Of Blood and Loss

Of Blood and Loss

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing2h 50m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, May 27, 2020
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Fiction
Fantasy
Nudity; Violence; Scars; Morgan is a gladiator, a warrior that lived by his own fists. He lived and died by his own hands. His father was some elite, and thought of the boy as only some bastard, eventually throwing him out on the boy's 9th birthday. Ever since, the only home he had was his arena. The only family he had was his arena mates. Wierdly, life had been going pretty well until his entire town was destroyed. His home, his friends, his family all burned. All lost to embers. By some miracle Morgan survived and he must take revenge for the home and family he has lost. But the world is a very contorted place, and he learns how Blood and Loss is bound, with the same ties that connect us to people. The world is a broken place, and Morgan needs a home.
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"Why did you do this to us? Why take dying and dead minds and force them on unwilling and unknowing random people?" Her voice did not raise, but the few physical items in the room began to shake, and the air to on a distinct smell of sulphur. "Why not just let us live normal lives? Why burden us with this?" Eventually It spoke. "I will tell you what I told those you host. Only Heaven, Hell, and their respective rulers are eternal, and even the Master of Lies and his domain shall yet fall under the sword of the One that the Druids called the White God." Rated T for the beginning of Chapter 3 See last chapter for information on my lack of updates. Also, this is one of earliest stories that I have written(discounting the ones that I wrote when I was about four), but I only re-found it recently. To those who have read it before it got 'revamped', it was once called 'Rosella Tiger'.

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