[IC] Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic's brow furrowed once more, staring at his ale as she spoke about her experience. He'd wasn't entirely sure if he had ever experienced what she was describing, but he had heard chaos was never coherent, or experienced the same with anyone. Perhaps that was why it was named such. He looked back up to her, and listened intently.

"Anger had always helped me. I suppose I'm not as learned in such matters, despite my past. Most chaos worshipers I've fought slaughtered innocents in the open. I was never quite lured in with such a manner," he said, chuckling in embarrassment. His grin faded when he felt her hand fall upon his.

His face grew hot when she stared into his eyes and thanked him. Immediately the realization he'd had on the street came flooding back into him. His tongue seemed a bit too big for his mouth, and he didn't know what to say even if he could speak. He felt like he looked the fool, but his lips parted, and he was just about to move closer as well until he was broken out of his reverie from a loud banging from the door.

He blinked, looking about as confused as a hound whose master had only acted like he'd thrown the ball. He exchanged a look with Camilla, and told her to stay there as he went to open the door. The powerful and lean sergeant headed for the entrance, and unlatched it, before opening it fully.

He immediately staggered back from a punch. The man who'd thrown it looked between Camilla and Cyrdic's age. Young, but strong. Cyrdic was sure he'd seen him before in passing. He punched at Cyrdic again, only for the soldier to catch the fist with his forearm, and headbutt the man in turn. Cyrdic's head split the man's lip, and he was soon doubled over by a strong hit from Cyrdic, who had him on the ground with another strike.

"What the hell do you want," Cyrdic demanded, standing over him. He placed a boot on the man's back, and the Middenheimer grimly looked up at Cyrdic with hate filled eyed. "Who's the whore?" he asked, spitting in the direction of Camilla. "Haven't you had enough with my woman?"

Cyrdic blinked again. "Explain."

"Oh, already forgotten eh?" he asked, and shoved Cyrdic's boot off him. Cyrdic backed up, standing between the obviously insane man and Camilla. The attacker cracked his knuckles as he rose, but made no more moves against Cyrdic for the moment. "You and my woman, Bella."

"I don't know a Bella," Cyrdic said.

"Don't give me that! Ulric, she's been your waitress for the past week! I've seen how you've looked at each other. I've heard her giggling with the other girls about you!"

It dawned on the young sergeant what he was implying, and Cyrdic snorted. "Listen, I've not touched her. And even if I had, why would you be blaming me and not her? She'd be the one cheating," he said bluntly.

"Don't give me that!" he cried.

"You oaf, why would I go after your girl? I've already-" he began, waving his hand toward Camilla. He was about to dismiss and use the lovers story as to why he and the Brettonian lady were living together. But when his grey eyes fell on Camilla again, it didn't quite feel like a story anymore. He looked at her, his next words breathy. "I've already found someone."
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla fought down the blush that threatened to creep into her cheeks with all the ruthless efficiency a Reikland sergeant might use to straighten a rank of soldiers. She was a past master of controlling her body in almost all ways it could be done. Some of the lessons had been painful, others humiliating but mostly it was about conjuring up various emotional states and controlling your breathing.

The man was obviously agitated but he just as obviously wasn't going to be any threat to Cydric. She wondered if he realized how fortunate he was not to have been pitched down the stairs by his britches already. Probably not, they boy was clearly a fire with jealousy, likely a frequent occurrence if the girl flirted with all the patrons as obviously and as frequently as she had with Cydric.

"I can assure you that Herr Reiner hasn't seen your Bella since we went out this morning," she said reasonably, pulling her leather vest down over her shirt and adjusting the bust laces. The boy sneered, his valor apparently renewed by not having to focus on the big Ostlander.

"Of course you would say that whore!" he spat. Camilla cocked an eyebrow and Cydric drove a fist into the mans stomach hard enough to expel the air from his lungs with an audible whuuff. He dropped to his knees, gasping for air and clutching his stomach, spittle dribbling from the corner of his mouth.

"You shouldn't be so hard on whores," she chided, moving to stand beside Cydric, her hand straying to one of the daggers tucked away on her belt.

"Its an honest living and Ranald knows someone has to do it," she explained patiently.

"Now if your quite done spitting up all over our floor Ill ask you to..."

"They told me she went up to the room with the big man, the told me downstairs," he wheezed. Camilla frowned uncertain what the information meant. Then her eyes drifted to the second large room across the hall from their own. She awkwardly stepped past the intruder into the hall and rapped briskly on the hard oak door. There was no response. It would be a hell of a thing if it turned out the girl was bedding another of the taverns patrons and her beau just happened to show up at the wrong door.

"Bella?" she called, realizing it was the first time she had heard the girls name. There was no response. Belatedly remembering the keys their irate visitor had been jangling she turned and picked them up from where they had fallen to the ground. They were large metal keys with two large teeth. Camilla figured that it would only take her a few seconds to pick the lock if she needed to but was greatful not to have the need to display such an unsavory skill. She fitted the key into the lock and turned it with a heavy click before pushing the door open.

