Far removed from the human stronghold, nestled within the depths of a hauntingly beautiful and hostile land 200 miles away, stood another Citadel. This fortress, however, belonged to the dark elves. Constructed with blackened iron, sharp steel, and jagged obsidian stones, it was a sight to behold.
The Citadel's enormous steel gates, battle-scarred and imbued with ancient magic, creaked open as a band of dark elves, painted in victorious expressions, marched in. Their obsidian armor glistened under the dim light, splattered with the blood of their fallen enemies. The excitement of a victorious battle was etched into their every move, the thrill of victory humming in the air around them.
Just a little POV of the dark elves and their culture, hope you enjoy it, more chapters coming soon.