Fall of the Snow Prince Content . [ An account of the Battle of the Moesring as transcribed by Lokheim , chronicler to the chieftain Ingjaldr White - Eye ] From whence he came we did not know , but into the battle he rode , on a brilliant steed of pallid white . Elf we called him , for Elf he was , yet unlike any other of his kind we had ever seen before that day . His spear and armor bore the radiant and terrible glow of unknown magicka , and so adorned this unknown rider seemed more wight than warrior . What troubled , nay , frightened us most at that moment was the call that rose from the Elven ranks . It was not fear , not wonder , but an unabashed and unbridled joy , the kind of felicity felt by a damned man who has been granted a second chance at life . For at that time the Elves were as damned and near death as ever they had been during the great skirmishes of Solstheim . The Battle of the Moesring was to be the final stand between Nord and Elf on our fair island . Led by Ysgramor , we had driven the Elven scourge from Skyrim , and were intent on cleansing Solstheim of their kind as well . Our warriors , armed with the finest axes and swords Nord craftsmen could forge , cut great swaths through the enemy ranks . The slopes of the Moesring ran red with Elf blood . Why , then , would our foe rejoice ? Could one rider bring such hope to an army so hopeless ? To most of our kind , the meaning of the call was clear , but the words were but a litany of Elven chants and cries . There were some among us , however , the scholars and chroniclers , who knew well the words and shuddered at their significance . " The Snow Prince is come ! Doom is at hand ! " There was then a great calm that overcame the Elves that still stood . Through their mass the Snow Prince did ride , and as a longboat slices the icy waters of the Fjalding he parted the ranks of his kin . The magnificent white horse slowed to a gallop , then a trot , and the unknown Elf rider moved to the front of the line at a slow , almost ghostlike pace . A Nord warrior sees much in a life of bloodshed and battle , and is rarely surprised by anything armed combat may bring . But few among us that day could have imagined the awe and uncertainty of a raging battlefield that all at once went motionless and silent . Such is the effect the Snow Prince had on us all . For when the joyous cries of the Elves had ended , there remained a quiet known only in the solitude of slumber . It was then our combined host , Elf and Nord alike , were joined in a terrible understanding — victory or defeat mattered little that day on the slopes of the Moesring Mountains . The one truth we all shared was that death would come to many that day , victor and vanquished alike . The glorious Snow Prince , an Elf unlike any other , did come that day to bring death to our kind . And death he so brought . Like a sudden , violent snow squall that rends travelers blind and threatens to tear loose the very foundations of the sturdiest hall , the Snow Prince did sweep into our numbers . Indeed the ice and snow did begin to swirl and churn about the Elf , as if called upon to serve his bidding . The spinning of that gleaming spear whistled a dirge to all those who would stand in the way of the Snow Prince , and our mightiest fell before him that day . Ulfgi Anvil - Hand , Strom the White , Freida Oaken - Wand , Heimdall the Frenzied . All lay dead at the foot of the Moesring Mountains . For the first time that day it seemed the tide of battle had actually turned . The Elves , spurred on by the deeds of the Snow Prince , rallied together for one last charge against our ranks . It was then , in a single instant , that the Battle of the Moesring came to a sudden and unexpected end . Finna , daughter of Jofrior , a lass of only twelve years and squire to her mother , watched as the Snow Prince cut down her only parent . In her rage and sorrow , Finna picked up Jofrior ' s sword and threw it savagely at her mother ' s killer . When the Elf ' s gleaming spear stopped its deadly dance , the battlefield fell silent , and all eyes turned to the Snow Prince . No one that day was more surprised than the Elf himself at the sight that greeted them all . For upon his great steed the Snow Prince still sat , the sword of Jofrior buried deeply in his breast . And then , he fell , from his horse , from the battle , from life . The Snow Prince lay dead , slain by a child . With their savior defeated , the spirit of the remaining Elven warriors soon shattered . Many fled , and those that remained on the battlefield were soon cut down by our broad Nord axes . When the day was done , all that remained was the carnage of the battlefield . And from that battlefield came a dim reminder of valor and skill , for the brilliant armor and spear of the Snow Prince still shined . Even in death , this mighty and unknown Elf filled us with awe . It is common practice to burn the corpses of our fallen foes . This is as much a necessity as it is custom , for death brings with it disease and dread . Our chieftains wished to cleanse Solstheim of the Elven horde , in death as well as life . It was decided , however , that such was not to be the fate of the Snow Prince . One so mighty in war yet so loved by his kin deserved better . Even in death , even if an enemy of our people . And so we brought the body of the Snow Prince , wrapped in fine silks , to a freshly dug barrow . The gleaming armor and spear were presented on a pedestal of honor , and the tomb was arrayed with treasures worthy of royalty . All of the mighty chieftains agreed with this course , that the Elf should be so honored . His body would be preserved in the barrow for as long as the earth chose , but would not be offered the protection of our Stalhrim , which was reserved for Nord dead alone . So ends this account of the Battle of the Moesring , and the fall of the magnificent Elven Snow Prince . May our gods honor him in death , and may we never meet his kind again in life .