[IC] Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic had picked up a crossbow from a fallen man, having just aimed and fired into the eye of a minotaur as Camilla approached. With a quickness and casual air that only a strong man could do, he pulled the string back with one arm and knocked a bolt onto the crossbow, before firing once more into the throng. He had just dropped his crossbow and unsheathed his Ulrican sword when Camilla had made it to him.

He spun when he heard his name, and wondered why she was here. Not that he wasn't glad to fight alongside her, but he was certain Gilderoy would have seen to it she would be in the Keep. It took him a moment to register what she was saying, his gaze shifting to the younger knight, the only one in full plate.

"The Cellar!?" he cried back incredulously, over the ensuing roar of battle. He didn't know what to think about that. Why in Ulric and Sigmar's name would he be there? Cyrdic raised his shield to block incoming fire, and he ran over to Camilla. When he made it to her, it was plain he was troubled troubled. "We need his Knights." The Ostlander said simply. "I can hold here but not for very long..." he continued, looking into her eyes. "Go. Go and get him. Him or his men, but we'll need them. Do you understand?" He waited for her to tell him she did, and he nodded.

With that, he waded back into combat, one successful siege ladder now spilling over with Beastmen that were just now rising over and engaging Imperial swordsmen. Cyrdic charged from their backs and ran two through, before ducking a huge axe and beheading the Gor that had swung it, only for a primitive arrow to hit Cyrdic in the shoulder. He grunted, and felt the arrowhead sink into his flesh.

Perhaps it was the fact he had spun from the projectile, or perhaps it was a warning from his sword. But he felt the boulder more than he saw it, and on instinct pushed a swordsmen away as he dived backwards. A Minotaur-thrown boulder slammed into the battlements, sending Cyrdic whipping onto the stone hard, shards of cracked rock falling about him and flaking in his hair. He gritted his teeth and wheezed, but got up.

"Go!" He cried to Camilla, desperately, before staggering to his feet and ordering Crossbowmen to take down that Minotaur as the Handgunners focused on the plate armored Champions. With that, he just managed to block a spear thrust from an Ungor, chopping the weapon in two and pommeling the Beastman in the face.

---

Gilderoy had stripped off his vest and donned one of the robes of his sacred brotherhood, blood red with copper hemlines, his fellow knights similarly clad. The room was dark and unlit, save for the candles that lined the arcane symbol upon the ground, drawn with the blood of a virgin. A necessary sacrifice in the grand scheme of things. She had been a common tavern girl, nothing more.

Garmmen stood upon the dias, opposite the leader of the Templars who was vigilantly planted at the head of the circle. The scribe awaited Gilderoy to finish his prayer to Sigmar, before he opened the book of Aborash. His plump fingers gripped the human-skin cover, the ancient book brimming with unbridled power.

"Tabda altuqus," Garmmen began in ancient Khemri, his voice halting and starting with subtle clicks of the tongue, "fi fajar hdha alyawm aljadidi..."

The ritual would last sometime, but they had faith it would be completed. The three Dragon eggs at the center of the blood pattern were still, but eternal life flowed through them. Gilderoy could feel it.
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla cast a forlorn glance at Cydric and then half ran, half scuttled across the battlement and back into the tower. Behind her the masonry shrieked as another blast of the infernal siege engine the attackers were using hammered home, pounding at the ancient fortification like a vast hammer. Dust filtered down over her in a fine mist and she took the stairs three at a time lest a lucky strike bring the whole tower down atop her.

The door was as she had left it so she balled up a fist and pounded on it for a few seconds. No response.

“Sir Gilderoy!” she yelled at the unyielding panel and received no response. Snarling in frustration she drew her dagger and slipped it between the door and the jam. Tonguing her teeth in concentration, she slid the blade upwards until she found the bar and then leaned her weight against the door, pushing it back slightly on its hinges to relieve the pressure. Slowly she lifted the bar until she felt it come free and then jerked the door open. The heavy oaken bar which had held it closed fell to the floor with a dull thunk. Beyond the door was a staircase leading down. Torches hung in sconces providing illumination.

With little time to waste she hurried down the stairway, it curved into a slow spiral taking her deeper than she imagined. As she headed down she heard what sounded like rhythmic chanting and slowed her pace uncertain of what to expect. At last she emerged into a large chamber. The knights stood in two lines with the scribe, reading from some dragon emblazoned book, acting as a cap and making the formation into a U. Not a scribe, she realised, taking in his regalia, a priest. All were dressed in the archaic form of livery she had seen before. In the center of the group stood three egg like objects, dark and glistening. They were eggs she realised with a start, dragon eggs.

Although the priest clearly saw her he didn’t falter in his chanting. The other knights turned in her direction though, their faces grim.

“Sir Gilderoy the castle is being overun,” she gasped before taking a step back from the sudden aura of menace the men projected. One of the knights towards the end turned to her.

“She has seen too much, take her,” he commanded in a business like tone, the three knights on the end of the lines turned towards her reaching for their swords. Gilderoy didn’t so much as turn, his arms were extended over the eggs while he muttered some benediction. The knights stepped towards her and she whipped the pistol from her belt and leveled it at the eggs. The three men froze, at an impasse, the priest kept chanting but his eyes blazed with sudden fury. Camilla took a step back, unsure of what was going on but sure she didn’t like it.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Gilderoy's eyes blazed with an anger Camilla had not seen before, but almost as quickly as it had come, it was gone. "Marchioness...my lady Camilla..."

The men were still, fear and wariness written on their faces. Their fingers twitched and their legs bent slightly, as if they were threatening to jump Camilla despite the risk to their apparent plan. Gilderoy bade them stay where they were, and instead it was he who strode forward two steps, gesturing with his hands as if to take Camilla's firearm and free hand in his own. He looked as if he was cautiously approaching a mare he meant to break.

