Ruins of an Elf

[Lance Thunnigan]

There he was, alone on the snowy mountains near Varshikar. There he sat, sword in hand, shield in the other. Though cold as it may be, he didn't move a single inch.
He had finally realised that death was inevitable, it was slowly creeping upon him. Whether it would've been by Stephen's hand, or by another means, he understood now. Ever since he left his native isle, banished by the Queen, he'd wanted to become something.
He took many wrong turns on his way there, and that is what lead up to all of this. Being hated by many, feared by many.. loved by one.

Here he was, still sitting on the cold, snow covered mountain, waiting for his death to come. He was not going be to executed, his head shown off on a pike for everyone to see. Never. He was going to die, alone, as it should've been.

"Hm. You will be happy now Stephen..." He said as he slowly fell over into the snow. The life within him escaping slowly...