Resultado de "Arthur Stone" em Todas as categorias

Die Wüste hat Sünder hinter sich gelassen, aber erbarmungslose Härten und Prüfungen pflastern weiter seinen Weg. Er sitzt in der Falle – in derselben wie alle, die es nicht schnell genug zum nördlichen Rand der Ebene geschafft haben. Er hat die Wahl: Entweder klein beigeben, sich in sein Schicksal fügen und mit den anderen Unglücklichen sterben – oder sich befreien, und seine Freunde gleich mit ihm. Aber es wird ein harter Kampf. Und um sich und die anderen zu retten, muss er gegen das grausamste aller Raubtiere bestehen. Den Menschen.

Imagine a warm, beautiful country populated by friendly and happy people who live in harmony under a true democratically elected government. In a feudal world dominated by a small cohort of ruthless nobles, that would indeed be a bright spot, right? It sure would—except keep dreaming, folks. Where our hero is going this time is the exact opposite of the above—a slum of a city in the middle of a dry, inhospitable desert, pervasive corruption, and all kinds of formidable enemies.

Der Trial geht weiter und wer hinter dem endlosen Blutvergießen steht, ist immer noch ein Rätsel. Es spielt keine Rolle, ob du einer Kaste angehörst und Privilegien genießt oder ein vogelfreies Stück Fleisch bist, ein berühmt-berüchtigter Top Star, dessen Foto alle Welt kommentiert, oder der letzte Loser – niemand hat eine Ahnung, und mit jeder Erkenntnis tun sich nur neue Fragen auf. Vor dem Start auf der neuen Ebene hast du eine Wahl. Je härter die Gangart, die du wählst, desto schöner die Preise, die dir winken.

Er wurde aus seiner bekannten Welt herausgerissen, um ihn brutal umzubringen. Er sollte das Schicksal all derer teilen, die nur Futter waren, das denen zum Fraß vorgeworfen wurde, die mehr Glück hatten. Aber sei gewarnt, Privilegierter: Er ist ein ganz besonderes Futter – von der Sorte, die zurückbeißt. Die euch frisst. Überlege dir gut, ob du immer noch Lust hast, ihn zu jagen. Und wenn ja, dann mache dir nicht die Mühe, zu rennen. Er wird von selbst zu dir kommen und dich holen.

An unexpected roadmap—or better yet, a book—makes looking for treasure so much easier. Reading into it what the authors have never even thought about makes for a welcome bonus. These are all but lucky waystations on my journey to the doorsteps of this world's greatest mystery. There's a catch: everyone and his brother has already been there, and even the worst losers know the way. So, is this the end of the road? The demise of the Great Plan? Or have they all knocked on the door the wrong way?

Willkommen beim Trial. Hier bist du niemand. Du bist nichts. Eine Null, ein nichtsnutziges Stück Fleisch mit Knochen. Ein schmackhafter Happen für deine Gegenspieler und für die, die beim Start Glück hatten. Futter. Der einzige Sinn deiner jämmerlichen Existenz ist, möglichst schnell zu verrecken.

The new, detached setting is teeming with "land mines"—highly unusual ones. Plenty of other, deadlier things would be happy to reach out and touch someone anywhere, be it the roof of a skyscraper or a subway tunnel deep underground. Tons of somnambulant extras could swing either way: cut your throat or help you, purely on a whim. Weapons are as deadly as they are improbable. Deliberately imposed multiple handicaps make any attempts at camouflage meaningless.

At first, stories of Cheater caused nothing but laughter and rolled eyes. As the months went on, however, the tales became more terrific - and more terrifying. Now, Cheater the Lovestruck Loser has become Cheater the Lucky Legend. He never misses. He can never be held captive. And his luck never runs out. In pursuit of his love, his inexorable progress eastward leaves a trail of story upon story and corpse upon corpse.

