Ergebnis von "Daniel Arenson" in Alle Kategorien

For countless years, Moth has been frozen still, one half drenched in eternal daylight, the other cloaked in endless night. For countless years, the soldiers of sunlight and the dwellers of darkness have lived in isolation. We are the children of Moth. We were born in sunlight or in shadow. We can stop the fire, or we can watch our world burn. This is our story.

The old emperor is dead. His daughter, the sadistic Porcia Octavius, has won a bloodthirsty battle for the crown. But she will not rest easy on her throne. Already her brother sails to foreign lands, seeking to build an army and dethrone her. In a southern savanna province, a young queen rises up against the Empire. In northern misty forests, barbarian tribes gather for war. In Zohar, the eastern desert, the hero Epher Sela joins a rebellion against the vicious empress.

The marauders, terrors from deep space, hit us hard. Our starships shattered. Our armies collapsed. Our cities crumbled. As Earth smolders, the marauders imprison us in camps. They farm us like cattle. They torture us for sport. Earth weeps. But there is hope. The Ghost Fleet, an ancient alien armada, might still exist in deep space. In a single starship, Sergeant Marco Emery and his friends seek this mythical fleet. They must find it. They must return with its might. Or the marauders will kill us all.

A noble leader is dead. His five children, once heirs to a bustling port, are scattered around the Encircled Sea. Their kingdom, the ancient land of Zohar, has fallen to the cruel Aelarian Empire. As the dust settles, new fires kindle. In a shattering world, the pieces are up for grabs. Here fleets clash at sea, and desert warriors battle among dunes and ancient ruins; cloaked conspirators gather in shadowy alleyways, vowing to slay their emperor; and a girl seeks the magic of light beyond guardians of shadow.

Aelar, a mighty nation, spreads its tentacles. Its oared galleys storm the seas, and the waters run red with blood. Its legionaries swarm desert ruins, smiting barbarian hordes. Its crosses line the roadsides, displaying the dying flesh of heroes. The powerful Sela family has avoided the empire until now. The family has carved out an idyllic life between sea and desert, ruling a bustling port, a thriving city, and lush vineyards.

Earth burns. We call them the scum. They came from deep space. Creatures of claws and endless malice, they ravage the world. As the war flares, as cities crumble, Private Marco Emery and his platoon blast into space. They won one battle on Earth. Their next battle must be fought in the darkness. The scum will not rest until the last human is dead. Marco and his friends must defeat them. They must win. Or Earth will fall.

It's all-out war. Our cities fall. Millions die. The scum, these cruel aliens from deep space, are determined to kill us all. So we must kill them. Humanity musters its greatest fleet. Thousands of starships rally. Millions of soldiers deploy. For Earth to stand a chance, we must invade the aliens' home world. We must destroy their planet. Before they destroy ours. Earth's fleet flies through space. We fly toward millions of enemy ships. We fly to almost certain death.

Our world burns with war. In the west, the people of eternal sunlight invade the darkness, armed with swords, arrows, and torches. In the east, the children of endless night fight from the shadows. Soldiers of sunlight and dwellers of darkness. Their war flares across the world of Moth.

On a dead world orbiting a black hole, shadows awaken. Some call them ghosts. Others believe them mere figments of the imagination. Yet for the scientists stranded on this rocky outpost, the evil haunting their halls is all too real.

Requiem, an ancient land whose people can become dragons, lies smoldering. After burning Requiem's halls and forests, the cruel Queen Solina retreats into her desert kingdom; there she plans her second assault. Among the dunes, Solina wakes an ancient, buried evil: a horde to slaughter every last dragon. The wyverns rise from the desert, beasts of iron scales, leathern wings, and claws like swords. Myriads swarm. From their maws spews acid to eat through flesh, stone, and steel

The people of Requiem, an ancient kingdom, can grow wings and scales, breathe fire, and take flight as dragons. Their hearts are noble, their wisdom great, their kingdom a land of beauty and peace. This peace will soon burn. From the south, a fire rises. Birds of flame take flight. The phoenixes soar, beasts of heat and wrath, large as dragons and cruel as wildfire. Their purpose is one: destroy the land of dragons.

The Alien Hunters are galactic pest controllers, not an army. Their spaceship is old and clunky. They specialize in crushing the odd space bug, not a fleet of vicious machines. They're a rolled-up newspaper when the cosmos needs an A-bomb. But they're fast, they're brave, and they're just foolhardy enough to charge right into battle. As the robots spread across the galaxy, slaying all in their path, the Alien Hunters fly out to meet them. The war between life and machine begins.

War has ravaged the world. Cities lie crumbled. Forests smolder. The crows feast. In the ruins, Requiem's last dragons lick their wounds and mourn a death among them. But they will not have long to grieve. From the ashes, a new enemy arises, one more horrible than any before.

The nightshades cover the land. Demons of smoke and shadow, they fear no sword or arrow. They suck the souls from all who live, like a glutton sucking marrow from bones. The world falls under their darkness. But the nightshades crave more than random ruin. The souls of mere humans will not sate them. They seek dragons. Requiem's last dragons, a mere scattering of survivors, have fought off men and griffins. But how can they fight the nightshades, creatures they cannot cut or burn?

The skelkrins. Predators from deep space. Creatures of claws, fangs, and unending malice. They swarm across the galaxy, slaying all in their path. Planets burn in their wake. And now they're heading to Earth. Raphael "Riff" Starfire commands the Alien Hunters, a group of scruffy mercenaries. Galactic pest controllers, they mostly handle small critters - aliens that clog up your engine pipes, gnaw on your hull, or burrow through your silos. Riff and his crew have never faced anything like the skelkrins before.

Our world has fallen still. One half lies drenched in eternal daylight, the other cloaked in endless night. Our people are divided, some living under the sun, the others hidden in shadow. All is light or darkness. All is the sun or the moon. All but me. My father was born in the never-ending sunlight of the West. My mother is a daughter of darkness. I am split in two. Like the moth of our forests, one wing white and the other black, I am torn.

Requiem. A kingdom forged in flame and blood. A kingdom for those who can grow wings, blow fire, and take to the sky as dragons. After a long war, Requiem is founded and her columns rise. Yet Requiem will never know peace so long as Raem, the cruel Demon King, still lurks in his underground realm. Forever he plagues the dragons of Requiem, sending enemies to burn their forests and topple their halls.

From fire and blood, the kingdom of Requiem rises. It is a home for the lost, the exiled, the hunted - those they call weredragons. In their new kingdom, they gather - men and women who can grow wings, breathe fire, and take flight as dragons.

Weredragons, men call them. Monsters. Cursed ones. People who can turn into beastly reptiles. In an ancient world just rising from darkness, they are everywhere. Everywhere their curse is the same and everywhere, they are hunted. They hide in forests and caves, dispersed. Many are alone, unaware that others exist. They are shunned, afraid, dying...until a group of these lost souls binds together and stands tall. Together they will forge a new tribe, a home for their kind. A dawn of dragon rises. The nation of Requiem is born.

The sun no longer rises. Evening no longer falls. In the lands of endless sunlight, we fear the darkness, we forge swords, we march to war. In the shadows of eternal night, we hide, we pray, we die. Soldiers of sunlight and children of darkness - we were once one. We were torn apart. We must be one again.