Orc Books Novels & Stories

Countless books lined the shelves. Leaning forward, I picked up an old, rusty spellbook. After brushing off the dust and cobwebs, I opened it to find potions, magics, and spells of all kinds. “But how do I know which is the right one?” I wondered aloud. A brief silence followed. Then, a noise came from the back. My heart skipped. Moving closer to investigate, I spotted a small, aged book on the floor. Picking it up, I skimmed the first few pages. The book focused mainly on werewolves. Opening it further, my eyes widened—there, written boldly on the middle page, were potions, spells, and a cure for werewolf illness.

She ran her fingers along the spines, the gold lettering cool against her skin. Drawn in by the sheer volume, she hesitantly pulled a book from the shelf, a slim volume bound in dark blue leather. The title was etched in silver: The Royal Grimoire of Sacred Oaths. She opened it, her eyes skimming the ornate calligraphy, the intricate diagrams filled with arcane symbols.

Lacey spat, Rex nudging her in the ribs, “please.” “Every orc, even ferals, have a treasure of some kind, something they hold very dearly and will protect it even if it costs them theirs lives” Muleek said. “All the books I have read say that a feral is a mindless beast, that is why they are cast out” Lizz added, crossing her arms over the chest. “Just because people who know a basic amount can write a book, does not mean every word rings true” Muleek said, Rex was getting the impression he knew a lot more about orcs than he was letting on.

I slowly went to sit on the sofa, on the spot where he was sitting some time ago. I stared at the first book. A yellowed cover, almost a few decades old, lay inconspicuously on top of the other books. I should divert my mind. What if Janet’s vision is wrong? I have never met an oracle until today, but I have heard that not everything they say is written in stone. Having nothing better to do or think about, I picked up the first book titled ‘Renaud pack’s Rise and Fall’ which was written by Al Mauvin.

Another and the final reason why we haven't started the search yet is because Alex and Mason want to investigate the wolf killings in the other part of the forest even though it isn't our territory and even though none of ours has been killed. But it is so very close to ignore. As Thwy are doing that, I am learning with the oracle about being a witch. He has these two big volumes of spell books that he told me are called grimoires. One has a big black cover that is shining like it was made of a very rare snake skin and on top of it written with letters that look like fire are a big words "THE GRIMOIRE OF THE HOUSE OF CASPER". "Who's Casper?" I ask the oracle as I flip its pages.

that the money lent by the orphanage was just enough to last for a month. Good thing that my orphanage had an educational program which helped me finish high school and this aided me to get a job easily at the inventory department of Lyla’s Café. I must admit that everything went smoothly, maybe I was truly lucky. However, I still wanted to have that space wherein I don't have to think about anything, but even though I do, I don't want to become an empty space which is who I am at the moment. My thoughts went to a halt when I heard a loud bang from a harshly closed door and when I traced as to where it came from I saw a young lady wearing a light, white cocktail dress with hair so soft as t

It wasn’t until I reached the bottom of the last cabinet that I found something different. A slim, flat leather-bound book. No title on the cover. No markings on the spine. Just a plain book, worn at the corners. I flipped it open. The first page was filled with faded handwriting. I squinted at the words. The orb does not serve. It lives. To touch its center is to hold time itself. But time bends for no one. I turned the next page, and what I saw chilled me. Drawings. Human-like figures who had once tried to take the orb’s core energy. Some had melted into shadows. Others had aged backward until they vanished completely. There were notes scribbled beside them—"strength unmatched but short-li

He leaned forward to take in more of the intoxicating scent of Jasmine, his eyes closed and he unconsciously leaned closer to her neck taking in the refreshing smell but at the moment she turned her face to the side, their noses brushed against each other, halting their movements. His eyes opened, feeling her move. His world stopped meeting a pair of earthly green orbs. Hazel caged her pupil while green guarded the iris. Deep swirling pools of green guarded by thick lashes, his eyes traveled down to her dainty button nose, slight chubby cheeks, a perfect jaw, his gaze flickered to those delicate petal like lips, plum and soft looking, black threads of silk framing her face and the nerdy big

That fit me like a glove! Looking at the vast spread on counter. All its potions, vials, makeup, soaps and creams. I find a couple things I recall seeing in old magazines we had at the little sunny orphanage. Shuttering at the thought of that place. I wind up putting some oils through my hair, just a little to try and flatten my waves a bit and calm the frizz! I have never applied makeup before, so I did what I could without seriously injuring myself. A light blush to my cheeks, mascara to my long lashes to frame my boring hazel eyes. And a quick swipe of the only lipstick I could find, which just happens to be red.

I told Lady Marmara and she answered with a small smile. "It will stay the same with your help." I suddenly felt burdened. Lady Marmara pushed the doors open, revealing a room filled with ancient scrolls and books. I can smell them. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment and ink, a testament to the knowledge contained within these walls. It doesn't fit with the amount of smartness I have. "This is the Oracle of Time," Lady Marmara announced, her voice filled with reverence. "It contains the wisdom of our world, the prophecies of the past, present, and future."