Shadowrun Elves Novels & Stories

Dwarven traveling songs appeared to serve both entertainment and practical purposes, keeping the group's pace steady and maintaining alertness. Her thoughts drifted to the Wood Elves waiting ahead. What would they be like, these elves who rejected the structured society of their High Elf cousins? Would they welcome her scholarly inquiries or view her with suspicion? The accounts she'd read in the Sylvanae Archive described them as wild but wise, more connected to natural magic than their city-dwelling relatives. Aldergon had mentioned that they painted their arms with earth-toned dyes and lived in harmony with the forest, a stark contrast to the High Elves' carefully controlled environment.

The attack comes before we reach Fang territory. We're moving through dense forest, maybe an hour from our target, when Finn suddenly stops. "Do you hear that?" I strain my hybrid senses, filtering through normal forest sounds. Then I catch it. Movement. Lots of movement. Coming from multiple directions. "Ambush!" Marcus roars. "Defensive formation!" We barely have time to react before they burst from the trees. Not possessed wolves. Something worse. Elves. At least thirty of them, their eyes glowing red with demonic corruption. They move with inhuman speed, their natural grace twisted into something predatory.

Yolanda and I alighted on the light elf terrain: Alien glimmers of the whitewashed, satin blue, finely featured elves, who towered over us in silken, slender forms, held out pearl gray mushrooms and glowing yellow fruits, circling us in a whirlwind as their crystal palaces and strange, arcane stone temples blurred as they fractaled. The tribe of Ljossalfar splintered like ice.

A very powerful relic that enabled one locate mystically hidden places. He had found his uncle’s lair, but he could not enter because it was protected with an iron clad barrier by a necromancing fey, a very ancient and powerful spell. They elves were an ancient specie that were believed to be the very first of creation to walk the earth and its numerous planes, they were peace loving, very kind hearted, accommodating species that were born with supernatural abilities like magic from birth. The fey were a subcategory of elves, an ever-evolving specie.

“Amy, would you like to explain it to Jay, or do you want us to explain?” Amy looked up at Jay, “well, I’m not just any wolf... we are not just any wolves,” she started, as she motioned to herself and her leadership team, “we are... I am a Shadow wolf.” She said. Jay looked at his mate. “A Shadow wolf?” He questioned with furrowed eyebrows. “They are any ancient line of Elite Guards created by the Moon Goddess.” Ali whispered. “They’ve been gone for over one hundred years. It was said that their main pack was dispatched by... well, I’m not sure who but their numbers dwindled.

The place where they were hidden was named Unoholm and what is left of it still stands. The vast knowledge of the elves worked in their favor for a while, but the Darkened one, clever in all things evil, started converting captured elves into dark elves, darkening their souls and twisting them up physically. The dark elves proved very useful to him, he almost brought the mighty Elven lands to their knees.

I must keep going, even though I am exhausted and sweating, because this is the only way I can win. Then I hear it—a noise behind me, a rustle. I tighten my grip on the hilt. “Who’s there?” I whisper, turning slowly. The forest answers with silence. But then—I saw a shadow between the trees. Someone is watching me. For the first time since my seventh rebirth, I realize I may not be the only one with memories.

"No — im... impossible!" The ground under the Shadowpine line split open. Not much. Just enough. Roots burst up like spears, wrapping around legs, tripping wolves mid-charge. My old pack mates yelled and slashed at them. One shaman in the back started chanting, hands glowing green, trying to push back whatever the hell I'd just done. Gunnar stared at me, eyes wide for the first time since I met him. "Elva —"

Zinjo kept his tone neutral and indifferent. "Is that why you came to the wedding?" Aurelia kept her mean words to herself and focused on Sojobo. "Yes, the first few ingredients are of the mortal realm, but since the shadow people exist in the beyond as well, we higher beings are the binding agents. Mine is Divine lightning." Sojobo's hands moved rapidly, and he chanted a small stormcloud appeared over the glass. Tiny bolts of lightning galvanized the runes. The glass had grown into a four-foot urn complete with a lid. Zinjo looked over at Aurelia, "I was not expecting it to be so big," He tapped it with a single finger, not a burn mark touched his hand.

Eldion picked up a piece of charred wood and threw it to the passageway. As soon as the charred wood touched the thorny plants on the floor, it was smothered by the slithering stems while several thorns shot at it like darts. Eldion remembered Rolho and knew that the plants fit the description of the terandu that can shoot poison thorns on their victims.