"Ranald's teeth," she breathed in shocked chagrin as the heavy oaken door swung open. The room was almost identical to their own, right down to the large stuffed feather bed. Unlike their room Bella lay on the bed. The girl was naked, displaying the pleasing curves she had when flirting to full effect but the vivavious youth had gone out of her. Her face was black and her eyes bulged, a leather cord wrapped tight around her neck in a neat professional garrotte. Behind her the window stood open, curtains flapping in the uncertain air.

"Ranald's blue bloody balls," she amplified.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic's head lifted up, and he approached Camilla from behind. His eyes widened when he looked over her shoulders, and he coughed from the shock of seeing Bella dead, almost gagging. He'd seen far worse, of course. But when one didn't expect it, and when it was someone whom he'd physically admired not days before, it was an odd and unsettling experience to see them dead, black, and bloated.

"What's the meaning of this?" a voice called down from the end of the hall. The Inn keeper had squinting, bloodshot eyes as if he had just been awakened. "All of this yelling in my establishment. I'll-" he stopped mid sentence when he saw the corpse, and he breathed 'by Ulric' to himself. Cyrdic shook his head, heading past the corpse and to the opened window.

The wind ruffled his linen shirt and caused his hair to sway, but his eyes steeled and remained true. He knew he had seen movement two alleys down, a shadow that had caused a disturbance in Morrsliebs light. It must have been a trick of the eyes, but he was certain he'd seen a tail. Behind him, he heard the renewed wailing of the lover, crying out Bella's name.

"Dammit," he uttered, and turned to Camilla. "I saw someone. I'm going." he said. He didn't know if she was or was not up to go out. When she tossed him his sword, he grinned when he caught it. "And who ever said Bretonnians aren't helpful?" He joked darkly, to keep up the charade of their guises before the distraught citizenry. With that, he leaped down onto the first floor's roof, and then leaped off that to hit the stone street by his boots, charging off into the dark.

He had not checked to see if Camilla was behind him. He felt like they were an effective team, but he'd also have been relieved if she'd stayed for now. Either way, he charged forward like a wolf on the hunt, turning into the alleyway just in time to see the barest hint of a shadow disappear to the left. He kept running, turning this way and that as the chaos moon loomed down from above. It wasn't long until he had reached a dead end, and no killer in sight. Merely a sewer hole.
@Penny

[Penny]

The Innkeeper screamed Bella's name and rushed to the body even as Cydric went out the window after the attacker real or imagined. The innkeeper scooped up the girls body in his arms, an oddly gentle gesture for such a big man and cradled it to him. Camilla wondered if she were his daughter. Turning she shoved passed the man, she had never gotten his name, as he stood shock still, eyes wide and disbelieving.

Snatching up her own weapons belt she tied it around her waist and hurried to the window. Looking out to see Cydric racing along the street in the distance. She put a boot on the sill, intending to boost herself out when the Innkeeper caught her wrist.

"What should we do?" he asked imploringly. Why in Ranald's name ask me? Camilla thought, but the answer was obvious. She was here and she was doing something. He needed to be a part of that.

"They said she came up here with a big man. Find out who it was," she hopped out onto the ledge and coiled her body to jump then cast a look back at the innkeeper.

"And call the watch!" Without another word she leaped into the night. Not down onto the first floor as Cydric had but across the narrow alley to the tiled roof of a boarding house. She rolled with her momentum pulling herself up by a nearby gable before finding her feet and setting off at a run, parallel to Cydric's but two stories higher. Her soft dearskin boots thumped quietly on the tile as she ran, trying to keep her eyes scanning in all directions in case there were others abroad tonight with nefarious intentions.

Camilla moved like lightning across the roofs, jumping from one to the next with hardly a lost stride, occasionally forced to shift to one side or the other to make the gaps manageable. After a few minutes she caught up with Cydric. He was in an alley staring at something she couldn't make out in the weird uncertain light of Morrslieb. She was just about to open her mouth to call out to him when something rose out of a pile of trash behind him. Her heart crawled up into her throat as she saw a flash of red eyes and the glint of steel. Without pausing for a moment she yanked the long barrled pistol from her belt and fired in a single smooth motion. Something inhuman screeched in pain but the recoil from the gun and the unplanned action through her off balance. With an inarticulate and unlovely squawk she toppled backwards of the peak of the roof. Bouncing on her rump her fingers scrambled for purchase on the smooth granite tiles, her body picking up speed as she failed to find it. Suddenly she was out over open air and disappeared into the darkness between buildings.

