Ekler: wraiths Türü:
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- The road here glistens. Wispy wraiths of steam rise from the tarmac. Somehow, a rain burst has already struck, but the clouds overhead look too wispy to have done the deed. Cars hiss by on the wet road.
- About Beatrice he drew his arm. Together, almost as soundlessly as wraiths, they stole away, out through the office, out to the hallway, into the dim light of the arcade once more.
- All fighting stops as everyone and everything turns to see the cause. The Black Knights and otherworldly things closest to the altar are violently thrown into the air. This unseen force comes nearer to Eoin and Alastor, tossing aside the Black Knights while the demons and wraiths flee in absolute terror of what is coming. Eoin stands ready to face whatever may come. Expecting to be faced by some powerful new foe, Eoin is nearly struck dumb when out emerges a raven haired girl, no older than fifteen years, wearing white.
- Alastor finds himself guided farther away from Eoin than he would want by the evil congregation. With son separated completely from father, the wraiths and Black Knights unleash the full force of their hatred upon the Knight. The skirmishes earlier were nothing more than a means to gauge the strength of this youngest member of their household. Try as he might, Alastor slowly becomes overwhelmed; the strength of his heart no longer matching that of his blades.
- As Amber moved forward small, alert ghosts rose from the undergrowth and scurried silently thence: a circumstance which made him very unhappy. Even a brilliant chorus of sharp barks from an adjacent street failed to convince him that he had merely disturbed a pack of jackals, after all, and not the disconsolate brooding wraiths of those who had died and been buried in the imposing ruined tombs, what time Kathiapur boasted ten thousand swords and elephants by the herd.
- The dark wraith circled wider, searching every inch of the ground for anything out of the ordinary. The scorching light of its eye passed over the mound that hid her. For the briefest instant their eyes met. Inwardly she withered. Never had she sensed so much concentrated evil. She felt small and helpless, captured and immobile in its glare. Her stomach felt drum taught. Her bowels threatened to release.
- "Why the undead?" Redthorne gestured to himself. "I’m a wizard of the 11th order of White Light. I have quested far and wide in my search for knowledge and power. Yet wherever I go it seems I encounter undead. Zombies, skeletal warriors, mummies, ghouls, wraiths, ghasts, vampires, and the occasional lich," he ticked them off on his fingers. "That's why I hired the Cleric. I dislike those of the holy orders to tell you the truth, too full of themselves in my opinion, but they are useful." He paused a moment to stare at the head and spine Cuthbert had left on the table. "Well, usually."
- He looked down again at the grey wraith in the water, then, as they turned and walked slowly back across the bridge together, he said, suddenly:
- I tried again, creating a clear mental image of myself pushing through the door--while remembering to breathe. Hey, you never know. Suddenly the resistance vanished. I opened my eyes and screamed in panic (a rather masculine scream, I'll have you know) as I saw my arms buried up to my elbows in the door. And I don't mean through the door, I mean in the door. They seemed to have passed through the wood without damaging the door itself, as if I'd become some kind of spectral wraith that could walk through walls. I could still feel my hands. I wiggled my fingers just to make sure.
- The men stared, electrified at her appearance. White as a bone, her beautiful violet eyes full of haunting fear; her hair, torn down by the wind and flickering in long black strands about her face, far below her waist, she looked like a wraith of the storm.
- Taking the dress with me, I left the hut for the last time. Leaving my horse tied to a tree, I walked to the graveyard, through the ruined garden. There it was a mass of weeds, but over my darling's grave grew a self-sown orange bush, of which the scented petals fell in showers on to the mound beneath. As I drew near, there was a crash and a rush. A great baboon leapt from the centre of the graveyard and vanished into the trees. I could almost believe that it was the wraith of Hendrika doomed to keep an eternal watch over the bones of the woman her jealous rage had done to death.
- It was a battle, too, for she grew rapidly worse and soon was delirious, babbling of strange things which tore at the hearts of the Wag-boys. Day after day, night after night, she lay racked and tortured, fighting the brave fight of youth, and through it all the six thieves tended her. They were ever at her side, coming and going like the wraiths of her distorted fancy, and while three of them divided the day into watches the other three ran the bunk-house, keeping strict account of every penny taken in. They O. K.'d one another's books, and it would have fared badly indeed with any one of them had he allowed the least discrepancy to appear in his reckoning.
