Ergebnis von "Jez Cajiao" in Alle Kategorien

The dungeon is surrounded, the refugees have made it to safety, but...they need food, water, space to recover and rest, and none of these things come cheap. That cost must be paid in mana. Mike and Kelly were sent to bring reinforcements from the park, but they're walking into a meatgrinder, one that will strip the life from them, then raise them to besiege those they love. Matt has only one chance...lead the refugees, forge them anew into a force that can face the undead, in their tens of thousands.

Matt survived the Dungeon's founding, and managed to gather a small, but dedicated team to him, but when he finds his is not the only Dungeon in the area, he has a choice to make. Attempt friendly co-existence, but lose the element of surprise, or attack, and risk it all? Matt has learned the consequences of being too trusting when the world collapses around you, but is the path of grim dictator any better? Can he trust those around him? When those he left behind seem to be abusing his gift?

Matt's just an ordinary guy, but when he's beaten, robbed, and left for dead, bleeding out at the bottom of a gully, it all has to change as he grasps frantically at his only chance for survival, coming as it does in the form of a glowing, dangerously pulsing light. With his reality forever altered, Matt must quickly find a suitable place to deploy the Dungeon Core, fighting his way through the hundreds of people between him and safety, because if he doesn't do it soon, a Core Detonation will solve all of his problems for him....permanently.

Steve and his companions have been offered a chance, the slimmest of hopes, that the UC—whatever that is—will protect the earth. That protection, offered as it is with the full knowledge that it could embroil billions in a new war? It's never going to come cheap. The UC wants something, and it's down to Steve to figure out how to pay that debt or survive without their sheltering hand. The greater galaxy is a harsh place, and in the eyes of those who battle to keep the flame of freedom alive another day, anyone who would give up their freedom to gain a little security?

From the depths of despair to the pinnacle of power, Matt's ascension to Dungeon Lord has been a crucible of blood and terror. But the higher he climbs, the more precarious his perch becomes. As winter's fingers close around his hard-won domain, Matt and his beleaguered allies yearn for respite. Instead, they face a nightmare beyond imagining. The Coronaught infection sweeps through the land like wildfire, twisting human flesh into abominations that defy sanity. Grotesque mutations stalk the shadows, their hunger insatiable. In this maelstrom of horror, Matt must be more than a leader.

Possibly it's not to save a pair of drowning girls, not go 'viral' on social media and certainly not to let the local police take your passport, trapping you on a small 'party' island in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea. But Steve isn't the average guy, he's ex-military, ex-enforcer and ex-human. He's a one man nanite fuelled nightmare for those that cross the line, and he's decided that its time to clean up his act. He's going to make up for the things he's done, and save 'the little guys'.

Steve and Ingrid have escaped the clutches of Athena, but Steve is still learning, both about his place in the world, and his capabilities...not to mention those of the creatures that surround him. Ingrid, too, must find her way in the new reality she finds her world has become, and the pair need a plan. Fortunately, Ingrid’s a lot brighter than Steve, and she’s had plenty of time to plan, to observe, and to build up a festering hatred of her "betters". Steve’s going recruiting—and harvesting. Greece is in for a hell of a surprise.

There's a new player in the great game, and the Elders edicts hold no sway over them… Steve and the team hold the ship, but only for now. The world is swiftly waking to the new reality, the vultures are circling, and keeping the ship looks to be at least as hard as taking it ever was. Time is never on Steve's side, but the knowledge that he agreed to present himself before the only faction he's not at war with and that the Elders have no patience for delays only add to his stress.

The rising wave of the undead has been stilled, the Lich Lord Daedalus defeated, and the dungeon is safe . . . for now. Now comes a time of growth, of calm and restructuring as the dungeon upgrades and the new alliances settle . . . but not all is peace and love. The gangs are rising, the asuras spread, and the dead never truly rest . . . The Age of Steel has begun.

Matt and many of his people are alive, and they've found a new ally, more or less, but the damage done to the dungeon and its future are beyond measure. Time and great effort are needed to repair the cracks, to seal the warping and to rebuild, but the world after the fall isn't somewhere anyone can afford to wait around in. Matt and his people must push on, they must grow, they have to rise up if they are to have any chance of surviving.