[Penny]

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic cursed when he thought he'd lost the trail. The Ostlander was certain that the short man had gone this way. Both his surety and sense of danger rose when he heard the gunshot from behind him. He spun, sword leading to fend off any would-be attack, only for him to bear witness to two separate things.

He saw Camilla above him on the roofs, which wasn't too surprisingly now that he had the split second to realize it. It was what she had shot that surprised him. It was short and covered in a cloak, but he saw the unmistakable brown fur and worm-like tail he had grown to loathe. He didn't know what Skaven were doing here, but he needn't worry about this one. It was on the ground, writing and bleeding. He was about to finish it off when he heard Camilla let out an awkward cry from above.

She hit the roof, and began to slide downward. His eyes went from the Skaven who began to pick himself up, to Camilla. "Shallya's tits!" he cried, sprinting for all he was worth out of the short alley and into the next one, just in time to see Camilla sliding off and free falling two dozen feet to the hard ground.

He dropped his sword and leaped, big arms catching her at the last moment. She was light, but even a light person was a heavy object when falling from such heights. He grunted, and had to jerk his body in the air so he would land below her, skidding across the street along his back. He could feel the stone digging into his skin from behind, but he gritted his teeth.

He let out a groan of pain, and coughed as the dust settled. Camilla would be more or less ok, but Cyrdic's shirt would be shredded and his back would be cut in a few small places. Despite this, he laughed weakly. "I don't think Middenheim agrees with you," he said. He felt another stab of pain, and sat up, Camilla's body sliding down onto his lap. "Or me." He said. He was about to get up, but his body was sore. He needed another moment.

"Thanks for saving me," he breathed. "Ulric's beard, that was a Skaven."
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla opened one eye cautiously, expecting to find her brains knocked out on the paving stones. Instead Cydric appeared to have caught her, though Ranald alone knew how he had covered the ground fast enough. She leaned back against him an let out a long slow breath.

"I'd say, considering the circumstances, that we can call it even," she replied with a breathy sigh. Dear gods it was a wonder she hadn't been impaled on her own rapier.

"I know what you mean about Middenheim, I mean, honestly we cant even leave the tavern without..." Something leaped from the alley, black rags fluttering around its body. Camilla had a frozen horrified instant to realise it was the Skaven she had shot, blood and foam flecking its muzzle, its tail twitching spastically in mid air. There was no way she could disentangle herself from Cydric in time to save herself but she made a fumbling grab for the hilt of her sword.

Suddenly the beast pitched backwards one of its red eyes evaporating in a spray of blood and other fluids best not contemplated. A second hole appeared in its breast, or where a humans breast would be in any case and the thing pitched backwards into a pile against the shopfront. Gun shots rang suddenly in her ears where previously there had been only her own thundering pulse. The acrid whiff of powder had just reached her knows when Matis Von Koneinswald walked casually from a side alley, a smoking pistol in either hand.

They were longer and finer pieces than she or Cydric used, dueling pistols she assumed and a matched set at that. He tucked one under his arm and pulled a cartridge from his pocket. With an efficiency of motion he bit the top of the cartridge, poured some powder down one smoking barrel, spat the ball and wadding in and withdrew a small ramrod from the pistols mouth. Without breaking a stride he reached the slumped skaven, tamped down his cartridge with three quick strokes of the rod, placed a pinch of powder into the pan and then shot the thing in the head at point blank range.

This accomplished he turned to face the two stunned mercenaries, arching an eyebrow to once again find them tangled and laying in the street.

"We really have to stop meeting like this," he commented in his clipped Reikland accent.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

"I can't agree more," Cyrdic said to the Witch Hunter, wincing again at the pain before scooping Camilla up and setting her on her feet along with he. The Ostlander cleared his throat, and felt the wind stinging against his near bare-back. But he felt more than ready to kill chaos filth. Not only had they been suspect and killed a (mostly) innocent woman, but they'd ruined his night. At least their attacks had led a lead for the three of them.

He picked up his fallen sword. "It's not a Beastman," he said. "It's a Skaven."

"I know." Koneinswald said, examining the corpse. Cyrdic was taken aback, surprised. The Templar chuckled darkly. "Yes, I know most don't believe they exist. Most Witch Hunters don't either. But I've seen them once or twice. Middenlanders swear they exist, and keep up daily patrols under the sewers for them. Or they had, up until a few months previous when the Sewer jacks were reduced severely. Only someone high up could have called for such an action, though I am certain it was not the Graf. His exploits against Khazrak One-Eye are well known enough." He shook his head. "No, the heretic is someone else. But someone close..."

Cyrdic absorbed the information. He understood now why the Witch Hunter had deduced someone high up had been a follower of chaos, and why such heretics were within the city. Middenheim was far too powerful to be beseiged from without, or below. Unless someone weakened its soft underbelly, and infected it from within.