- "Figured as much," Fire Chief Cinder said with resignation. "That’s wraith District for you. Something took out our magic user soon as he set up." Cinder gestured with a gloved hand. Across the street next to the water wagon was another man in a firefighter outfit, lying on his back on the ground staring sightlessly at the sky, his lips moving feebly.
- Going to take it right up to the village, now? queried she, anxiously glancing at the crowd of white and silent faces, all eagerly staring--staring like so many wraiths in a strange dream.
- On and down, more slowly now, crouching, slinking, heavily oppressed, tempted to snarl at boulders and tear at wraiths of fog. He had no idea of the miles he had travelled. But the ice was thicker now, the cold intense.
- That was all, but it was enough to bring the light to Cecil's eyes and a sudden triumphant gladness to his heart. At last he approached the land of his vision, at last he should find the bridge whose wraith had faded before him into the west eight years before!
- "Perhaps I will redeploy my forces," suggested Fire Chief Cinder under his breath as he edged back out of the way. Very well; he was finally willing to admit it, it was time to put in for a transfer. wraith District clearly had the better of him. He had lasted longer than his immediate two predecessors, by at least two months. That should be good for something, if not a full month-long rest cure.
- The girls listened seriously, as they always did when their Captain started one of her "sermonettes" as Julie called them; and when she had concluded, Joan said: "In other words, you want us to starve the poor wraith still more by withdrawing any thoughts from the matter whatever?"
- Bill's canoes pushed swiftly ahead over the long ground swell until three quarters of an hour later, the narrow entrance to the bay was in sight. Now their pace slackened, the dip of their paddles in the quiet water became barely perceptible, and hugging the deep shadow of the cliff, the canoes glided into the bay like dark water wraiths on a jet black background.
- She came down in the morning a mere wraith of beauty, as it seemed to the little servitor, shutting her lips hard, but ready to burst into a shower.
- Fog comes dense on us at Port Glasgow, and incoming steamers, looming large on the narrowed horizon, steer sharply to the south to give us water. Enveloped in the driving wraiths we hear the deep notes of moving vessels, the clatter of bells on ships at anchor, and farther down, loud over all, the siren at the Cloch, bellowing a warning of thick weather beyond the Point.
- But despite the optimism of his words, Dan was not altogether certain that the wallowing wreck would hold together. There was nothing to do but wait and see. The situation he grasped in all its grievous details. He had never been so happy, so utterly at peace as aboard this derelict. No gilded barge of antiquity had ever been so glorious, so golden as this mangled wraith of the seas in the sunlit hours of the immediate past. Her voice, her laughter, had filled them with music, her presence with all the poetry and romance of the world, and the light in her eyes shining for him alone had filled him with a great tenderness.
- As he took a step forward he saw why the circle had gasped. Through the curtains of the cabinet came the semblance of a tenuous wraith in long, trailing robes of white. It was almost formless, its outlines seeming to melt into the gloom.
- They came slowly, the girl a slim wraith in the moon-light; in the open they stood for a moment, and Peter's heart weighed heavily within him as his mistress cried out once more for Jolly Roger. Her voice rose only in a sob, and ended in a sob. The last of her strength was gone. Her little figure swayed, and her face was white and haggard, and in her drawn lips and staring eyes was the agony of despair. She had lost, and she knew that she had lost as she crumpled down in the trail, crying out sobbingly to the footprints which led so clearly ahead of her.
- Alastor fights still, but sloppily, the swords of his enemies stuck in him. The demons and wraiths claw at him, but still he resists.
- Something tried to reach a venom-tipped claw the size of a minivan in through the window, and several of the spectral wraiths attacked it, leaving deep bloody gashes in the filth-encrusted scales. Whatever it was squealed like a live lobster in a pot of boiling water and quickly withdrew the claw.
- For a moment, he was sick of his life. It seemed that there stood before him, in that place of historic wraiths and memories, a girl, her eyes sad, but loyal and without reproof. For an instant, he could see a scene of centuries ago. A barbarian and captive girl stood in the arena, looking up with ignorant, but unflinching, eyes; and a man sat in the marble tiers looking down.
- "Romantic codswallop!" cried Ambrosius. Then he controlled himself. "Sunbeam, I love you. But you have set me a task I can never do. To look on your face is agony now for me; I will spend the rest of my life running from this last image I have of you, this gaunt, pale wraith of everything beautiful and innocent and good. Your eyes will hunt me to the ends of the world and I will have no rest."
