Charging forward, through the snow, came Kinnii ShadowSlayer, a once-great paladin. Armored boots stomped through drifts of white as she made her getaway, arms swinging back and forth, hands clenching into fists at uneven intervals. The raven-haired young female was escaping. Escaping from a holden’s lair, one she had stumbled upon while trying to find shelter from the cold northern night. The holden was a huge beast, bigger than a full-grown grizzly, wearing a cloak made of horse and bear pelts. It had a short, blunt snout from which fangs, that could be likened to small tusks, emerged. Upon the beast’s head were two, sharp ears. One was nicked, the other bore and earring made of silver. The holden’s pelt was an all-around brownish grey, which darkened into black around shining yellow eyes.
Kinnii, as she sped through the snow, noticed that it wasn’t running as fast as a holden should be able to. Either it wanted to fake her out, or had no intention of actually harming her. Hope for the latter rose up in her heart as she gradually slowed down into a walk. The beast slowed with her, and when she stopped, it did, too. She turned on her heel to face the holden, and it stared at her. Taking a breath of the frost-bitten air, trying not to breath too quickly after running so far, she spoke. “Hello,” came her words, in an old elvish tongue, drifting up into the air with the steam. A brief gale sent snowflakes flying before the holden replied. “Who arrre you?” came the growled answer, tusks and snout clearly not helping it speak in the sweet tones of an elf.
Expanding her lungs, taking in another breath and feeling the sting of cold air, she responded, exhaling. “I am Kinnii ShadowSlayer.”
A grunted reply came next, in the common tongue. “Kin of dead. Slayer of shadoows,” after that, the holden continued. “Kinnii, I am Bites like the cold. Vehnhief.”
YOU ARE READING
old kingdom tales
FantasíaShort stories with no plot. all based in a fantasy land called the old kingdom, or the land near to it.
