Rpg Toram Novels & Stories

I said. Tamara rose up on one elbow, her hazel eyes shining with defiance as the blood oozed from her injuries onto the grass and pooled in glaring black shadows beneath the moonlight. She hunched her shoulder, blood staining her fingers, but that predatory grin never faltered—as if she were the cornered not yet fallen prey. The woods beyond us whistled at our stand-off, rustling leaves as they bore witness and the pack’s howls lingering like a scornful chorus cast on the wind. “You think it’s done, Rune?” She whispered, her voice a mix of pain and glory. “I always have a backup plan. You outsiders never learn.”

Tamara pursed her lips together as Hades stared at her and silenced her by covering her mouth. She felt something odd about the Hunting Game – and even though she had already discussed it with Raven and Hades, she still couldn’t stop herself from overthinking and doubting her own ability. For if she had failed in helping them, that only meant that she was a huge burden to the both of them. Tamara felt her heart sank and before she could even think straight – something from the shadows stepped out and a group of rogues with their bloody eyes appeared in front of them. It stopped as he sniffed in the air.

He leaned down, sucking and biting her nipples, marking her skin with dark bruises of possession. Mitchell's nails raked down his back, heels digging into his ass as she urged him deeper. Another orgasm ripped through her, her walls fluttering wildly. Liam's rhythm grew erratic, more savage. With a deep, animalistic roar, he buried himself to the hilt and exploded, flooding her spasming pussy with thick, hot ropes of cum. He kept thrusting through his release, pushing every drop deep inside her, claiming her completely.

I had spit in the lead priest’s face and kicked the mirror with all my strength, sending it shattering against the small, barred window. Within twenty-four hours, the aching pain in my womb had vanished, my internal damage knitted whole by their foul magic. But the external scars remained. A tapestry of pink and white lines, a permanent map of my agony etched into my skin. For the next two evenings, the ritual was the same. They would slit my wrists, my hiss of pain swallowed by the cold stone, and collect my blood in a silver bowl. They would slather the green cream over the new cuts, healing them instantly. Then, they would light a circle of black candles, place the bowl at my feet, and ch

Laryn stood up and wiped the blood from his face. "He's scrappy," he said to the other two dragons. I was slower to get up this time, but finally managed to gain my feet. "You next," I nodded to Sarn. "Hell no," he said. "I don't look good in red; that's Bastian's color." He gave me an ear to ear grin and stepped forward with his hand out. "I'm Sarn. What's your name?" I looked from his hand to the grin on his face. I took his offered hand and we shook. "I'm Tahr, of the royal silver dynasty."

I frowned at the demon “how?” The demon shook its head and moved from the corner so it could loom over me. Now that it was standing, I could see it was much smaller than Rolf’s. It had a white hexagonal Symbol with a green circle in the middle of a plain collar around its neck. The spikes along its back were broken, and it was missing one of its four arms; an old injury. “Rolf is my packmate” it spoke “we’ve been together since our release from the analysts. I’ve come here to help bring him back, even though he told me not to. I’m Neeb, not Rolf.”

A male voice, that I didn’t know, asked. Looking up, I saw a male player, standing a few feet away. His character was a vampire, but he was wearing the armor of a Hunter. Hunters in this game were players that found pleasure in attacking other players for their gold pieces and items. Granted, only common items could be looted.

You know the rest'. Tolenn, in his grief, had channeled another of the feared creatures, a wolf, and took his own revenge on his brother. Men began channelling animal spirits as well, the power-mad ones going for the dire souls of crocs and snakes, becoming shadow killers or shadowalkers. The followers of Tolenn followed in his steps, producing the wolf-genn, sparking the first war, and the emergence of the deer-genn's rule.

“We are not ferals. We are not wild beasts with aimless thoughts, and erratic bloodlust. We are a pack…we are the Shadow Rogues.” “Shadow Rogues?!” Toran exclaimed from behind. “They…Shadow Rogues…don’t exist! It’s a myth…fairytale!” Merari shook her head. “No, we’re very real,” she said. “And if we are going against Dronnigan, then you are going to need us. You’re going to need all the help you can get.”

"Control your beast and end this violence at once. Remember where you stand. Do not let your emotions take over and destroy thousands of years of legacy." The flames intensified, and some of my soldiers poured water. The others tried to breathe in the flames. It would not suffice. Those were the flames of a powerful royal dragon. So powerful that even Rothrar himself would not mount a challenge. I was its creator. And so I was the only one who could tame or destroy it. "Brother!" My brother's voice seemed clearer. "Rothrar?" I said. "Ramon." He looked into my eyes. "Remove the flames."