"Can you not see?" he asked, fervently. Garmmen had stopped reciting, gazing at Camilla with open hatred. Gilderoy took another step toward her. "Chaos will overrun the world, girl. You have not seen it like I have. What you've seen the past day has been but a taste..." He ended the sentence with a seething sound. "Kislev, the Empire, even Tilea...all will fall. Unless we take drastic measures. There is power in Dragon's blood, don't you see? Only I can save the castle! The World!"

He seemed ready to run at her himself.

---

Cyrdic's armor took the brunt of the Axe blow, but even his half-too late dodge and his armor didn't save him from a cracked rib. He growled and lashed out on instinct, chopping through the Ungor's head, hacking off the top half and leaving its lower jaw and tongue lolling out. It toppled to the ground, and Cyrdic coughed. He could hear steel on steel and handgun fire, along with the whistles of arrows and the click of crossbow bolts. But it was the next belch of flame that spelled doom for him.

It struck the weakened structure of the wall, and cracked the surface of the structure, crumbling its foundations. There was an ominous rumble as the wall caved in, the din of battle halting for a moment as both sides realized the tide having just turned. The Beastmen or Chaos warriors couldn't use the opening just yet, for over a thousand pound of crumbled stone lay in their path. But it had been broken. Roars of victory filled the Chaos ranks, and even now Cyrdic could see the larger Bestigors marching forward to begin clearing the path through the rubble.

"To the Great Hall!" Cyrdic cried, stabbing into a Gor and roaring again at the top of his lungs. The men that remained, which was about eighty good soldiers if he had to guess, struck the few Beastmen on the walls and hustled to follow the Ostlander. Stepping over the dead young Knight, Cyrdic leaped down the back stairs and into the square, his sword in the air as he ordered defensive formations to be had.

"You! You, and you! You ten! Stand here at the doorway to the keep. The rest of you, into the keep now. No reason to fight them in the open," He counciled. Handgunners rallied to the door and stood in classic volley fire fashion, reloading their rifles as swiftly as they could while the larger Beastmen and Chaos warriors dug through the broken section of the wall.

As bloodied longbowmen and armsmen with dented breastplates made it into the great hall, Cyrdic stood by the handgunners at the hall gate. He had no idea of the situation Camilla was in not a room away through the Great hall. All he could see was the Khornate Berserker that, with a ferocity beyond comprehension, cut through the last stones with a single swing of his Axe.

"Aim." Cyrdic said, hatred making his voice deathly calm, and the riflemen did so. Ten rifles aimed at the small opening. There was no missing their targets. The Chaos Champion pointed his axe at the riflemen, and Beastmen streamed out from behind him.

"Fire!" Cyrdic cried, and the crack of the rifles filled the square in an echo as bullets punctured armor and pierced skulls and Beastmen chests, killing seven of the monsters and felling the Khorne follower to his knees. The riflemen retreated into the main hall, Cyrdic following and pushing the huge gates closed with one of the larger Halberdiers.

As the horde filtered into the square, they cried out in anger and rage as they charged the gate, only for the reinforced timber gate to swing closed before their eyes. As soon as Cyrdic shut the lock in place, he felt the tremors of fists and weapons on the gate. It was a stout door, but even two feet of wood with some iron fitting, it would be broken shortly. He realized that unless they had a better plan...they would all die here. There were just too many Beastmen and Chaos warriors. Even in an enclosed space that favored them, his men were tired and outnumbers at least 3 to 1, if not more.

Swordsmen carried the dining tables up to the gate to brace it, setting them on their sides.
@Penny

[Penny]

He was insane. Camilla realized it as he spoke, the other three knights stepped forward, apparently secure in the knowledge that she could only shoot one of them. Their bodies formed an imperfect screen for the egg and the priest seemed to relax, continuing his chant. Camilla backed another step, her ankle tapped the stairwell but she was ready for it and hoped up a step.

"I see that now," she lied easily, continuing to retreat up the stairs. Whatever the Sigmarite's were doing it wasn't something helathy or wholesome, she could feel energy gathering around the eggs and it had a dark tinge to it. She needed to find Cydric and get out of this place, although how she was going to persuade him to abandon the men she had no idea.

"I'll leave you to..." one of the knights lunged at her and she fired reflexively. The shot went wide and suddenly all of them were grabbing for her. Camilla hurled the pistol into Gilderoy's face with a satisfying crunch and then turned and bolted up the stairs as fast as her legs would carry her. The knights were in hot pursuit and while they might be stronger then weren't quicker than the lean bodied courtesan. She vaulted up the stairs three at a time reaching the top she grabbed the heavy oaken bar and hurled it down the stairs. It disappeared around the curve of the stairwell and woke a blistering curse as it struck one of her pursuers. Darting through the door she ran for the tower stairs and up onto the parapet.

Camilla's heart began to slow as she stepped from the doorway, expecting to find Cydric and his men. Instead there were beastmen swarming up the improvised ladders and onto an undefended wall. Randald's balls they had already fallen back to the inner hall. One of the beastmen a deer-headed thing with arms a blacksmith would be proud of let out a wrasping bray and rushed for her. Camilla barely got her rapier out in time to sweep the things rusted sword aside in a clumsy parry, hopping back into the doorway of the tower as a horde of beastmen followed the deer things example. It thrust its sword at her and she rolled her wrists flicking the dirty blade up and to the right before following up with a quick jab into the things stomach. It realed back in pain and she skipped onto the acending steps. The beastmen crowded the tower, braying their bloodlust. The cries turned to pain as Gilderoy and his somewhat battered companions rushed up at them from below swords in hand. They had clearly intended to capture her but they reacted to the sudden appearance of beastmen with the instinctive violence of trained soldiers, slicing and cleaving into the densely packed enemy.