- Like disheveled wraiths they passed, soundlessly, through eerie labyrinths and ways which might have served as types of Coleridge's "caverns measureless to man," so utterly drear they stretched out in their ghostly desolation.
- Imagine the unexpected arrival of the murdered Duncan's wraith at Macbeth's correct little dinner party, just after the soup had been removed--a break-down of the Prima Donna at the Opera, while executing some grand scena--or, in these High Church days of fashionable banns-publishing, the sudden uprising of some stern parent or Nemisitical Mawworm, to interrupt the glib utterance of the hair-parted-down-the-middle and lavender-kid-gloved curate of the period with the solemn veto, in basso profundo voice, "I forbid the banns!"-- and you will have some idea of the alteration and effect which the young imp's mischief created in the programme of Lady Inskip's pic-nic.
- The daughter went to a rear window, and gazed up at the mountain. The cloudless skies were still in hiding behind a curtain of mist. The woman was idly watching the vanishing fog wraiths, and her father came over to her side. Then, the baby cried, and she stepped back. Purvy himself remained at the window. It was a thing he did not often do. It left him exposed, but the most cautiously guarded life has its moments of relaxed vigilance. He stood there possibly thirty seconds, then a sharp fusillade of clear reports barked out and was shattered by the hills into a long reverberation. With a hand clasped to his chest, Purvy turned, walked to the middle of the floor, and fell.
- "Oh, I know of you quite well. Gawain, King of Halvard, haunted by shadowy wraiths in your future yet facing them with tenacious determination." She then turns to face Alastor. Her deep blue eyes softening. "And Alastor, tragedy incarnate. A man whose path even gods cannot see."
- At a signal, four men advanced, and, taking Bert by the legs and shoulders, carried him through a secret passage into the grounds. As silently as so many ghosts, they followed a road that led through the estate to the river's brink. There lay the swift sea-going yacht that Togi had mentioned. Bert was carried on board, the vessel slipped its moorings, and like a wraith passed down the Bay of Limon and out to sea.
- The steely wraith at her side lit up with smiles. Miss Gregory had heard his name as that of a dexterous assassin who had had a vogue in the time of Garibaldi.
- "I told you, Maximillian," Shaa was saying. "The wraith District near Sheepsend, that was where we would find them. Did you listen to me? No, of course not. You never listen to me, you never listen to anyone. Hodgetown, you said, so Hodgetown it had to be, halfway across the city."
- They are regarded as a death omen and should a person see a wraith of themselves then their days are surely numbered.
- But Spitz, cold and calculating even in his supreme moods, left the pack and cut across a narrow neck of land where the creek made a long bend around. Buck did not know of this, and as he rounded the bend, the frost wraith of a rabbit still flitting before him, he saw another and larger frost wraith leap from the overhanging bank into the immediate path of the rabbit. It was Spitz. The rabbit could not turn, and as the white teeth broke its back in mid air it shrieked as loudly as a stricken man may shriek. At sound of this, the cry of Life plunging down from Life's apex in the grip of Death, the fall pack at Buck's heels raised a hell's chorus of delight.
- Holgren appeared at dawn on the fourth day. We lugged the packs down my narrow wooden stairs to the carriage waiting below. It was a gray, foggy morning. The driver looked like a wraith perched on the front of the carriage; the horse, with tendrils of breath writhing from his nostrils, looked like a nightmare.
- Jereme disappeared like a wraith into the mist. Gabriel shrugged and started on the Beau-Pere. The smell from rotting cheese seemed to permeate the boat, and he had to spend extra time with a bottle of Mr. Clean to get rid of the odor. He was nearly finished when there was a familiar thickening that colored his vision.
- But, in spite of the fine weather and the steady breeze, there were signs of what our voyage would be when the 'barefoot days' were done. Out beyond the clear sky and tender clouds, the old hands saw the wraith of the rugged Cape that we had yet to weather. The impending wrestle with the rigours of 'the Horn' sent them to their preparations when we had scarce crossed the Line. Old Martin was the fore hand. Now, his oilskins hung out over the head, stretched on hoops and broomsticks, glistening in a brave new coat of oil and blacking.
- "Excuse me," Shaa said. "What disturbance in the wraith District are we discussing? I’m afraid my brother failed to update the news while I was in his custody."
