Tomb of the last elven king

Headstrong and determined, Ezra set off to look for the last missing component without paying any heed to Marlin’s repeated warnings.

As the night darkened, the clouds gradually drifted away, letting the moon bathe the streets in its dim glow. Most of the patrolling guards had retired to the barracks by now, and the few who were still on active duty were starting to yawn.

Since Aranor had not come under any direct attack and the undead hadn’t been spotted on the nearby roads, the guards had become complacent. The prophecy meant little to them, and many even thought it was another lie to keep the people faithful to Ishani.

Ezra stuck to the shadows, carefully avoiding the street lamps and bright windows as he traversed the dimly lit streets with the wind still howling outside.

As Ezra finally reached the old part of town, the last of the patrolling guards disappeared in the distance. Most of them preferred not to go near the merfolk, and the only ones posted to watch over this gate