Camilla made several quick thrusts into the mass of confused and frightened beastmen, the stink of their blood and urine filling the tight confines and then she fled up the stairs towards the top of the tower, her opponents too concerned with the knights to give chase. Breaking into the sunlight Camilla looked out over the wide expanse of the battlefield. A dark mass of beastmen was streaming across the field and into the breach. Here and there the sun glinted on the fell armor of the northern warriors as they drove their servants onwards to slaughter. Alone and cut of Camilla looked around the top of the tower. Several dead handgunners lay strewn about, cut down by flying shards of rock when one of the cannon blasts had shattered tile roof like a bomb. Dark blood pooled beneath them, staining their uniforms and already beginning to attract. Leaning down she picked up one of their weapons, she recognized it as a rifle from the stories Cydric had told her of his time fighting Norscans, its barrel longer than a conventional handgun. Camilla was familiar with the theory of the firearm so she scooped it up and moved to the parapet, aiming down into the mass of enemies at one of the chaos warriors in a great brass helm that seemed to be comprised of either screaming faces or writhing female figures depending on how the light caught it. Carefully she aligned the sights and squeezed the trigger. *Click*. She cursed and pulled the weapon down, snapping open the priming pan she discovered that the previous wielder had forgotten to prime it or had been killed before he had a chance. Pulling open one of her own cartridges she dropped a pinch of powder into the pan, closed the frisson and bought the weapon back to her shoulder, once again aligning the three sight posts on the chaos warrior. *BOOM* The big weapon slammed into her shoulder, spinning her a quarter turn and almost dislocating her shoulder. Consequently she didn't see if she hit her target or not, rather a bitter disappointment after all that effort.

Cursing she slung the weapon over her other shoulder and looked around for a way out. The top of the tower presented few options and she could already hear the beastmen clambering up the stairs beneath her, the knights either having been killed or, more likely, fallen back down the stairs. The roof of the great hall was about 20 feet away, too far to jump, but the Sigmarite banner still snapped and popped from its flag staff.

"Myrmida protect fools, whores and orphans," she breathed. The first of the beastmen were spilling out onto the rooftop now. Yelling in terror she sprinted across the roof and made a flying leap across the nothingness. There was a sickening sensation of falling and then she hit the banner, its worn silk surprisingly rough against her skin. Desperately she grabbed a handful of silk and the force of being jerked to a stop nearly dislocated her other arm. Her momentum carried her around the flagstaff and she let go of the banner, falling ten painful feet to the slate tiles of the main hall. She scrabbled desperately against the slick tiles as she began to slide down towards a lethal drop into the courtyard but her hand caught in one of the holes made by debris from the bombardment. Clinging tightly to the roof tiles she gasped for breath as beastmen shook their fists at her and howled from her blood from the top of the recently vacated tower.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic had gotten some of the men to distribute water and small amounts of foodstuffs from the kitchen. A few men went to the privvy, comically. But they were all trapped in here, and as the doors were continually battered, they all gathered in the main hall to set their defenses. There were two Captains, and two Sergeants older than Cyrdic, but he had led the defense of the wall well enough. They looked to him to oversee their formation in the hall.

Men hustled in smaller desks for the longbowmen, crossbowmen, and handgunners to stand upon for a better view of the enemy when they broke through. He set up the Halberdiers up front, gleaming and armor piercing weapons at the ready as the door continued to buckle under the blows of something massive from beyond the wall. Swordsmen and Axemen were behind them, ready to hack through any gaps that might be made in the line once the Chaos horde swept in.

Cyrdic stood with them, his Ulrican sword howling with rage, his Norscan shield held aloft. He could see the door's wood cracking in various spots. He breathed in, and as a hush fell over the crowd of soldiers ready to face the coming onslaught, they all looked up when they heard a small bang. Not from before them, but from above.

Cyrdic looked up, and wasn't sure what it was that could be up there. For some reason, he had a sinking feeling that could be-

No, can't be her. She'd be in the cellar.
Or she had gone there. But where was she now? That had sounded like a gunshot, and his sword didn't howl or growl at whatever or whoever was on the roof, so it couldn't have been a chaos spawn. He suddenly grew very worried at her absence, but it wasn't something he could focus on at the moment. They were all about to die, after all. Unless they performed a feat of arms Magnus the Pious would be proud of.

Suddenly the doors burst open, a Minotaur wielding a club the size of a small tree having broken through. "Fire!" Cyrdic cried, bullets and crossbow bolts striking the huge thing, ripping its skin and tearing into its skull. It swayed, and then fell. That had been a mistake, however. They had expanded all of their ranged shots on one Beastmen.

The longbowmen from Talabecland had been a bit more cautious thankfully, but Cyrdic didn't think fifteen arrows could do much. They loosed into the horde that charged in, sinking into flesh, and some even penetrating armor, before the Beasts and Champions crashed into the spiked wall of Halberds.

---

Reigynferlgar the Crimson had seen the belching flame from afar. It was not the flames of another Dragon, she knew. It was something that angered her. Something wielded by man or chaos, it didn't matter. She had not seen any sign of her children past the day the horsemen had been seen in the distance. The ones she had lost in the forest. With a roar of rage, she swung her body in a side arc as her wings enveloped air, and the Dragon swiftly closed on the battle.

---

Velabrass regarded the wreck of the wall and the broken gate. It was almost over, he knew. Now if only the Beasts and Kron would kill that Ostlander he had seen on the walls. The same Ostlander that had escaped with the vial of what he searched for. It vexed Velabrass that he lived. That sword called for his life, and he wouldn't only face him under extreme circumstance. He knew he was the better warrior, but there was an inkling of fate about the man that Tzeentch warned him about. As he had with the other one...

The one now on the roof. Velabrass was not sure of what to make of that, but Gildenhoof wriggled with glee at the sight of his prize. The Tzeentch Champion did not know how Gildenhoof intended to get the woman, but Velabrass had to tell him once more, with a finality. "The vial, and then your play."

