I'm always quite jealous of artists, and not only for their talent. If you can draw a decent picture you can tell a story with that single scene while writers have to write the whole bloody story, which might not get finished since we pass out drunk halfway through. And you've got a whole story up there; bloody battle in a snowy clearing, most his army killed, him mortally wounded, and most likely about to die as well.
"We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are; One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield." Ulysses BY ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON