By Alan Burt Akers
The twenty-first publication of the chronicle of Dray Prescot, and the 3rd quantity of the Jikaida Cycle.
Fame and fortune may well watch for the winners of the lifestyles and loss of life online game referred to as Jikaida, yet for Dray Prescot his triumphs appeared purely to convey infamy and misfortune. An Earthman transposed to the far-off global that circles the dual suns of Antares, Prescot needed to give you the option out of his Jikaida urban exile - for his place of birth wanted him in its hour of chance. however it appeared that destiny now might position him in a good extra terrifying online game - a treasure hunt performed out within the phantasm webbed catacombs of a haunted valley the place determined males got here to discover fortunes on the danger in their fans lives and their very own sanity.
Read or Download A Fortune For Kregen (Dray Prescot, Book 21; Jikaida Cycle, Book 3) PDF
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Additional resources for A Fortune For Kregen (Dray Prescot, Book 21; Jikaida Cycle, Book 3)
You must trust me, Mistress Sing,’ said Horus. ‘Trust that everything I do is for the good of the Imperium. ’ ‘It is not my place to understand,’ whispered the astropath. ’ ‘Tell me of Euphrati Keeler,’ said Horus. ’ LOKEN STILL TOOK Mersadie Oliton’s breath away. The Astartes were astonishing enough when arrayed for war in their burnished plate, but that sight had been nothing compared to what a Space Marine – specifically, Loken – looked like without his armour. Stripped to the waist and wearing only pale fatigues and combat boots, Loken glistened with sweat as he ducked and wove between the combat appendages of a training servitor.
Just the medicae deck, old man,’ said the guard, scrawling on a chit that would allow him passage through the ship to the medicae deck and back. ’ Sindermann nodded, taking the proffered chit and shaking both men warmly by the hand. ‘You’re good soldiers, boys,’ he said, his voice dripping with gratitude. ‘Good soldiers. ’ He turned quickly so that they didn’t see the relief on his face and hurried away down the corridor towards the Medicae deck. The companionways echoed with their emptiness as he made his way through the twisting maze of the ship, an idiot smile plastered across his puffing features.
In the interstellar distance, the closest star of the Isstvan system glinted, cold and hard against the blackness. The Eye of Horus glared from the top of the ship’s prow, the entire vessel having been refitted following the victory against the Technocracy, the bone-white of the Luna Wolves replaced by the metallic grey-green of the Sons of Horus. Within moments, another ship broke through, tearing its way into real space with the brutal functionality of its Legion. Where the Vengeful Spirit had a deadly grace to it, the newcomer was brutish and ugly, its hull a drab gunmetal-grey, its only decoration, a single brazen skull on its prow.