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Ice Age Scrat'S Nutty Adventure

Witch's Adventure.

Magic is easy! You just have to get your soul vibrating at the right frequency, isn't it? Don't forget the gestures for the spells! But beware... every power has its price, and though we may not know it at first, every payment we make is recorded, and one day we will have to pay our debts. Séraphine Rohan is a witch, perhaps something special in this world, but not even she would dare to fight against the increasingly powerful firearms. Neon lights, soft music and extravagant living! Prosperity is everywhere in this world where idealism meets materialism and mysticism meets science. Where gangsters can be more dangerous than a werewolf and fairy dust is used as a recreational substance. But what lies beneath this veil of glamour, wealth and colorful lights? The decadence of humanity is not only material, but also spiritual, and sometimes... this is reflected in our surroundings more than we think. Join Séraphine Rohan as she explores this world full of interesting creatures, solves cases as a detective and embarks on various adventures driven by money, or maybe it's those ideals she doesn't want to talk about? All this while reality becomes more and more confusing and incomprehensible before her eyes. By the way, how about toasting this psychedelic story with a glass of wine? ------------------------ Cover made by TheAnPlayer2. English is my second language and I'm using Grammarly for thoses mistakes I didn't see, so, if you notice one, comment, please! I will be posting this story on RoyalRoad.com
Sir_Traverse · 15.3K Views

WarLords : Ice Viking's

The cold stone hall was dimly lit with flickering torches. Shadows stretched long across the floor. At the far end of the room, the King sat high on his throne, surrounded by High Lords, Generals, and Counselors. Silence hung thick in the air as the Ice Viking entered. He stood in the center, arms at his side, eyes forward. “Viking,” the King called from his seat. Varnok didn’t move. “Yes,” he replied flatly. One of the High Lords stood up in anger. “In the presence of your King—you kneel!” The knights draws their Swords. Varnok stayed still. “You’re not my king,” he said calmly. The King raised a hand. The knights lowered their swords. “Let him be,” the King said, leaning forward. “Ice Viking… step forward.” Varnok walked slowly across the cold stone floor. “There is war between the Vikings and this kingdom,” the King said. Varnok kept walking. “It’s your kingdom,” he answered. “That has nothing to do with me.” The lords murmured in outrage. “You think they’ll stop there?” the King asked, raising a hand for silence. “You know what those animals are like. Vikings… they don’t stop until they’ve burned everything to ash.” “And yet I’ve protected the village just fine,” Varnok said. “Without your help. Like it’s always been.” “Without my help, there’d be no village to protect,” the King snapped. “There is a village,” Varnok said, meeting his eyes. “And not once have you offered it your help.” “King... please. What an excuse.” The king nodded toward the general standing beside him. Without hesitation, the general stepped forward and struck Varnok across the face. Then a second punch to the stomach. Finally, a heavy kick to the leg. Varnok dropped to one knee. “Good,” the King said, tipping his goblet and pouring wine over Varnok’s head. “Like the animal you are.” Murmurs filled the hall. > "What an animal." "Fits clearly—a dog." "All Vikings should just die." "Disgusting things." The King laughed with joy as he was Pleased by the words of the people. He leaned forward again, with his voice low. “Maybe we should start with your wife… and child.” The room fell into a deadly stillness. Varnok’s eyes snapped open—glowing bright, ice-blue. A shiver cut through the entire hall. The ground began to vibrate. Goblets trembled. Torches flickered lower. Then came his voice—cold, deep, inhuman. Like the cracking of ancient glaciers. “If a single breath so much as brushes their skin…” “I will bring down such ruin upon this kingdom that even the crows will starve for lack of flesh. I will freeze your rivers. Silence your bells. And watch your palace rot from the inside—As your screams echo in halls no one dares enter. Pray your tongue forgets their names… before I remember yours.” No one moved everywhere was silent. Even the air seemed too afraid to stir.
vickysfantasy · 8.2K Views
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