Gildenhoof couldn't help but view Camilla as bait hanging by a string, rather than hanging for her life atop the Great Hall. He sprinted forward, trying to search for a way to reach the woman so he could taste her. It was to his dismay when he saw her close to a towerhead door up the sloping roof. He began to climb the battlements with supernatural speed, hoping to reach her in time.
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla pulled herself up, hand over hand towards the window. Her shoulders, already abused, howled in protest with each tile she pulled herself up. Despite the pain it was easy to keep focus, given the alternative was to fall forty feet onto hard cobblestones and into the middle of a pack of frothing beastmen besides. The slate was hard against her fingers and hot besides from the sun but she made steady progress, one of the smaller beastmen attempted to duplicate her leap but missed the flag and plunged flailing into the courtyard, a graphic demonstartion of the risk she had run. Thank Ranald that the beasts had few missile weapons she thought. Suddenly she was uncomfortably aware of the great cannon they had out there and how easily it might convert a roof and a courtesan into so much flying debris. The appropriated rifle banged painfully against her hip with each heave and she cursed herself for bothering with the cursed thing, but it was to late to discard it now. With a final stretch she caught the lip of the window and wriggled through the slender opening, collapsing and gasping for air.

With astonishing suddeness something launched itself from the parapet and slammed into the tiled roof with the strength of a cannonball. Slate tiles flew everywhere and for a second she thought it was a cannonball, or some other siege weapon. Then the thing uncoiled and her blood turned to ice as she recognized the armored form of a Chaos Warrior. Not just any Chaos Warrior either but the oddly scented man who had tried to grab her the night of the ambush. The man reached out a hand and plunged it through the slate, dragging himself up the roof, far faster than she had, in a rain of shattered tiles. Eerie laughterd bubbled from his lips both hungry and somehow depraved. For a second she just stared in horror. If her pistol were with her, or the rifle were loaded she might have tried to make a fight of it, but the pistol was down in the cellar and he would be on her long before she could reload the unfamiliar long arm.

As the warrior climbed he lashed out with the purplish tentacle that sprouted from the ruin of his right hand. Camilla felt the slimy appendage wrap around her waist even as her rapier cleared its scabbard. The strange warrior howled in triumph and yanked on the tentacle intending to yank her out onto the roof. She had been waiting for it. As he pulled she swept her rapier down hard severing the tentacle neatly with the razored blade. Without her weight the warrior over balanced and slid down the roof only managing to stop himself a few feet from the lip. Seizing her advantage Camilla turned and fled, dropping down the ladder and into one of the service corridors of the hall. A moment later she heard the crashing of timbers as the warrior came through the window more directly than she had.

"Woman! You will be mine err the sun sets!" he roared.

"I doubt you can afford it!" Camilla shouted back and took of a run down the hallway towards the tumult in the main hall.

______________________________________________________________________________________

Velabrass was savoring the sweet taste of victory. He could feel the fear of the defenders, penned like cattle in the hall. That fool Guildenhoof would soon have the vial. Tzeentch would reward his faithful servant well for his work this day. But Tzeentch was a fickle deity and no sooner had he formed the thought than a vast red shadow burst from the southern edge of the valley. He had but a moment to recognize the massive winged form as the herald of death it was. A great red firedrake of the kind that was seldom seen this age. The beast reared back and belched a torrent of flame, almost blue with heat into the trees and even over the howling rush of air to feed the flames the screams of beastmen could be heard.

The hellcannon was there. The beast would destroy it for certain. So many sacrificed souls sacrificed to the Dark Dwai lost. It was a test sent by Tzeentch he decided. All that mattered was taking the vial and the sword from this place. He could rebuild anything once he had those twin boons to boast of. Snarling a curse he had learned from the twisting Aurora he strode through the assembled beastmen, decapitating one in sheer frustration. It was time to end this.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic fought like a man possessed, growling and roaring as if he too was a Beastman. The Halbderdiers had impaled and butchered more Chaos filth than Cyrdic could count, but their line had been broken. Now Halbderdiers, Swordsmen, Axeman, and even unlucky ranged troops fought in a terrifying melee that filled the Great Hall with a baptism of blood. Cyrdic hacked and stabbed with his sword, bludgeoning and blocking with his large round shield.

When Camilla ran out into the Great Hall, Cyrdic almost looked like a demon himself, so covered in blood. He slashed at a Chosen of Chaos, his runic sword slicing through the warrior's plate armor and severing its leg. He ended the lesser Champion's life by stabbing into its chest, not even hesitating to give the coup de grace. Cyrdic whirled, sword leading. He felt a cold chill spread across his body when he realized he had almost cut Camilla on instinct, stopping his sword mere inches from her.

His chest heaving, he felt both a sense of relief and dread at seeing her alive. On the one hand, he was glad to find her still breathing so he could die alongside her. But he also hated the idea of seeing her perish. That last thought filled his mind when something tall and swift slammed into the wall just behind her, and all but slithered out into the Great Hall. "The vial...give it to me and I shall make your death more pleasurable than you deserve," Gildenhoof said to Camilla. "Or you can give yourself to me and pledge to the Gods..."

Cyrdic bared his teeth, starkly pale against the crimson that painted his face. His sword had pushed him into an animalistic anger, and he rushed passed Camilla on instinct, with a slash of his sword almost too fast for the eye to follow. Gildenhoof deflected it with his own razor-edged blade, but just barely.

"Ah yes, you're the one who will watch when I kill her," Gildenhoof giggled, and counter attacked with the swiftness of a serpent. Cyrdic parried, and they traded blow after blow, the Ostlander snarling and fighting with a savagery that befit his Norscan shield. Little did he see the tentacle of Gildenhoof snake around and grab his ankle, ripping it out from under him and sending Cyrdic to the ground.

What Gildenhoof hadn't suspected was that Cyrdic's sword sang out even as he fell, severing the Champion's arm. He let out a shriek, and sunk back, weakened. Cyrdic had to collect himself for a moment, but Gildenhoof was wounded, worry finally appearing on his face.
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla's blade danced in the thrusting melee. She was far to light to adsorb the frenetic energy of battle so she moves strategically keeping shattered furniture and bigger men between her and potential obstacles. As strategies went it wasn't great but it kept her from being trampled alive. She lashed at Gildenhoof with her rapier, but the weapon merely rang on his baroque armor, too light to pentrate the fell mail that protected him.

