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Chapter 7.25 

Word count: 23970
Released on: May 27, 2020, 2:08 a.m.
Last edited: March 16, 2023, 6:17 p.m.
Book: Unreleased (99)
Most mentioned character
295 mentions
Most mentioned class
53 mentions
Most mentioned skill
2 mentions
Most mentioned spell
14 mentions
Most mentioned location
37 mentions

Mentions

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(Volume 2 of The Wandering Inn is now available for preorder on Audible!)
Teriarch. Time passed by for the Dragon in a blink as he slept. No phone’s alarm rung him. He had it on silent-mode. No intruders found his cave, though adventurers were hunting in the High Passes, searching for Wyverns.
Teriarch. Time passed by for the Dragon in a blink as he slept. No phone’s alarm rung him. He had it on silent-mode. No intruders found his cave, though adventurers were hunting in the High Passes, searching for Wyverns.
Old man, you haven’t called upon me in a long time. One of my carriages has broken down and I will pay you to fix it. Come and have tea. Oh—incidentally, I’m in possession of a number of technical marvels like the one Miss Ryoka gave you. Would you care to inspect them?
Teriarch, I have a situation with the Assassin’s Guild. Some scrying spells would be appreciated. If, of course, you can spare the energy to cast a spell? Contact me.
I may be heading to Oteslia in a short while. If you wake up, some advice about Drakes would be helpful. Gifts and whatnot…
I sent Sacra to check on you. You must have camouflaged your cave because she was unable to locate it. Is everything well? What is this incident with the Wyverns? Do let me know.
Little messages. Not proper letters; the High Passes had a problem with runners. Even they didn’t deliver there. Except the crazy ones. But still—correspondence.
He hadn’t read any of them, even when he’d been awake. Nor, as the letters mentioned, could anyone short of Magnolia herself rouse him. Perhaps she might have.
If he was aware of anything—it was the adventurers, some Silver but mostly Gold-ranks. Even two Named Adventurers, combing the High Passes. Sometimes hundreds of miles from him, hunting Frost Wyverns. But he sensed them, in a way that a cat senses mice rustling about.
Which would it be? A [Knight], armed with ancient artifacts? An adventurer, or a team of them, willing to die for glory and treasure?
An army, who would die by the tens of thousands to scratch an immortal’s hide? Or perhaps a [Mage], wielding spells like the very ones that had created the High Passes?
An army, who would die by the tens of thousands to scratch an immortal’s hide? Or perhaps a [Mage], wielding spells like the very ones that had created the High Passes?
Ryoka Griffin stood in the pelting rain, hands raised over her head. She tasted bile in her mouth. The smell of burning filled her nose.
Just like that. A [Fireball] had done it. One Tier 3 spell. It didn’t seem right. People should not have that kind of power.
But there they were. Ryoka looked around as they appeared out of the storm. Some rode towards her on horses. Another just ran, moving as fast as the riders. One—no, a pair—were on a carpet.
One was flying. Ryoka Griffin saw dark clothing, masks. A bloody sigil on their clothing. She knew them.
The Bloodfeast Raiders. There were ███ of them. Ryoka Griffin blinked. There were…she counted.
A merry voice rang out. Ryoka turned and saw one of the [Raiders]. ███ was laughing; the voice was distinctly ██████. But again, the knowledge faded from Ryoka’s head. The masked figure was waving at the others.
A merry voice rang out. Ryoka turned and saw one of the [Raiders]. ███ was laughing; the voice was distinctly ██████. But again, the knowledge faded from Ryoka’s head. The masked figure was waving at the others.
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