He lifted his pistol, standing at the ready. "I was hoping to go alone, but if you two are here already, you might as well accompany me below. That is, if you wish to find some answers in this cursed Fortress city."
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla didn't particularly like the idea of going into the dark below the city but nor did she see any graceful way to decline the offer. It seemed that the only way they would prevent more bloodshed, and maybe alot more bloodshed was to find answers. It offended her sense of noblese oblique that princes, or nobles or whatever they called them in the Empire might abuse their positions and cause those whom they were supposed to protect to suffer. She supposed that might be rather a romantic notion for a courtesan to hold be she found she did believe it.

Von Koneinswald led the back to the sewer grate they had found and with Cydrics help they pried it up. The sound of watchmen coming to answer the pistol shots were clear in the distance but it didnt seem to concern the Witch Hunter. The sewers were most notable for their stink. It was an almost phyical blow to the senses and she wrinkled her nose.

"The Glory of service to the Empire Frauline," Matis remarked noting her discomfort.

The sewers, despite the sink were impressive, ancient stone vaults which seemed to run for miles in ever direction. It seemed impossible to know where to go but the Witch Hunter merely produced those odd spectacles, put them on for a moment and then set off, passing Cydric a mirrored lantern which could be shuttered by means of a small lever. Camilla contented herself by taking Cydric's other pistol so that she would have a brace should the need arise, if it did they would all rather Cydric could draw his sword and keep the lantern aloft.

For a time the walked in silence and it seemed to Camilla that the stonework grew progressively shabbier, here and there patches and improvised dykes marred the ancient engineering. The silence began to way on the Tilean and she thought about what had happened on the streets above.

"How is it that you came upon us Herr Von Koneinswald? Seems a strange time and place to meet you," she asked a tinge of concern in her voice. The Witch Hunter grunted what might have been a distant cousin to a laugh.

"It would be strange Vivvienne, if it weren't for the fact that the area beneath that grate is one of the largest nexi in the city. That and the acrobatic pyrotechnics of course." She blushed remembering falling from the roof and cast a thankful glance back at Cydric. To her surprise the Witch Hunter spoke.

"I commend you on a suspicious mind though, it is a rare gift in these guillible times," he stated, pausing to direct their path down a smaller, much narrower passage. It seemed to Camilla that their was a tinge of sadness or frustration.

"Did you aim to hit that skaven in the eye like that? Even while it was leaping through the air?" she asked feeling a need to fill an increasingly tense silence.

"Sigmar guides my shots lady," he replied, pulling his hat down a little lower on his head but she could detect the hint of pride in his voice and pleasure that she had noticed. For some obscure reason it made her feel better that the dour Von Koneinswald could take pleasure in something that he did well and she found herself warming slightly to the Templar. He held up his hand for silence and pointed ahead.

A large jagged crack in the stonework lead to a passageway. It might have been her imagination but she thought she could detect a faint musky scent as well.

"Be careful," Von Koneinswald whispered. Camilla squeezed Cydric on the shoulder to reassure herself and crouched down, checking to make sure both pistols were still primed.
@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic was a bit more used to stink than Camilla. Smelling the armpits of a Norscan as you grappled for your life was about as bad as the sewers, though he had not had the pleasure in some months so it took him a moment to be truly used to the smell. He decided to rip off a piece of his tattered shirt, and he was going to wrap it around his mouth, before he decided to give it to Camilla, wrapping it about her lower face as she took his other pistol. He nearly snorted. She looked like a brigand.

Cyrdic heard Von Koneinswald speak of Sigmar, and he felt an intense surge of righteousness flowing through him as well, only for Ulric. He felt a warmth coming from his sword, and his broad chest swelled, jaw clenching. He knew that up ahead was something that needed to be slain, and swiftly. He caught himself from charging forward when Camilla squeezed his shoulder, and he glanced her way. She was saving his ass even when she didn't realize it.

He was surprised at himself. Usually he was calm and collected, albeit strong in nature. He'd not felt passion in such a wild and violent sense in a long time. He noticeably sighed, and then willed himself to his normal calm, soldier's reserve. He stepped forward, keeping in front of his two companions with their pistols at the ready.

He could almost imagine Skaldi muttering about the shoddy humanwork that led to the crack in the wall. Surprisingly, Cyrdic could tell what parts were carved by men and what parts were Dwarf in nature, from the designs that he caught with the lantern-light. Up ahead, the musky scent grew more powerful, and he turned off his lamp as he moved forward.

Oddly enough, he didn't need it. A sickly, green light emanated up ahead and bathed the next hall of filth in an unnatural light. His breath caught, and he moved forward more slowly, his face looked to be carved from stone.

Once the three rounded the corner, they would see a grey-furred Skaven, with a horned helm. He held aloft a small glowing rock, that seemed to warp reality around its paw. Luckily, it was not very large and not nearly as potent, but it was dangerous nonetheless. Before the Skaven was a man, cloaked and hidden, reaching for the stone. Six other Skaven flanked the leader, black furred, armored, and carrying wicked halberds.

