A lonesome mountain was looming over a vast mountain chain, cutting the sky with its jagged edges. A radiant moon bathed its slopes in a pale light, and strong winds crashed into its towering dark mass over and over again, screaming in powerless rage.
At the highest point of the mountain, a vast expanse of flat rock was covered with snow. Countless bones were buried under its cold veil, and although there were no footprints marring the pristine white expanse, a lone figure stood in the center of the ancient killing field.
He was a man with dark skin and broad shoulders, his rugged physique seemingly carved from stone. His disheveled black hair was covered in snow, and his beard was brimming with ice.
The man was holding an imposing great bow in his hand, a scattering of siege arrows thrust into the snow around him like a palisade… or like a forest of tombstones rising from graveyard soil.
