Vorim swore under his breath, staring towards the mouth of
the cave. Out there, the enemy waited, the fading light of day illuminating
slanted green eyes peering back at him. Up until recently, Vorim had never been
the prey for such as these: dark elves. They were olive-skinned, but without
the regal poise and stature of the larger ones. These were diminutive and
scrawny in comparison. But their reduced size lent them nimbleness and their
disposition provided a cold determination. Though male, they were almost
pretty, like the little nymphs whose form and grace had so enthralled the
hearts of men. And there was murder in their eyes.
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