Goblin King Costume Labyrinth Novels & Stories

The Rogue King. He doesn’t look like what the stories described him as: no monstrous eyes, no wild hair, or dripping fangs. He’s dressed in black, with a large coat draped over his shoulders with matching black gloves on his hands. His hair is a darker shade of black, and his pupils are a bloody, thirsty red with a scar running over his left eye. He stares blankly at Rael with a calmness that makes Rael’s instincts scream flight. The rogue king is a scary man.

It didn’t take much effort to see where the ruler of all the goblins is, when this existence called goblin chieftain itself is the biggest in the village, and is equipped with decently forged armour and weapons. My eyes hovered around the goblin king. It was well-guarded by five goblin commanders, which had better armours and equipment than other goblins, but still a bit lower in terms of defence compared to the goblin chieftain’s. As I lifted my gaze back up, that was when I saw something that managed to make me freeze on my feet. There was a girl beside the goblin king. And she’s… a human?

Amira and Danym became close with each other as days passed by. They go hunting together without Agnes and Jake. Baldwin and his other friends became busy in the mining area outside the palace. The King appointed him to be his daughter's bodyguard. Danym accepted the opportunity while secretly sneaking inside the palace at night. He saw the blazing light here when Oregon we're attacks. It's in the Labyrinth Kingdom, here in this place. He was sure that the heart of magic is here and someone is hiding it. He will do everything to find it and get it to whoever stole and keep it.

His eyes glittered and his pupils dilated when he looked at me walk towards him. "You look delicious, Moya Lyubov," he said and looked me up at down. "Thanks. So do you." I smiled slyly and checked him out too. He had worn black pants and a black tunic which had red embroidery on it. He wore a gold chain around his neck and a belt around his waist. His hair was gelled back and he looked every inch the King he was. A very, very hot King. He bent down to kiss me, but I ducked.

The silky fabric of the robe's opening is cutting off his airway. "Your Majesty... I have always been... loyal to you and your household. I could not have done this," He chokes out. "Why would my highest ranked adviser lie to me? Ahithophel found this..." He roars, releasing his hold on Baruch. He immediately collapses to the floor. His hands clasp around his throat as he violently hacks and gasps for breath. One guard approaches the king, an intricately handwoven basket in his brawny hands. The pattern and shape spark my memory. I've seen this type of basket before. The palace guard hands it to the King, then retreats silently into the corner where he came.

When she moved, the dress shimmered like it was covered in hundreds of dew drops. It was time to go. Niamh left her room and descended the staircase. There at the bottom, stood Lorcan. He looked every inch an Elven king, His raven-black hair was loose and smooth, contrasting dramatically with the forest-green robe he was wearing. Golden thread bordered the cuffs and neck of the floor-length robe. On his head sat a crown of twisted branches. Never had an elflord looked more noble, more kingly, than Locarn did at that moment.

"This is an exchange, king, not a robbery. If you want my power, you can't hold back." Violet dove in, sensing Curzon's resistance as she delved into his shadows. Ghosts emerged, the last wisps of the Monarchs empowering Curzon. Chione's essence waved gold before Violet. Flames warmed her feet—the remnants of Queen Rabiah. Vines choked out the fire, showing King Kasimir's influence. Violet waded through it all until she found nothing but cold. It seeped into her bones, freezing her heart. The chill etched itself onto her skin, creating a blanket of lace. Violet wrapped the cold around herself and pushed it into the great hall.

He couldn't afford to fail. *** Darkfire Grendel, one of the betas of the lycan king entered the king's private room, bowing low before his ruler. The room was dimly lit by a few flickering torches, casting long shadows across the stone walls. The king sat upon a large throne, carved from the bones of fallen enemies, his massive frame imposing and powerful. He wore a simple tunic of black leather, adorned with silver clasps and a thick fur cloak draped across his broad shoulders.

His heart made a beat as he recalled the feel of her lips on his, and the sound of her voice when she said majesty, he could sense the sadness on it. Nonetheless, he shifted his mind away, wanting to face the work ahead of him, today he wanted to reveal the state of the community business, how ministers of accounting and finance had embezzled the profit. As he soaked, his seamstress reentered the room with his royal robe. The robe was made of the finest silk and embroidered with gold thread. It was a deep crimson color, the color of royalty, and was cut in a way that accentuated the King's broad shoulders and powerful physique.

Still, almost nothing is the same as before. I’m a zombie, the living dead, the supreme specious of the planet, and the leader of one of the largest hordes in North America. I’m one of the Zombie Kings. My job is to keep the peace among zombies, keep my horde fed, and hunt humans for sport. I’m the stuff of Lacey’s nightmares now, and yet somehow, I have to rekindle our relationship so that I’m not forced to use her as a breeder.