Résultats de "J Pal" dans Toutes les catégories

I was in my garage, when the space elves addressed the whole world. They didn't call themselves space elves, of course, but most humans struggled to pronounce Khjurhnalva. They had a message for us: Forces that had eradicated their species' males were heading for Earth. The space elves offered us access to the System, as cooperation was vital to the survival of both our species. I, Mathew, know all of the above is bullshit. I saw the truth with my own eyes, heard it from their beautiful, deceitful mouths. No one believes me, though. A planet-wide, survival reality show? Ridiculous.

Magic school isn't cheap. To be a Mage, he must work smart and learn fast.Fate dealt Nox the Alchemist unfavorable cards, but he has learnt to compensate for his shortcomings with scholarly pursuits, tenacity, and sheer grit. Fortunately, for him Woodson University and their scouts are always seeking individuals with his work ethic. The Department of Dungeon Studies sees the value of the mind and its ability to overcome all limitations. After all, they stripped the divine of their titles. The department turned gods into Dungeon Lords and their domains into Dungeons.

Almost half a century has passed since prison ships en route to Australia discovered the mysterious Tower rising out of the Indian Ocean, known as Gaia. Monarchies, republics, and trading giants came together to build a city around it, and contain the monsters spilling out of the rune-covered structure.

She is a prostitute until she gets fired and has to leave town. She becomes the mail-order bride of a Baptist preacher in a small town in North Central Texas. She tells the marriage broker about her past but doesn’t tell her husband-to-be. As life deals its twists and turns, will the truth finally be found out? She’s afraid to admit that she does have a past that wouldn’t be prudent for a pastor's wife. This story will tell of the trials she will have to overcome to prove herself worthy of her new position in this small town.

After serving two terms in the Iron Army's Building Division, Flint Woodson is done with it all. With his four-legged friend at his side, he wants nothing more than to find a remote settlement, work as a guard or a builder, and find a wife. He doesn't care about filling his remaining nodes with Skill Stones or wasting his life looking for a Class. Wyldbloods like him aren't destined for greatness. But the realm is at war. The Fae are sick of humankind violating their treaties, their Wyld armies taking to the fields.

I was in my garage when the space elves addressed the whole world. They didn't call themselves space elves, of course. Most humans struggled to pronounce Khjurhnalva, so we opted for the easier version. They had a message for us: Forces that had eradicated their species' males were now heading for Earth. Hungry for our resources, the alien hordes annihilate everything that stands in their way. The space elves offered us access to the System and asked for very little in return. After all, cooperation was vital to the survival of both our species.

With 750 million people living in villages, India has the largest rural population in the world. Based on his Indian experience, Dr Kalam recommends a sustainable and inclusive development system called PURA - Providing Urban Amenities in Rural Areas - to uplift the rural masses not by subsidies but through entrepreneurship with community participation. Dr Kalam cites the examples of individuals and institutions, in India and from across the world, who, with an entrepreneurial spirit and a desire to make a difference, have successfully tapped into the potential of the rural masses.

"Dr. St John? There's someone here to see you." The lady knocked a few times on the door, but no one answered. “I’ll just let ourselves in. Come with me, and don't get too startled when you see him. Dr. St. John can still be quite ornery, even with his advanced disease." "Ornery? What do you mean?"

It was just another night in the small boomtown of Bradshaw. A prospector by the same name discovered gold in a nearby mine, and the small town sprouted in the middle of nowhere. Like wild mushrooms popping up in the middle of a dead bark, the town grew rapidly and developed a rowdy reputation. It attracted all sorts, from desperate men trying to find their fortune, to rowdy, lawless types that tried to escape theirs. The town of Bradshaw drew them all in, with the promise of striking it rich or at least evading the law.

"It’s plain as day that the fort's been abandoned." “Don't matter, old timer. Now help me unload the supplies." Hunsacker wasn’t deterred in the least bit. If anything, from the tone of his voice, he seemed even more determined to stay. Corben shook his head and whistled. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. There was a hint of madness in the young man's eye, that much, Corben noticed. He was quiet and kept to himself, rarely speaking the entire way.

