"Iseldis!" he cried, gritting his teeth and getting back to a standing position. The shock from being stabbed now overwhelmed by his desire to help his companion. Unfortunately, skeletal fingers snaked out of the coffins beside him, three hands planting themselves on his strong, young frame to keep him grounded. He tried to go to Iseldis' aid, but the literal hands of death kept him there. Growling, he pushed back against them and then pulled himself forward again, breaking free of two of the hands. 

He grabbed his sword, and did his best to hack through the hand that still held his off hand, chopping through it with ease. Unfortunately, the Draugr that had tried to grab him were now pushing the slabs off their coffins slowly, ghastly moans echoing off the stone. It was a wail that chilled his very soul, and almost wildly he attacked them. His need to exterminate them giving him strength as he hewed at any that were clear enough to be cut down. 

But there were far too many, and the more pressing issue was when he heard Iseldis screaming in unbearable pain. The moans of the Draugr had chilled Roland to his core, but hearing Iseldis crying out in such pain... something within him snapped. He felt his heart grow light, and his head began to burn, only for both sensations to give way to a fury he couldn't quite grasp. Everything became lighter and more easy to use, and if he had stopped to get a look at his sword, he would have noticed a faint glow to it. 

But he didn't. With a flick of his wrist, his sword clove through the arm of a Draugr, causing it to drop the axe it had been holding. On instinct, he caught the ancient weapon before it hit the floor, and spun to launch it toward the Dark Elf, the creature too preoccupied with torturing Iseldis to notice the projectile before it embedded itself on her right breast. She staggered back and gave a blood curdling scream in anger and pain, feebly grasping for the axe. 

Roland knew it wouldn't hold her, and he was already moving. Iseldis would feel the pain ebb away, and her body would suddenly feel weightless for a moment as Roland lifted her up protectively in his arms. "You're ok," he whispered to her once he scooped her up. 

The weight would return abruptly, as the world would turn from dark to light to dark as Roland leaped into one of the opened coffins, not understanding himself why he did it. The flimsy stonework beneath them gave way with their weight, and instead of landing in it, they crashed through it. As they fell, Roland remembered why he had leapt it there. The coffin had been open and exposed with its fragile stonework when they had arrived. 

They hit the next hard surface, you guessed it, hard. Rolling down a decline roughly until sailing through the air again to crash through ancient planks of oak and cloth. Ancient construction perhaps. It seemed a lifetime before they landed and stopped fully, but when they did the dust settled, and they could hear nothing of any pursuit. Iseldis would feel none the worse for wear, as the torturing spell had been lifted, and Roland had taken the majority of the hits from the long journey down. He lay below her curled form, on the edge of consciousness, his legs and arms not following his commands currently. 

"Are..." he coughed. "You ok?" he breathed weakly, his world spinning. At least they weren't where they had been, anymore. 
[@Luminosity]