A core of scorching lumber, the thing was we were in a Wood Elf clan encampment (Wood Elves on no occasion used fire) but the Fëro Clan did. They disregarded our feelings about nature then the rest of our kind. Burning a tree for us was like butchering someone, it was a corruption the Fëro Clan did not care about belief or our edicts; they are an outsider clan sent to the space in between us and the Déavfth Ilfs. Their leader, Kelevŷen Vostros, was once part of the Sapphire Clan. He was courting me at the time, but we soon found that he was using fire to keep warm during the winter. That was unacceptable and he was exiled here. Fëro accurately means fire in our linguistic we scorn all creatures that try to damage our woodlands. “How do you know about that? Tell me, now!” I glare at him my passion forming from the hot High Elf blood coursing through my veins.
“I’m not telling you,” he smiled.
Squeeze him until he wails, I tell Vasuki. He cries as her piercing talons bind tauter about him. “I am a Dragon Rider, Vasuki my friend and ally. She wishes you to tell us why you have left your plots of exile.”
“The Déavfth Mįĕsst it is slowly creeping further into our land,” his voice was distorted elusively. I affirm at Vasuki and she drops him snarling heatedly at him as he fell.
“Now leave we will go see why the Déavfth Ilfs are infiltrating our boarders,” at this they turn to leave.
*** *** ***
Spans previously Gabriel, we governed the properties of Fereldea. Our boarders traversed the western empires of Alici-haru the humans, and the Orc Empire, to the limitations of the Déavfth Ilfs fatherland. Then the usurper Gabriel our supporter deceived and expatriates us back to our deserts. We then tried to retake our mislaid empire, but our conurbations were scorched and glassed over by the flames of his powers. Pending now we would meander the expanses of our primordial badlands. Now though we have united our clans to retake our lost lands under one banner, mine. I am King Qwuopli(4;, meaning conqueror. We are the Desert Elves our great forest brethren have hidden in their forests to long. “Ready!” I ordered as we stood outside the tree wall that protected the Wood Elves from attack. I raise my arm as I muster my strength for our first attack. “The Wood Elves will fall and beg us for mercy!” My appendage lifts marking at the partition like trees; sand precipitously hurries at the trees. Sand criticizing in contrast to the trees, this would get their consideration. Soon we would take over the Wood Elves and salvage part of are derelict domain. “Present the volleys of combustions,” with my unemployed hand I spurted great overwhelming intensities of firestorms at the trees. “Sing these trees into Oblivion!” I lark.
*** *** ***
In my soul I sagacity a waning pain and I distinguish we are under attack, glum starts to shelter me in a vague misery. This violence was packed with malevolence as I sensed the trees vanishing. Who would attack us? Not the humans this attack was too abnormal, I see other of my kind, Wood Elves, singing on their breastplate of ironwood. This lumber was logically robust but we had smiths that would sing it to the métier of diamond. An extraordinary exploit considering that there was few that powerful. The dragons that had returned had by this time started to pair up with riders. We were now more commanding than those who were criticizing our woods.
Revulsion, and antipathy filled my now resonating core, they would pay. I sing loudly as my armor attaches itself to my physique a large longbow; no human would be able to lift it up even if they tried. Each of our bows were sung from ironwood or baobab trees so condensed they weighed hundreds of pounds. We had a variety of arrows that were used to realize dissimilar trades. Feeble wood would sometimes be sung with durable ironwood designed in minor spines use to kill someone quietly. I jump launching myself onto a tree branch there Lex the Bringer-of-Ashes flew under me I jump landing on his back. It had been so long since I had seen Lex. Let’s get these monsters, I think to him, I loud grumbling roar tells me he agrees.
Dalve’ú, we are almost there get your bow ready, Vex acclaimed which I did I seized my ironwood longbow and directed down at the lands under me. I could tell some kind of elves were confronting, I could not quit reminisce, but they give the impression of being parallel. Shrill jowls with long compacted spikes sticking out. Some remained over their eyes as well. Their ears were keen yet took an abrasive grimy look to them. Vex dips down initiation himself at the Desert Elves who had been exiled from the lands of Fereldea. Why and how were they here? I intone instigating a fat root to discharge up from the earth and impale the torso of a male Desert Elf, he squawks as the root pugnaciously criticizes him into the ground repetitively. Devastating passion flashes over the origin triggering it to redact to the ground.
Impressions of grit chore at my skin, I squeal.
*** *** ***
Gore disgorged forth from my battered appendage. Our subjugators arose out of nowhere nippily dispatching us and shorn of cautioning diffusing chaos over our statuses deprived of a subsequent thought. Limited races unstated us, suing that we are a gore avid race whose only care was for confrontation – which stayed customarily factual – but we had alternative flank to us. Slaying offspring had no integrity for they could not contest back. There was scrupulousness in combat but not slaughter. Compelling homicide on anyone who could not secure themselves was disreputable. One of the spear faced elves that had criticized us ambled over to me hiring his base on my limb pressing tenacious down. “Supplicate Orc!” he bellowed as soreness blast over my arm I negated to concede him. “Beseech me or convert my slave,” the burden on my member upsurges markedly.
I growl in response, “Yo’ ol’ ‘lf ‘ill ne’er enshlave meh.” We Orcs partook a stiff spell erudition added vernaculars because ours was more sophisticated than the other races.
“Orcs so not au fait, you have not changed since we first subjugated you,” He pronounced the lyrics incongruously.
Enthralling my foil I lunge it up, and to his boundless shudder my armament penetrated his torso right in his temperament. “We’ll enshlave yo’ be’ore yo’ be’ts ‘s,” I approximate to the superlative of my facility. I repossess my steel from his corpse as I stab it into the earth and wrench myself to my feet per a whimper of discomposure. My eyes peered around the ruined theater of war; lifeblood and carnage were blown out athwart the undefended vale. My people spread out over the carnage filled field. At this instantaneous phase we had unsoiled up the violent chaos, I saw many of my mates hauling themselves to their feet; blonde plasma discharging into interpretation after gapping lacerations.
This had been a glorious battle, filled with spectacular bloodshed. Much honor was earned this day. I perceived an abysmal expurgate on my thigh my buttery gore emptied from it. My crown felt dainty then… duskiness.
Granular mohair coverings fence my greenish beige skin rasping in paradox of it. My discernments peer through the sluggishly inaugural incisions created for me to see out of. I lift my hand to make sure I have them both.