Black Arm Gang Osrs の小説・ストーリー

My home burned behind us, but my spirit refused to break. Three figures stood out among the crew, their presence commanding the very air around them. Jarl Ragnar Bloodaxe, the leader, was a giant of a man with braided blond hair, a beard woven with silver rings, and eyes the color of storm-tossed seas. His muscular frame, covered in furs and leather, bore the scars of countless battles. Beside him stood his brother, Thorsten the Stormcaller, leaner but no less imposing, with wild red hair and tattoos of ravens covering his arms—marks of his connection to the gods. And then there was young Bjorn Ironfist, the jarl’s closest shield-brother, with sharp features, dark hair, and a body honed like

I had been too terrified to pay much attention to it then. And the other man, the one who had held my arm in a vice-like grip, his forearm had been covered in a sleeve of tattoos, but among them, a smaller, identical symbol was visible near his wrist. That same brutal, angular symbol. They were Aaron’s men. The Ash Mafia. My hand starts to shake uncontrollably, the thin baby log slipping from my fingers and falling to the floor with a soft thud. My gaze darts between the tattoo on Liam’s hand in the faded photograph and the terrifying memory that now floods my mind.

A large army rallies behind him, chanting and stumping their feet on the ground wearing armour that looks like snake skin with snake helmets. “Did this tribe not evolve like the others?” Gwanhoya asks looking at the army wearing ancient uniforms. Looking at the large army in front of them, “I admire them, for their adherence and commitment to their culture!” “How admirable indeed!” Gwanhoya looks at Garamba, “Would you like to hear what they have to say or just begin wipe them out?” Garamba moves forward to the barrier, “I know what they want but it will be more fun if they tell me as if I have no idea what they are here for.”

A deep brown cloak is clasped at my throat, lined with wolf fur, blending into the trees. A single silver armband wraps around my bicep, passed down from generations of Lunas before me. Bran stands at my side, his form draped in dark leather, his sleeveless tunic exposing the swirling Alpha runes inked into his skin. His wolf-hide cloak flows behind him, the hood pushed back, golden eyes gleaming under the moon. He glances at me, smirking. "Race you to the first kill?" I smirk back, drawing my bow. "You'll lose."

And of the Bolgun men were even slowly gripped his axe handle by his hip as they all stare down the 2 thug. “…sorry about his stupid mouth, good sir….the boy is still young and so does his brains….worry not, good sir..this is Red Cow Gang, Black Market…where you got your product..is no one concerns…as long as you are willing to sell and not cause ruckus inside the market…you and your men are welcome here with our open hands…hehehe..”.(Bald Bob)

the girl in ponytail said cheerfully and twirled. "What are you talking about?," Iktanne replied, completely baffled. The girls looked at her with a bit of confusion at her remark but wasn't bothered by it. "You see, Iktanne-sama, some of our relatives live in the northern province of Japan. Right now, our Empire's northern barracks have detected anomalies that involve about one and a half dozen of Giant bandits attacking villagers from there. Remember the sudden appearance of a tsunami a couple of weeks ago? General Gary of the North barracks sent a report to the Academy that those bandits were the ones responsible for that happening," the girl in pigtails explained.

Although, I did so in stuttered speech that I suspected wouldn’t even be laudable to her hearing, she still managed to grasp what I told of. “Well, they must’ve been some low ranking members of a back-water gang.” “They are actually the most revered in the city. Their gang are into everything from arms, contraband, if you can think of it, they can provide it in bulk.” “What are we going to do? They’re surely going to some for us.” She panicked, but that much was to be expected. I tried to reassure her with the reveal of my gang’s name never appearing anywhere, meaning it was an aimless fight had bosses raising guns based who pointed the fastest finger.

armor worn by Hakon and Ranek. Others wore undecorated copper skulls covered in blood-red armor, but the design was eerily similar to gray male armor. In the cold light of the pale white sunlight, men in gray robes fought men in red. Ragnar saw him sitting on a pile of corpses. His protected head rolled off his feet. His limbs creaked under his boots. He was wearing gray armor and he could tell it was torn in several places. He carried one of the strange magical swords that Haakon always carried in both hands. One stopped working. His face was broken and his teeth were cracked. The other worked non-stop, trembling in his hands, surviving for a while, then stopping as if the spell that had c

Even so, a drop of sweat seemed to be dripping down his forehead. The scrub rustled again. There was a sound of broken branches and a few seconds later the bushes opened, revealing a large man in a black robe and a blue mask. Other figures with almost the same appearance began to appear one by one from behind the bush or trees; some jumped down from the tree itself. There were about a dozen of them. Each carried a weapon similar to a black-handled cone. Orda knows what a weapon is. The Sword of Stake, people call it. The black gang surrounded Orda while his horse neighed restlessly. Understanding seemed to be created in the eyes of the beleaguered man.

Nobody messes with the Westside Thorns and lives to tell the tale. My crew loaded up behind me, including the ThornBrides who slithered into leather armor, grabbing their guns and slinging them on their hips. I can't go as BLACK EAGLE this time. I have to be Hazardous, otherwise Debrassy will have all of the proof he needs. As it is, my status with the rest of the gangs is hanging by a tenuous thread.