Dwarven King Novels & Stories

He turned around as soon as he heard the click of the door. "Greetings, his Majesty. You called for me?" Lenn asked, bowing at him. The king sighed. He thought for several moments trying to formulate the words. He looked tired. "You might now know about the upcoming war." He looked at Lenn who nodded. The King took another pause and continued, "This isn't going to be a normal war with weapons." "Isn't the Dark Lord a human, his Majesty?" Lenn asked, being bemused. "He was never a human Lenn, nor can be said of any creature, who doesn't have any heart. To answer your question, he is a witch. Black witch." The King replied.

They all welcomed him with a round of applause. "The Two Tower masters ; Darrow May and Jamila Jez." They also clapped. "The Eleven Vampire elders!" "The Six Dragon elders!" "His Royal Highness, king Zack Of the Dragon Kingdom and His Royal Highness king Dur Of the vampire Kingdom!" "Her Royal Majesty, Queen Ann of the Vampire Kingdom" (The mother of the twelve dragons. The Queen of the Dragon Kingdom has gone on an eternal slumber, after she gave birth to her twelve dragons.)

As soon as the man appeared, the crowd either knelt or bowed in unison once again. “Greetings to the Dravon War King!” The man was none other than Wyot Dalibor, the Dravon War King who ranked sixth among the Jademora Empire’s Thirteen Warriors. Wyot raised his hand in response to their greetings, casting Zared a sideways glance. Adair hurriedly said, “Dravon War King…” Wyot waved his hand dismissively.

He was dressed in an intricate ensemble of only a robe that left his chest peaking through it, showcasing his hard muscles bigger than that of Seff. His face looked familiar but still a lot harsher than any Lycan's I had seen before. In a way he could be called dangerously beautiful. “Of course I am not him, I am Rozzen Darrow, the King of the Darrow Kingdom,” he said, his voice heavier and guttural, making me wonder if he ever spoke for it to sound like this.

She looked up in deep thoughts and then her features sags in defeat. "Very well then." She tells me. "I'll tell of what I know." And thus began the tale. 'There was a time when we thrived , a masterful race of warriors, our abilities left us god-like and powerful, and we stood next to gods as the magic sung in our veins, and it was a great pride to one of the Mage folk. But power comes with envy and envy left long enough comes with it's own destruction, it started with the Elder Dragon Dracul, the name for which your lover now bears, He and the first King of the West, it was they that begun what would be known as the Great Decimation.

She heard footsteps and turned her head to look who it was. "Dante! Oh my gods it is you!" Dante was the Crown Prince of the Northern Demon Citadel. He had bronze skin, like he had just got done tanning. His hair was indian long and black. He had beautiful blueish green eyes. Demons were almost pretty much like vampires. Their eyes hold the power rings. The more rings the more powerful. Their nails were just as sharp as well. Their ears were pointed and usually adorn with earrings. They had wings and an actual tail. Belle always made fun of Dante when he got mad at school because his tail would pop out along with his horns. Being a royal bloodline he could hide majority of his features in th

The walls of the cavern were embedded with raw, uncut diamonds and rubies the size of human skulls, catching the ambient light and turning the cavern into a twisted, glittering cathedral. At the very center of this unimaginable wealth, sitting casually upon a massive throne carved from pure gold and the fossilized bones of an ancient leviathan, was Aurelius. The Dragon King didn't look like a monster backed into a corner. He looked like a god waiting for his worshippers. He was still in his human form, the dark, liquid-like fabric draped over his lower half, his pale, scarred chest exposed. His molten silver eyes locked onto me the moment we entered, completely ignoring the towering, furious

What in the name of the creators? His eyes expressed all the surprise he felt, but he didn't let them falter his steps as he marched dauntlessly towards them. They were all standing, including the princess, and finally, he was standing in front of them. "People from the Gada Kingdom" there was a grunt at the end of his voice. A smart person would know he was having a spiteful feeling seeing them there. "To what do I owe this pleasure!" Princess Martha looked around, not looking for anything in particular.

I said. Karl stepped closer. “Yet you let her live, why?” Karl said, disappointed. Because her scent felt familiar, and I hated that. Because I want her to realize how evil humans are. Because I want her to feel the same pain her people caused. Because I want to take everything from her till she has nothing. I want her to suffer every second. “She mentioned the king’s mark,” I said finally. His expression darkened instantly. “That’s impossible.” He said to himself.

“You of all people surely won't dare to bring up a suggestion like that.” Ventimus held his tongue infuriating him further. “You know what black magic did to us, what it did to the late King, yet you dare to bring up a suggestion like that.” Ventimus' body stiffened as he heard the low growl rumbling from the King. He was two centuries old outliving the King for a century but the King; being a hybrid, was stronger than him, than any of them. Seeing Kallias’ eyes glow a deep gold told him the King was withholding his anger.