Guild Wars 2 Black Lion Key Novels & Stories

The heat of his body enveloped me, and a sigh almost left my lips. “...I am the backbone that gives the Blue Lily pack the strength and courage to stand in the face of our adversaries. I am the heart that pumps the blood of vengeance through the veins of our warrithehee mastermind behind every scheme we have used to conquer our enemies. I am the bane of my enemies and the light of my people. I am their greatest weapon. I am Regina Shepherd, the fucking queen of war, and when I say that this raid isn't going to happen, then it wouldn't happen. ” I turned from his green orbs and stared into the gray eyes of Killian. His face was frozen in a blank look before he cleared his throat and spoke.

Raven and I fought our way toward Black, who sat on the council seat like a self-made king on his throne. He was laughing hysterically throughout the attack. The guy was crazy. I took a glance at our warriors. They were fighting with everything in them. I could see the number of our enemies was decreasing with time. The werebears were brutal in their attack and I wasn’t surprised that Bjorn chose his best warriors for this. And the Lycans have been trained for situations like these and I was damn proud of each of their efforts. I growled. My wolf was ready to pounce on him. His emotions were a mess with a mixture of rage and fear.

“I’m waiting.” He held his hands up defensively. “Okay, Okay, easy.” He ran a hand through his blonde locks and stared up at the ceiling for a moment before continuing. “I didn’t want to tell you because you’re leaving and it’s not your concern... but... in four days Landon is stepping down as Alpha and they’re holding a contest. Rune and I are competing.” In Blackwater, the Alpha of the pack wasn’t determined by some birthright, but by the strength and worthiness of the wolf. Only the most powerful and most honorable was allowed to lead the pack to glory.

Erriene said in that soft but firm voice of his that always made Alarick’s crotch give a twitch. Kill him, a mocking voice said in his head, He disrespected you. He took the sword and dragged his finger on the carvings. It was Maudinian. ‘Dir ylemi er zi nie rata cogadh anns treubh.’ (There is no war in the tribe.) A quote from a frost giant’s legend, about a great frost giant warlord and his weaknesses, his people, his family and his enemies. There was one special sword for each one of them.

He raised his remaining left hand, and the translucent white spirit wolves howled in unison, their violet eyes locking onto the Northern warriors ringing the altar. "The Warlord thinks he’s the only one who can negotiate with the borders," Derek hissed, his sapphire eye burning with a frantic, triumphant light. "Julian gave us the keys to the eastern armories, Leah. If you won't give him the throne, we’ll take the entire territory from the river to the peaks."

Michaels Masterson stood frozen inside the stone walls of the Blackmoor Wolf Den, the suffocating scent of cheap ale and betrayal heavy in the air. "Screw you, Michaels," Evren Blackmoor spat, his chest heaving as he kicked a discarded iron boot across the floor. "I spent weeks feeling like trash over this, like my wolf wasn't strong enough to fix my mistakes in the Grimclaw Gaming Hall, but I should not have even cared. I should have taken more resources from Varek. How many alphas would you have had to take into your nest if the debt went up to half a million silver bars, huh?"

It was cool to the touch, and it hummed with a faint, dark energy. [Item Acquired: Permanent Key of Passage (Client Tier)]. Allows entry to the Night Market at will.] [System Analysis: Key contains residual data fragments. Decrypting… Partial communication protocols of the Fenrir Council detected. Cross-referencing… You now possess a method to potentially intercept and decrypt a portion of the Council's internal communications.] He had won. He had neutralized the threat, secured a permanent key to his enemy's black market, and gained a crucial intelligence advantage against the Council.

She's mine. I climb, slowly and carefully, my coils wrapping the trunk, dodging the last of her barbs. The air grows heavy with her presence. It's wild, defiant and intoxicating. My hands are inches from her perch when a roar splits the night. "Coilheart!" Hadrian's voice thunders, shaking the leaves. I hiss in anger, twisting to look down. The lion king storms into the clearing, his golden eyes blazing, flanked by Fenrick's black wolf form and Nythor's white striped tiger. Three against one. Again.

Ren turned back to the crowd. "Listen up! We are going to find the in-game nodes that correspond to the Ministry's real-world military comms! We are going to raid their data-silos! We are going to blind their drones, scramble their radios, and shut down their power grids! We are going to make the Blackwatch fight in the dark!" The army erupted. It was a roar of pure, unadulterated vengeance. Thousands of trapped souls, finally given a weapon and a target. "Jax," Ren said, turning to the kid. "You have the Admin Key. You're my Master of Keys. You find the backdoors into the restricted instances. Get Marcus and his teams inside the firewalls."

“Fern.” I’m already standing, turning toward the main gates. We don’t run. That would look like fear. We walk. By the time we reach the courtyard’s center, a line of Blackmoor warriors has formed along the main path. Gaven stands at the front, broad shoulders squared, Wesley at his right. Across from them, just beyond our gates, stand three wolves. Their colors tell me all I need to know. They are representatives from three packs. Eastmarch, Frostveil, and Vale.