Swords of the Glamping

Tempted to start writing a fat fantasy triple-decker called Swords of the Glamping. It will concern a clan of warriors who invest their assets in a yurt resort with breathtaking views over “fissures like broken jawbones of fallen gods” and “lofty spires, seemingly without summit thrust high into the frozen cloudscape”. Trouble starts when the cleaning contractors refuse to bow to their liege-lord because he’s a prat with bad personal hygiene and a stupid mullet. After that there are dragons and all of that shit you’re into.