Thorn Blade Bg3 Novels & Stories

Jamie groaned, pulling out the same silver dagger that everyone was struggling to get to. “I will make sure you three are executed.” He added. “I'll handle him, run Genevieve!” Thorn ordered and I took off, holding Taloria's hand as we zoomed off. Unfortunately, Jamie threw the dagger he was holding, aiming it at Taloria. I was going to push her out of the way even though I knew that the dagger would hit me instead. But Thorn came out of nowhere and jumped in front of the dagger. It pierced him right his heart and a flare of smoke exhumed from him.

"He wants a wife. And you... you’re just a loose thread that should be taken care of." She lunged. The silver blades aimed for my throat. I tried to scream, but my mouth was sewn shut, no sound came out of it no matter how much I tried. I scrambled backward, my fingernails clawing at the dirt, until I hit a wall that felt like ice. Ada leaned down, her eyes glowing with a predatory light, her hand reaching out to wrap around my neck. "Sleep now, my prey," she whispered. "Your silence is going to be permanent."

" Just as they were about to shove Holly into the car, a frantic blare of a horn cut through the air. The screech of tires on asphalt followed, and a Maybach came barreling toward them. Luke was caught off guard, causing him to stumble back. The car screeched to a halt just five meters from him. Holly recognized the plate and breathed a sigh of relief. Yoel stepped out, his face raging like a storm. He walked towards them with an attitude that spelled trouble. Luke immediately shrunk under his shadow. Yoel only had one mission. He made a beeline for Holly, his crew following quickly behind to deal with the rest. The bodyguards helping Luke sensed that the tide had turned and they immediately

"You're... glowing." I cried, I sobbed, ‘I've got you’, the iron links growling under my magic. "Just hold on!" My back had to bend, as the earth trembled behind me. Will you give my prize to anyone else? I could hear Thorne's voice, it was like he was standing right behind me with a giant voice. As I turned, Thorne – his eyes now completely dominated by the murderous blue light – lifted the huge silver battle axe above his twisted skull. He didn't intend it for me.

"If you can pierce the cloak with your steel, I will surrender the Ridge’s entire supply of honey-oat biscuits to the South for the next year. If you fail... you will spend the afternoon learning how to cable-knit." A murmur rippled through the courtyard. Thorne, a man who prided himself on his prowess as a warrior, felt the weight of his reputation. He drew his blade—a wicked, serrated short-sword—and with a grunt of exertion, lunged at Kaelen’s chest. The steel hit the fabric with a dull thud. It didn't slide through. It didn't snag. It simply bounced off, the dense, multi-layered weave of the wool acting like an ancient, soft-armor masterpiece. Kaelen didn't even stumble. He just stood th

It felt real. I didn’t do the graceful forms the warriors practiced. I went to the scarred posts. I hit them. I kicked. I let the anger out—Ayla’s old terror, Liliana’s buried rage, my own cold fury. She won’t leave alive. My claws, tipped with Seris’s wolf-strength, tore long gashes in the wood. “Trying to redecorate?” The voice was a smug blade through the morning. Thorne leaned on the fence, dressed all in black, a king surveying his courtyard. A wicked little smile played on his lips.

Thorne bellowed. The blade struck. But there was no sound of steel meeting flesh. The silver blade passed through Selene's torso as if she were made of smoke. The moment the enchanted silver touched her necrotic aura, the metal didn't just fail—it shattered. The silver-tipped shards flew outward, turning into grey dust before they even hit the stone. Thorne stumbled back, his hands blackened by frostbite, his emerald eyes wide with a shock that was rapidly turning into a primal, animalistic terror.

The other two infiltrators were pressed against the backs of their cells now, clearly recognizing that I wasn't bluffing. Even Lazarus had stopped smiling. "Xenois," Thorne said quietly. "Maybe she really doesn't know." "Then she knows something else," I said. "And we're going to find out what." I pulled out another tool from the case. Silver blade, specifically designed to cause maximum pain to supernatural beings. "How many attacks has Jerome planned?" I asked the sobbing woman. "I don't know! Please, I don't know anything useful! I was just following orders!"

I turned, blade drawn. It wasn’t a werewolf. It was a feral—a rogue shifter, caught halfway between form and madness. Snarling, eyes wild. I didn’t hesitate. He lunged. I moved faster. I sidestepped and slammed my elbow into his throat, twisting, planting my knee into his ribs. He yelped, staggered. I used his stumble to bring him down, blade at his throat. “Where is Brivan?” I snapped. The feral spat blood, then smiled. “Gone. Like the rest. You’re late, little princess.”

BLADE 3. Pain. It was all I felt when I shot my eyes opened. I felt so sore and tired. The memories of how Lorenzo plunged deeper into me last night filled my mind. He was so cruel to me. I didn't find any enjoyment in it at all. I tried lifting my hands and I was happy It was back to functioning. My tit hurts too as a result of the sucking he did last night.