When the Slanneshi champion fell back his left arm severed below the elbow she leaped forward swinging her blade at his neck with all her might. The sword clanged musically against the armor and then a tentacle shot from the severed stump to wrap around her waist, jerking her off her feet. With inhuman strength he hauled her to him, tentacles binding her to the front of his mail like living armor. The thing seemed to extend coiling around her upper-body, her breasts and eventually her neck. The other tentacle began to slide through her clothing, searching for the vial. Her skin crawled and she whimpered in revulsion, the appendages weren't slimy exactly but they had a damp unnatural heat to them.

"She will die in slow exstacy for your impudence," the warrior hissed, his voice taking on a serpentine rasp as he began to back away, tentacles coiling painful tight, squeezing the air from Camilla's lungs.

As he spoke the doors of the hall blew of their hinges in a rainbow couruscance of arcane power. Velabrass Champion of Tzneetch stalked in, his blade flickering like black lightning and leaving a trail of dead and maimed defenders. Behind him came a great roar that froze the blood of all in the hall, even the beastmen momentarily paused to cower.

"It is over," he snarled, pointing a finger at one luckless handgunner and blasting the man to steaming meat.

"Kill them all!"
@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

"Camilla!" Cyrdic cried, desperation in his voice. If he and Camilla were going to die, it wasn't going to be by this disgusting spawn's hand. Despite his own self preservation, he launched himself at Gildenhoof as the Chaos Champion moaned from his close proximity to the intertwined courtesan. Gildenhoof had just managed to coil his tentacle around the vial, crying out in glee at the discovery, when Cyrdic slammed into him from the side, sending the vial onto the floor and the Champion staggering. The tentacle around Camilla uncoiled slightly, just enough for the lithe figure to slip out if she had the strength.

Cyrdic had severed the tentacle by its root, though it still wrapped around Camilla, and while limp, it moved to tighten its hold on her again as if it was a sentient snake. The tip of it caressed her face almost lovingly. Meanwhile, Cyrdic's next stroke was blocked by the Champion's sword, or so Gildenhoof thought. His blade was in the way, but Cyrdic's sword of Ulric chopped through the Chaos blade and into Gildehoof's collarbone.

Reflexively, the Slaaneshi Champion bucked lewdly in his death spasm and struck Cyrdic with a backhand from his jagged armor, cutting the man across the body in a spray of blood and sending him skidding into the slaughter. Gildehoof fell to his knees, sighing as if he was receiving a massage, and then falling over dead. The vial was mere feet from Camilla, as was the handgun.

Cyrdic chocked, and stood up uneasily as man fought beast. The next roar of the Dragon sent tremors across the entire castle. Briefly, Cyrdic recognized the sound. He'd heard it before, in the forest. But what he saw next truly piqued his memory, for Velabrass waded through the melee, having spotted the weakened Cyrdic. With a casual backhand, a man's jugular was severed with surgical precision from the Tzeentch Champion's sword.

Cyrdic had no illusions about the outcome of his fight with the Champion. He was much too weak to survive. But...he wasn't about to flee now.

"So you're the bitches guard dog," Velabrass said, chuckling within his helm. "I do not have machinations for you or her as Gildenhoof did. I'll simply kill you, and take the vial. Now where is it?"

Cyrdic slashed at the Champion, only for Velabrass to easily block it. His return stroke nearly took off Cyrdic's head, the Ostlander wounded and exhausted, almost beyond what he could bear. Their swords rang on impact. "If you do not tell me, I'll kill her slowly first, and then kill you."

Outside, the Dragon's claws rended the outerwalls, widening the hole so the beast could better fit in the courtyard.
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla scrambled across the floor, desperately snatching at the vial, but it seemed that each time she almost reached it a cloven hoof or booted foot would kick it away again. She had lost her rapier when the Chaos Champion had grabbed her so all she had to hand was her dagger. She slashed the blade at hamstrings and drove it into ankles as she skittered across the floor finally cornering it as she made it onto a slightly raised area, still slightly protected by ancient ballustrading.

The noise in the room was beyond belief. Beastmen screamed and brayed, human soldiers wailed as they died, weapons clanged and handguns popped but above it all was the sheer bowel wrenching screech of the dragon. It howled its rage and tore at the stone work, great claws tearing stones from ancient masonry walls as it strove to tear its way into the hall. They would all die then, die in a snap of claws or a gout of flame Camilla was sure. Still it seemed there was little she could do about it for now.

Across the room Cydric fought the Tzneetch champion. The Chaos warrior was impossibly fast, his sword darting in like lightning. Each time he struck Camilla was sure Cydric was dead and a stab of terror filled her heart, but each time, impossibly his blade rose to knock the attack aside. Cydric made no attacks of his own, weary from the afternoons fighting he seemed to be able to marshall little to throw at his opponent and the result of such a one sided battle could not be in doubt.

With fumbling hand Camilla picked up the rifle. Her cartrige pouch was gone, lost on the desperate scramble up the roof. In one of her pockets was the half used cartriage she had used to prime the rifle, though most of the powder was gone. With resignation she looked down at the flask of silvery powder Olden had given her. With jerky motions she began to load the rifle, cursing at how difficult it was to force the shot and paper down the barrel. It was the rifling she knew, but she still had to use her whole body weight to drive the ram rod. With desperate haste she primed the pan and lifted the rifle to her shoulder. The melee swirled between her and Cydric but she saw the Ostlander go down as he lost his footing. The Chaos champion lifted his blade. There was no shot through the crowd but there was nothing else she could do. Camilla closed her eyes and pulled the trigger.

