Resultados de "Cassius" en Todas las categorias

My name is James, but my mom's the only person that can call me that. To everyone else, I'm JD — a struggling artist, working my fingers to the bone for my shot with one of the big comic book companies. Oh, and I work nights, managing a dive called Judson's Bar and Grill. I know: the dream...

My first few weeks at Zenith Academy were hectic. I made friends, but also enemies, and got myself into a death duel. Our triumph from defeating the dungeon's first floor boss was short lived, however, as a rather grim notification popped up. What did it say? A colossal beast and its swarm of...

I will rebuild Zenith Academy… over my dead body? With a weakened mind stone, a crumbling fortress, and a city full of wary civilians, I have been thrust into the role of Acting Headmaster. Alongside Chloe, Mabel, and Skadi, and with the dangerously unstable support of the elemental goddess...

The rift has been breached, and Dawnwatch is under siege. Steel has been overrun with variants; its gates are destroyed. Commander Edwin is down, and many of our friends have paid the ultimate price. The one good thing to come out of this whole mess is the departure of the Guild officials. They wanted us to just hold the line and defend. Now that they’re gone, we are done waiting.

I've spent my life as a mercenary, a survivor, and a weapon for people with titles. Now, I'm just a man trying to hold onto a castle. Quite a shift, I know. Montebello was supposed to be the end of the road. A chance to stop running and start building. But the world doesn't care about retirement...

Asher Corvin was a bouncer at the Dreamweaver, a man whose only job was keeping the trash away from the girls on stage. It was a simple gig until a pair of Wretched tore through the front doors and started killing everyone in the building. Including him. But death was just the start of a long contract negotiation. Now bound to the Demon Lord Maz’Goloth and reborn as a Hell Hunter of the Fifth Circle, Asher is back and thrust into a silent war between Heaven, Hell, and everything in between. There are no heroes, and there is no good or bad. All sides suck.

Frank Midnight is on a roll. He’s been making a name for himself in Sankta Varath as a shrewd businessman, merciless killer, and welcoming club owner. He’s sporting some of the meanest weapons and toughest armor in existence, and rides a deviltail mount through the city like a boss. Frank Boss as the orcs call him. Yet, the man isn’t happy. How can he with a thousand voices screaming in his head and the Quinta Empire advancing on Steelheart. Nothing can stop them, not even the might of the Three of Steel, the brutality of Castilian, or the…mildly annoyed Frank.

Frank and his adopted family have plenty of work to do. The guests are thirsty and they want new drinks, the walls yearn for more heads...er, trophies, and his purse dreams of being just a bit fuller. Popularity is never something Frank yearned for, but the club has made him rather important to the Ashpit and its inhabitants. But not everything is roses and sunshine when Frank is invited to a meeting of notable Sankta Varathian club owners. Deals are offered, new faces promise him the world, and gold begins to flow...but as it usually goes, everything that seems to good to be true, usually is.

Frank Gerber isn't happy. At all. Being a bounty hunter sucks. Even more so when it pays very little. What sucks even more is that his client decides to skip payday. A pimp dressed in a frilly pink suit. Can his day turn even worse? It can when polite conversation turns into unabashed violence, and Frank finds himself the new owner of the most rundown joint in the Ashpit. With a mounting debt, not nearly enough booze, and a single bartender in his service, he will have to do... yeah, he doesn't know what yet, but he will eventually find out. Everything can wait.

Founder. Leader. King. In the shadow of the Ancients, those are titles Alaric Luckstar never thought he’d earn. He survived the horrors of Argonne and secured the prize he was promised. But in a world where the powerful don't like to lose their best pawns, "freedom" has turned into a target on his back. As Alnda fractures under the weight of a holy war and old debts come due, Alaric is no longer just fighting for a seat at the table—he’s building a new one. With CD’s tactical genius and his crew of brilliant, dangerous women, Alaric must lead a desperate exodus into the heart of Chic-A-Go.

With the noble clans destroyed and the city lord missing, things were finally looking up for us. Or so I thought until the emperor's hunters starting poking around to see what had happened to the city and the surrounding crystal-rich deposits. Not someone to back away from a fight, we answered in turn by...taking care of the issue.

I survived a near-death battlefield head injury just to get thrown right back into the meatgrinder. My friends and I survived brigands, beasts, scheming nobles, a rigged tribunal, and oh, more beast! But it wasn’t all bad. My bond with ether helped put part of my fractured mind back together. What did I see? Glimpses of a life lost. A woman I’d failed. But also...a rift forming from the ether convergence. You see, I was there when the collapse started, even though I couldn’t remember.

I woke up in a battlefield triage tent, bloody, battered, and crippled. It wasn't just my arm and shoulder that was broken, but also my mind. I couldn't remember anything—my name, who or where I was, or what had happened to me. Could things get worse? Of course they could. The battle wasn’t over, and it appeared that our enemy wasn't content with just a victory. No. They sought to wipe us out. But why? If I lived long enough, perhaps I would find out.

Not everyone gets a second chance at life. I, however, kind of lucked into mine. Thrust into the body of a dying man, I fought to break free, made a few friends along the way, and started down the long and treacherous path of revenge.

This is the story about how I died. Not really.... I mean, I don't remember most of it, thank goodness. Long story short, I was betrayed. Some people I thought I could trust invaded my sky palace, stole my women, and enslaved my pet shadow hounds. I was destroyed, utterly. Or so they thought. Somehow, mana, the source of my previous power, brought me back. The backstabbing weasels think they are safe, barricaded in their strongholds. Here's the horrible part. They willingly sacrificed their own flesh and blood for security. And they had the nerve to call me evil?

Ein Mann und ein Mimic, gefangen in einem Kampf zwischen Göttern... Wir haben eine vereinte Streitmacht aus Monstern und Abenteurern zusammengestellt und wissen nun, wo sich das Übel dieser neuen Welt verbirgt. Während wir uns auf den Weg machen, um das drohende Unheil abzuwenden, verbreiten die System-Hirten unsere Erkenntnisse, um den abtrünnigen Kalamitäten Einhalt zu gebieten. Chester hat so viele neue Verwandlungsfähigkeiten entwickelt, dass er sich von einer Ein-Mimic-Armee zu einer Ein-Mimic-Armada gewandelt hat. Doch das reicht immer noch nicht aus.

Volume Two of Dio Cassius brings to a close his sweeping historical work, Roman History. This volume begins with book 50 and the struggle between Octavian and Mark Antony. Octavian's victory is the beginning of the Principate and a new direction in Roman history. Dio takes a prolonged look at the reign of Augustus.

Dio Cassius was a Roman statesman and historian of Greek origin. He published 80 volumes of history on ancient Rome, beginning with the arrival of Aeneas in Italy. The volumes documented the subsequent founding of Rome (753 BC), the formation of the republic (509 BC), and the creation of the empire (31 BC). The history continues until AD 229.

Asher Corvin is starting to realize that being a manager for Hell is a lot more about others and much less about his own wants. To save a new ally from an impossible curse, he takes a brand to the neck that turns himself into a beacon for every Wretched in Shediff City. From the tunnels beneath to the guarded resort of the Wiccans, Asher is hunting for answers about a new faction that uses humans, hunters, and guardians alike as sacrifices.

Sergeant Richard Stavos ist bereits einmal auf einem weit entfernten Planeten namens Pelerin gestorben. Er hat sich seinen Platz im Rebirther-Programm verdient und wurde zurückgebracht – geklont, wieder in den Dienst gestellt und erneut dem Tod geweiht. Die Lazarus-Krankheit, die nur Rebirther befällt, frisst sich in seine Lungen und verwandelt sein Blut in Brei.