Human elf best fantasy short stories
Fresh details and continuation fantasy stories.
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Arrancar would stomp on Herod’s intact shoulder, wrenching his claymore out of the human. The scarlet champion would simply murmur ‘It is done…’ and expire, leaving the blood drenched warrior victorious.
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Arrancar closed the book, running his hands across the leather-bound face. He sighed, placing it on his shelf, slightly regretting what he had done. Slightly. He grabbed his cloak, refastening it to his armor and heading down the stairs, back to commanding his daemonic legion.
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A cloaked figure darted about, through the Canals. It was the middle of the night in Stormwind, somewhere around 3 A.M., if not later. A hushed silence had fallen over the bustling city, as all its denizens seemed to sleep.
Sans the cloak figure. It darted about, avoiding the Guard patrols and the ever-vigilante officers that patrolled about, ready to quell any insurgents.
Ducking into a doorway, the figure avoided two guards, waiting for them to pass with hushed breath.
As they walked away, the figure darted forward, towards the looming Stormwind Cathedral. Sprinting across the couryard, leaping over the fountain, and darting up the cathedral steps, the figure had finally found its bastion.
It stepped into the cathedral, removing it’s cloak in the process. The overly-pious still sat, zealous in their prayers, kneeling in front of the shrine.
The figure was lithe, wearing tight-fitting leather garments, adorned with the slightest bits of chain-mail. This suited the figure’s frame rather nicely, actually.
Long, elegant legs ending in hooves, those being carefully polished to such a sheen that it hurt to look at them.
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