Grave Robbers Chronicles Novels & Stories

These men were peers of the realm and would not murder her or otherwise harm her like the highwaymen she'd first believed last night. Her friend Anne Chessley had told her quite a bit about Godric and his friends. She'd called them the League of Rogues, a name she'd whispered half afraid and half fascinated. They were men without rules and morals as far as she knew, if one could trust gossip and stories printed in The Quizzing Glass Gazette.

It was already night time but the grandest brothel house here in the Realgar Kingdom was very much alive like it was the peak of the day. Noblemen continued to enter with much anticipation but I cannot truly tell if it was because they were planning to rise against the king or if it was for the women who will soon serve them or probably both. It was a huge party to cover up the noblemen’s real purpose of gathering here in this pleasure house. Thus, it was also a chance for me to test my girls’ ability to gather intelligence without getting caught.

I had four days left before the poison consumed my organs entirely. All I wanted was to spend whatever time I had left with the woman I loved, but I could not reach her. The next day, I learned that Enzo Marchetti, the first love she had never forgotten, had returned from overseas. "Let's get divorced. The love of my life is back." I clutched my chest as a searing pain tore through it. "I'm at the family hospital. I've been poisoned. The doctors won't let me leave.” Her voice turned sharp and cruel. "I don't care if you're poisoned or dying. Even if you drop dead the next second, you need to come back and sign the papers." The last trace of warmth inside me went cold. I answered calmly,

"Because you were about to lock it in. Marry her. Make it permanent. I waited. I gave you time to see it yourself. You used every second to build your clean little life on top of his body and I just kept watching you do it." "If he's really gone," Jose started, "then why dig all this up now, why make me—" "He's not gone." Rainer's voice cracked on the last word like something breaking under too much weight. He looked away. Looked back. "I dug the grave last week. It's empty, Jose. He's been hiding. He's scared. And he hates us both for letting it get that far. For letting her get that close to finishing it."

"But they’re being harvested. The Legion isn't attacking their bodies; they're attacking their connections to the world. They’re turning the wolves into anchors for the void." Suddenly, the ground at the center of the valley heaved. It didn't burst open; it folded back like skin. From the fissure rose a figure that made the High Magister look like a mere apprentice. It was a skeletal giant, its "skin" a patchwork of ancient, yellowed scrolls and human vellum, held together by needles of obsidian. This was the **Archivist of Bone**, a creature from the era before the first Great Pack was ever formed. In its hand, it carried a staff topped with a skull that pulsed with a rhythmic, sickly green

The gods must have been playing on her face right now. It took her ten seconds to both realize what was happening and then cope with it. Right here, right now, their mansion was being robbed. Moving swiftly and in forceful manners, the robbers swept through the place, taking various positions around the place, at the mansion wine cellar, foods, money, coins, and all edible! While they scream at the people to get on their knees or stomachs, shouting at them "not to be heroes" and "give them everything valuable."

He held it to me as if to offer me more, and I shook my head. “It’ll be okay.” He said, “It’s been long enough since you took the meds.” I shook my head again. I doubted I would even be able to finish this glass. Robust, my ass. This shit was hard. “The Corrupt are typically in positions of power.” He said as he sat the goblet down. I sat and mulled over what he said. “But not always. Some lie low, infiltrating like termites.” “So, like government?” I asked.

It might not be necessary to shift, and it will be much easier to fight if I’m not wearing a dress. As soon as I’m dressed, I step outside and immediately hear a snarl. I turn to the left and there is a brown rogue wolf stalking towards me. You can always identify the rogues because they look mangey and deranged, like a dog who’s been abused and beaten. His fur is filthy, with a few patches missing, and he smells like vulture vomit. The combination of death and decay mixed with the burning, acidic scent of vomit is the worst possible combination.

Page after page of the Grimoire opened by itself, the pages moving quickly as if enchanted. Even more frightening was the dark mist that appeared with the opening of the Grimoire. "Congratulations, Luna. You have reached the end of the game," the familiar voice echoed. It came from the Grimoire, the voice of the seventh reincarnation that had previously inhabited Rafe's body. "So this is what he's after?" I muttered to myself. I had wondered why the werewolf man had stopped appearing, and now I had the answer. He was preparing this evil plan.

I just have to make sure that they want to hire me first. When I walk in, nobody takes a second look at me at first. Not until I pull down the hood of my cloak and they see my long brown hair flowing down my back. Nobody but nobility normally grows their hair long as it just gets in the way of the commoner's lives. I have always been a thief so as long as I pull my hair back it has never bothered me much. It is not much but it is the only thing of mine that is truly mine and I do not want to see it go.