Oberyn Martell Novels & Stories

“His age is a single year older than your frame. He represents Darius Thornridge’s son, who comes right before your father Magnus in the birth order of the elders. He possesses two half-brothers—” “Yeah, okay,” Kael says, letting out a strange, low chuckle from his chest. “Go on with the text.” “Laurent Devereux and Mateo Virex. Both pups are younger than his position. And he has a stepmother wolf.” “Sable Renwick is his second stepmother in the den.” “Right, because his father divorced Laurent and Mateo’s mother—” “—Evelina Draegor.”

She paused, her nostrils flaring, and she turned to her advisor with a sharp growl. “What is the meaning of this? You claimed this was the most prestigious trade-hall in the Silver Ridge. This feels like a den of omegas. Are you certain your scouts were accurate? Is this truly the ground where the Martel heirloom will be traded?” The man beside her lowered his head, his scent spiked with anxiety. “I pulled this tip from the Yaeloth pits myself, Lady Charlotte. My sources do not fail.” With a huff of irritation, Charlotte resigned herself to the wait, her fingers drumming restlessly against the stone table.

"My name is Oner Solo. I humbly came to behold the great legacy of the lord of this manor!" There was silence. No response came at all, but Caleb understood the game! Oner was announcing himself so as to make a good impression before the Exalt-grade sword. That was when yet another young man with disheveled hair and six black spears over his back entered. "A Jormont!" Tia whispered solemnly. "It must be the youth they called back from Imperium!" A surge of aura burst just then, and a burly man with a gigantic ax stained with rust appeared in form fitting robes!

“Now you will know her.” He glanced down at me—not with pride, not with amusement—but with that rare, solemn intensity that made the air feel heavier. “This is Maerwynn of Ferngrove,” he said. “Bearer of the Aether. Flame-forged in trial and war. And mine.” He turned back to the court. “My Lady. My equal. My High Lady.”

“But you’ve got this. You do. You remember the choreography, right?” I nodded. My throat was too tight for words. Professor Marwood didn’t wait. “Amara Dorne of House Viremont, third-blood to Councilor Elaine Dorne, and Caelin Harren of House Myrren, first-son to the Delta Wardens of southern Lirath. Step forward.” Another pair.

"Death and life. Everywhere, opposites. Everywhere, the war." George R.R. Martin, A Storm of Swords (A Song of Ice and Fire, #3) • • • INTRODUCING THE MAIN TWO CHARACTERS:- • Neffie Hale Granddaughter of the highest ruler-the royal luna herself. She's a silent but attentive girl with a high intelligence, and an I-don't-care-like and a stubborn personality. She loves her family and will do anything to protect them. She values love the most and believes it is a sacred thing. She has long and wavy sunset red hair, a beautiful pair of fiery red (golden orange) eyes. Her smooth and fair skin is ivory in complexion and her height is 5'5". Also she has a thin ballerina shaped figure.

He was the man who had stood silently by the door in the Silverfang healing house, watching intently as Beatrice cut my skin three times. “You,” I blurted, my voice cutting through the room. Osbert inclined his head roughly an inch. “Miss Marney.” “You were at Silverfang.” “I am frequently at Silverfang, as well as Emberpine and Thornwake,” he replied, his tone as mild and untroubled as fresh milk. “It constitutes the greater part of my duties.” “He is my Court strategist,” Aldren interrupted, stepping forward, “and he has spent six full months insisting that I was hunting a ghost. I would like it recorded that he was entirely wrong.”

"And true. Yet you have no proof. Of this incest. No more than you did a year ago." "There's proof of a sort at Storm's End. Robert's bastard. The one he fathered on my wedding night, in the very bed they'd made up for me and my bride. Delena was a Florent, and a maiden when he took her, so Robert acknowledged the babe. Edric Storm, they call him. He is said to be the very image of my brother. If men were to see him, and then look again at Joffrey and Tommen, they could not help but wonder, I would think."

He hadn't missed the wary look on each of their faces, if they've planned to send him to Tartarus again then he wouldn't go down without a fight. "Then why was he on my territory with no protection from his father? If lord Marcus of Lancaster wants retribution then let him. This is my fight and his, this has absolutely nothing to do with the council. As for Damien, that has nothing to do with the council either." Bernard the ancient downed the blood in his glass before proceeding to speak, irritation and anger evident on his face.

When paired with the armor and swords, Cain looked as deadly as a warrior for the House Viotto should. The darkness seemed to gather at his feet, coating his body until he faded into every shadow. It was like a dark smog had been erected around him. I could see the glitter of magic along with his hazy form, almost invisible to the eye. He veered towards the largest dragon, slashing at its feet with his swords. She screeched and tried swiping with one of her wings, but she couldn’t see where her attacker was. Erebos, with a quiver of silver tipped arrows on his back, darted through the crowd so fast that his body blurred. All I could make out was a streak of silver as he rushed to the pavilio