Urses grew up in a village in Dale with but a single mother, who provided all he needed. She had proved herself as a sheild maiden, and there were few who did not know of her tales. He grew up learning how to fight and defend not only himself, but his village and his mother. 

Urses grew taller and broader with each passing year, though no color ever came to his hair, even at birth his mane was solid grey. Though his mother was born with brown locks as beautiful as a prized horses mane. 

It was not long before Urses reached the age to bear arms and shield at the young age of fourteen. He fought in his first skirmish against the easterlings that threatened their camp and villages, slaughtering anything that drew breath. Though this time, it was the easterlings being hunted, mercilessly. 

Years passed as he grew more, not only in body, but in mind and spirit as well. Favoring a broad shield and a quick blade. Often times carrying a set of javalins, and a light axe. Many times he painted his face to look like a skull, painting his body to seem as if it was but a skeleton. Many asked why he would do such, did he wish to invoke the wrath of death itself? Urses merely smiled and spoke softly. 

"If I seem as if I am death, then they will fear us even more because even death walks in our presence. After all, we do fill his halls with the unworthy."