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Warlords Of The Sea

Ascension of the Warlord: The Forgotten Era

In a world where the magic of the ancient gods has long faded and the last remnants of powerful relics are only whispered about in myths, an ordinary young man named Azriel is thrust into a conflict he never sought. Born as a lowly orphan in a city ruled by a brutal empire, Azriel’s life was meant to be one of obscurity—until a fateful encounter with a strange, dying warrior changes everything. On his deathbed, the warrior passes onto Azriel a cursed artifact known as the "Warlord’s Sigil." This ancient relic, once wielded by the greatest warrior to have ever lived, holds the dormant essence of the last forgotten era—an era of gods and men who once shaped the world with their raw power. Upon receiving the sigil, Azriel is bound to its magic, triggering a dormant power that begins to awaken within him. The sigil, however, is not just a tool of power—it’s a key. A key to unlocking the forgotten magic that once bound the world’s balance. And with this power comes not only newfound strength but a curse: Azriel is now the target of powerful factions, each seeking to use the sigil for their own gain. Azriel’s world quickly unravels. The city he thought he knew is rife with political intrigue, and a shadow war brews as ancient enemies of the old gods rise once more. Driven by an ancient prophecy, these enemies seek to resurrect the lost magic of the gods and reshape the world into a new age of chaos. Only one who controls the sigil can unlock the power to stop them—and it seems that Azriel, once nothing more than a poor street rat, is the only one who holds that key. As Azriel journeys through fragmented kingdoms, haunted forests, and forgotten cities, he will build alliances with outcasts, mercenaries, and scholars, each holding pieces of the past. Along the way, he must confront the deadly secrets of the sigil, the true history of his world, and the powerful enemies who will stop at nothing to wield the sigil for themselves. But the closer Azriel gets to unlocking the ancient magic of the gods, the more he learns of the terrible cost of this power. The sigil’s magic feeds on the strength of those who wield it, corrupting their soul and their mind. To save the world, Azriel may be forced to sacrifice everything—including his own humanity. Each step he takes brings him closer to a war that could destroy everything. The age of gods and warriors has returned, but only one question remains: Who will ascend, and who will fall into the ashes of the Forgotten Era?
Alessandru · 792 Views

Across the Huron Sea: Lust For Life

Seized by a panic such as she had never experienced in the 21 short years of her life, Mira scrambled against the man's grip, and a whiff of blood mingled with an intoxicating scent of cedar. “Shh,” he murmured, lowering his head. Pressed against his firm chest, she gulped at the dark red seeping through his shirt ivory white. She risked a glimpse up. Under a silver-black phantom half mask was a sculpted face, strands of jet-black hair sweeping his cheeks. Contrasting his pale complexion were those burgundy red lips, above which, a straight nose cast a shadow on his thin eyes the color of onyx. He glanced down at her, his gaze otherworldly. “If you’re thinking of getting on the back of the truck,” he wheezed, his larynx heaving. “Bad idea.” Deep like the rumbling sea and magnetic, his gravelly voice threatened to drown any audience. ----- History repeats itself. In a world ten thousand years after ours perishes, the planet is ruled by the First World, consisting of the Commonwealth and the Republic across the Huron Sea. 21-year-old Mira de Armas must escape the Commonwealth after a posse of vigilantes who called themselves the Reds started a revolution and persecuted her stepfather till his death. Disguised as a boy, she smuggles herself to the Republic. As she tries to escape from the Customs, she is caught by the most wanted man of the First World, the last drug lord who has taken out all the Republican cartels. The man offers to take her to safety in exchange for helping him to a bunker and treating his wound from the gunshot. Left with no choice, Mira joins forces with the man and learns that he is Dr. Warshon Qusbecq, a renowned physician by day. As their journey uncovers old memories and reveals the conspiracy behind the election of the First World Premier, their relationship evolves from suspicion to mutual dependence and affection. Through intellectual sparring and the exchange of personal stories, they reveal emotional vulnerabilities to each other that they hide from the rest of the world. Drawing on her own experiences in the Commonwealth, Mira sees the truth as she falls into the dark: that darkness exists exactly because the light is shining and enjoyed on the other side. I hope you'll enjoy this romantasy.
Ali_Gin · 11.1K Views

