Legend calls them the Ruinous Ones: the Dokahlfar and Vartahlfar. They were evil elves and dwarfish minions that controlled an unknown technological magic. Driven to corrupt all things of goodness and light, the evil elves sought power beyond that of tree and root. They warred against their own kin, the high elves, and were defeated, fleeing into the dark, perhaps never to be heard from again.
Honorable and brave knight Qualtan knows little of elves as he sets out on his own quest. His half-orcne friend, Glaive, went missing during a secret assignment from the king, which went awry. Qualtan searches for his lost ally, but in the process he is caught up in the story of the Ruinous Ones and now must uncover the secret of their disappearance—and if they seek to return and claim the power they seek.
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Hugo Valentin Negron
Figures in shadow responded to the sharp command. They darted to and fro, staying close to the darkened corners and shady recesses of the many stalwart buildings that comprised the warehouse district. Their footsteps landed softly on the brick-paved streets, halting at crossings where pendants of lit glass betrayed their presence. The evening was late. A pale moon dangled low, veiled by shifting streams of lazy cotton. The smell of the sea was strong; sleeping ships were moored nearby, jostling on gentle waves. More footsteps. Other night-stalkers appeared, huddling to whisper direction and gauge approach. Although there should have been little worry of passersby at this hour, they were wary, for there were others in the night as cautious as they.
“There. Look there!”
An outline barely discernible in the gloom stood atop a flat roof. It bobbed and soon disappeared.
One of the intruders smiled, flashing small fangs. They were right not to have brought more men, he thought. Sentries had been posted throughout, and had they selected strength of arm vs. tenacity of stealth, their plans would have been easily foiled. The avenues zig-zagged through a labyrinth of crowded storage houses and cluttered lots. Another sentry was detected, again high above the streets.
“I can barely see him,” an intruder said, straining his vision to the sky.
“I can’t see him at all. Are you sure?” said a second intruder.
“He’s there. I can see him. Another reason why I’m here with you lot,” the toothsome intruder said. “Keep low and marry the walls.”
Passing by a train of idle wagons, the intruders came across a wandering guard keeping vigil during his evening shift. He barely nodded, continuing on his way, for he knew the spies on the rooftops were keeping silent watch over the area, and had been observing him. He held back any recognition of the intruders; after all, he had been expecting them."