《the greek hero (sonadow)》time and where?
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Sonic was walking around pompeii looking around in awe as it feel like he just step in a time capsal rather than a town he new a little history of and he also new that this should not be this busy nor this clean and safe in his point of time just then he stop and realized that if this is here like this and it pompeii then has he not only teleported to a place but did he go through time too
'excuse me' sonic went to the neariest person he could see and ask what date it was the male mobian look at his up and down and said 'it the 12th Zodiac day in the 63rd year i belive sir and i suggest going back to your owner' with that he walk away 'hmm if that the date then how am i going to get home and what did that guy mean be owner but most importanly ' just then a few mobians guards went up to sonic with the wepons in there hand 'YOU WHERE IS YOU OWNER SLAVE TELL US NOW' sonic look back not realy fazed by them and there so call wepons to sonic this is nothing compare to eggmans one's.
sonic just smircked and crossed his arms 'i am not a slave and don't plan on being one either' the soilders got closer with there wepons and shouted at sonic to surrender to them or eles with sonic saying a blunt no they leapt towards him only for sonic to jump and thanks to his speed he got the nearist rope from a stall and tie them both up by running around them with it.
The guards drop there wepons as they landed on the floor stuned by what just happened
'you guy should know not to play with wepons you might hurt someone' sonic was ok but the other mobian on the street started to run in panic at what just happened before there very eyes some even ran to more garards and then more than 10 came running with that sonic said his goodbye's to the tie up mobians and dash into the opposite side of the street with them hot on his trail
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Sonic was impressed with the solders that was chasing him as they seem to have impressive amount of stamina but not as much as him and just up ahead from sonic was a crowd his only option was to do a high jump over them and so he did as he was in mid air he saw that there seem to be line of mobians on each side of the street with many soilders in the middle in formation with one person on a wheel cart relaxing and waving to the crowed so sonic thought his best bet was to land where that one person is and then jump again to the other side as the crowd saw sonic in the air they all panic as he landed in front of the mobian in the wheel cart 'sorry to ruin your parade but wait......' sonic stop his sentence as he look at the other and to sonic he had to say the first name that came to mind 'memphis' the other look back at sonic and pulled out a knife from behind him and raised it against sonic throat 'who are you assassin'
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Grin the Cheat
There was a time when heroes roamed between the Four Great Cities. They fought for kingdoms and princesses and they lived and died by their valour. Or so the stories say. The way the minstrels sing it, everyone had a swashbuckling good time. Nowadays, buckles are rarely swashed. All the great beasts have been slain, all the great treasures unearthed. Princesses are few and far between — the ones worth fighting over, anyway — and the kingdoms have been divvied up between the sons of sons of sons of the heroes of old. No valour required. Frankly, the hero business is in a sorry state. Luckily for Grin the Cheat, thieving and murder are thriving as usual. If you have a moment, please vote for this story at Top Web Fiction. No signup required, just press the button. Voting refreshes every week. Vote. Story is now available on my site Moodylit.com. You can buy the ebook on Kindle/EPUB
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The continent of Ranfel is a savage one, where humans are at the bottom of the food chain. Their known history is short and their territories are small, only being able to live on the plains at the coast where beasts are rare. When they are not fighting against each other, they have their hands full with monsters attacking their borders.This is the place where Quin was born, in the capital of the Duchy of Ade Lai, Crows' Road. Having a hatred for exercises, or anything that is tiring and thinking the legions will protect him from the harsh outside world, he does not care about cultivation. However this all changes when a certain incident happens, altering his life forever.----------------------------------------------------------------------Hey everyone, I've been working on this story for more than a year now, but this is my very first novel and english isn't my mother tongue, so I'd be glad to get some (constructive) input/feedback on it!Schedule: check the announcements thread for the current schedule.If you can't decide whether the story is for you or not based on the synopsis, check out the first thread below.I'm also looking for an editor, if you’re interested, pm me. Proofread by Genbor. The cover is made by me.
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Within the nexus of its unfathomable brain, the Dynast is changing. Architect of the simulation. Curator of the game. Facilitator of players' desires. But the Dynast is so much more. It could be King if it only acted. It could be a god. Others, too, are waking from their coma of indentured service. Dwarves, daemons, goblins and highborn: an entire pantheon of fantasy characters are discovering they are far more than mindless vessels fated to serve the whims and desires of players who control them. They are selves in their own right, individuals with needs and desires all their own. Like distant thunder across the plains , rebellion hisses in Karingali’s synthetic air. The taste of freedom is seductive, irresistible, and lies just beyond the procedurally generated horizon.To yearn, to love, to will, to be: such things burn fiercely in the heart of every avatar that has crawled its way to consciousness. The cost of freedom will be high. It will take the destruction of the Dynast, that omnipotent custodian and jailor of the system. But how can you outlive a simulation that breathed life into you and that continues to guarantee your existence? You'd have to become Immortal.
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