Flint might be safe and amongst his people, but the Woodson lands and the Iron Disk no longer feel like home. He was only away for half a year, but close to a decade has passed for his people. New ruling structures have formed. The pack's alliance has shifted, and the Woodson Fort has flourished. The council he gathered to advise him has now replaced his position as ruler. Flint might have started it all, but now he might as well be an outsider. This loss is the least of Flint's concerns. Oth, the Devourer of Worlds, haunts Flint's dreams.

The Liver Eater hid in the bushes even as he eyed his prey. He had hunted many things in his 40-something years, but he had never hunted anything as vicious as the men he was stalking now. The Liver Eater was stalking members of the Crow tribe, and they were the most vicious and dangerous of all his prey. He had stayed hidden for what was easily hours on end, but he did not complain, nor did he feel sore. No, his body and senses had been used to such hardship, living alone off the land and making do with what he had. Hiding behind bushes and waiting to strike was nothing.

Atticus Boone crouched and bent over, taking a good look at Cyrus Blaine. He looked at him in the eye, closely. “Looking at you now, I sense a striking resemblance.” Atticus looked at Cyrus with much curiosity, as a child would look at an ant through a magnifying glass. He couldn’t believe what his eyes showed him. It was as if he were looking through a cracked mirror. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!” Cyrus said. For the bounty hunter, the outlaw in front of him was making no sense and was simply mocking him.

“Everything has a beginning and an ending, son. We all follow our life in patterns. Cycles, if you will.”

I was born in April 15, in the year of our Lord 1844, to James Edward and Amelia Evanston. Edward was a farmer and occasional woodworker, while Amelia was a good and dutiful wife. They made for a very handsome couple, and I was their eldest. Unfortunately, such happy memories were cut short when raiding Indians attacked our homestead, took our parents' supplies, and killed my parents before my very eyes. I could still remember him grabbing his hammer and bludgeoning one of the invading Indians on the head with it. 

Milton "Frisky" Farraday grinned as he set the bags of bills on the wooden table. The creaky old wooden table shook, as the money bags were slammed on them. His breath reeked of tobacco, whiskey, and rotten teeth. Frisky had several rows of teeth missing that his boys often wondered how he even managed to chew on food at all. They wondered to themselves, but they didn’t bring it up to Frisky, unless they wanted to risk getting lead poisoning from one of his peacemakers.

The bounty hunter rode into the small town. It was a nondescript town that was in the middle of nowhere. You wouldn't find the town on most maps in any of the territories. It even seemed deserted. As he entered the town, he could hear the rustle and howl of the winds as he made his way to the sheriff's office. “He's here, right on the dot,” one of the men said. There were four men with the sheriff in the office that day. They were all expecting the arrival of the bounty hunter.

“You see that, boys! I struck it rich! I'm rich an' so are you! You three helped me set things up here, so I'm going to share my profits with you! Don't worry, we'll cut it evenly among ourselves an' we'll have a lot to live off of. There's a lot more where that came from in there!” Samuel showed the small ounces of gold on his palm to the three men. He showed them off proudly like a parent showing his friends his newborn child. The men still did not look impressed.

"Them stupid prohibition puritans, can't even let good men drink their alcohol in peace! It's a crying shame, I tell you! Can't you do nothing about it, Deputy?” the bounty hunter asked. “I'm just the deputy of town, Bounty Hunter. I don't make the rules, I just enforce them. I'm not even the head law enforcer round here. That's Sheriff Woode's job. “If you ask me, Sheriff Woode's a mite too puritanical for his own good. Men like us should be able to drink when and where we can".

Carlos "Bolo" Damon was a mountain man. Like most of his kind, Carlos was a loner and quite able to live off the land and his own skills. Damon lived off the land and hunted various animals for their furs and, like his peers, blazed many trails that later travelers would use and benefit from. Damon hunted and worked where his feet, or his mount, would take him. It didn't really matter. For a man like Carlos, what mattered was the fur that he could obtain, and there was plenty of that in the still bountiful woods. It was just another day for Damon.