[center][h3][color=black]I M P O R T A N T[/color][/h3]
[img]http://i.imgur.com/85SmEl6.jpg?1[/img][/center]

	Crouched in a dark corner, hidden away from the light and prying eyes of the creatures within the crypt, and warmed by the leather, weather-worn cloak that he wrapped around himself, he tried his best to sleep. His hand wrapped firmly around the steel hilt of his short sword, its sheathed point pushed against the ground. Where was he? the question still echoed somewhere in the back of his head. He tried to convince himself that it was unimportant, that the life he was living at the moment was imperative. But the question was a ghost if he had ever believed in that sort of nonsense. 

	It nagged and gnawed until he drew his attention to it. Between the hiding and watching for monsters, his attention was very short for anything non-urgent. Even if they were--arguably--of the utmost importance. He took a shivering breath, the shakes grasping him all of a sudden. He had felt it once before but that was in a different part of the crypts, near a specter unlike any creature he'd seen before. A being that brought icy and frigid temperatures along with it.

	Was it the twang of metal that stirred its movement? Now that he thought on it again, that sound was a familiar one. It brought back fresh--albeit very short--memories. They flashed pass his eyes and banged on his brain with throbbing consequence.  

	[i]He held the flag of another for a moment but dropped it upon witnessing blood fly through the air and a blade glimmer along with it. a few feet in front of him. 

	A man, a friend... perhaps, smiled somberly at him before having an arrow pierce his skull...[/i]

	He re-clenched his grip on his sword and simply listened. The next sounds would decided his next moves, for he was not fool enough to head straight into the arms of that foul, cold beast. No, he was not fool enough. The prospect of engaging that monster the first time he entered was deplorable. And now that he had found a place where no creature roamed and he could grab a deserved, if not hunger-pained, sleep, he was reluctant to leave. Over six thousand steps since his awakening--not including rests and piss-stops--had accumulated to that moment. Who would waste such valued time?