of the city up ahead. ‘Threftall, capital of Peccothia and the biggest city in all the three kingdoms.’ Flint replied, chuckling at the wonder plastered across Luthar’s face. The white stone it was built from seemed to give out its own light, a stark contrast against the dull grey cliffs behind. Water plummeted from the high ridge, straight down into the...

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Decisions

Weekly Contest #150

‘Please, don’t do it.’ Luthar begged, eyes dancing nervously from Edryg to Connell. ‘He attacked a sworn knight of Peccothia, Lord Wedderburn’s court mage, and two squires whilst preaching heresy. He deserves to die.’ Sir Connell replied, face set with the grim determination of a man about to do terrible things. Flint stepped forward and stood shoulder to shoulder with Luthar, sword in hand. Luthar was grateful for the backup, Connell was a fearsome fighter and had proved himself during their days on the road together. ‘As far as I rec...

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Feast

Weekly Contest #146

Flint’s eyes sparkled as he flashed Luthar his best grin and gave him a twirl. ‘How do I look?’ He asked, fluttering his eyelashes like some highborn lady. ‘Bloody better than I feel.’ Grumbled Luthar, plucking at the high collar of the ridiculous surcoat he’d been given. ‘Who the hell chooses to wear this kind of regalia? I’m done up like a docker’s tart!’ ‘I’m sure Lady Wedderburn will be impressed; you look very handsome.’ Flint’s laughter spilled over as he looked Luthar up and down once more. ‘Come on let’s get this over with.’ ...

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Orders

Weekly Contest #143

Warning: This story contains an instance of strong language. The castle at Elvia sat on a small rise on the east edge of the city, with a good view over the approaching road from Teraditha. It guarded the east gate into the city, joining the high walls seamlessly by the work of master stonemasons. To the south, the clear sea glittered in the sunlight, giving the impression of summer despite the chill air. The road became busier as farmer’s drove animals to market, and tradesmen of the surrounding towns and villages headed for the city to s...

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Student Becomes Master

Weekly Contest #142

‘All men are Kings in their own home, quarters or buzz… buss?’ Lucas struggled over the word, trying to wrap his tongue around it. ‘Business.’ Said Luthar, not taking his eyes from their fire. He’d read the same thin book a hundred times or more, learning the ways and values of the guild. ‘Never… question a man’s authority whilst in the presence of his subordinates, to do so would… diminish?’ Lucas looked at Luthar who returned a silent nod. ‘His authority. Any issue that you take with his instruction must be addressed privately, man to ...

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Cold Reception

Weekly Contest #141

Warning: This story contains an instance of strong language. The entrance hall of the Warrior’s Guild was much the same as Luthar remembered. The dark grey stone was reassuringly constant, as were the weather-beaten windows which looked out. Smoke rose from the chimney as fires were lit inside to protect against the first chills of autumn. Heaving his bag onto his shoulder, Luthar stepped forward and pushed open the door into his home. Forever reliable, Terence sat at his desk, taking a gulp of something from a flask. The wind disturbed ...

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Final Test

Weekly Contest #140

‘I remember going out there to fight, the smell of blood, the roar of the crowd, and the warm sun beating on your back. Ahhh, those were the days.’ As L’Beira reminisced out loud, a dreamy expression washed over his face. ‘I can’t enjoy it like you used to.’ Luthar gestured with his chained hands to the scowling guard, eager to be free of his shackles. They stood in the armoury once more, Luthar’s belly doing somersaults ahead of his final fight for freedom. The number of guards had doubled, but today, L’Beira was allowed to give him som...

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Incarceration

Weekly Contest #139

Below is an extract from ‘Luthar’s Travels’, the biography of Luthar Shoresmith written by Scholar Second Class Elwell Mannion of the Library of History, Threftall University. The information regarding this period of Luthar’s life is somewhat scarce, due to the lack of reliable eyewitness accounts from Jakai. However, Scholar Mannion was able to retrieve a written diary from L’Beira Ashane which held some detail about his visits to the coliseum. This has almost exclusively been the basis for this passage. Thirtieth day of the moon of High ...

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From Blades to Chains

Weekly Contest #138

Two score men milled about in the dark, stinking chamber. Every few yards, a torch burned in a sconce on the stone walls to light L’Beira’s weaving path through the ragtag bunch of gladiators. Some sat leant against walls, bound by chains, and watching in sullen silence. Others, strutted about proclaiming themselves the alpha amongst alphas. One such boaster, bare chested and muscular, shouted to no one in particular that he had been victorious eight times in the coliseum. Some laughed and shook their heads, others shouted vulgar insults, bu...

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Summoned

Weekly Contest #137

Content warning: There are a couple of instances of foul language in this story. *** The roaring fire eased the aching in Gerrod’s old knees as he stretched out in the soft, plump armchair. I could get used to this, he thought as he watched the orange flames dance merrily in the hearth. He removed the leather-bound tome from his lap and deposited it on the table. “The First Age Conquests of Emperor Gordos by Scholar First Class Vayo Chen” had Gerrod’s eyelids drooping. History had become his passion since he’d retired, but this particula...

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A New Style

Weekly Contest #136

The sun was scorching as Luthar set foot on dry land. Five days he had been aboard the ship, and two of them were spent vomiting. The captain had set a fast course, and the winds had been kind, but the summer waves seemed intent on rocking Luthar’s guts overboard. Even the limestone dockside seemed to sway under his weight. The only joy he could take from coming ashore was the gentle breeze that licked his face. Men rushed this way and that, with tightly packed wagons of goods ready for shipping. Customs officials checked paperwork from ca...

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Southward to Fight

Weekly Contest #135

It was midday and the blazing summer sun beat down on Luthar’s bare back as Leyton came for him again, wooden training sword swirling. His muscles screamed in defiance as he blocked blow after blow, each falling faster than the last. The clack clack clack of the wooden swords meeting beat Luthar’s ears as much as any of the strikes he faced. He missed a high block and Leyton’s sword came crashing down onto his shoulder, pain lanced down his arm and exploded in his hand. He dropped his sword into the dirt and Leyton kicked it away, out of rea...

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Journeying Into Death

Weekly Contest #134

Just three days from leaving Afferton, Armin saw the tower built by old King James puncturing the horizon like a hundred-foot needle. Its long shadow cast the final leg of his day’s journey into darkness. One hundred soldiers call it home, guarding the kingdom of Peccothia from the foul beings that haunt the waste. Armin had heard the stories of scorpions with claws that could cut a man in two, and worms that could swallow a horse whole, he supposed they were little more than stories. As they approached, a guard hailed them from atop the b...

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