[IC] Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

[Penny]

Camilla awoke drowsilly, half remembered dreams still buzzing at the back of her mind. She had been a child again in Tilea, only this time she had been deemed to ugly to be trained as a courtesan. In the twisted logic of dreams she had known that the only comfort she was likely to find was being taken away from her. The detail faded as wakefulness returned. She felt dirty and rumpled, she shouldn't have fallen asleep in her clothes. One of her bracelets had cut of the circulation to her hand as she lay upon and she shook it to banish the feeling.

"Murrmph," she said sleepily, eyeing the note Cydric held with some disapproval. Even from here she could see the flowing hand writing that proclaimed it an official document. She sat up in the bed, propping herself up on her elbows. Her stomach growled, informing her that it was well after breakfast time.

"Well, what does it say?" she asked, sliding out of bed and walking over to Cydric, laying a hand on his shoulder she read.

Herr Woflhousen and Frauline Du Couronne

You are henceforth commanded to presnt yourself to his Excellency Boris Toddbringer, Elector Count of Middenland, Knight of Ulric ect ect at the earliest possible convience. Failure to do so will be looked upon with extreme disfavor.

Your's Cordially,
Helmut Eckerman
Lord Chamberlain

"We can't present ourselves looking like this!" Camilla exclaimed, stifling a groan. Her clothes were in ruin, she hadn't yet bathed and Cydric didn't even have a shirt to wear. They couldn't go in front of the Count like this, but neither did she have any desire to discover what Boris Toddbringer's conception of 'extreme disfavor' might be. It wasn't the sort of missive she would have expected but she put that down to the new Chamberlain's hurried elevation. She tapped her finger to her lips for a moment and then gave Cydric a playful swat to the rump, making the Ostlander jump.

"Come on, we have to get ready, I have an idea." She lead Cydric, still shirtless out into the corridor and siezed the first servant she say. The woman a young serving girl looked shocked at the state of them but she didn't give the girl time to get her bearings.

"You will take us to the Lady Jisele's chamber. Now."

A few minutes later they stood in the siting room of a suite much more sumptuous than their own borrowed quaters. Jisele and her two maids were sitting down to a light breakfast of toast and fruit.

"You look horrid!" the girl blurted with the sensitivity of a child. Camilla nodded sagely.

"Worse we have been commanded to appear before your uncle immediately and our clothes are back at our inn," Camilla explained. Jisele nodded, considering as she chewed a fig. Nodding decisively she pointed at one of the guards at her door.

"You, give Herr Reiner your shirt," she commanded, the soldier hesitated for a moment and then began to strip out of his woolen shirt uncertainly.

"I dont think any of my dresses will fit you Vivvienne," the girl confessed, trying to puzzle out a solution.

"Do you have a seamstress?" Camilla asked, looking from servant to servant.

Fifteen minutes later Camilla emerged from Jisele's bedroom. Her dress was the same one she had worn yesterday but she had cut the sleeves away and had the maid, Hildergard or some such ungodly Imperial name, stitch the seams back in so it appeared to a casual observer to have been designed that way. A length of silk, originally bunting in the girls bechamber ran from shoulder to waist concealing the worst of the blood stains. She had splashed herself clean in Jisele's wash basin while the made had worked and prevailed upon her for the loan of her sober sensible shoes. They were too big, but if she was careful she didn't look too ridiculous.

"Alright, we are in your debt for your help Lady Jisele," Camilla said with a formal curtsey which caused the girl to giggle.

Turning to Cydric she said:

"Alright, lets go meet the count."

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic was much more concerned with what the Graf could mean when he wanted them to present themselves. The powerful young man tilting his head, examined the note further and went lost in his thoughts on what it could mean. Until he felt his rump being slapped and he jumped. "Hey..." he joked, and as per usual, Camilla had dragged him into getting himself presentable again.

He guessed he should have felt more naked from the start, but he strode out into the halls and into Jiselle's chambers without a shirt as if it was normal, though the open mouthed stares from some of the servants did make him a bit reserved about it after a minute. Soon, they were more or less up to standard. Cyrdic didn't think the Graf would care, considering the circumstances, but he wasn't about to argue with Camilla when it came to courtly etiquette. It was her expertise, not his.

Cyrdic brushed a bit of her black hair out of Camilla's eyes, and nodded. He gave her a wink. "Let's go."

He didn't know what to expect when he and Camilla entered the throne room. But what the reality turned out to be was far from what he ever hoped for. Because as they stepped into the throne room chamber, they were met with Boris Todbringer upon his throne, and the Ostlander Count, along with his retinue standing to the right of the chamber. Immediately, Cyrdic stiffed and pulled Camilla behind him. He felt a chill run down his spine at what these implications were.

"Ah, herr Reiner and Misstress Vivvienne," The Ostland Baron said mockingly. "How rude of us to summon you in this early hour. Perhaps you'd like to enjoy some more of the good Graf's hospitality while we wait-"

"That's quite enough," the Graf said, his eyes smoldering. With a gravity and weight only Boris Todbringer could pull off, he stepped down from his throne and approached the two companions.

