Breton Elder Scrolls Novels & Stories

“The Elders?” “Old bastards in robes. Celibate miseries. Live like monks. They have way too much influence,” Lucas growled, examining the remnants of his emptied glass. “Brent, Elder Brent is the one you want to be friends with. Looks like a shaved mole without the robe.”

Brand felt the weight of it like a heavy shroud over his shoulders. He closed his eyes and breathed in the sharp night air appreciating the smells and sounds of the sea. His family had been land locked in Wyoming for centuries now, living in the middle of a large national forest area. He hadn't realized how much he had missed the ocean. The familiar, briny scent. The soothing sound of the waves hitting the shore. The occasional sea bird calling overhead. Ah, small things to be thankful for in this time he was stuck in. "Don't react, Brandur the Destroyer." Every muscle tensed as he heard the whispered words behind him. He'd been caught unawares in his revelry. "I am Bjorn. I am of Clan Sköll

“This is the part they hide.” Eli appeared from the steam like a ghost, his coat uncreased, his smile unreadable. “Welcome to the underbelly,” he said lightly. “You wanted cracks in the Citadel? Here they are.” Abigail’s hand twitched near her knife. “You still haven’t told us why you’re helping.” “Because sometimes,” Eli said, tilting his head, “it’s fun to see how the game shifts.” He led them through a side corridor, past rusted doors and flickering lamps, until they came to a hatch marked with faded symbols. Two quick knocks. The door opened a slit, wary eyes peering out.

Drago had a death grip on her arm, trying to calm her, but who could be calm at a time like this? The golden beast lumbered toward them, then stopped directly in front of Drago, letting out a low growl, steam puffing from it’s huge nostrils. When Drago growled in return, Madchen jumped, trying to free herself from Drago’s grip, but he wasn’t letting her go.

The power that ran through my veins was almost addictive and I knew that Chase was feeling it too. We stepped through the fire back into the room where Lucas and Rev and the Elders waited for us. Chase walked out first and I saw the pride in Lucas’s eyes as Chase turned around to let them look at his dragon. The Elders were murmuring to themselves and I could see that they were slightly shocked. “What is your beast’s name?” Elder Cliff asked Chase. “Brantley,” he answered. “Magnificent,” Elder Victor said. Abeloth stirred within me and I knew he was urging me to show him off for some reason. To me he was magnificent and a perfect fit and I stepped through the fire having given Chase his mome

Just sat there, one hand on River’s hand, as if that contact alone could keep him tethered to this world. *** By the time the third morning came, I was a ghost wearing my own skin. I was at my desk when the message arrived. A formal summons sealed with the Elders' crest. Brent watched me read it, his brows furrowed. "What do the old bats want?" "No idea." I did have an idea. They wouldn't summon me for any other reason. I was standing in front of the tall doors to their little council hall by noon. The Elders’ chamber was lit with golden firelight, the scent of incense heavy in the air. The five oldest wolves of the pack sat around a crescent-shaped table, their eyes sharp despite their age.

said Brent, in a quiet tone, Letting out a heavy breath, "I understand, but still having more of us walk this planet is not the best or wise choice to make," said Gretchen, "Please let this remain with us, I don't want her to know about it for now," said Gretchen, "Yea," replied Brent. * * * * The elders of the coven sat around a big table covered with scrolls and letters, in a well-lit room, that had engravings and symbols well carved out on the walls.

My name is Elora and I reside at the Blue Mountain Packhouse. I have a slim figure, long curly blonde hair which I usually wear up in a bun so it is out of my face. My eyes are a deep blue which I love. I am not a normal girl though. You see I am a shewolf, my rank at the packhouse is an omega. I don’t know my parents because they passed away when I was just a tiny baby, so I don’t have any memories of them. The only thing I have is a necklace locket from my mother. I have never taken it off because it makes me feel close to her spirit.

Carmen arrived, carrying the neatly laid out trays: appetizers, cloth napkins, clean glasses. She presented a bottle of wine so we could see the Lenton Brae label. and then served us. "Enjoy," she said bluntly. “She hates us,” I said to Day. "Did you realize we're going to have half-assed service?" for the whole trip, right? "That's better than a tit in the face." - What it is! Don't tell me you didn't like it. “Okay, I'm a normal person. What can I say?