Not even a speck of light shone through the seemingly empty tomb, save from a dimly lit torch thats flames grew tired. Dust filled the small enclosed quickly, the debris settling to the floor with a rustle. Urses stood with a cough, he could feel the pain shooting up his leg, he must have sprained it when he landed. The gray haired man could tell that he had a couple broken ribs, the hurt screaming through his body with each breath.
Behind him, the barrow grew restless. Growls, snarls, groans and hisses. The dead were awake, they smelled an intruder and they are not pleased. Shuffles and cracks, rattles and roars. Urses felt it in his chest, darkness swelled in this place as if it was the very air he breathed. He gave a grunt, and pushed deeper into the barrow. After all, he did not walk alone.
Thoughts raced inside his mind, his attention not only on the threats that shambled in the dark but also on the one whom he loved. He knew if the Hairless Milk Drinker found Her, she'd need all the help she could get. His senses sharpened and his hair stood on edge, a cold chill filled the space as he stopped.
It inhaled sharply, looking among the dimly lit hall, the torch still barely burning. They must have raised them before puttin him down here. The grey haired warrior brought himself to his full stature, just as the shambling dead reared its ugly, barely attached head and stared at him with two empty eye sockets. Urses grinned widely and nodded. "It seems you are lost. Fear not little one, I will help you find your way." The remnant trembled his way over to the man, only to find his head pulled from the rest of his body. The man snorted as he hefted the skull, looking around for a possible way out.
Urses stumbled down the way, pushing himself further and further. He dropped to a knee, staring at the large stone door that stood between him and freedom. It stood between him, and the one who claimed him as hers. Air flowed in just slightly, the seal was broken. A smile creased his lips as the grey haired man stood, growling as he pushed himself against the stone, feeling it give way under his weight.
The breeze knocked his matted hair around, gore and matter from the wights covered most of his clothing. He cared not, more pressing matters were at hand. Urses grunted hard and did his best to press on, though he moved no faster than a quick walk. His leg burned and felt like a thousand knives poked at it all at once, twisting and digging deep within the bone. The Bastard thought he had broken the northman, thought him nothing more than a savage. Little did this one know, of the fury of the northmen.