"This shall do excellent," the man said in Riekspeil.

"Be not greedy, man-thing! Tomorrow is the time, not yet. Man-thing must not forget our deal..." the horned one replied, chittering and lashing its tail.
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla froze in place, feeling oddly queasy to her a Ska-Van speak, even in imperfect Reikspiel, she tried to keep her eyes averted from the strange greenish rock. That had to be the warpstone Cydric had spoken off and she felt her skin crawl at the thought of its evil potential. The all huddled there for the moment, quiet and holding their breaths. To her right Camilla saw Von Koneinswald take his spectacles from his coat and raise them towards his eyes before pausing in uncharacteristic indecision and slipping them back into their leather pocket.

Ahead of them the man scoffed.

"Our master keeps his bargains rat," the man sneered, a hint of lofty aristocratic disdain. The rat thing tittered a deeply distrubing sound in its own right.

"Yes yes, the changing one is known for his fidelity," the rat squeaked, clearly amused by the notion.

"Do they know anything?" the man asked sliping the stone away beneath his cloak. It seemed to Camilla that the conversation had turned in some fashion she didn't understand.

"No no, Grimface and the Breeder know nothing, we tortured their breederslave yes yes, they only buy dresses and sell jewelry," Camilla realized with a shock that the rat was talking about them and poor Bella. She cut her eyes sideways to look at Cydric in shock.

"Good, I was afraid they might have been entangled in it somehow, the web was clouded when we asked of their fates. We have an agreement then. It will happen tomorrow at the Counts Ball as promised. The Red Lady herself will be in attendance," the human said, his voice filled with eager anticipation.

"Good good, do not contact me until then, then we will divide the spoils yes yes!" the rat squeaked. Camilla shivered and checked the pan of the pistol for the twentieth time.

"What should we do?" she breathed, drawing alarmed looks from both Cydric and Von Koneinswald.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic exchanged a surprised look with Camilla. He took a moment to absorb all of the information, and it still made little sense. Why would he and Camilla be specifically...odd to their machinations? The soldier sighed, and realized it didn't pay to dwell on such things. The best thing to do was to act, but at the same time he didn't want to be discovered. If they thought he and Camilla were either none-the-wiser, or dead, best to keep these ratmen and this heretic that way.

But Ulric and Sigmar be damned if he was going to let them escape, too. He knew their vision in the dark was too good for his face to be hidden. It was when he looked back at Camilla that he had an idea.

"I'll not be letting these chaos-filth leave here alive," Von Koneinswald said. Cyrdic ripped another part off his shirt and wrapped it around his face to conceal his identity, just as Camilla had on hers. "Nor me, herr Templar." Cyrdic said grimly, and hefted his sword. He gave a nod to he and Camilla. "Keep your face covered, and stay close behind me," he told her.

The next few seconds happened far too quickly. Cyrdic stepped out into the hall, flashing the Skaven and man with a sudden light. "Oi lads! I found them!" He cried. He wasn't as good at impressions as Camilla, but he felt he caught the low-born sewer jack drawl. He waited until the sewers were filled with the smoke and cracks of gunpowder weapons from behind him, and he charged with his sword leading.

The man cursed, and promptly tried to leap across the filth, barely grabbing on to the otherside, scrambling up as he attempted to flee. The grey-skaven screeched, a bullet in its gut, courtesy of the Witch Hunter. He cried for the remaining skaven to attack, calling them Storm Vermin in broken reikspeil.

Cyrdic desperately wished he had brought his shield. The first halberd thrust from one of the remaining Storm vermin nearly stuck him. He knocked it aside with his sword and closed in, hacking at its neck. The thing ducked, magic metal meeting the black steel of its helm. Cyrdic kicked, knocking it back and staggering it long enough for him to run it through in a vulnerable spot in its armor.

He unceremoniously shoved the dying vermin into the drink. There were three Stormvermin left, and one dragged away the leading Skaven as the other two attacked.
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla's guts clenched as they rushed into the small chamber. It had clearly began life as a natural hollow in the earth which work from sewer construction had opened. She leveled her pistol and fired at the fleeing human and fired with a snap-pop of burning gunpowder. The figure staggered for a moment and then lurched unsteadily towards one of the side passages which honeycombed the main sewer works. Cursing she leveled her other pistol but the traitor was already out of line of sight.

One of the armored Ska-van grabbed the gutshot sorcerer and dragged him back towards a hole in the side of the grotto that looked like it had been dug by the claws of some vast beast. The other two stepped back into the mouth leveling their halberds with their flanks protected by the tunnel wall. Camilla had thought spears an odd choice for creatures that lurked in tunnels but now the logic of the choice was made clear.

