Sarah Thomas
Stories
7
Chapters
3,706
Words
2.4 M
Comments
0
Reading
8 d, 8 h
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Clemont rubbed his hands together and placed them upon his cheeks. Even in the late winter, the Mosswood Wilds teemed with life, thick moss, curious wildlife, and vibrant gold and green leaves flowing in the chill wind. Thankfully, the Wizard had done his research on the area and had packed warmly. He was always quite good at preparation and theory, becoming an established Circle Mage and graduating with the highest honors at the magical colleges of Arcanix. His versatility and counsel gained him a…-
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Kimura Daigo, Patriarch of the Kimura family, stepped foot into his own home after weeks of absence. The other members of the Kimura family rejoiced at his arrival. "The Patriarch has returned!" "Welcome back, Patriarch!" "Patriarch!" Daigo was pleased. When he'd left, the impending Calamity had hung over the family's head like an axe ready to fall. Seeing his entire household, full of gloom and hopelessness, he vowed to grow stronger. He needed to do all that he could to rekindle the spark in the…
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What Victoire referred to ominously as the guild dungeons, Varen did not find nearly as dramatic as she'd initially made them out to be. Beneath the guildhall was a wine cellar, a small room serving as an armor, and two barred and guarded rooms with the cellar stairs being the only exit. A severely bandaged Zindo Tavor lied in one of these rooms on a filthy bed. "Dear gods, the conditions? Really, man?" Varen questioned the adventurer guarding the cell. The guard shrugged, "Listen, Cap'n. No one's…
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Guard Captain Varen Capulet went out for a stroll, taking a break from his desk job. Ever since Baron Zindo Tavor's estate was taken over by House Charm, he had far less time wielding a sword versus wielding a pen. His niece, Sorina, had him charged him with overseeing a number of operations, including coordinating with the local Adventurer's Guild. It had been a few moons since then, long enough to form a peaceful habit of his new life. He missed patrolling in armor, but not the long hours and the…
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Kimura Tamaki was beaten lightly but was largely unperturbed by his capture. The Young Master had tried to escape and was beaten by martial arts for his troubles. Young Pale commiserated with him, bonding over their shared personal experiences. Tycon beat the both of them with a stick until they stopped feeling sorry for each other. The Muto western fortress was set ablaze, most of its weapons were destroyed, and all of its defenders turned into corpses. If any survivors did escape, they would be…
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Tycon stood atop the fortress walls, well hidden in his snake form. The western fortress was built atop a tall, steep, narrow upward slope. On a clear sun, a few dozen archers, along with some well-placed traps could defend the fortress against several hundred. Tycon's stealthy navigation through the fortress was far easier than the Tavor manor. His Enhanced Shadow Body allowed him to use his belly scales to grip onto the ceiling with a diagonal sidewinding undulation. It felt ridiculous, stealthily…
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"We shouldn't be doing this!" Lone pleaded. Dragan forged ahead, cradling his dark-metal axe with an expression full of anticipation, "Come on, bud! Don't be a puss!" "Boss Tycon said to wait! And it's only b--" Lone reflexively stopped, subconsciously shrinking his shoulders facing Dragan's massive frame. The big man had waited for him to catch up. The big man grinned jovially, "Come on, man. You didn't wanna stick to my plan before! Come on, it'll be fiiiiine!" "Come on, Lone." Pale pat Lone's…
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Tycon was not interested in keeping such dangerous company, especially with the female's lascivious body speech and body language implying that she sought copulation. He was still working, after all. But at the same time, he felt helpless. He'd have to entertain the female, at least for a short while. He couldn't be rude and put to chance that she'd actively work against him. Women are petty creatures, no matter the species. He decided to put forth effort towards gaining an advantage from it. "My…
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"Here," Tycon tossed the crimson spear to Bucket, who caught it deftly with one hand. "Sir?" "Magic spear. Drinks blood. Doesn't restore wounds, though-- just makes you feel better," Tycon summarized the spear's effects in quick succession. "Sir?! You're giving me a magic spear??" Bucket's eyes gleamed with excitement. "It's a... Lifedrinker spear." Tycon narrowed his eyes. Taree, the mediocre Martialist's eyes glowed to match Bucket's excitement, hugging the young man and pressing her nonexistent…
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Barza Keith, the Lone Shadowdark, sat on a rock in a near-open field. A lonely paper lantern provided him with its miserably inadequate flame. He tenderly rubbed the rough calluses on both of his hands. He was covered in dirt and grime and was taking a much-deserved break. A single older man slowly approached, tottering quietly in wooden sandals and carrying his own almost worthless paper lantern. He cleared his throat, eyes full of distrust, "Warrior Lone... You told me you had a message from House…
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