Velabrass raise his runesword to deliver the death blow, feeling Tzneetch's approval was over him. A weaker man might have taken a moment to gloat but he knew that the death blow was all that mattered. Suddenly he felt his vision lift from his body as sometimes it had on his vision quests in the warpstorm blasted north. It swept over the raging battle to the corner where a small Tilean girl pointed a rifle through the crowd. He sniffed in derision her eyes were shut and head turned away from the weapon. Pathetic, even if she scored a hit there was no way such a weapon could pierce his defensive enchantments. She squeezed the trigger. The world seemed to slow to a crawl as the flint slid forward into the pan but instead of the normal flash of dirty yellow flame, it kindled a white as pure and bright as meteoric iron. The weapon recoiled into the girls shoulder and she screamed in pain, flinging it aside but the damage was done. The bullet streaked across the floor on a comet tail of pure white heat tearing through Imperials and beastmen alike.

Velabrass Chose of Tzneetch had just enough time to panic before the shot split his helm like a woodsman's axe and plowed into the wall shattering stones and sending spider cracks out through the masonry for a dozen feet in every direction. THe armored form fell to its knees for a moment and then pitched over onto its side with a clang. A collective wail went up from the beastmen and they turned to flee. Then the ceiling started to cave in and half tone blocks of stone were raining down. The dragon had finally made it to its prey.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic shuddered, his head lowered as Velabrass was about to aim the killing blow. But then he heard a small crack through the maelstrom of noise, and a very real clang as Velabrass pitched over dead, a gaping hole in the Champion's helmet. Cyrdic didn't understand for many moments, and even as the Dragon tore into the courtyard, Cyrdic turned to see Camilla peeking out from behind the smoking barrel.

He was dumbfounded for a moment, but soon found strength made from his own fear when he saw the great maw of the Dragon rear down, flames licking its drool-slick jowels. Rows upon rows of teeth nearly as large as his sword gleamed from the firelight. Cyrdic suddenly felt like he wanted to live, or to at least try. They'd gotten so far.

He staggered to his feet, gripping his weapons and running over to Camilla. "We have to move" he told her, and the two sprinted down the hallway connected to the Great Hall. An eardrum shattering roar rent the air, and then a gush-like sound filled the castle. Cyrdic felt the temperature rise first. He saw the flames only moments after, the fire breath so all encompassing it engulfed the Great Hall and even now flowed into the side hall.

With a cry of fear, Cyrdic shoulder rushed a door to the side. He and Camilla dived in, only to find there was no floor to land on. Instead Cyrdic hit wooden steps, tumbling down into darkness as the flames bypassed them on the outside. The broken man lay at the bottom, too wounded and tired to move. He felt Camilla next to him, her having landed on his arm and leg.

Within the Castle, the Dragon stepped atop scorched men and beasts, its great head crushing through the stonework, to find its way into the cellar. It had smelled its children, and another as well. Below the Drake, Gilderoy stood over one of her offspring, the Egg having been crushed by him when he had tripped over one of the castle's tremors. He didn't have the frame of mind to even scream...
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla swam up from the dark waters of unconciousness only to have the blinding pain drive her back under. An uncertain time later she opened her eyes again. The pain was no less severe but, having some idea of what to expect, she was able to cope with it. Dust drifted down from the darkness and she sneezed convulsively, the action spreading more pain across her chest as she tried to roll to her feet. It was pitch dark she knew she must be underground. The last thing she remembered was Cydric grabbing her. In a panic she groped around until she found something warm and soft. Further exploration revealed it to be an arm and to her relief it was attached to a body. Reaching into her leather pouch she drew out the phial of silverish gunpowder, slightly depleted and held it aloft. The light was very faint, but she was able to make out Cydric and, though battered, he appeared to be still breathing.

They appeared to be in one of the alcoves of the cellar. The room was large and the knights only ever used a part of it. With slow deliberation she forced herself to her feet and began to scout around. After a few minutes she found what appeared to be a barrel of lantern oil and, for a miracle, an unbroken lantern. Her pistol and the rifle she had used were gone, lost somewhere in the rubble above her so she made her way back to Cydric and rifled through his pouches until she found a flint and steel and got the lantern going.

With the light burning she was able to see better and to her relief could see the slow rise and fall of Cydric's chest.

"Thank you Ulric, if you are watching," she breathed, laying a slender hand on his head. Working quickly she scouted the cellar. All of the stairs up were blocked with what appeared to be tons of fallen masonry, as well as several of the vaulted chambers that led to other areas of the large cellar. There didn't appear to be any immediate way out. Fortunately there was food and wine and she gathered up meat, cheese and several skins of wine and took them back to where Cydric lay. Popping open a water flask she began to gently bathe his forehead with the cool liquid. Once Cydric was wake, she would worry about being buried alive.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

When the Ostland mercenary hit the ground, he'd been knocked into unconsciousness for many minutes. He knew nothing but darkness, and for all he knew he could already be dead. But then he felt an ache. And moisture along his face, and a soothing voice drifting into his ears. The young man opened his eyes, the floor underneath him as unforgiving as his wounds. He felt stabbing pain and aches every time he even testing shifting.

"I'm glad you're alive," he murmured, still looking terribly out of it. He must have been dreaming, he told himself. Surely no one could have survived the Chaos onslaught and the Dragon. Not he, nor Camilla. This must have been the realm of Morr, he thought to himself, until the pain in his body stung him yet again. He didn't think he'd have kept the same broken form in the underworld. Which meant he must be in one of the cellars...

He coughed, actually trying to laugh in disbelief at their surviving. The mirth was good. It woke him up a bit more, and he realized after collecting his thoughts, Camilla had been taking care of him. The sergeant reached up, and took her hand in his, before kissing it. "Thanks," he told her. The warmth in his eyes spoke volumes, before he gritted his teeth and did his best to sit up.

"Sigmar," he groaned, realizing he must have had several broken bones. A rib, perhaps an arm, and possibly a hip.

Still, he wasn't about to leave his partner without help. They were a team after all, if not more. He wasn't quite sure. But then again, they hadn't had the time to talk about it. He opened one eye as he sat up fully, and saw the predicament they were in. "Figures," he grunted. "Are you alright?"
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla let out a relieved breath and knelt down to hug Cydric before his grunt of pain informed her of her mistake. She sat back, embarrassed at her foolishness.

