The air was thinning as the piling bodies restricted every ounce of possible airway. His mind slowly faded away along with his vision. Ghwynmyr closed his eyes and murmured an old dwarven funeral prayer to himself. But just as he was about to finish it, he faded out of consciousness.
"Ghwynmyr!" A familiar voice burst out from his faded consciousness. "Ghwynmyr, bhstyrd whkh yp! Fyrwrym ys hr. (Ghwynmyr, you bastard, wake up! The fire dragon is here!)"
Ghwynmyr woke up gasping for air. As he opened his eyes, he saw familiar faces he thought were long dead.
"Thyrhyn? Hvymyr? Dhrhghst? Fyrmhn?" He felt his blood drained from his face. "Wutz goin' on?!" Ghwynmyr shoved Hvymyr away as he crawled away into a corner of the dark tunnel.
"W-wuz ga-in han? Hynfhrtyhnyt mhn, hyt hrd yn nhgyn! (This unfortunate man, hit his head hard!)" Hvymyr said and asked others to understand his predicament.
