Drunk Wizard Novels & Stories

They all shoot each other looks, and afterward Draxler said, "You know. Simply watching our domain. Wolf stuff." "Wolf stuff?" I clapped back. Well, this was a little bit off since I'd forgotten about my werewolf heritage and had become steeped in magic. We talked and made up for the lost time with one another's lives as the whisky bottle went endlessly around. The warlocks let me know who they've dated, which witches they are extravagant with. Draxler is hitched now to one of the neighborhood witches, and they have two kids. He shows me his magic screen.

With a sweep of his sword, the skeletons went into a million pieces. "What are you?" the wizard appeared from the darkness of the surrounding wall. He lifted up his arms; a large wooden staff shaped as a dragon, appeared in his hand. Albin rolled. The wizard casted a fireball, Albin made a shield with his hand. The fireball went in the opposite direction. The wizard moved, Albin casted a fireball. The wizard was slow to react. He fell to the floor. Albin walked forward, lifter his sword and with all his strength drew it through the wizard's chest. The tip of the sword went through the floor.

Kimber stood by, watching the ensuing chaos in horror. “Dragon, I'll get you, all of you,” he screamed, as Nick and Adam held him down.But Madchen paid no attention, as she watched Drago turn a shade of blue, and foam at the mouth. “Drago!” She dropped to her knees, shaking him by the shoulders, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he stared up at the lights, seeming catatonic. His green eyes faded to a deep black, rolling to the back of his head.

The world was not alone in its witness. In an underground chamber, lit only by the sputter of black candles, an ancient wizard lifted his head from the dust of forgotten scrolls. His eyes, cataract-white, rolled back in his skull as he hissed, “The Healer awakens. Impossible.” His voice cracked, echoing through halls no human had walked in centuries.

He looks briefly contemplative before turning a cheesy grin my way. “Right, well in that case I’d like to order a drink. Can I get a Pornstar Martini?” he requests with a wink. I take a moment to consider what drink to make him. He’s not getting what he asks for. He’s probably the only person who doesn’t get the drinks they ask for. I won’t give him a spelled drink again, mixing spells and potions can have dangerous effects. But I can still pick a nasty tasting drink or maybe one with a gross or insulting name. I already gave him a blue balls shot and a sweet poison. Hmmm… I decide to make a drink called Buzzard’s Breath. Let’s see him figure out this one. I have to admit I did search for in

The symptoms vary depending on the source of the bloodline. Take the Dragon lineage warlock as an example. Both men and women have extremely high physical attractiveness, a long life expectancy and fertility that is much greater than that of a dragon. They can become wizards simply by relying on their natural talents. But how can all the good things be absorbed by the lineage wizards, so this lineage impulse has become a lifelong imprisonment for most wizards.

" Or there may be a spell to hide it. “You can,” Octavius said, nodding vehemently. He snapped his fingers, and his neck, as if preparing to enter a fighting ring." There are several types of wizards and witches in our world. The best are druids, they connect with nature. The wisest are shamans, and also have a great power coming from the earth. But there is the bad side, and those who tarnish the human stories and legends about witches as a whole, who are the supreme sorcerers, and these, your majesty, are the biggest causers of problems in our world. They have an arsenal of incredible magic. They don't need a Grimoire of Shadows to remember the spells and rituals, they ARE the very Grimoir

I hope he stayed there while I drank that dwarfish gasoline shite until I obliterated myself. The only problem is the events after drinking that shit from dwarves are pretty blurry. That was fucking reckless. To drink to oblivion in the underworld in the midst of the fucking war. Well done, Erzelus, well done. I don’t know should I do a sarcastic clap to myself or should I slap myself. Even Malletigan is not that stupid to drink recklessly in mid of the battlefield. I felt a grunt somewhere deep inside me, probably Malleteagan, trying to growl at my remark but fuck him. He is not relevant. I am trying to open my eyes again, but this is so fucking difficult as if someone glued my eyes with su

"Every spell demands a life, and when none is offered, it takes the wielder’s instead. So they slaughter without hesitation, to pay the price before it’s taken from them. A life for a life.” Valia swallowed hard. “And they use that power… to breed an army?” Avail’s nod was curt. “A legion of red-eyed wizard wolves, who believe only males are to rule. And to ensure only males are born, they feed the young mothers brews, mixed with ashes and bone powder. Wizard’s draughts." he announced, raising a small bottle stoppered with a wooden cork. He let it dangle between his fingers for a moment, letting the crowd catch the glint of its contents, before setting it down on the table with a soft thud.

The pack seer wasn’t hallucinating when he warned about Aria. “You should count yourself as a lucky man. She could have killed you” “I am not going to kill my mate. Stop saying these things” Aria snapped. “That is the problem with you werewolves. You are overly too emotionally attached to your mates that you don’t care to see reasons to certain things” The wizard got up to his feet and grabbed his stick. “If you want the potion you are looking for, then you will have to come with me” He said. Aria and I held hands together and as we trailed behind the wizard farther into the cave. I begin to wonder how many years he must have been dwelling in this place.