《The Scar - a Story of War》5 - Dust
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Everyone but Vulrick, who knew this sort of thing was bound to happen, realize that they’ve been too loud, and that they’ve not only kept themselves dull to hear the enemy, but also loud enough to be detected.
The knob turns, and Rayull scans the situation:
They have enough time to either grab the nearby and get to a long-range cover or go straight up to the door and fight at melee. Leading a squad is so different from fighting magical foes like in the more traditional sorts of missions a Knight of Old Reined might find himself in.
Regardless, he is a warrior, and an experienced one at that.
Rushing for the side of the door, he thrusts his arm forward in command. With three to a side, they close into the shadows as the knob turns fully, the door giving way.
The easterner at the other side coos out a bored sentence to the two dead in the room. The room is dark in comparison to the bright outside, so it takes his eyes a moment to adjust. Two more enter the room with the front man, and then he realizes they’re dead.
The man screams “help!” in the Eastern tongue just as Carl leaps out from the side.
“Bitch!” the Whihelmishian shouts with a cutting grin. His drawn sword skews the man (Utra Illenmard, age nineteen, blacksmith’s apprentice, enjoyed his grandmother’s cooking so much that he wrote a poem for her about it) and pushes him to the side as the two others draw their guns.
With a visceral movement that Cet can hardly even register, Garl thrusts his gaunted hand right into the left man’s chest (Bolnar Illenmard, age nineteen, blacksmith’s apprentice, budding music writer), the singular moment Hoss’Rayull tears the right man’s head (Johk Retannahay, age twenty four, son of a merchant, spent most of his time watching birds) asunder as if it were a melon.
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A hail of confused fire smash into the deep foyer from the open doorway- at least a dozen easterners screaming as they reload and waste their shells in a manic horror.
“Ando! Ando!” A particularly deep-voiced easterner yells.
Vulrick skews his breath and reflexively crouches.
Rayull looks over. “What?”
“Cannon!” Vulrick shouts.
In a time-removed second, a large artillery shell glides through the solid brick to the right of the door. It travels right past Rayull, and over Cet’s head.
Bayl stares as the hailing gunfire continues to the unprotected Rayull, who just barely kept his balance from the shock. He takes a deep breath. “Front, go!” he yells to the three.
Vulrick and Carl move out of the frame cover and charge the easterners. The mass of them were still reloading or mentally recuperating, but three are aimed for the door. As Awnway readies from range, Vulrick raises his thick, battered shield and draws his sword. With Carl right behind him, Vulrick is smashed by a blinking mass of rifle-bullets.
Bayl, shakingly loading his crossbow, watches Vulrick and Carl rush mercilessly into the party of the enemy.
Vulrick slams an easterner (Mard Hanstell, age sixteen, obsessed with martial arts) and skews another (Boldar Yyll, age twenty-two, painter, two kids) as Carl splits through three in one stroke. There are so many dying, it’s hard to keep track of them all. One easterner was prudent enough to use the often-belittled bayonet attachment- he thrusts forward and marks Carl in the shoulder.
Carl turns right around and punches him before delivering a long, razor-edge cut to his skull.
Bayl, wide-eyed, and Awnway, knowing his weapons would be of no use at this range, watch in awe as the two utterly churn the fourteen easterners into a bloody mass of gore.
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Not all of them will be immortalized in this book.
Carl laughs, smashing his foot down into the bodies while Vulrick scans the area to make sure there’s no more surprises waiting for them. One of the Ulterians had a small, back-packable cannon that they set up to fire through the door. This would explain the small size of the munition in comparison to the usual, field-artillery variety.
Vulrick turns around and speaks to Rayull.
“They’re cleared out, sir,” he says.
Rayull takes a breath.
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King of Fools : Silver Tongue
A certain trickster spirit was fond of saying, 'me and my big fat mouth'. That could be Jasper Stone's motto. There's never been a situation in his life he didn't make worse by opening his mouth, because when he does, ridiculous amounts of trash-talk and overconfidence just spills out. He's never managed to do anything with his wits -- but when the God of Fools tosses him into another world for amusement's sake, he'll need to put them to use. Because there are bandits, dragons, and cultists out there -- none of whom appreciate Jasper's particular gift for insults. --Cover by the inimitable Vitaly S Alexius.
