Nysta Series by Lucas Thorn (#2-7)
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Overview: Lucas Thorn, is the author of the Nysta series which begins with the action-packed ‘Revenge of the Elf’. A fan of swordpunk, he dreams of a day when pulp fantasy makes its violent and savage comeback.
Currently he lives in Melbourne, Australia, and hopes one day to live on a mountain.
Genre: Fantasy Epic
Duel at Grimwood Creek #2: "They ain’t got the brains to stick around. Draug give up easy.”
“And if they don’t?”
“Every man has the right to make choices about his life,” she said, suddenly philosophical.
“What choice? To be eaten alive, or eaten dead?”
“That’s one,” she allowed easily. Curled her lip into a crooked smile which twisted the scar on her cheek. “But I reckon you’re about old enough to know how to say no to Draugs.”
—
And then they heard the chains…
Still reeling from her confrontation with the mysterious Gaket, Nysta must summon all her strength to continue her pursuit of the Bloody Nine. Accompanied by the enigmatic warlock, Chukshene, she quickly finds herself battling even more of the insane creatures which haunt the Deadlands.
There are many chains in the Deadlands. But only one is strong enough to pull her toward that final bloody confrontation where she will face Raste in a final and violent duel at Grimwood Creek.
When Goblins Rage #3: The feel of the two handles in her fists helped ease the panic, but didn’t do much to quell the rising dread as a muted crack sounded in her ears and the shadows exploded above her head, dropping the goblin down onto her shoulders like a sack of potatoes.
He landed with a gleeful squeak, small razor hissing through the air to nestle in the crook of her neck just below her ear.
The cold threat of the blade on her skin made her freeze and she let her breath slither through her teeth in frustration as the goblin giggled in her ear. A droplet of sweat squeezed from her pores and slithered down the edge of the blade.
“Bloodhand!” He cried with childish delight. “It Quietly here. You surprised? I bet you not see me up here.”
Unsure of the little creature’s intentions, and deeply aware of the fickle nature of goblins, she didn’t move. Managed to keep her voice even as she drawled; “Yeah, feller. You sure got the drop on me.”
—
Sometimes hate comes in small packages…
In the months following the murder of her husband and the brutal trail of vengeance she left behind, the elf called Nysta has struggled with her desire to leave the Deadlands and head north beyond the Wall. Now the Grey Jackets, Rule’s most fanatic of soldiers, have followed her from the ruins of Grimwood Creek and they’d like nothing more than to see her dead.
Turning to the relative safety of an ancient fort in the shadow of the vampire-haunted mountains called the Bloods, the elf finds herself in the company of a mercenary thirsting to test his skills against her own.
And, as if that wasn’t enough to contend with, hot on her heels is an army of goblins.
Goblins who appear to want nothing more than to send her screaming into the arms of their god for an eternity of suffering.
Looks like everyone wants the Shadowed Halls to open above her head. But what they never counted on was that when death’s gates open, Nysta wouldn’t be entering them alone. She’ll be taking everyone with her.
Provided, of course, she can rid herself of the awful fog which seems to be trying to drown her mind…
Blade of the Vampire King #4: “Melgana! Elf!”
The battleaxe responded to the barked words with a blur of purple light and slash of steel.
Time reduced itself to a crawl as Nysta saw the Shadowed Halls open so wide she could feel the sickly sweet breath of her impending death. As the axe hit her head, she imagined a bell clanging from a great distance. A bell so heavy its note rang deep in her guts and sent the worms racing.
The Old Skeleton himself was surely dancing above her head.
She almost heard him laugh.
“Can’t buy-” she heard the woman snarl.
And, before her world imploded into darkness, thought she managed to murmur; “Too late. I’ve bought it.”
—
The darkest shadows are within…
Urak’s Keep.
Once home to an unspeakable evil vanquished by Grim and Rule, it is now haunted by the tragic soul of Gul’Se, immortal wife to the Last of the Vampire Kings.
It is here the Grey Jackets have come, led by Hyrax and a mysterious elf named Willem. Chukshene is also there, drawn by the promise of forgotten knowledge and now driven by the need to recover his stolen grimoire before Hyrax can take it back to Rule. Then there’s the necromancer and the axewoman, desperate to flee the land of their birth.