On his shoulders, he carries a heavy rifle that digs into his burned flesh. Worse still is his load of loot. In mass, it amounts to dozens of pounds. But in worth, it is weightier than a palace. Only the luckiest of geniuses could manage to escape a dangerous wilderness, where he is hunted with every step, with such riches on his back. Luck, of course, is something Cheater has plenty of. Genius, though, is less clear. He watches his haul grow with each new place he visits, adding to the physical and emotional strain of his pilgrimage.

The Continent is full of all kinds of places, and in some, fear rules every corner. Approaching the worst of these places is beyond the stomachs of most men and women. Entering and crossing them? Even fewer would dare that. And they would only do so with an experienced team or a heavily armored trade caravan, for only in such company would they have a chance of making it.

Some fall prey to those holding a gun for the first time. Others cannot be defeated even by the most experienced shooters in the world, unless their luck comes to save the day. Cheater’s accuracy is unparalleled, and Lady Luck is on his side. He has all the marks of a champion, and champions never miss. The true aim of his heart, though, is not one that can be hit with a single fortunate shot. No, she is far to the west, beyond several of the Continent’s most dangerous locations: the bleak boundaries dividing regions from one another.

Cheater now has a straightforward goal, or so it seems to him. To everyone else, his endeavor sounds suicidal for a high-level veteran, never mind a newcomer whose intellect is still shackled by the System. Cheater sees only one way forward: develop his skills, conquer monsters, and become stronger, faster, wiser, and more fearsome with each passing day. Until he makes progress on his own capabilities, he cannot hope to achieve anything else. But the System has intentions of its own.

Something quite odd is happening in Second World - the planet's foremost MMORPG. Something that's causing alliances to be broken, and friendships, forgotten. A worthless low-level mine becomes the stage of vicious battles, its burned ruins suddenly contested by the game's toughest clans. Every border is controlled, and every road in the province blocked off. The weak players and NPCs alike are subjected to non-stop violent raids courtesy of Eastern invaders. And the strong are scouring the virtual world for the culprit - the weirdest noob the game has ever seen.

The Second World is a mire of intrigue; the game's creators have left several back doors permitting them to terminate anyone at will, and an unlikely sequence of events has brought someone unsuspecting into their field of attention. One player has managed to upset the game world's balance, and now he's hunted by everyone. Every clan wants to recruit him for his achievements while other powers want him for their own, more sinister purposes.

William Sanford Nye, popularly known as Bill Nye the Science Guy, is an American science communicator, television presenter, and mechanical engineer. He is best known as the host of the PBS children's science show Bill Nye the Science Guy, and for his many subsequent appearances in popular media as a science educator. Nye began his career as a mechanical engineer for Boeing Corporation in Seattle, where he invented a hydraulic resonance suppressor tube used on 747 airplanes.

You are no one. Level zero. Empty of mind and memory. Even your past has been stripped from your brain by the inscrutable System. A long, difficult road lies between you and remembering any part of who you are. A road punctuated with one death after another. You are too puny to survive by might alone. Information is the single resource that might keep you alive, but the brainless “digis” have none of it. Only those with experience can give you what you need, but most care nothing about you or your plight. In fact, some make it their mission to kill you.

So you want a brilliant cut for your rough diamond? In that case, you should get on with the cutting! That’s how I found myself looking for a suitable lapidarist. Since I was anything but your run-of-the-mill little rock, the master crafter also had to be special. The one fitting the bill happened to be truly excellent, but, alas, he did have his quirks, too. A recluse living on top of a tall, barren mountain, he did not take kindly to most uninvited intruders, sending them back rolling down the hill in the most unceremonious of manners. And he had plenty of secrets, too.

I had a plan; a good one that I thought through really well. But it only took a single cunning dwarf accompanied by two goons to force me into acting earlier than I’d planned to.

The Grove is a perilous wound on the face of the planet, home to the most fearsome creatures in all of Rock. Death himself has trod these paths, leaving in his wake freakish mutants who still bear within themselves a piece of his morbid nature.

No empty child has ever reached a year of age, yet I am now 13. It has been a long and miserable 13 years, where the best I can manage to do is walk with difficulty. Sometimes, I cannot even manage that.