Elven Novels & Stories

They dress in blues and greens, usually in garments that are loose and flowing. They live in the Vesve Forest, they are magic resistance having the power to use arcane magic, archers and trained military. Wild elves appear light or dark brown, have a white or gray hair, and live in forested areas. Having the power to to help lost adventurers, though usually such "help" involved capturing intruders, magically altering their memories, and setting them free some distance away from their homelands. Wood elves appear to have coppery skin and green, brown, or hazel eyes. Wood elven hair is usually black or brown. They live in the province of Valenwood, have the abil

The leprechaun blew out his cheeks but disappeared to comply. ------------------------- Hearing Aurora's call from the hill, Zoltan rallied the elves. "Fight well!" Ithel raised the Horn of Sonority and blew with all his might. The sound rang through the whole land. In front of the elves, the fairies ripped open the space in order to portal the warriors across the battlefield instantly. The Elves ran into the gnomes like a hammer. Immediately some of the rocky creatures went down before they could draw their swords.

“Well, that’s Princess Wolf Enim-saj.” “Princess Wolf Enim-saj, really?” I turned to look at him, raising one of my eyebrows. “Yes, Princess Wolf Enim-saj.” He had a silly grin on his face. “She was a beautiful, beautiful wolf with amber-colored eyes. So beautiful that Zeus wanted her all to himself. But Enim-saj was not interested in Zeus and preferred a more handsome and stronger gentleman wolf name Ekul.” I laughed and Luke continued. “Artemis saw how perfect the two wolves were for each other, so she blessed them as mates.”

Nine was their sacred number since it connected the nine realms that existed within Yggdrasil. “I choose Gungnir, the great spear of Odin, Angurvadal, the stream of anguish, Gram, who brought death to Fafnir, Freyr’s sword, to fight when I am weak, Dáinsleif, to inflict wounds that never heal, Lævateinn, so that my step will never falter, Skofnung, the supernatural blade, Hǫfuð, the great sword of Heimdall and lastly Mjolnir.” Malachi chose his nine gifts and the rest were returned to the vault. These gifts would be sent to his house in Seward and he knew Jessica would banish them to his study.

I breathed. “The Dark Elves’ mountains,” Rivyn replied grimly. “The Elves are cousins to the Fae,” he said quietly as he encouraged Coryfe to move forwards. The horse did not like the location, reacting to the sulphur smell of the soil, and communicated his dislike through his movement, each step reluctant as if he anticipated the ground would disappear before him.

In the early morning sun, Elaine could still see Andrew's grin as he left her in the shadows of the night. “You idiot,” The knight murmured, fingering the bright gold letters of the book, thinking she should have let him kiss her for what he’d done. Both so frustrating and yet the salvation of her people, “You wonderful idiot.” Elaine took a seat in the wooden chair, her hand opening the age-old book. Eyes scanned the countless names and gifts of fire, ice, and even wind. Some could speak into minds, and those who were so powerful they could bring down kingdoms or even end the 200’s year war.

Dylan drove through the dirt track in a black Ford SUV with tinted glasses. It was a gift he received from Isabel three days ago for no reason in particular, and it came in handy, as he could go anywhere he pleased without having Xavi drive him there. His current destination was the pack’s border, and he was accompanied by Fernando who was giving him directions. It was a two hours drive according to the teenager. There were tall trees on either side of the road. Dylan gazed out the window, beyond the slim trees in front and into the forest. The environment was serenely beautiful and the smell of brisk breeze was addictive. As a clearing came into sight, Dylan wasted no time in turning off th

Then she spoke, her voice softening. “My name is Elira Vaelthorn. And you’re right—I am no merchant. I am an elf of Sylvaen.” Kaelen blinked. The name stirred faint memories of stories whispered in the tavern, tales of an unseen city hidden deep in the forests, where elves lived beyond the reach of men. “Then why are you here?” he asked. Elira lowered herself against a tree trunk, pressing a hand to her wound. Her silver hair spilled across her shoulders like liquid moonlight. She looked less like a traveler and more like a fallen star.

she asked, not wanting to believe it was possible, but she didn’t see any alternative either, what with the dragon being gone and having not taken off from the mountain behind him. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” he said, folding his arms across his muscular chest again. “I’m Slate Everclaw. I come from a long line of shifter dragons. We used to occupy the land where your kingdom and the other eleven are now located, before we were robbed of our most precious treasure, one that allowed my people to withstand the human threats that were slowly encroaching on our lands. Without the gem, my kind cannot transform without the moon in the sky. So… we were forced to take to the mountains. We

Laryn Sir Orland Locksy is a weasel in every sense of the word. I hate him and I hate the realm he lives in. Mucky skies, putrid air, and immoral people. I call it hell's realm. It's also my favorite place to collect treasure. My dragon brothers and I have been many times. It's always a challenge and, best of all, dangerous. I should feel apprehensive bringing my bride here, but what I feel is exhilaration clear to the tip of my dragon's tail.