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Necromancer of Valor Fantasy Comedy
Anastacia Mournvalley is a born and raised necromancer, and a powerful one at that. She had never liked the way necromancers lived and so escaped her home country with the aid of an adventurer called Gilbert, She had hoped to start a fresh life as an adventurer in the city of Valor. With her upbringing still haunting her it turns out to be a lot harder than she thought. Luckily she has a few new friends by her side.
Cover art by: Overcomplicated Appleπ
Go check out the rest of her art from the link!
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1. Chapter 1 - The arrival
2. Chapter 2 - Rosie
3. Chapter 3 - The inn
4. Chapter 4 - First day on the job
5. Chapter 5 - Anastacia of Valor
6. Chapter 6 - A stupid deer hunting quest
7. Chapter 7 - Devotee of Sylvia
8. Chapter 8 - All geared up
9. Chapter 9 - The chosen of Sylvia.
10. Chapter 10 - Daggers fit for a necromancer
11. Chapter 11 - The Red Inquisition
12. Chapter 12 - Allies?
13. Chapter 13 - The basics
14. Chapter 14 - One of those mornings
15. Chapter 15 - On the way there
16. Chapter 16 - A quick swim
17. Chapter 17 - The green horde
18. Chapter 18 - The sleeping god
19. Chapter 19 - Goblin politics
20. Chapter 20 - The scholar
21. Chapter 21 - The crimson sun rises
22. Chapter 22 - Inquisitor Crimson.
23. Chapter 23 - Mikhail's rings.
24. Chapter 24 - Money troubles
25. Chapter 25 - The dangers of being an outlaw
26. Chapter 26 - The Crescent cesspool
27. Chapter 27 - Getting your money's worth
28. Chapter 28 - Meeting of two gods
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Apocalypse Born
The world as we know it ends in the year 2000. Over the course of a week, billions die and the survivors are faced with a reality that no longer makes sense. Can they fight back against wizards, monsters, and robots in a world where none of the old rules seem to apply, and their only ally is a mysterious heads-up display that reads like a particularly uninterested narrator? Well, that part of the story's mostly done. Hunter, instead of being alive in the age of heroes and martyrs, bravely fighting for the future of his entire planet, is born in 2003. By the time he can walk and talk, humanity has already fought back the worst of its demons and settled into its new status quo. What's an easily bored kid supposed to do in the Midwest when there's all this magic and nothing to do with it?
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Angel Eyes. (English Version.)
Remember that I still with you.
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NEVER SPLIT THE PARTY: The Adventures of The Creeping Bam (BOOK TWO: One Cold Trail)
After their fateful misadventure in the mountainous Norther Reaches of RUNDAO, a dark new threat to all of RUNDAO has been revealed to the mercenary band of THE CREEPING BAM and their newest member, half-orc bandit SHAYLINE SWIFT-KILL. Returning their hard-won cargo to THE SILVER ORDER in their city stronghold in BAVAT, they find their well-deserved rest will have to rest – half-elf wizard GAEL FOXTAIL’s father has disappeared while performing an investigation in the coastal city of UNTERMER, and it’s up to our motley crew to find him. As a son of Untermer, wily bakaneko thief ART OF SHADOWS is the perfect choice to lead the way, but he has ghosts of his own to face as their investigation brings them into the orbit of the THIEVES GUILD. But there are daker forces at work here, and as they uncover a dark conspiracy and form an uneasy alliance with a trio of tough sellswords with their own stake in the game, led by dwarven warrior THELGAEWYNN FROSTFORGE, the Creeping Bam begin to suspect this may be connected to that unfinished business they started back up north … This is a love letter and homage to the high-fantasy worlds of the tabletop RPGs like Dungeons & Dragons, Pathfinder and Warhammer and the sword & sorcery cinema and literature I fell in love with as a kid growing up in the 80s, from Robert E. Howard’s Conan the Barbarian (and the awesome Schwarzenegger movie, STILL my favourite fantasy film EVER), The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit and Ron Howard and George Lucas’ Willow, to the more grown-up and edgy worlds of grimdark masters George RR Martin and (my all-time favourite) Joe Abercrombie, as well as a BIG DOLLOP of Terry Pratchett’s immortal Discworld series. IMPORTANT: This story contains material which some readers may consider to be mature, such as battle violence, some strong language and occasional mild sexual scenes. If this is not your kind of thing, this story is not for you. I am also serializing this story on Tumblr, Wattpad, Quotev and Sweek.
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Envy
Are memories what make us human? Or is it something else? Follow our protagonist as she travels to another world just after she has recovered from an accident that left her barely alive and with no memories. She only survived, because of an experimental treatment that she had undergone, but something went wrong, something that changed her forever.
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In a desert province, the sudden arrival of a foreign nation brings war and slavery. A young girl Aya and her friends, facing adversity are introduced to a secret sect, offering great powers and wonders and refuge. They embark on helping to fight for their freedom to explore the new world she is thrust into and the right of revenge. Met with problem after problem and the scale of the Nation they are going up against leads the group to be at the edge of the sword at every turn. Follow Aya as they carve up the world! In this age of Civil Turmoil! Will Deceit and Evil corrupt the young girls' heart!**WARNING!**Also, my first Novel ever written. Cover art is done by Me! This is not your typical revenge, happy go lucky story.... you'd be ill-advised to think so! Follow me on For art and lore about the world THIS PROJECT IS ON PAUSE WHILE I FINISH SCHOOLING...IT WILL RETURN IN EVIDENTLY TWO PLUS MONTHS OR SO....
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GLADIUS // Eret X Reader
PHANTASM SERIES BOOK 4---Gladius, (noun): (in ancient Rome) a short sword.---Eret perked up as soon as you and Simon walked into the room, a wide and welcoming smile coming onto his face. He was softer looking than his father had been, but you could still see some of the similar traits. He had a head of thick dark curls, and the same sharp jaw that his father had had. He wasn't as bulky though - he was tall and thin - and his face was a lot more open. What separated him most from his father's likeness though was the colorful cape, and the large mirrored glasses he wore - swirling with colors reflected from the room. He stood from his seat when Maven let the doors swing shut behind her, that wide smile still on his face. "You must be the embassy.""And you must be King Eret." You said, stooping into a bow. "Oh, there's no need for that." Eret said as you rose from your bow. He stepped down from the dias where his throne sat - colorful cape trailing behind him - and came to stand in front of you, taking your hand instead. "I'm not really one for formalities." He grinned, shaking your hand. His palm was warm against yours, and you could feel some slight callouses - most likely from practicing his sword work.
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