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Morr did not bless Lucian with death. The Black Knight knew this the moment he was settled under a layer of dirt and wooden planks that settled on top of him. He lifted himself out of the filth and looked to see that he did not have any light. The air was stuffed with debris but Lucian found that he could still breath through the cloth that Adok had insisted he wear on this expedition.
As he felt those planks Lucian had taken a piece of wood and flicked it. It was a rough guess but the Knight guessed that the wood was about two feet in length. He could make a torch out of this but he needed something to strike the wood and perhaps some cloth to set the fire upon.
The later was the easiest as his eyes adjusted to see the numerous dulling red eyes around him. Each of these were dead Skaven laid out around them and Lucian remembered that many of them had cloth on their backs in mockery of mankind who lives above their heads. He reached to the nearest one and felt its body, quickly ripping off the cloth as his hands brushed against the material likely stolen from a peasant.
“By the gods!” Lucian turned in the direction of the cry, his feet already carrying him towards the voice of Adolf Wigmar, “Whose there? Are you Lucian?”
The Knight crept forward, not knowing what he should make of the situation. It was not hard to hide who he was as his metal armor clanked with a characteristic cling thanks to the workmanship of Adok.
“Damn I am.” The fellow said as the sounds of boots hit the ground, “Why did you follow me? I was able to handle myself and I would have had a better shot if not for you!”
>Because I wanted to save you
>I don’t want you out of my sight
>End him, in silence
