I felt as if Sigmar had placed me into a sort of exchange. A life of pleasure and fun at the cost of great danger and ever at the expense of breakfast, it seemed. I had not had breakfast in three days from some calamity, and both yesterday and today my planned morning date with Camilla went awry from some danger. Thinking back to the night before, however, I felt it was worth it. Though I would very much try and have a big lunch. 

I grabbed my belongings swiftly and had the chance to put on my travel boots and trousers. However, I only had a small bit of cloth of my robe across my shoulder, but half my side and all of my torso was bare. I scrambled out of the window with Camilla, recalling yet again how we had just met and I'm leaping through a window because of a swift warning from her. Camilla slid out of the window and danced across the shingles of the roof with a grace I couldn't match. Thankfully I was still agile compared to the greybeards of my sect and I followed her well enough, feeling the cool morning air on my chest in concert with the sun's warmth. The streets and curved arches and villas, as well as the towering palace was almost breathtaking in the morning light. Shame I hadn't the time to stop and admire the view. 

I saw Camilla's desperate leap and realized immediately the futility of trying to jump like her. True, my legs were a bit longer, but she was an acrobat and I only kept my physique to attract women. Would that be enough to get me across? 

Well, no time like the present to find out. 

As Camilla began raining tiles down onto hapless soldiers and screaming for me to hurry, I placed my foot on the furthest point of the inn's roof and shoved off. Time seemed to slow for me, and even years down the line, I remember the still image of Camilla dropping the tiles and spinning to take my hand. It's amazing how you can fight every creature and abomination imaginable, from vampires to chaos sorcerers to brutish greenskins, and yet simple heights with the threat of gravity can stick with you. 

I hurtled through the air, but with the desperation of survival and Camilla's quick reflexes, she caught my hand. My left leg hit the edge, pain shooting up my body, stealing the energy from the limb. Luckily, I found out later there wasn't a fracture or break, but it hurt like hell, as did my hand. I had thrown out my bandaged hand for her to catch, clever as ever. 

"We must goo hansome, joost a bitte moore!" She implored me in Reikspeil. I gave her a tired smile to reassure her I was alright, and with her help and my other leg I pulled myself up on the roof. Behind us we heard a shout. I turned and saw a condottieri with his morion helm poke his head out of our window, turning his head the wrong way then swinging back in our direction. I could not see his expression well, but he shook his fist. 

"You will not get away so easily!" He cried, and as if on cue, crossbow quarrels bounced against shingles and scythed past us, one getting close enough to fly right between Camilla and I. 

Camilla dashed away, while I limped after her, but as we moved, blood flowed back into my leg and I could put weight on it again. Mercifully the other buildings were packed closer, and together we made it down three city streets, swiftly losing the soldiers who's shouts faded into the distance. 

Eventually we stopped atop a sandstone roof with an awning and an area to relax and take stock. A small table under a swift, outdoor cupola was sequestered there for shade. Camilla sat down and I caught my breath, smoothing my mane of black hair back, though some fringes stubbornly set back before my face. My torso glistened with a light sweat, and I had to admit the lack of food did wonders for my early morn physique, but even if Camilla was interested we were a bit preoccupied. 

"I say we've overstayed our welcome. Apologies if I'm the cause of that," I said, taking a cloth from my pack and wiping it across my forehead. "I suggest we find what money we can and get the hell out of here. I hear Pavona is lovely this time of year, or perhaps Luccini." 

[i]Fucking hell[/i], I thought as my stomach growled.