Posts tagged ‘elf’

March 27, 2014

Entry # 8 “Tell Us Your Elven Story”

by Len

female elf


Crimson Legacy by Len Weatherly

Lady Swarmstrike heard the shuffle of her daughter’s feet as she returned from her classes at the Crimson Academy. The lady of the house was pouring over some old tomes, and spoke over her left shoulder toward the hallway.

“How was your training today?”

There was only silence. It was not the first time Swarmstrike had been ignored by her daughter; so, she simply tucked her dark curls behind her pointed ear and continued her reading. Lady Swarmstrike’s face was flawlessly smooth, which belied her nearly three hundred years of life. She had seen many battles, but her visage still seemed that of a young girl. It had taken Swarmstrike much longer to settle down and have children due to her travelling across Delphia. She had not been prepared to have sole responsibility of her daughter, but the death of her husband left her unprepared for a lot of things.

Then Swarmstrike heard a sound she was not expecting, the light and hopeless sigh of her daughter. The lady slowly turned to see the young elf leaning in the doorframe, one arm across her torso and the other dangling down with parchment clutched in her slender fingers.

Her daughter, Greyhaven raised her hand and extended the letter but kept her silver eyes lowered. “They are wrong,” she muttered as her mother pulled the note away. As Lady Swarmstrike read the words, Greyhaven put her back on the doorframe and crossed both arms in a defensive posture.

Lady Swarmstrike,

Your daughter, Greyhaven, disrupted my class discussion today when she decided to argue the role humans and dwarves played in the War of Horded Magic. It is our duty to instill the correct teachings of that part of history. Apparently, Greyhaven’s grandfather has filled her mind with stories that simply are not true. However, your daughter refused to relent and was thus sent from my class. Any further instance such as this will result in her immediate expulsion from this academy.

Warmest regards,

Professor Vonorola

With warmth that neither Greyhaven nor Swarmstrike expected, the mother uncoiled her daughter’s arms and embraced her. There were several moments of silence as the two women let years of unspoken anger and resentment at the loss of their husband and father die. The realization that they now only had one another settled over them. For too many years, Swarmstrike had buried herself in her books while Greyhaven found solace in her painting.

Finally, Greyhaven exploded into an explanation. “Vonorola said that the dwarves closed themselves up in Dundersnuff to save themselves while the rest of the world burned, but Pops told me the dwarves closed their gates only after the majority of refugees from the surrounding areas were inside; AND that most of the dwarven soldiers were dispatched out to fight evil. Pops said that we were the ones that ‘tried to hide under the supposed safety of neutrality’. Mom, they are not teaching us what really happened. Vonorola told us that most of the humans fought alongside Rainor, but I know that is isn’t right. Pops said that the humans made some of the greatest sacrifices of all time during that war.”

“I had no idea that this is what the academy is teaching now,” Swarmstrike said, shocked.

Immediately, mother and daughter made their way to the Crimson Academy. Swarmstrike, because of her father’s legacy, was not questioned in any manner as she quickly paced through the halls looking for Professor Vonorola.

She found the teacher and cornered her in the hallway. “You claim to be telling our children the truth about the past, but you vomit lies and then blame the stench on my child. You will no longer be teaching at this Academy, if I have anything to do with it. I promise you that.”

“I teach the curriculum assigned to me, nothing more,” Vonorola stated in a stoic tone. “If you have a problem, take it to Marcev.”

“I plan to,” Lady Swarmstrike answered.

“I heard my name?” Marcev, the highest ranking official in the Crimson Academy had obviously been told of Swarmstrike’s presence on the school grounds and had made his way to see her.

Swarmstrike explained about the fallacies in Vonorola’s teaching, and was surprised at the regal elf’s response.

“Your words are far more venomous than the hordes of vermin you summon forth. Be away, and know that none of your blood line will ever be Crimson Elite.”

“My family will always hold true to the core values of what it means to Crimson, long after your spires collapse and your books burned. When the races you sneer and gawk at march upon the bodies of your deceased, we will remain Crimson. When the very soil of Alhaven drinks your blood and the carrion birds blot the sun, we will remain Crimson.”