To Sleep In The Sea Of Time

This is a story of a guy who loses everything, and then gets it back. Same old new world story, just a different kind of story teller. *** They took away our hunter tags. They had us grow our hair. They gave us a new brand, when we were over there. They staged us out of Dragur, East of the Olim Horn. I guess they call us Slaves, but no one calls us much anymore. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. Karn brought Sorrow. Pookie brought Fear. Milk brought the fly boys. They did work in Undia. I worked mostly clandestine. Some Legends I should not say. We played with better wands. I could use the extra pay. Did Mara give the order? Did venom pay the way? They said we were slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. This was before HALO, and Codex was king. Hej atop the rider, he never felt a thing. When our rider caught a spell, and both the mages killed. It pitched us over sideways on some cold Sylph hill. My back felt like it was broken, my legs I could not feel. I kept on slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I never did heal up right from injuries sustained Officially in Torin, unofficially we train. I remember all their faces. They dream about me still. I guess I'm slaying demons, but it's kind of hard to tell. There no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I speak the cold logistic, that old boys speak so well. Veni, Vedi, Vici. I'll see you in Hel. Maybe it's bravado, or an unspeakable guilt. That village, they were demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't wanna to do it anymore. I've done plenty. What is one more? -Corb Lund *** Come guess me this riddle. What beats shire leaves and fiddle? What is hotter than pleasures touch, and whiter than cream? What best wets his whistle? What is clearer than crystal? What is sweeter than honey and stronger than steam? What will make the lame walk? What will make the dumb talk? What is the elixir of life and philosopher's stone? And what helped Pookie-Baba dig up a tunnel, that runs from Shalamanda to West-Torin? When you are digging a crater, It is the best thing in nature, for sinking your sorrows and raising your joys. Sometimes I wonder, if lightning and thunder, is made out of the plunder, of the reddest hiski and oils. *** If you can keep your head when all about you, are losing theirs and blaming it on you. If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too. If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise. If you can dream, and not make dreams your master. If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim. If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and treat those two impostors just the same. If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken, twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, and stoop and build them up with worn-out tools. If you can make one heap of all your winnings, and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss and lose, and start again at your beginnings, and never breathe a word about your loss. If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew, to serve your turn long after they are gone, and so hold on when there is nothing in you; Except the Will which says to them ‘Hold on!’ If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, nor walk with Kings, nor lose the common touch. If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you. If all men count with you, but none too much. If you can fill the unforgiving minute, with sixty seconds worth of distance, run. Yours is the World and everything that’s in it, and which is more you’ll be a Man, my son. - Rudyard Kipling
man_of_culture3030 · 699.6K Views

The Child of Starlight & The King of Shadows

Have you ever experienced a day so bad you just died? Tell me about it. There I was, this scrawny high schooler always on the receiving end of bullying, and then boom, I'm playing hero to this little kid about to be pancake city beneath some wheels. And here's the kicker—I take the hit instead. Talk about instant payback. But instead of coming to in the back of an ambulance or, you know remaining a goner, my eyes pop open to this huge shiny blue moon, some celestial messenger in gleaming gear, and a set of stairs made out of actual starlight. So, it wasn't just bad luck that left me flattened out like a human pancake—I was picked. Chosen by who, you ask? Well, a super spooky mouthless and noseless god of eldraen decided I was the lucky one to get a big fat destiny plopped on me as if it was some group project I never asked for. Turns out, I'm meant to be the "Child of Starlight," the sole individual who's got the chops to take down the Dark Lord Hadeon, who's come back from the dead. And this Hadeon guy? He's not your average Joe wizard; he's the most powerful sorcerer there's ever been. Okay so typically, this is where I'd freak out and bolt. But something's up. Turns out, magic's a real thing. And guess what? I've got it. Not parlor tricks, either. I'm wielding power I never dreamed of..." Okay so here's the sticky part. Hadeon isn't just strong – man, that guy's is also way too tough, and he's got this bunch of followers convinced that reviving him is top-notch. What about me? I used to be the kid nobody noticed in high school, plus I've got this chatty sky-being giving me advice, a realm that's giving me side-eye, and not a single tip on being the brave one. Still, I didn't stick around after kicking the bucket just to watch everything go down the drain. Hadeon's looking for a brawl? Alright, let's have it out. We'll see who's the boss.
Slyfox · 413 Views
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