Sophia Garcia
Stories
8
Chapters
3,710
Words
2.7 M
Comments
0
Reading
9 d, 5 h
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*** God his head hurt. He blinked, only barely absorbing the information contained in the notifications before letting out a breath. To his surprise, his surroundings were crystal clear to all of his senses - far clearer than they’d ever been before at any point in his entire life. It was like he’d been awakened yet again, beyond the vampiric and into something truly divine. He was in a prison cell, an old cement one with metal bars like the ones back on Earth. He could see the specs of sand and…
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It didn't take long for Mara to get there. “Was it odd? Finding out that you were a prince of all things?” Kathrine asked while sipping at her tea again and giving Riven an appraising glance. “Did it phase you?” “It doesn’t mean much to me, honestly. I was more interested in finding out about my mother and father rather than anything else, but it appears none of you know what happened either.” Riven yawned, putting a hand up against his mouth to cover it and then waved Mara over from where…
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Kathrine Vonsilla Crushada the 9th, eldest daughter to the Duke and Dutchess of House of Crushada, 107th in line for the vampiric throne, was not in a good mood. “Yes instructor Pladius…” Kathrine said for the twelfth time that night while brushing a comb through her long locks of brunette hair - staring at a slim figure wearing a black dress that she seemed to barely recognize lately in the mirror. “I realize it’s important, but there’s simply nothing I can do.” “You’re obviously not…
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*** Snagger snapped the small booklet shut, then looked up from where he’d been reading. His rodent ears were pinned against his head in shame and sadness, and he shook his large rat head in regret. “I-me sorry friend, did not know-aware of plot-schemes you were caught in. I shall show-enlighten brood-mother of this. Thank you, Riven-kin.” The rat-kin extended a hand, and Riven shook it with a nod. “Not a problem at all, it wasn’t your fault. Perhaps after our own problems are sorted, we can…
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Salzahar glared daggers at the leaving vampire from atop a ledge above the audience hall. He fidgeted with the hoop earing on his right side, chittering to himself while consider whether or not he should take the shot at his long-time rival now. The plan to lead the dwarves over to Snagger’s position had been fumbled, utterly fumbled, and he’d been left humiliated while losing out on a huge amount of profit the dwarves had laid out for him and his crew. Now, in all likelihood, the dwarves thought…
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Riven stood beside his two minions in an audience chamber, with Mesha and her cousin Snagger beside them. The room was coated in multicolored crystals and illuminated by glowing multi-colored gemstones set into the walls. There were also two rows of elevated platforms that came down from the sides of the room like the stands of a stadium would, with higher ranking members of Snagger’s rat-kin brood filing in for what was apparently the very first meeting on today’s schedule at the home court. They all…
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The trees had begun to turn from vibrant green to a dark gray and black, many of them losing their leaves entirely or illuminating deathly teal light. The grass had gone from a healthy look to a gray-silver, and unnerving fogs blocked their sight even though it was midday. Though the accumulation of dark clouds in the sky that seemed to settle in ever-more without signs of leaving any time soon didn’t help their vision problems either - and it’d been this way for the past ten miles. Despite the…
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“Alright, we’ll come up with a name for our new city after you cull the opposition. Remember not to just butcher anything in sight, I mean that, and catch you later.” The call with Allie ended, and he deposited the black communication bauble in his bag of holding. Riven thumbed through the pages of one of the large books he’d taken off the dwarves, walking behind Snagger down the underdark tunnels with a gleeful grin and gave Athela a loving pat on the head. “You play fetch nicely! Who’s da…
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Gurth’Rok looked back at the reflection in the mirror, and he put his hand against the glass to try and wipe away the disfigured features he saw. The wooden mask to his left had been worn for many years now, a reminder of his failures. The scars he bore and the upper lip that’d been ripped off to give him his ever-present snarl still radiated remnant magics of a long forgotten curse that’d been resistant to his attempts at healing. It’d been a disfigurement he’d finally and grudgingly…
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Azmoth immediately tore forward and slammed a foot down in the direction of the oncoming projectiles, not wasting any time and sending a shockwave of kinetic energy through the air. Stone shrapnel form the cave floor was thrown up, creating a temporary cloud of dust, and vast majority of the projectiles shattered or were thrown aside due to the shockwave. But three made it through. Mesha squealed in pain and hit the ground, a crossbow bolt protruding from her back while a second bolt clipped Snagger on…
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