With Urkku bound by winter's cold grasp we had little if no time to waste. Hot flashes of an aged fever strike me, trembling are the words uttered by the lips of mine "Our lady of seven sorrows, Mother of mourning, precious lich..." and before I could continue came a knock at the door. Light rapping and first but quickly escalating into a rushed pounding.Door slowly opened cautiously awaiting what could lurk beyond the shadows of the open air.
"Weem is ALIVE!?"
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