8 140The Small Sealmen of Sharpy Island
The prominent Dilly family has bought Sharpy Island, a remote location in Casco Bay, to be their new summer home. Everyone imagined the private island would serve a place of rest and relaxation away from the city, yet it seems it is anything but; instead, odd occurances and strange sightings have everybody on edge. Some particularly unlucky individuals even are left to wonder: just what are those strange seal-like creatures that appear to roam the beaches? And what is it they want? One thing's for certain- this summer will be unforgettable. (Cover art credit: LoneSmerf)
8 176Resistance is Futile
Resistance is Futile 2336 G-L32 is my title. I go G’ell though, pronounce it how you like, it doesn’t matter. I was born, like the rest of the human race this era, with my abilities. I can manipulate the world around me, using the Strand to do it, looks like the old telekinesis “superpowers” the old humans used to entertain themselves with. As of only recently, within the last 20 years, the Ul’Katoin ripped open space to take our planets. However, they didn’t expect our resistance. They are stronger than us, faster, and far, far more adaptable and enduring. Humanity however, can use technology. Wherever they lay their roots, we burn them away with plasma and radiation. But where we lay down our foundations in their world, they snuff out our light with their vines and tendrils. And with The Jhar Empyrean and other space-faring empires keeping their borders tight, we have nowhere else to expand to. Humanity finds a way, and our soldiers will bring the fury of a Nebulean storm upon the Hellscape the Ul’Katoin call home. And I am one of those soldiers.
8 122Earth's Alpha Prime
The System is assimilating Earth with the rest of the Vast Universe. A Trial Program is needed for efficient assimilation and for that data needs to be recorded from 1111 individuals with Higher Potential Innate Abilities from the assimilating Planet. This Trial Program was further divided into 3 Sub Programs namely, ALPHA Program, BETA Program and GAMMA Program. Congratulations! You are one of the 11 Chosen individuals among 7.8 billion for the ALPHA Program. As a Chosen member among 11 individuals of Alpha Program, you will be one of the first from your Planet to start the Trial Program. When the Trial Program ends, the assimilation with Earth begins. Survive, overcome danger and grow stronger. All the Best. Cover Art Credit: Fantasy Pics Inc Hi Guys I am an amateur author and am writing this as my new Hobby. If you find any grammar mistakes or anything, please let me know. Criticism is accepted, but don't outright hate the Novel. If you don't like the book, tell me why so I can improve upon it. Also, do keep in mind that this a novel where MC is OP. So, for those who don't have a liking to this genre might not find this novel to their interests. Alright then, Cheers! Happy Reading! Chapter Release rate: 2 Chapters a week. If you want to support me, you can do that through these. I would appreciate your help. Patreon: patreon.com/MN_1223
8 106but you didn't ; l.s
based off a poem.
8 129Blind As a Bat [1st book complete]
Book 1 He was cast to the edges of his clan. His father could not stand to even look at him. His baby sister probably didn't even know he was her brother... All because he, unlike all other vampire (The correct terminology will be Wanpyrkos; van-peer-coe-s) kind, was born blind. And what do all creatures do to those that are different, those that do not fit society, those that they think should not have been born to this civilized society...? [Book Cover Made by the wonderful THEMIDNIGHTECLIPSE13] - thank you! I'm only introducing the perspective of the main character for the first part. Things change drastically soon after that. [BDSM entries are clearly marked and written so they can be skipped without affecting the story] ***A couple scenes to whet your palate*** 1. "Uh, we heal from pretty much everything and anything. Have you ever tried physically damaging your eyes to see if they would fully heal?" "N-no. No, it doesn't work," I forced out, my voice a little strangled and cracking before hardening. "And stuff like that, isn't that just wrong?! Hurting someone just to 'fix' them." 2. I leaned and he met me, our soft lips touching and moving perfectly on each other's. I felt as his tongue ran the slit of my lips, my tongue coming to graze it as it passed over, knowing doing so was like catnip to him. He leaned closer, and I shivered as his hands ran from low on my hips and grazed along and up my ribs, pulling my chest closer to his so my body arched and rubbed against him. I hummed in appreciation. [warning: so far aggressive or physical bullying and maybe a little kidnappage and sexual themes as well as possible trigger warnings]
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