They were banished from Alhaven that very day, escorted out by two armored guards. Swarmstrike left her tome open on the table. Greyhaven did not bring her expensive paints. They had the truth, and now they had each other.




November 14, 2013

… And the Sand Drew Breath

by Len

…And the Sand Drew Breath

The sand seemed a living being, moving and shifting under the feet of the weary soldiers. The heads of the men hung low; no sweat dropped from their brow for the devil sun had already stolen any fluids. One of the men turned around to try to measure the distance the squadron had walked. He lost all hope as the wind and sand had already covered their tracks. The thirteen men seemed as though they had been dropped in the middle of this wasteland and simply left to die. Still, there was nothing to do now but press on.

The men had not travelled much farther when they found what they had been searching for. A large serpentine head swung around to gaze at the troop of men who had dared disturb his meal. Long brown spines stood up on the back of the beast’s long neck, promising death. At the sight of their target, the men quickly shook the sense of doom that had gripped them for many days. The sight of the bloody, half-eaten giant reinstated it.

The four archers launched the first attack, a volley of arrows that did nothing but bounce off the thick and armored hide of the dragon. The serpent retaliated, dropping his lower jaw into the sand and then blasting it at the men. The archers did not get their shields up in time, and the skin was flayed from their bones. Two soldiers, each armed with a large axe, charged the dragon. One was pinned to the ground by the great claw of the beast. The other man landed a violent strike to the neck; scales fell away and the blood poured onto the sand. The dragon swung his spined tail and exploded the man’s head. At the same time, the beast bit the man pinned underfoot in half.

Five of the soldiers turned heel and ran away from the gory scene in front of them. They believed they stood a better chance out in the harsh desert than battling the far superior dragon. The remaining brave warriors did their best to spread out and circle up the beast. The only problem with that plan was that a dragon is deadly from every direction. With a quick jerk of his head, the dragon launched several spines at a soldier. The man’s shield managed to block the majority of the missiles, but a few found flesh. Thinking the dragon distracted, another man charged with a long spear. The dragon twisted out of the way with a quickness that betrayed its size. The man paid with his life. The attack was not completely in vain, the remaining soldier was able to drive his spear deep into the gut of the dragon. As the serpent turned to face his attacker, it once again filled its mouth with sand. The man tried to run, but was blasted down by the blown sand.

The man that had been struck by the flying spines began to feel the venom course through his veins. He dropped to his knees in the sand and started crawling in a panicked state. The dragon, too, knew that his life was ending. Its mouth dropped in to the sand, and it knew that it would never again have the strength to pull it back out.

The man crawled through the sand and ended up face to face with the dragon. The two dying creatures stared into one another’s eyes; a lifetime of thoughts, regrets, and hopes passed between them, though not a word was spoken. The sand seemed to drink the blood of dragon and man, and the sand drew breath.

August 22, 2013

Demon Wrought (Chapter 2)

by Len

Berg (3)

Demon Wrought

Chapter 2

The Cold

It had been a long day for Berg, and the night had been even more grueling. He usually enjoyed the attention, but tonight had been too much. Everyone was asking too many questions, and it was making his head hurt. He was finally sitting by himself, trying to order his thoughts.

“Are you alright, baby?” a voluptuous woman wrapped her arms around Berg’s neck. Her breasts pushed against the back of his head, sending waves of heat through his otherwise cold body. Berg thought for a moment about turning her away, but decided against it. He could use the distraction. His body language told her that he was interested. “Want to head over to my place and I can make you feel better?”

Berg did not want to waste his night with Beth. “How about we just go outside?”

Beth didn’t really care to spend the full night with Berg, but she had a fire of her own that the frost demon spawn always seemed to know exactly how to extinguish.

They made their way outside and the woman dropped her dress down, exposing her ample breasts. The frigid night air made her nipples harden. Beth gave Berg the look, promising pleasure and release. Berg approached and kissed her neck. As his skin touched hers, goose bumps sprang up across her flesh. His hands went to her ass, and she whimpered with practiced perfection.

Berg almost failed to hear the muffled cries over Beth’s moaning. Almost. He pushed her away.