Or at least it would have been logical if gunpowder weapons weren't a factor. Camilla leveled the second pistol and fired, it was impossible to miss the opening and the rat things standing within it. There was a massive clang and one of the rats screamed, a fist sized divot hammered into the front of his armor, shattering ribs and flesh and showering the tunnel with sparks. The second rat stepped back further clearly intending to use the still thrashing body of the first as an obstacle to delay the would be sewer jacks. It just snarl something in that horrifying mockery of Reikspiel when its left eye abrubtly transformed into a pile of pulped flesh as the Templar's second pistol short crashed out, scattering a fine grey and red mist into the air behind the thing.

For a moment there was silence, save for the feeble scrambling of mortally wounded skaven, the flow of filthy sewer water and the last dying echos of the pistol's report.

"Sewerjacks! For the Graf!" Von Koneinswald yelled into the silence, his voice a surprisingly credible Middenheim accent, although it didn't have the rough edges that had made Cydrics seem more authentic. As one they bounded across to the tunnel intent on following their prey. As she gazed down the sepulcral tunnel, it seemed a faint green light was illuminating the way... and that it was growing rapidly brighter.

"Down!" someone shouted but she was already moving, throwing herself at Cydric, her intent to knock him out of the mouth of the tunnel. The big Ostlander caught her wait easily and for a moment she clung to him awardly. The skin on the back of her neck began to crawl and a stink like burning swamp grass washed over them. Von Koneinswald hit them both, his slender body had the strength of a cannonball, sending all three of them tumbling to the side in a heap. As she tumbled Camilla had a brief glimpse of some huge ratlike head made of translucent green fire. The thing snapped its jaws with a thunderous concussion and then sucked back into the mouth of the tunnel with the speed of a flame being sucked back towards a fire. All that remained of the two rats were pieces of bone and slivers of rusted armor.

Camilla just gaped in open mouthed horror at the aftermath of the sorcery for a moment and then fell heavily back to the ground, with a relieved gasp.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic's eyes were wide as he saw the unholy magic being unleashed. The Ostlander gazed down at his sword, confused as to why he had just stood there. Even eager to meet the magic head-on. Yes he had been caught unawares by it, but even at the last second, he had chosen to face it instead of getting out of its way. He was just glad both of his companions had the weight that could knock him to the side.

Cyrdic thanked Camilla and herr Koneinswald, checking if they were ok before making his way back to the mouth of the sewer, and peered inward with the torch.

Nothing. Cyrdic breathed a sigh of relief, glad they had at least dealt some damage to those chaos lovers. If there was one thing he'd never get tired of, it was that. His shirt was tatters, his back scraped, and his body covered in grime, but he felt satisfied with what they'd accomplished, even if it wasn't nearly enough to make him comfortable.

Tomorrow night, there would be an attack on the city, and the Count's ball. Cyrdic and Camilla needed to tell the Chamberlain. Though who this 'red lady' was, he couldn't guess.

Koneinswald cleared his throat, and helped Camilla up before dusting himself off. "Vile filth," he spat. "Why any man would break bread with a ratkin is beyond me." The Witcher checked his remaining shot and powder, speaking almost casually. "I assume you two will be at tomorrow's daemon summoning?"

Cyrdic snorted at the joke. "We'll look out best too." he said.

"I'll be searching the poor district, though I might show myself there as well. Unseen, of course. If I were to walk in, the time for subtlety would be over."
@Penny

[Penny]

The three weary and smelly sewer jacks parted company at the same sewer cover they had climbed down. It was full night in Middenheim by now which was a surprising disappointment as she climbed up and out of the sewer with the help of Cydric's proffered hand. If the dead skaven had caused any excitement it was long over and while the street lamps burned their oil cheerfully, there was no sign of the watch. There was a slight eriee mist hanging over the streets and while they occasionally caught sight of figures moving in the fog, they were untroubled upon their return to the inn.

Camilla had been expecting the same rioutous bussiness from the previous evening, and was working hard to conjure a lie that would explain both the smell and their tattered and battle scared clothing, but as they approached she saw it was unusually empty. Rather than waste time they bulled right in to find that the place was indeed deserted. A young man who bore an obvious resemblance to the Innkeeper sat on one of the bar tables facing one of the pantries. Another young man whom Camilla didn't recognise sat watching the door, a large coachgun of somesort in his lap. Both youths relaxed when they saw Cydric and Camilla step through the door.

One of the large bar tables had been upended and pulled across the opening to the pantry, now empty of its ususal trove of food. A large man with a bloody pressure cut on his forehead stood there gagged and tied. Camilla figured that he could have gotten free of the bindings and gotten over the table, but certainly not in time to avoid a cudgel to the skull or the blast of a coach gun.

"Herr Reiner," said the boy with the blunderbuss, his face washed with relief as he hopped down of the table and made his way over to the pair of them. His eyes widened at the sight of them, and probably the smell as well, but he choose not to ask.