After being ripped from everything he knew, Steve drifts amongst the shattered remains of dead worlds and civilizations. The vast grave of the ages threatens to consume him as he faces an impossible choice—evolve beyond his limits, or be lost amongst the ruins, like all the other failures. The node is under attack. Meanwhile, the enemy is bearing down on all sides, ready to tear their hard-won prize free. If Steve is going to eke out a chance at survival, he'll have to fight his way home. Not only that, when he gets there, he's going to have to deal with the Ændari's greatest secret.

Steve and the team survived the assault on their new home, and their enemies learned a valuable lesson about trespassing… their bodies now help form the very walls his people live within. The Old Ones have agreed to his offer. Steve has a month to get his affairs in order, then he must present himself before the oldest of his kind, and for now? He is to be left alone. As much as Steve has gained, he's lost access to the greatest of his advantages. It's only a matter of time before the edict expires, and unless he presents himself as agreed, it's open season on him and his group.

Jax seems like a regular guy, except that he fights creatures from a strange place called the UnderVerse in his sleep, leaving him covered in horrific scars when he wakes up. The mysterious disappearance of his brother five years prior has forced Jax into a holding pattern, with a job he tolerates, a girl he kinda, sorta loves . . . until he's kidnapped and given a stark choice by his asshat of a father: Go to the UnderVerse in reality, travel to the capitol of that ruined realm at the center of reality, and open a portal for the Noble Houses to return home . . .

New companions, new threats, and at last a real home. Jax has a chance to turn his territory into more than a relic, buried deep in the forest. War is on the horizon . . . Things are looking up for Jax, more or less. He's met the girl (Wisp) of his dreams, got some new friends (the kind he'd fought with and alongside in his gaming), and even managed to start a war . . . Okay, that last bit might not have been the wisest thing he's ever done, but the guy was an ass, and he deserved it . . .

The War of the Gods has stalled while both sides recover, borders have been established, and a form of uneasy peace descends on the Imperial Territory of Dravith . . . It should be a time of consolidation, of rest and giving the survivors the chance to rearm and train. But life rarely goes as Jax expects. New and old enemies are on the horizon, the land itself is disturbed, and worst of all, the Gods are not all he believed they are.

Warfare below the streets, backstabbing, and brutality. Kabutt is out. Out of the army, out of patience, and out of control. He's found a home, people to fight for, and once again, the city seems determined to screw that up for him. He's got backstabbing elves trying to rip him off, corpos forcing him and his team into unsanctioned deathmatches for live broadcasts, and of course, the usual skulduggery, not to mention more goddamn goblins.

Ajax is one of Earth’s most elite, a Paladin pilot, and trusted to fly the most advanced starfighters humanity ever produced. His carrier and the rest of the fleet have fallen back, the recent damage from the elven betrayal making it impossible to stay in the fight. He knows they’ll return, and they’ll treat this world to the same kind of plasma bombardment that the elves had inflicted on Mother Earth. The real problem for Ajax, though, is that he’s parachuting down onto it now, his arm broken.

The Dark Legion have been beaten back, and for the first time, the brothers are allied against the savagery that the UnderVerse has thrown at them, but the storm clouds of war are gathering, and not everyone will see the sun rise again. Jax has one chance to keep his people safe from the storm and the war that's building on the horizon, but it'll take balls of steel, brains of mince—and he's really going to need to be lucky as hell to pull this one off.

Sergeant Harry Kabutt has seen better days. He's been shot down, blown up, and tossed to the wayside by the corporations, left to rot in a ratty apartment in gang territory. His own limbs? Shredded, cut away, and left to rot on a mountainside. The replacement mods? Likely to fall apart or leave him to die of sepsis. No longer an operator of the feared APS mecha, Kabutt has hit rock bottom. But he's on foot, he's armed, and he's in serious pain…now it's time to take that pain and spread it around the mega-city of Artem. See who flinches first.

Nimon, The God of Death, has named Jax and all who follow him "Apostate" decreeing their death and has dispatched his Dark Legion, the Imperial Legion's antithesis, to see the job done once and for all. Hundreds march on the Great Tower, the seat of Jax's power and home to his resurgent Empire. Unbeknownst to Nimon, Jax and the vast majority of his people are far out to sea, aboard ships that are only partially operational, and the enemy's forces are drawing closer to his home by the hour.