"Sorry," she muttered.

"Ok is sort of a relative term I guess," she responded sitting back heavily on her rump and then laying herself to the cool flagstone beside him. It felt dangerously good just to lay still and she knew that it probably wasn't the best idea but she was just too tired and sore to do much else.

"My arms feel like they have been torn out of their sockets, I'll have bruises from hip to tit, my skin is still crawling from those weird tentacles, I lost my sword, lost my pistol, lost my rifle and now I appear to have been buried under most of a castle by a rampaging dragon." She couldn't help but giggle slightly as she stared up at the ceiling.

"Damnit there was a fortune in sapphires in the hilt of that sword, but, given the circumstances, I suppose ill settle for being alive. Are you going to be ok?"

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

He gave her a grin that he would often give to new recruits. It was the kind of smile that said 'nothing we can't handle.' "I'll be fine. Ulric knows I need some bed rest, but..." With a supreme force of will, he placed one hand on his knee, and then got to his feet, ignoring the cuts, scrapes, and broken rib. They still had work to do. "We need to get out of here first."

He placed his hands on his hips, and looked around the dimly lit room. The lantern fire danced off his cheeks' scar, and gave his iron eyes the look of gold or bronze flecked within them. He gripped his sword hilt, and seemed to almost draw strength from it, as if the weapon itself helped him stand a tad easier than he normally would. Maybe he wasn't healing unnaturally, but he certainly seemed to have a fair bit of energy for someone who had been fighting all day.

"Come on," he told her, giving her a hand to help her up, despite his hip still very much hurt. He only winced at the movement. "Once we find a way out, I'm getting us a huge dinner and a comfortable room," he said. He gazed at some of the connecting rooms as he spoke. "We still have some treasures left.. Time we fucking used some." Cyrdic turned to her. "You think so?"

They searched the other cellars that were connected to this one. The first room had nothing but cheese and brandy. The next room looked to be a place to clean and maintain weapons. That would have come in handy if the battle above had turned out differently, Cyrdic thought cynically.

The last room was a dead end as well, it seemed like. There were apples and fruit lining all of the walls except the back one. Upon bringing their lantern further, Cyrdic could see a crack in the very fragile looking masonry...
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla smiled in the near darkness. Dinner and a big room sounded just fine to her.

"It's a date, assuming we can find somewhere with less Skaven and Cultists," she said with a pained grin. She leaned close to observe the crack Cydric had discovered, pressing her fingers into it experimentally and trying to ignore the discomfort of bending over. There was a slight air current that brushed her fingers as she did so. Straightening up she returned to the smithy and took one of the dusty hammers from a rack. Hefting the awkward tool over to the crevice she drew it back and struck the stone with the heavy head. There was a cracking sound and another blow knocked a chunk of rubble the size of her fist into a space behind the wall.

They alternated the work, neither being able to marshal a particularly impressive effort but after twenty minutes they had a hole wide enough for both of them to crawl through. It was a tight squeeze but after a few minutes they stood in an ancient tunnel of some kind, apparently blocked off when the cellar had been created. It smelled faintly of old mould although it was hard to tell over the smell of crushed motar dust which had coated the cellar after the dragons attack.

Camilla leaned down and touched her fingers to the stones. They were dry but very smooth to her fingers, evidence of many years of water flowing over the stonework.

"It's a disused aqueduct," she said confidently.

"They must have sealed it up when they dug the well in the courtyard," she mused. She pulled a coin from her pocket and dropped it to the ground, watching it slowly roll from left to right. She turned left and looked into the darkness, water had to flow down hill after all. Carefully she slipped a hand under Cydric to help him walk.

"Well, next stop Altdorf," she declared with false enthusiasm and the two companions began to limp into the darkness.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

The journey was slow going, and the aqueduct was much further than either would have thought. In fact the two slept twice during their foray into the darkness. It reminded Cyrdic far too much of the Middle Mountains, and oftentimes he had trouble sleeping because he suspected Ratmen or Goblins to charge from some unknown corridor in the darkness. But speaking to one another and joking, eating the provisions they brought, and helping one another walk, they made it to the edge of the cavern. A makeshift door was at the top, and with both of them pushing, the door burst open and they fell into soft earth.

Once they collected themselves, they saw the two of them were overlooking a sizeable town below the sloping hill they stood on, and a massive river in the distance. Past that, huge walls and looming spires covered what Cyrdic knew must be Altdorf, if his guess was correct. Which meant this town below them must be Carroburg.

He didn't care if it was Praag in the middle of a Chaos incursion. He just needed a bed, and some food, and the wind on his face was far more pleasant than he had ever remembered it being. He also needed a bath, he decided.

6 hours later...

Carroburg was a veritable maze of twisting streets and stairs. Since water and waste travel downhill, the more well-off the residents of a neighbourhood are, the higher up the hill they would be Cyrdic learned. The bottom tier of the city practically felt the lapping of the river Reik flowing across their boots. He could have done without the stairs, truth be told. He had healed much quicker than he had anticipated, but he still felt far too stiff for his liking.

Once they had reached a tavern, they had set about contacting the Carroburg authorities so they could send word to Altdorf about their package. Unbeknownst to them, the cousin of Boris Todbringer, Leopold von Bildhofen, Duke of Carroburg (and rumored relative of Magnus the Pious), heard of their arrival. In true blunt Middenland fashion, he immediately invited them to his house as guests. If Cyrdic had doubts of this being Carroburg at first, passing the famed Greatswords of Carroburg that stood on guard at his estate was an eye opener.

Leopold von Bildhofen had them regale their tale to him, guffawing with horror and barking with laughter at every turn of the story. He claimed he wouldn't have believed it if it were not the fabled heroes of Middenhiem. Once he was satisfied, he offered them a place to stay in his cousin's estate, next door. Boris never truly visited, but as the Count of Middenland, he had a vast palace to live in this important trade city.