"My cousin and my uncle," he made a gesture to the boy watching the pantry, "Found this man like the Lady Du Courrone said, he told me to keep him here till he gets back. He went looking for you I think."

Camilla blinked, momentarily flumoxed, then she recalled that Bella had gone up to the room with 'a large man' and she had told the innkeeper to try to track him down. Certainly she had never expected the man would manage it, but apparently either he was more formidable than he seemed or he was proof of the aphorism that everybody got lucky sometimes.

"He was trying to get out the Eastern gate," the boy went on proudly, "I figured he would go that way because its the quickest route out of the city after dark." Camilla arched an eyebrow impressed. That was quick and clear thinking in a crisis.

"We need to get word to the Count's Chamberlain, bring me quill and ink and ill write it out for you, also get someone to get some water heated for ..." she trailed off as the boys face fell. Bella would normally have done that particular task she realised.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic felt intense sympathy for both Camilla and the young boys. He met Camilla's eyes, and gave her a nod. His look told her to be strong, and she was doing all that she needed to do. "Boys," he said suddenly, and headed over to them. He placed his hand on the younger one's shoulder.

It was an odd thing. Cyrdic might not act like it, but he was still quite young himself. It was his powerful voice, and the scars, that made him stand out. That, and being a personal guest to the Graf and an adventurer didn't hurt. "Good job. You two should be proud." he said, bolstering them in their time of mourning. "Now, one of you get the lady her ink and pen, and the other set up a pair of baths. There'll be good coin in it for you." His reassuring smile got them to their feet as much as the clear order he had given.

And then, the 'older brother' figure turned into a wrathful soldier of the empire, his eyes grimly set on the captured man. "Get up," he growled, grabbing the man by the shirt and lifting him up. As the young men went off to do their duties, the big man now saw his chance to break free, and attempted to shove Cyrdic to the ground.

The Ostlander sidestepped and kicked the legs out from under him, anticipating the move. He smacked into the wooden planks of the floor, until Cyrdic lifted him back up and slugged him. "You think I've never dealt with prisoners before?" he said, gripping the man's arms in an iron grip and shoving him into an empty room. Before he strode in there, he told Camilla to write the letter and not to worry about the prisoner. He'd deal with him.

A few hard punches, and a broken finger later, the man looked ready to break down. Still tied and bound, only his gag had been removed.

"Alright! Alright!" he cried after his nose had been broken. Cyrdic wiped the blood off his knuckles. "Talk, or your neck breaks next."

Camilla entered the room as he said it, and Cyrdic casually asked if the bath was ready.
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla composed her note quickly. She wrote it in Brettonian, the Chamberlain having already demonstrated his proficiency in that tongue, informing him that they had vital information and needed to meet as soon as possible. That done she melted some candle wax onto the letter and sealed it with one of the rings they had taken from the horde in the mountains. To her immense revulsion she saw that the seal was that of a handsome man with no eyes.

She tried to ignore the screams of pain as best she could as she wrote, though he noticed that the boy flinched with each reverberating blow. He was very young, maybe sixteen she guessed, although these northerners always seemed to mature faster than the Tilean's to her eyes. He looked scared, angry and sad all at once.

"What is your name?" she asked the boy. He snapped back from whatever he had been imagining his face coluring slightly.

"Klaus... Klaus Frau... I mean My Lady," he stammered. Camilla smiled at him in an effort to calm him but it seemed only to fluster him more.

"Take this to the Chamberlain, tell her that a certain Lady sends it most urgently and that it is to go into no hand but that of the Chamberlain. He is a jolly fat man called Osfurth, do you understand?" The boy took the letter, stared at it for a second and then tried to bow and stuff the missive into his shirt at the same time, the resulting failed bow and failed stowage were predictable. Recovering he managed to get the letter concealed and spun and trotted out without another word.

Getting up she returned to the common room where Cydric had evidently persuaded the man to talk. Blood ran down from his pressure cut, broken open by a blow and several knew bruises were already swelling. The mans nose looked like a half squashed apple.

"The water is heating but it will be a minute before its hot enough," she replied quietly. At this the thug through up his hands.

"Please, please don't boil me, Ill tell you what I know, its not much but ill tell ya!" he half bleated. His accent was strange to her ears although it had something in common with Cydrics it was different enough to remark upon. Camilla blinked at that, the thought of boiling the man alive in a bath would never have even occurred to her. She folded her arms and put on an appologetic expression.

"I'm sorry monsieur, I'm afraid that decision isn't up to me to make you see. My friend here was very fond of that girl you lured upstairs and I doubt there is much I can do to talk him out of it," her words dripped with genuine regret. The other boy, not Klaus set the blunderbuss down on the table his eyes wide and scared but after a moment he pulled himself together. Camilla was just as glad he put the gun down, he was twitchy enough to spray them all with rusted nails and bird shot by accident.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic winked at her, and then turned back to the killer who's face was now stark white with terror. "You best have good information, or we'll be cooking a murderer tonight." the soldier said, his voice's surety pretty much hammered the nail into the coffin for this man. "I never seen their faces!" he cried, hyperventilating.

