His body shivered as he knelt upon the cold floor. His eyes searching the blackened ground for the one who reached out and pulled his gaze to his own. The man simple stared at the North-man. His hair matted and filled with bits of ash and dirt. His eyes bloodshot, his lids hadn't found a moments rest. Urses' blue eyes fixed upon the man who stood before him, cringing as his head hung by his hair while listening to the man speak.
"You're not the ones I paid for him, where is Domdrudis?" The man sneered at the company before him holding the Wild man before him in shackles and chains as if he were a beast. The remnants of his tattered clothing clinging to his pale skin and barely covering his body.
"Wha's left of 'em be layin' in the snow back in Fer'o'chal'. This bastard put up a fight, more beast than man from what I be seein'." He chuckled and sent a boot into Urses' ribs which roused a grunt from him.
The man shook his head and looked at Urses, loosing a grin while turning his back to him. "Your father, knelt there once before. Shortly before I removed his head from his shoulders and made his mane into a trophy. You may call me Gheron, or as your people call me, Master Gheron." He spoke with a chuckle.
Urses rattled the chains on his wrists lightly. "So, this is it? Where the line of my father ends? Come then, bastard of a tavern wench. I do not have all day, I am needed elsewhere." He spread his arms and looked to Gheron, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing him angered or saddened.
Gheron's lips peeled back in a grin as he looked upon the North-man. Reaching out and drawing a sword from its leather sheath gently. Staring back into its reflection as he looked back towards Urses. "I had considered having this blade melted down and used as a pick for the miners, after all. Steel that has been tainted by North blood is good for nothing else."
"Because, Northern blood is the only thing that could pierce even the thickest stone, and the hardest of steel. Just as I shall break you." Urses smiled and tilted his head. "You think they would send some one for me? An army? I serve The Lady of Light. I need no army, fool. I'm born of the north, raised to fight and bred for war." The voice seemed to fade as the cold steel met his neck. The North-man looked back to Gheron with an emotionless stare.
The blade rose and fell met the hand of the unfortunate Bree-lander's hand as Urses tugged the chains to his side as the other fought to keep hold but only found a swift blow aimed at the side of his knee before falling to the floor while clinging to his broken knee. Gheron distanced himself, watching as the North-man drew himself to full stature, even lethargic and pale there was still fight in him.
"Stay yourself lest you wish to understand but a glimpse of the darkness North-man!" Gheron shouted, grasping the hilt of the sword firmly as if preparing for a swing. Urses continued to walk towards the Angmarim as the steel sunk into his side.
Urses howled, his arm reaching out to grasp Gheron by the throat and slam him into the stone floor, looking down for but a moment.
"I've seen the darkness, and you should fear the dawn more so. For I march with it." He spoke before slamming a foot down upon Gheron's head with a crack.
"For when we march. The very depths of the earth shall tremble on our path."
