The night is calm and cool around him as he sits atop the tower, picking absently at the worn bandages around his weathered hands. From his perch he can see to the horizon and back, a view spanning across his city, his farms, his life. It had been years since he had found this place, a young boy in an endless land and since then he had built himself little short of an empire.
A noise from the ground causes him to stir slightly, shifting in his seat to peer over the edge of his fortified stone walls. A gentle sound of clattering bones, almost lyrical as that of woodchimes in the breeze, mixed crudley with the harsh pang of a bow seeking a victim. The man frowns and leans back in his seat, mentally noting to check the area for any sign of a breech or cavern come morning. The darkness is crushing him now, eyes drooping with the promise of sleep. The city is safe, the tower secure and with a gentle yawn he heads toward the stairwell and the warm acceptance of home.