Sweat beaded down his bloodied and bruised face. "I've been working for these chaps the past few months, see? They knew where to find me. Knew I was someone good at getting things down without asking questions." Cyrdic glanced to Camilla, and then turned back to the thug. "Go on."

"Most of the time I'm given letters and such on what to do, with payment inside. This time I get met by someone. Only the second time I did. Only this chap was different than the first. He spoke all posh-like. Told me I was doing the Graf a service, and gave me an extra gift. A-A seal. Told me I'd need it to get in here and talk to the pretty girl!"

Cyrdic asked where it was, and when the man told him the back pocket, Cyrdic produced a wolf seal just as the ones Camilla and Cyrdic had. "Said I'd use it to convince the girl to take me to the room, so I could ask her about you two."

"Torture her." Cyrdic corrected. The man squirmed. "I was just following orders!"

Cyrdic's next punch knocked the man out before he could even cry out. It was so powerful that it knocked his chair back after snapping his head to the side, and he fell onto the ground. Cyrdic let out a breath, obviously fuming from the plea of innocence from such a man. That, and all of the danger to Camilla, and being roughed up himself. He growled, and tried to calm himself, closing his eyes.
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla watched the whole affair without comment. Fury boiled within her and she realized she was balling her fingers into fists. With a deliberate effort she forced herself to unclench her hands. It took her a moment to bring herself undercontrol and when she did she reached over the bar plucked a bottle from beneath it, more or less at random, popped the stopper free and took a long drink. She guessed it was some sort of fortified wine, but truthfully she didn't much care.

"Well," she began in a tight voice, "I suppose that more or less confirms the theory that someone from the court was involved." It was technically possible to forge a seal, but any smith or jeweler that did so had to know that their very life was forefit if such a thing were discovered.

The boy looked both queasy and nervous, clearly wishing that his father had already returned. The boy was brave and apparently competent but he was young. Younger then Camilla had been at fifteen that was for sure, Cydric to unless she very much missed her guess.

"What... what should we do with him?" the boy stammered. Camilla took another drink and pushed the bottle towards Cydric. She wouldn't do herself any favors by making herself drunk.

"You have empty wine barrels in the cellars no?" she asked. The boy nodded.

"Shove him in one and nail the lid on," she instructed.

"Then what?" the boy asked, clearly perplexed.

"Roll it off the mountain for all I care!" Camilla snapped and the boy jumped over to the unconcious prisoner and began to drag him towards the steps which led down to the cellar, tears standing out in his eyes. Guilt washed over her, she hadn't really needed to shout at the boy, he had peformed like a hero in this whole sad affair afterall.

"The water will be ready," she said curtly and wearily pushed herself to her feet and headed for the vat of hot water, hoping to clean the stink of sewers and worse things off her body before the Chamberlain arrived.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic joined Camilla, or as to say, he went to the other bath and placed the curtain between them in the bathhouse. His body stung and the water was full of dirt and blood when he left it, but he felt much rejuvenated, at least physically. He went to their chambers, and placed a new blanket and pillow on the floor for himself as he did every night at the Boar's Head.

They had received word the Chamberlain was incapacitated at the moment, and that he would see them tomorrow before the ball. Cyrdic hoped the old man well, and had a small worry that perhaps the chaos worshipers had gotten to him, but he shook his head. He would make daemons of everything if he did not keep his wits about himself.

He set down a plate of cheese and ham for he and Camilla to eat, and some water as well. He wasn't particularly hungry now, but he knew he would need it, and so would she. Once they were done, Cyrdic started a fire in the fireplace, and knelt down atop his small bedding on the floor, just next to it. He'd stripped his shirt off (or what was left of it) and simply had on his breeches.

"We'll meet with the Chamberlain tomorrow, and set on our new clothes when he's done meeting with us, and be ready at the ball." Cyrdic said, more to himself than Camilla. He sometimes whispered things to himself in order to steel it within his head. His next words were for her, though. "Do you remember when we were in the tunnels beneath the Middle Mountains?" he asked.

He stared into the fire. "I woke up to boiling jerky. Somehow you'd...well." He shook his head, glancing over his shoulder. He didn't know what he was saying. "You'd been caught by beasts I didn't think were real. But you got me out of there as efficiently as you'd gotten us into it." Cyrdic smiled, remembering her acrobatics and swift thinking. He was going to say more, but he couldn't, lest he'd speak too much of his thoughts. "

"You're a hell of a girl, Camilla." he said. "We'll get through tomorrow."
@Penny