“What…” Beth started, but Berg put his finger over her mouth. Then, she heard it as well. As Berg took off toward the sounds, she quickly pulled her dress back over her shoulders.


Larkin and Dani finally entered the Crab Trap to join the celebration. The man wore simple clothes, but Dani felt the need to dress up. She did not want the people of Dorsi to start mumbling that Larkin deserved better. Larkin gave her a smile, his pearly white teeth shining through his beard. She knew that he would never lay with another women; his honor was too strong. However, she wanted to make sure that he never wanted to.

Everyone congratulated him on the great victory. Larkin smiled, and shook hands. Dani knew that he hated the attention, and Larkin squeezed her hand as the words poured over him. Usually Berg would absorb the praise, but the half-demon was nowhere to be found.

Larkin saw Ricci approaching and tried to find a way to avoid the interaction. There were simply too many people around. Larkin felt the man’s hand on his shoulder. He spun and feigned surprise.

“Larkin, I need to have a word with you,” Ricci said without any need for small talk. Then he walked back to the same table where Berg had denied him earlier. Larkin did not immediately follow Ricci. He made his way to each of the soldiers who had been with him that day; giving his thanks to them. By the time Larkin got back to Ricci’s table, the head of the city was fuming.

“Sorry,” Larkin stated, “I had to talk to my men.” Ricci glared. “You remember my wife, Dani?” The woman smiled at Ricci, despite the fact that she hated the man.

Ricci did not even acknowledge Larkin’s wife. “I need to know what happened out there today.”



Larkin put his nose against Ricci’s nose. “I said it. You sit there, all fat and happy, but I remember when we were boys. You were Ricky then, but still a coward. You disrespect my wife, and then ask for information? You are a fool, among your many flaws.”

Ricci pulled away. “You think I can’t get the information from one of your men?”

“I know you can’t.” Larkin answered without hesitation. “If I find out that you have even tried, then I will beat your ass down.”

“A threat?” Ricci tried to sound brave, but his voice cracked and betrayed his bravado. He tried to recover, “I have the law on my side, Larkin.”

“My authority comes from a higher power,” Larkin smiled. “If you challenge me, you will lose.”


Berg quickly located the sounds. It seemed a man was trying to take advantage of a lady. The man was having a rough time of it, however. It was about to get much worse for the man. Berg grabbed the man by his tunic and pulled him off of the woman. The man threw a wild elbow into the frost demon’s chin. The air grew immediately colder. However, Berg did not have to strike the man; for the woman came up and clawed her attacker’s face. Then she grabbed hold of his ear and tried to rip it off.

Beth grabbed the woman, and pulled her away from the man. She started to try to calm her down, which was no easy task. Berg was glad that Beth was with him. As Berg looked at the two women, he realized that it was just a child in Beth’s arms.

“She wanted it,” the man screamed as he tried to shrug Berg off.

“She just tried to rip your ear off,” Berg responded. “I have enjoyed some crazy nights, but it never escalated into missing ears.”

Beth, too, realized that she held a girl not a woman. “This is a child,” she stated with disgust. There was no hiding the repulsion in her voice.

“Out this late? With a dress like that?” the man argued. “How could I know?”

“If you were deceived, which I doubt, it was because you wanted to be fooled.” Berg slapped the man in the face. “Her dress does not fit, loose in all the places a woman would fill. No make-up and no jewelry. My guess is that her mother would notice if the make-up had been used; and she couldn’t risk losing any jewelry. However, the dress; her mother probably outgrew the dress with hopes but no realities of wearing it again someday. A child playing dress up; nothing more.”

“How do you know all that?” the man asked.

“Because I did not want to be fooled.”

“Just kill me,” the man begged. “If my wife finds out…”

Berg slapped the man again. “I hope she kills you. No, I hope she ruins you. I want her to absolutely destroy you; the way you tried to ruin and destroy this girl’s life.” Berg motioned for Beth to take her home. Beth slapped the man as they walked past, and his mouth filled with blood. “Pull your pants up, and let’s go have a talk with Larkin.”

“No, not Larkin!” the man shouted as he pulled his pants up around his waist. Berg slapped him again.