The elf will face evil of all kinds on her path to Urak’s Keep. And she will burn with rage. For the darkness which consumes her soul is waking.
And it demands death.
Death.
And more death.
The Wall of Darkest Shadow #5: “I think you’ll manage, ‘lock,” Nysta said, finally sheathing her blades.
“You, too,” he said, not showing any amusement. “I told you before that my kind aren’t wanted here. If the Mage Tower found out what I could do, they’d kill me. And not in a friendly way. That ork out there is an Imperial Guard. Which means we’re going to see her. The Imperial Princess. Her and the Mage Tower never saw eye-to-eye, but there’s still no telling what she’d do if she found out what we could really do. Be careful, Nysta. Please.”
The elf raised an eyebrow. “Imperial, huh? Should be easily convinced, then,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Just tell them you ain’t the spellslingers they’re looking for.”
—
In darkness, there is always death…
In the shadow of the Doomgate, a Caspiellan army has massed. Their weapons crave Fnordic blood. Their voices cry for the freedom of their abducted Queen.
On the other side, the defenders are split by betrayal when one of their own seeks to open the Doomgate for Rule. And he’s got himself a cleric. On top of that, goblins infest the Wall itself and have turned its warped innards into a trap of death for those who try to enter.
But when everything looks lost, the defenders will be united by a woman. A woman whose fury cannot be contained. Whose spirit refuses to yield. She will crush the fledgling rebellion and lead the Empire’s loyal forces in battle against the infamous Black Blades of Cornelia. And she’ll kill them all.
Or die trying.
Sea of Revenants #6: “Yeah.” The elf spat into the mud beside the dead Grey Jacket. “They ain’t special. They die just like us.”
“Reckon she knew that already.” He shook his head at her, lips curled in distaste. “No matter how much you think she’s like you, she ain’t. She ain’t cruel.”
The elf shrugged, dismissing his insight. “We’re all cruel, feller. Or we wouldn’t be here.”
Lux moved smoothly through the clutter of corpses. The long staff in his fingers tapped at the ground in front of him, nudging bodies which he eased around. He continued quickly toward the gate. “Come,” he said. “Rockjaw, lead us to the temple. Nath and his fool army are waking something which should never be woken.”
“Waking?” The ork followed, but his expression was suddenly wary. “What do you mean by that? Hey, deathpriest. Answer me. What do you mean?”
“Madness,” Lux said. “Is just a dream. And that dream is ending.”
—
Madness rides the blood-drenched tides…
He lurks in the dark waters, glowing eyes searching. His breath whispers on the wind and his words bring madness.
When Nysta is shipwrecked on the islands called the Crossbones, she didn’t expect to be fighting for her life against draug. And not just any draug. These ones were men, once. Raiders who’d waged a war of piracy down the Caspiellan coast. Raiders who promised their dead bodies to an ancient and terrible force.
For centuries, the Covenant has been held. The Madman had kept his promise and protected the islands. But the Covenant has been broken and the draug now hunt Fnordic and Caspiellan flesh alike.
She’ll need to find out why if she hopes to survive. But Temple is an island which guards its secrets. And it has many. One could save her. One could enslave her. And one could drive her mad…
Assassin of Dragonclaw #7:“Tell you who she is, Herder. Nobody. That’s who she is.”
“Nysta,” Myrna choked out. Eyes wide and glistening. “Nysta…”
“Kind of like living here, Myrna.” The elf turned her frown toward the barmaid. “And I’m a bit short of coin right now, so ain’t sure I can afford more of a mess if you’re gonna charge me every time a bit of blood gets on the floor..”
“It’s-”
She tried to speak, but Wolfgang tightened his grip. “Shut it.”
“Sorry, Myrna?” The elf let the smile curl into a cruel line. “Didn’t hear you.”
The woman’s eyes lit with fire and she spat quickly between breaths; “On the house!”
—
The Jukkala’Jadean taught the art of murder in a city where savagery knew no equal. In Lostlight, Nysta had killed for her King as one of the Jukkala’s most deadly assassins.
She’d worked in stealth with shadow as her ally. Ruthless and silent, Nysta had never known failure.
But that was long time ago…
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