The Wortares

The tall creature had on a dark, black robe. The long slender fingers sticking from the sleeves looked like small knifes, sharp as fangs. Inside of the hood, no face could be seen. It was a pool of blackness that looked like it could go on forever. The figure seemed to be gliding, never once touching the ground. Rumor had it that these dreadful shadow’s knife-like fingers could cut, not only through flesh, but through worlds. These creatures meant death.