Elven Village Name Generator Novels & Stories

Taiya – (Tah-EEY-ah) Jeylin – (JAY-linn) Layna – (LAY-nah) The Hiamaar – (HIGH-ah-mahr) (Northern Elves) The Chi-maaya – (Chee-MAHyah) (The Faerie Folk) Elyta – (El-EE-tah) Hayle – (Hale) Creatures Goblins: Gerth – (Gurth) Hruge – (Roodge) Oh’Kapi – (Oh-KAH-pee) Ma’veth – (Mah-VETH) Ma’vhor – (Mah-VORE) Weapons Grenyaar: Khortaal – (Kor-TAHL) – Slightly curved sword Khor – (Kore) – Large dagger Dwarvish: Styrha – (STIR-hah) – Obsidian dagger

Aelanor sat down with a motley group of creatures, an orc, two humans and an elf. "So, I saw that Vladimir had put up the sign 'Lowest Prices Here,' and I wrote beside mine, 'Main Entrance Here'." The orc guffawed and others joined in. Aelanor stifled a laugh. "And who might you be, fair lady?" one of the humans smiled at her. "I am Aelanor," she said, denouncing her title. "And you are?" "I am Lavinus," he said, "and this is my sister, Lavinia." He nodded at the blonde woman sitting next to Aelanor who looked all but identical to the man except her hair was tied behind her neck and a slightly lighter blue eyes.

“That reminds me… we need a name. We’re building more than a pack, we’re building a kingdom. Should we call it Seralyn? Or something else?” Suggestions came flying from every direction. “Moonvale!” someone shouted. “Whitefang Keep!” yelled another. “Daeira’s Den!” Tarin heckled, earning a round of laughter and my tomato-red blush. I rolled my eyes but grinned. “Real funny, Tarin.” Riven leaned close, smirking. “I like Daeira’s Den. Sounds sexy.” Kael snorted, deadpan as always. “Sounds like a bar.” Auren, wide eyed, chimed in. “What about Seralyn though? It feels… right. Like it belongs to all of us, not just one person.”

Everyone gathered around immediately, congratulating us, hugging us, ruffling Xander’s hair like he was the one who’d done the hard part. “Alright, alright,” Kael said, raising his hand like a mock teacher. “We need names. Come on, the best name wins my eternal respect.” “Or scorn,” Vanessa muttered. “Which is more likely.” “I vote for Blazewind.” Kael puffed his chest. “Strong. Dramatic. Sounds like a warrior.” Vanessa snorted. “Sounds like a name you’d give a horse.” “What about Elias?” Kaida offered, gently in our minds. “It means ‘light of the sun’ in ancient Lycari.”

He tells him what the elf told us and what we saw. “How many dragons did you smell?” Merellien asks me. Rather than giving him a number, I begin listing them off for Ember. I want her to understand that they are ALL coming for the elves. “I smelled Avani, Tana, Kaylani, Kenna, Anala, Elio, Enya, Daichi, Ajax, Rhys, Enki, Kaze, Terra, Kawai, Ebba, Kano, Amne ...” I continue going through the list, leaving Naida’s name out, since I don’t want Faeler trying to use her against me. As I continue to go through the list, Merellien’s mouth drops open.

“We don’t have time for petty squabbles. Dayla, Lou, and I will protect Isabel. She’s not wrong. The castle isn’t safe for her and we won’t be able to get to her in time.” Seth is quiet and then nods, “I agree. It’s best to keep the Righ close to us. We have to go Damien. The breach wasn’t noticed till a moment ago and according to our watchers, there are more fighters than we anticipated.” How many elves could there be from one village? I must have voiced out my question aloud because Damien gives me a dark look, “Elven kind rival the demons in number. That village was only one in many. A lot of their kind have made homes underground. If Isabel is on the battlefield, she is a weakness-”

“My name isn’t Riven.” Kael crossed his arms. “Yeah, we figured.” “I’m Elara,” I said quietly. “Elara Riven Monroe.” The name felt heavy leaving my mouth. Damon stilled. Cassidan’s brow furrowed. Kael just stared. “Elara…” Damon repeated. “Monroe as in—” “A runaway princess. Nothing more,” I finished. Kael let out a low breath that almost sounded like a laugh. “Unbelievable.” Damon looked at him. “Kael.”

CHAPTER 168 THE WEAVERS Those who lived in the River Land, like the inhabitants of the River Land, were known as the Weavers of Destiny or you could just call them the Weavers and they were a unique blend of seers, artisans, and villagers who were bound by a communal understanding of the mystical forces flew by, they constructed their villages with a deep respect for the natural balance and utilizing elven craftsmanship and ancient techniques that allowed their homes to blend seamlessly into the beautiful landscape.

“I don’t understand. What are you doing here? How were you accepted?” “I blended in, the minute I stepped into this land. Mariners are not enemies to the Elven clan, yet, in any place, a different specie is rarely accepted by the land people, thanks to how greedy everyone seems to be these days.” he said. “Most creatures plan a takeover, this is why the Elves secluded themselves, into hiding, rejecting other breeds.” “What’s your name?” “I’m Nameless.” He outstretched his hands to me, which I took in my hands, shaking it.

I said. “Ilsevet,” Elara said. “It is not a pack name. Not Ashveil, not Duskmoor, not Thornwolf, not even a hunter faction designation I recognize from any record my family ever kept. Whoever it belongs to has been using it exclusively in communications with Corven and, according to what we intercepted last night, with at least two other informants inside Vane’s remaining network.” I felt the name land in my chest like a struck bell, my mind racing back to Ysolde’s translated pages only an hour earlier, the syllables of it echoing strangely, as though I had heard it somewhere long before tonight.