- "They used potent enchantments to bend my will, I had no choice," she said, a tear rolling down her cheek," but now they will know the wraith of the most powerful sorcerer in the land," Shere looked back at us both menacingly.
- We raced for the window, but the shrieking started again. A pillar of scintillating energy sprang up in the center of the room where Alex stood, surrounding her in a maelstrom of wind and light. Luminescent wraiths circled the pillar, spiraling their way to the top and then down again.
- Wildfeather, part Yakima Indian and part Yukon Inuit, was well-versed in detection, assessment, and pursuit—had in fact earned his promotion to Special Forces by successfully tracking the infamous wraith Brigade during Operation Desert Sabre. It was jocularly rumored that he could determine, through vestigial evidence alone, the age, gender, and political persuasion of a midget pulverized in a cattle run.
- Oscar did not want to go aft again, but he had to. It was better to face a ghost than disobey Bucko Lynch. That is what the rest of us thought, too. We were all afraid to go aft, but more afraid not to. So we huddled close upon the second mate's heels, and clumped noisily upon the deck, as though to rout the wraith with our racket.
- Together then, quietly as wraiths, they stole into the next room; and there, from a window not as yet attacked, they spied out at the dark tree-tops that lay in dense masses almost brushing the walls.
- The gliding creatures, sleek and slender, reedlike, bending, delicate as wraiths, their bodies shaped from northern rainbows of amethyst and rose--if they should touch Ciara, if their loathsome hands should touch her....
- Joan nodded but remained silent. She was too occupied in glimpsing the vision of the one lone white man as she had first seen him, helpless from fever, a collapsed wraith in a steamerchair, who, up to the last heartbeat, by some strange alchemy of race, was pledged to mastery.
- The sun-fire of the plains danced in his eyes; a cob-web of golden mist rising out of the earth, beckoning wraiths and undulating visions--the breath of life, of warmth, of growing things--all between him and the hidden cottonwoods; a joyous sea into which he wanted to plunge without another minute of waiting, as he felt the gentle touch of her cheek against his shoulder, and the weight of her hand on his arm. That she had come to him utterly was in the low surrender of her voice. She had ceased to fight--she had given to him the precious right to fight for her.
- Silently as a wraith she went, now appearing in the open spaces, now vanishing, beneath the dense gloom of cedar boughs, till she reached a naked, lonely rock which stood almost upon the edge of the gulf. Opposite to this rock was a great mound such as ancient peoples reared over the bodies of their dead, and in the mound, cunningly hidden by growing shrubs, a massive door.
- As he spoke the wraith of a grey-headed man drew near. He had but one arm, for the other was hewn from him, and the byrnie on his left side was red with blood.
- "I heard," she said. "First that squid business on the water and now this new report of a disturbance in the wraith District. Just what did the two of you have to do with these things?"
- Why the undead? Redthorne gestured to himself. "I'm a wizard of the 11th order of White Light. I have quested far and wide in my search for knowledge and power. Yet wherever I go it seems I encounter undead. Zombies, skeletal warriors, mummies, ghouls, wraiths, ghasts, vampires, and the occasional lich," he ticked them off on his fingers. "That's why I hired the Cleric. I dislike those of the holy orders to tell you the truth, too full of themselves in my opinion, but they are useful." He paused a moment to stare at the head and spine Cuthbert had left on the table. "Well, usually."
- So busily engaged was he in this work that he paid not attention to what was taking place around him, and consequently did not see the shadowy figure that came flitting from tree to tree like a wraith of the great pinelands, finally reaching the oak against which Eli had leaned his gun.
- They travel forward without contest. The occasional lost soul they come across fleeing at the sight of them. It is an eternity before the stone altar of Alastor's dream comes into sight. Unfortunately, it is not unguarded. Black Knights, accompanied by demons and wraiths, surround the altar and the ring of stone spires.
- Gone now was all sight of the land that they had left. Unlike balloonists who always see dense clouds or else the earth, they now saw nothing. All alone with the sun that rushed behind them in their skimming flight, they fled like wraiths across the emptiness of the great void.
- Nasan retreated behind a pylon to berate herself. Here she was, hanging on the edges like some stray dog or wraith spirit. But she couldn't go face them, not yet. So close. Maybe Bat was alive, he'd survived the winter, and he was there just a few meters away. Or maybe he hadn't, and she was that close to finding out.
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