Eldrithor

The fall of the Elven King had become a sorrowful and cautionary legend among the elves. He was now remembered as a tragic figure, a living embodiment of the ever-present danger of delving too deeply into forbidden magics and enigmatic powers. His legacy served as a grim reminder that even the most noble and wise among their kind could be seduced by the allure of forbidden knowledge and descend into the abyss of darkness.

Yet, despite all that, here he was, in a form that distinguished him from the rest. With a wave of his hand, the tattered and broken body of the elven queen squirmed and cracked, the audible sound of bones breaking echoing throughout the room. It was nauseating and extremely unpleasant to listen to.