As the two men looked at him with respect, he mustered his remaining strength. He slowly moved his legs, putting one in front of the other and wobbling weakly towards the exit. Each step was a painful reminder that he was alive. And each step brought him closer to freedom. He was a Karstark of Karhold and would not be bested by some measly stay in a prison. Harrion gritted his teeth and persevered. In the dimly lit hallway outside lay two corpses in pools of blood.