*insert from Ralphie* Hello Readers, It’s a great Honor to be able to finally introduce you to in the “flesh” so to speak a long time friend & now as of recent Co-Author of this little blog…. Weaver of Words the Elf Himself!… Dehrynn Shepherd… I hope you have been enjoying his stories thus far because of course there are many more to come. We are having way to much fun bringing you such things to stop really, lol.
Much Thanks & Hugs Dehr!
Dehrynn, as he was known, was handsome, almost pretty, which was the way of the elves. In the modern day, they usually blended in, and you wouldn’t even know they were standing next to you. Such was Dehrynanthalis, an ancient one, said to be an elven archmage. Some stories even told of him being exiled from his homeland, a place “far beyond the borders of our realm” – perhaps in that place on the old maps that said, “Beyond here, there be dragons”, past the edge of the world.
He was being stalked. He knew it. As he leaned non-chalantly against the lamp post, and let his cool blue eyes pierce the veil of fog around him, he watched his stalker flit from wall to wall. The being was slinking through the shadows of the dark night, as the city provided ample coverage for the hunter to keep it shielded from view. Dehr was aware, but continued to remain stationary, seemingly unconcerned, combing his fingers through his lush shoulder-length mane.
The elf grinned, as he sensed the hunter coming closer, the fog swirling around him, the chill air caressing his flesh. He stood in a pool of fog-diffused light, arms crossed over his chest, back pressed against the lamppost, the electric hum buzzing as it would, muted by the dense moisture-filled air.
As the hunter took bold steps towards him, the elven mystic growled low in his throat, his eyes flaring with silver light as the power of his magic gathered and flowed through him. He uttered strange words in a tongue not of the earth, syllables that smote the air with the last utterance, and fueled with his will, poured into the air like a flare of silver white light.
He gripped the air with his fingertips and squeezed, and the fog responded – and it grew thicker by a million times, becoming like concrete and steel wrapped around his hunter.
The figure materialized from what looked like a cloak of shadows, shimmering into view as the luminescent fog seemed to pulse around him like a solid iron clamp. The angry mesmerizing eyes glowed red, and angry fangs betrayed him as a vampic creature, or some other demon, in the body of a lean and athletic young man, handsome, pale as the moon, clad in biker leathers. He had a mass of color streaked dark-blond hair and piercings in abundance. The hunter hissed and snarled, but Dehr just smiled, taking a slow walk around his trapped stalker.
“Now – now, my friend.. no need to be rude, ” the elf said in a jovial tone, as he approached, standing within mere inches of the trapped creature. He leaned in close to the vamp’s face. “You’ve been following me a while, haven’t you? I think it’s time we got to know one another, and perhaps give you a lesson… in manners.”
Outfit: ::GB::Long shirt & Jacket & Roper boot with leather pants (Monsieur Chic)