Skyrim Se Legacy Of The Dragonborn นิยาย & เรื่องราว

His hands slipped lower, caressing her hips and backside beneath the water, teasing the line between reverence and temptation. “Dragon’s blood does not weaken when shared,” he murmured, his hands slipping beneath her hips to lift her, “but the power tends to favor a few and we call that person ‘Draken’. Records show no ‘Draken’ since the first has found their mate. Some, in desperation, took additional wives to tempt their waning desires and hopefully produce an heir—although their offspring won’t necessarily inherit their title.”

--- The Wyrm’s Pass was not a place for the living. It rose from the world like a scar—jagged, black cliffs slick with rain and legend. The old stories said dragons had carved their deaths into the stone, their last breaths freezing the air for eternity. The wind that howled there was older than language. Soren climbed for three endless days, his cloak torn, his body numb from the cold. On the third night, the storm came. It was not a storm of this world. Lightning did not strike—it screamed. The wind clawed at him, carrying voices that whispered from every direction. Some spoke his name; others, Travian’s. He couldn’t tell which hurt more.

Everything I need to become the Dragon King’s surrogate is here: A new birth certificate, a fake lineage line, and a fake certificate of noble blood to boot- the most important one I need. “Yes, they are all there,” He smirks before leaning back in his chair. “Did you bring the money?” I nod, reaching beside me into my knapsack and pulling out the largest wad of cash I have ever held. I’m not proud of how I got this, but I am out of options, and sometimes, you must beg, kill, or steal when you are on your last prayer…. and it’s not being answered. I just hope this is all worth it….

When I got the news of the Fortress Apha's capture with the possibility of Seiko requesting for his head at any given time he wanted, this news shocked me down to my bone marrow. His constant successes did not seem in anyway naturally possible as the Fortress Pack was known for the variety of deadly warriors in their disposal, warriors who had been given hard labour's and trainings in the mountains and dessert so as to keep their reputation of being one of the fearsome Pack in all of the South intact.

I said. “We’ve got company at the docks,” Abeloth said in my mind. “Ryder …” “Someone’s on my territory,” I said and walked briskly out of the kitchen followed by Lucas. A man climbed out of a boat and looked around. He started walking towards me when he saw us approaching him. “Dragonkin,” Lucas muttered. I had caught his scent too. He wasn’t a Sire but he also wasn’t just a warrior, he was a second in command by birth.

As Edon continued its evolution, so Neyalha and Gheyaral came to know that they, though immortal, also felt a desire to have progeny that could serve not only to expand the race of Dragons, but could aid them in their task of guiding the inhabitants of Edon. And so were born to them, emerging from their shining, silvery shells upon the highest peak in the Erimanthe Mountains, a pair of young Dragons. As with their parents, so too were the young ones a male and a female. Yet they were so vastly different in appearance it was immediately evident which was which. The male was dark, his scales an iridescent black that shimmered with ripples of color in the morning light. Red eyes glowed beneath

“But if they have already left Stormir much earlier than we thought, then I’m afraid they should be reaching Draconos by the morrow if the winds are kind to them.” Raeherys took a glance at the waves where the sea extended far to the dark horizons. He could already imagine seeing the Draconos Isles ahead, on the siege by the dwarves. The massive fire spread around the tropical forests, volcanoes shaken into eruption … thousands of dragon eggs crushed, stolen, or sold … Raeherys had to shut his eyes to prevent himself from seeing more. He couldn’t handle imagining what might happen next. “Gramad needs to be informed at once,” Myrdin told him. “We could send one or two of our men here to fly—“

He walked right past, not throwing me a single glance. But the scent clinging to him was intensely familiar. It was ambergris—the heavy, musk-like pheromone the dragon race secreted only when aroused. I knew instantly: Clara had already slept with him. It was inevitable, really. Once the women of House Silvermoon come of age, the potent bloodline within us begins to stir restlessly. It craves a bond with a powerful mate to achieve balance. The moment we encounter a dominant male, our instincts draw us to them like a moth to a flame.

Then the elderly dragon performed an elaborate gesture, his hands moving in patterns that left faint traces of light in the air. "Heir of Obsidian, child of forbidden union," he said in a voice that carried the resonance of mountains. "I am Elder Pyraxis of the Obsidian Flame clan. We have sought traces of the royal bloodline since the great scattering." The younger dragon stepped forward, performing a similar but simpler gesture. "I am Kaelor, son of Kaelith, born of duty to the Obsidian Flame." His eyes, so similar to Daniel's, held a complex mixture of emotions. "You would be my half-brother."

Andrew's ears still rang with the old man's icy words. "Three seals represent three rebirths. If you can shatter the final one and survive, you will rule the world as the chosen one. Fail, and you will become a cursed dragon, bound to destruction." A cursed dragon was the term used for the fallen heirs of the Lloyd royal family. The Lloyds bore the emblem of the celestial dragon as their crest, and those who thrived under the family's guidance were hailed as true dragons.