Hello, my username is -ChausVeritas-, you can find my profile here, and my previous account here. This is a series of short stories that I am writing. They are labeled as chapters.

UPDATE:
They are no longer short stories, and I am now writing a full sized novel called the Legend of the Graffkilagush. The first two chapters, displayed here, have been edited, but may serve as an insight into what my writing style is like.

Chapter 1 - Don't Dig Straight Down
Once upon a time, there was a Dwarven Emperor named Hrossor Goldenfist. He was the ruler of all the Dwarves in the world, and he lived in the great Dwarven capital of Aronnar, a fortress city carved into a cliff face. At the time, the Dwarves were the greatest of the world's powers, greater even than the Hawkfathers of the Steel Peaks, or the Elven carpenters, who lived in the forest of Baerinn. They were even greater than the Druids of the Old Pantheon. Unfortunately they weren't as wise. Their hunger for gold and riches was their downfall. They dug ever deeper, in hopes of finding more and more beautiful gems and minerals. Instead, they found the Graffkilagush. No one really knows what they are, or how long they had been lurking beneath the ground. No one has seen them and lived. No one knows what they look like. They are a complete mystery.
Eventually, of course, the Dwarves mined their way into the Graffkilagush's cave system. From that point on, the Dwarves were pretty well doomed. Miners began to go missing, more and more disappearances began cropping up, more and more sightings of strange creatures, only half seen, cloaked in shadow. No one quite knew exactly what they looked like. The emperor refused to block up the entrance to the cave where they found the Graffkilagush, for there were gems beyond any of his wildest dreams down there. The Dwarves stopped all trade between the other cities and empires. For two weeks, the whole world was at a standstill. Then, suddenly, the Dwarves began trading again. The disappearances has stopped. There were no more sightings. Everyone rejoiced… Until, one day, a messenger from the Hawkfathers arrived at the Dwarven Capital, with a trade request only to find a ruin, and no survivors.
The Hawkfathers began to piece together what must have happened. It seemed that the disappearance of the Graffkilagush had been a trick, and after a while, some of the Dwarves began to change… Into Graffkilagush. Back into Graffkilagush. The creatures were shape changers, and now they swarmed through the fortress, killing all the Dwarves in their path. The great fortress was impenetrable to attack from the outside, but this story shows the Dwarves' greatest weakness. Their love for mining. And that was their downfall, for despite the almost indestructible walls of the Dwarven capital, this attack came from the inside.
The Dwarves own walls were in the way of their escape route, completely blocking their path, and as a result, none survived.
But the worst was yet to come, the Graffkilagush were no longer there. The Hawkfathers searched the cave system, but they weren't there either. They had escaped into the world, and now, no one was safe… So Don't Dig Straight Down. You might find the Graffkilagush, or something just as bad. No one knew what else was down there. But it certainly wasn't the end…

