Some early fantasy short stories
Tales were often spoken about Silver Wood, but no one dared venture there for they were a haunted, evil place.
Arrix could make out tiny black threads stitched into the eyelids, forcing them shut.
Together we are legends, and legends never die as long as they are remembered in story and song.
When Kings Hunter gives you that half smile gaze, you know that he has marked you for death. Not many men scare me, but Kings Hunter is a hard son of a bitch.
The Darkling had woken Lon with clawed hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing the life from him as it sat upon his chest with a sharp grin of a hundred daggers.
"There are no true heroes in life, no epic battles and certainly no one worthy of legend.”
As he cradled her in his arms, a crow landed on top of the stone, pecking at it. It spread its wings and squawked, watching the two lovers.
Her training had been hard, learning from the greatest warriors, forcing her body to go beyond exhaustion and focusing on a solitary life to prepare for this day.
A mercenary, he travelled the land, a sword for hire. Whoever paid enough gold would find a living legend fighting in their army, pushing the men to victory by just his very presence.