It was an ancient mansion, tall with narrow windows and no entrances to the residence on the ground floor, oddly enough. Cyrdic heard rumor it was so that the mansion would be harder to storm from rioting peasants. He didn't want to think about a wrathful and powerful man like Boris Todbringer fighting peasants who dared insult him.

Baths and food had been provided for them. Cyrdic had gotten out of his bath first, and had made it to their room to check and clean his equipment. He still found it funny they couldn't use the Graf's room. Not that he felt he deserved it, but if they were here and he wouldn't be for months, he did not see the problem. He guessed he was used to sharing room with soldiers.

His feet killed him and his legs were sore, but he didn't relent wiping his sword, shield, and treasures of grime and wet until they were clean. The food that had been provided for them was set on the table next to the huge bed. Cyrdic wore new, loose fitting trousers that were quite comfortable to wear, and a soft linen shirt lay across his shoulder, not yet on his body. Once Camilla walked in, she'd see his scarred back to her as he finished wiping his Norscan shield. The food smelled extravagant. It must have taken some will for Cyrdic not to dig in before her.
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla luxuriated in the bath allowing the heat to take away a meaure of the many discomforts. The marble tub reminded her of the palaces she had lived in back in Tilea. Imperials tended to use metal tubs, even their nobles and she thought there was some deep pshycogical point that could be drawn from the choice but for the moment it eluded her. The Duke's physician, a small wiry man who claimed to be from Ind, but Camilla was certain was just a particularly sun baked Estilian, had tended their wounds. It had not been a pleasnt process, particularly for Cydric but she felt she was recovering.

Slipping out of the tub she dried herself with a towel and then brushed her hair, surreptitiously slipping the pearl handled hairbrush into a pouch. Somehow she doubted the Graf would miss it. Finally she slipped into a satin robe and headed back to the main room to join Cydric. She entered the room as he finished rubbing oil or some such onto his shield. Camilla had little understanding of weapon maintenance beyond a general sense that one should keep a sword sharp and clean it before it went away. She supposed she would need to buy a new sword sometime soon.

She walked across the room noticing with relish the feast that had been laid out upon the table. A large roast fowl of some sort, a duck she thought but maybe a goose lay upon a plater beside cheeses, and carved sausages. To her delight there were even pomegranates, large red purple fruit which were native to Tilea and she hadn't seen since she left that sun drenched kingdom. Quietly she slipped over to Cydric and trailed a finger tip down his scarred back. He didn't jump so clearly he had heard her coming despite her caution. He turned and she sat down beside him with a playful smile, setting the robe around her body as she did so.

"I'm afraid I kept all of mine clean by virtue of burying them under a castle," she said conspiratorially. Her stomach grumbled at the thought of the food on the table but she leaned back slightly, stretching her sore muscles.

"The Duke's people took the phial," she explained, "I guess poor Olden got his wish afterall."
@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

He'd heard her entering, but the Ostlander hadn't expected her to run her finger along his back. He blinked, shuddering slightly because it tickled. Cyrdic couldn't help but laugh happily as she sat down next to him, shaking his head as she spoke. "You have it all figured out, eh?" he joked with her, setting his shield down and slipping his shirt over his hard, muscled torso. It was quite a contrast, the stark white linen on his sun-tanned features and dark hair.

He caught himself looking at her when she stretched, and instead decided to fill his vision with the roast fowl. Admittedly, that was a pleasant sight in and of itself. He began to cut it and place food on their plates, speaking as he did so. "Herr Olden would just be glad we delivered it." Cyrdic replied, and tossed her a pomegranate lightly, giving her a wink. "He was a good man. We might not have known him long, but it was easy to tell."

As they ate and drank their fill, the lowered sun completely went below the hills. Only the torches and the fire that blazed in the fireplace illuminated the room, though it was still plenty to see with. He had a bit of sausage in his cheek when he next spoke, giving him the comical likeness of a very rugged chipmunk. "Ulric knows there were a lot of good men at that Castle," he said with a stoic melancholy, and Cyrdic shook his head. "I'm just glad we found each other at the end. I don't think either of us would have lived if we hadn't."

The mental image of Gildenhoof having captured Camilla was something he had to shake off, which led to him thinking about her washing his forehead in the basement. He guessed the two of them really were as 'thick as thieves,' an expression his well-read Quartermaster often used.

When Cyrdic placed his mind on a decision, he bullrushed into it. This time was no different, for both of what he was about to do. "Next thing we do? Let's make sure it's a paying mercenary job." he said to her, and as he spoke he placed his utensils down and slipped his fingers around the thin string that rested on his neck, lifting the necklace off himself and placing it in Camilla's hands. It was his mother's necklace.

"I want you to have that," he told her, his hands enclosed around hers. He'd told her along their travels what it was, but only in passing. "I know you'll take good care of it. You've taken good care of my hide, so far."
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla's eyes widened as Cydric pressed the simple necklace into her hands. It had belonged to his mother, one of the few things of hers that he had left.

"Cydric... this...," she fell silent, unable to complete the sentence in any intelligent fashion. Instead she fastened it around her neck and returned her hands to his. For a long moment she was silent, her stomach slightly giddy and she had to fight the urge to make a joke to break the tension. She thought about the fear she had felt when the Chaos Warrior had been about to plunge his blade into Cydric's back. Slowly she lifted a slender hand to his cheek and met his eyes.

"Thank you. I... I know we haven't had a chance to talk about things since Middenheim." Her mind flashed back to kissing him when he lay exhausted after the battle with the Grey Seer, filled with relief and joy at the simple fact that he had survived. It was somewhat ironic that she wasn't better off at this given it had been her profession since she was old enough to make it so. She licked her suddenly dry lips.

"Look I ... I care for you," she confessed in a rush and then cursed herself for her choice of Riekspiel.

"I think maybe I love you," she blurted and went on in a rush, "I've never been with someone because I wanted to Cydric, not ever, I'm not really sure how to go about it without making it seem fake..." She trailed off her face uncharacteristically reddening in embarrassment.

@POOHEAD189