Chapter 2 - Persuit
It is two weeks after the demise of the great Dwarven empire, and Captain Harril of the Hawkfathers is in command of the guard set outside the ruins of Aronnar.
“Sir?” said one of the guards, entering Harril's tent.
“If you're here with another stupid idea about how to find the Graffkilagush,” said Captain Harril, “You can just get lost. ‘Oooh, I know sir, why don’t we get the Druids of the Old Pantheon to scry it for us, ooh that would work, wouldn't it sir?'” he mimicked, “Or are you here to tell me that there's been another raid by the order of the Dark Snake?”
“No, sir” said the guard, “No, neither. There's a Dwarf outside.”
“What? Which city? I though they were all destroyed!”
“Dormenheim, sir.”
“Right,” said Harril, “Show him in. Quickly. Last guard I got to show someone in took about ten minutes.”
“Yes, sir. Very good, sir.” the guard said.
The guard opened the tent door, and said something to someone outside. A second later, an old Dwarf entered the tent, his beard and clothes torn, his armour dented, and his skin cut and bleeding.
“What happened to you?” cried Harril, “Were you attacked? Is it the Graffkilagush?”
“Gone,” moaned the Dwarf, “Gone, all gone. Ruins. All dead.”
“Who's dead?” asked Harril, “What's ruins? What's your name?”
“Rursumir Ashbrand,” said the Dwarf, “But it doesn't matter. Dormenheim is in ruins. The whole city's gone. Everyone's dead. I'm the only one left, do you hear me? The only one!”
“Calm down,” said Harril, glancing at the guard, “Start from the beginning, what happened?”
“It was just a normal day. King Barimric Brightchin had just returned from a trip down to the mines - I think they'd just found an especially large diamond or something - but… He was on his throne for, I don't know, three minutes or something… And, he suddenly… Turned into a Graffkilagush. Just right there. Then around him, all his bodyguard began changing too, and the miners swarmed up, changing as they ran. They killed everyone, even the children. I just ran. Everyone was being cut down around me - the claws on those things are, beyond anything I've ever seen before, but… I just managed to escape. I was the first to the walls, which was why I managed to get up the stairs and out in time, but, everyone else was too late. The Graffkilagush didn't seem to care about me getting away, they stopped chasing me, and turned round and stood there, right in front of the walls… Blocking everyone else's escape. I'm the only one left.
”How?“ Harril was practically speechless.
”Are you being followed?“ asked the guard, coming to his rescue. The Dwarf just stared at him.
”I don't know, it's possible.“
”Okay,“ said Harril, pulling himself together, ”We'll have to send scouts in the direction of Dormenheim, to find out. If you are, half of us flee, back to the Steel Peaks, and the other half stay here to stop the Graffkilagush's advance. You, guard, sorry - What's your name?“
”Spiras, sir,“ replied the Guard.
”Spiras. Organise a team of scouts, make Glaer the leader, once they've left, get back here.“
”Yes, sir!“ said Spiras.
Sorry. Yes, I know, I'm interrupting the story. Yes, well, I just wanted to tell you that the next bit has skipped to when the scout team get back.
”Sir!“ shouted Spiras.
”Yes?“ asked Harril, leaving his tent.
”Scouts are back, sir!“ replied Spiras, snapping to attention.
”Thank you, Spiras,“ said Harril, he walked over to a tall elf, standing near the horses, ”Report, Glaer.“
”Sir,“ said Glaer, ”There are no Graffkilagush pursuing us.“
”Yes, there are.“ said Rursumir, coming up, ”I told them to circle round, and come here via the forest. They should be here any minute. You see, I knew the * Hawkfathers would send scouts along the road at some point, so what I did, was to tell my soldiers to avoid the main road, and circle round behind this camp,“ he smiled.
”But, you're a Dwarf. You wouldn't help the Graffkilagush,“ said Harril.
Rursumir smiled again, ”I'm sorry,“ he said, ”I seem to be guilty of a little, how to put it, dishonesty. I am not actually Rursumir Ashbrand, I am really-“ here he spoke a strange word, that no one could really remember afterwards, ”-the mighty, High King and Lord of the Graffkilagush.“ He began to grow, getting taller, and more muscular, he grew tusks, and his fingernails shot out, into claws, sharper and less fragile than any sword, ”NOW DO YOU UNDERSTAND?“ he said. Even his voice had changed, it was now even more deep and resonating than his original Dwarven voice.
”I think I do… Wait. If you're the king, then you're an idiot. You just walked straight into my camp. I know have just about the best hostage I could.“ said Harril.
”Oh really?“ laughed the King, ”I don't think so.“
”I always understood“ someone behind Harril said.
He whirled round. Standing behind him was one of the Elder Hawkfathers, Magister Xhan.
”I've known he wasn't a Dwarf since before the destruction of Dormenheim,“ Xhan continued, ”But I could never prove it. Thankfully my enemy, Ahatrahn, founder of the order of the Dark Snake - you know, the group of Shadow Priests that have been terrorising the land for over ten years - ah, provided me with some proof, accidentally of course, but I took it to the rest of the counsel, and I now have a warrant for the arrest of the so-called, Rursumir Ashbrand. I didn't actually know he was a Graffkilagush before, but I knew he wasn't a Dwarf.“
”WHO PROVIDED YOU WITH PROOF?“ demanded the King of the Graffkilagush.
”Oh, no one important,“ said Xhan, ”Just my arch-nemesis Ahatrahn.“
”OH. HIM,“ the great beast laughed, ”HE'S ACTUALLY HERE RIGHT NOW!“ he bellowed.
”Oh, yes. So I am,“ said Spiras, throwing back his hood, ”So sorry Harril. It was necessary. But, yes. I am Ahatrahn, commander and founder of the Order of the Dark Snake. And a Disciple of Shadows.“
”Glaer, Xhan. Go. Now,“ said Harril.
”Commander Harril,“ said Xhan, ”I cannot just walk away. This is an opportunity to-“
”Opportunity my socks!“ snapped Harril, ”Go. Back to the Steel Peaks. Stay here, 90% you'll die. Go, you'll almost certainly survive. What use are either of you to the Hawkfathers dead? Or any of the kingdoms of this world? Answer me that!“
”You're right,“ said Xhan, ”Come on, what was it? Glaer? Yes, come on. We need to go.“
”No,“ said Glaer, ”Harril, you're no use dead either!“
”No, but I'm of more use here, than running away. I can delay them while you two escape, and both of you are worth at least ten of me each! Now go!“
”Come on Glaer,“ said Xhan, ”Harril's right. You know that, we need to go. Now!“
Glaer nodded, and the two turned, and ran into the forest, leaving Harril and his soldiers to fight the Graffkilagush.
About thirty minutes later, the King of the Graffkilagush was standing, with his troops assembled around him, glaring down at Harril's body, ”WELL,“ he growled, ”NEXT STOP, STEEL PEAK MOUNTAINS."

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Thank you, I've decided to stop updating this on Scratch, to try and write it into an actual book.