"These Ostlanders were welcomed here in the early hour of the Morn, and they gave me a tale that I did not quite believe..." He turned to Camilla and Cyrdic. "What are your names?"

"Cyrdic and Camilla." Cyrdic answered, knowing that to lie now would be folly.

"I thought as much. I did have a servant or two tell me you screamed one another's name during the ratmen attack, but I dismissed it. Perhaps it was a surname or a middle name. I see it was not." he said, and glared at them. "Now, tell me. Did you murder this Baron's son."

"No-" Cyrdic began. "Liar!" the Baron cried. His puffed grey streaked beard bristled with outrage. "We've tracked you a hundred leagues. I'll not sit here and hear these lies again!"

"Shut your mouth or we'll haul you out of Middenheim," Boris said, not even bothering to look at the Baron. He simply stared at Cyrdic and Camilla. "Go on."

"I saw the Baron's son Otto die during an Orc attack. I was there with him. Otto...had desires for Camilla. His mother did not approve, I suspect. But the blame fell on her," Cyrdic glanced at her, and then looked back to Boris. "They were going to kill her, and I was under investigation for aid in the murder." Cyrdic shook his head. "If they want to demote me, or take me away in chains, so be it, as long as my trial was fair. But Camilla did nothing wrong. They were going to kill her outright. So... I knocked out the guards that watched her, and ushered her away. I couldn't stand by and watch it. I don't know what possessed me sir. I've followed orders, and given them all my life. I guess...how are we better than the marauders, if we do not act upon right and wrong?"

The Graf stared at Cyrdic long and hard, boring into him with his steely eyes. Many moments later, his voice carried the weight of law. "I believe him."

The Ostland Baron and his men brandished swords, roaring in outrage. The Swords of Ulric in the room unsheathed their weapons as well. Boris held up his hands and waved them down. "He and lady Vi- Camilla are my guests, and they have saved my family twice. I cannot in good faith, give them over to you." he said. However, their accused crimes were not performed here, and so I cannot claim them as my own citizens either. What is a Graf to do?"

He held his hands out, though the look in his eyes showed he knew just what to say next. "An honor duel, if both parties consent."
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla didn't panic the way she sometimes did in battle. Perhaps it was the familiar setting, or perhaps she was simply too tired. She watched the byplay silently, her eyes measuring her chances of making a break for the door and informing her that unless the guards were suddenly paralyzed there was little chance of it. The mention of a duel went off like a howitzer shell. Men and women leaped to their feet, yelling in outrage or defense of the procedure. Todbringer turned and stared levelly at the court and silence fell rapidly save for the spluttering Baron.

"This is an outrage! A duel of honor is reserved for the nobility! It isn't legal!" he roared, his voice moderating slightly as he realised he was now the lone voice in what had been a rancourous hall.

"As it happens," Todbringer said calmly, "I had my Chamberlain draw up an honorary writ of nobillity for these two last night." A murmer went around the court at that.

"Admittedly, it turns out that I mispelled their names rather badly," he went on, his voice carrying the slightest hint of amusement. A slight laugh could be heard from the more quick witted courtiers.

"This is preposterous! This cannot be legal!" the Baron spluttered, his face literally reddening with anger. Camilla willed him to apoplexy, but regrettably it did not occur.

"Enough Sir!" Todbringer snapped, roused to anger at last, "Are you to instruct me as to what is legal in my domain?" The Baron was no fool and he calmed himself quickly, if not completely.

"But he is a common soldier and she was Otto's foreign whore!"

The Count of Middenhiem stalked back to his throne, though he didn't sit.

"You will find, Herr Baron, that we here in Middenland have more respect for 'common soldiers' than you seem to, and to slander a Lady in such a manner... for shame sir." Camilla opted not to correct the Count's apparent misapprehension for the moment. Women who looked like her were much more frequently the mistresses of nobles than nobility themselves, Todbringer probably knew the remark was more true than false and she appreciated the small attempt to defend her honor.

"Herr Cydric, Lady Camilla, will you consent to the duel?" the Count asked, the look in his eye making it clear the question was a formality. Camilla wondered if they would be allowed to select champions but she nodded her agreement.

"Yes your Excellency," she responded. Todbringer nodded approvingly as Cydric echoed the sentiment.

"Well then Baron, either accept the challenge, or withdraw your accusation, because otherwise I will have no choice but to conduct a formal trial here in Middienheim, which I can assure you I will preside over and render verdict." That was a guarantee of acquittal which the Baron couldn't openly contest, although it might not stop him sending assassins after them in the future.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

The Baron accepted, and his best accompanied sword volunteered to join him in the duel. Events had taken place Cyrdic had never thought possible. Perhaps Ulric and Sigmar truly did watch over him. Not that a duel was being out of the fire yet. They still had to win, and Cyrdic recognized the Baron's best sword as Hans Vildenwort. Cyrdic had once seen the man best a Chosen of Chaos with his greatsword. What's more, the Baron was to fight. And while old, he had been trained in sword use, and would be wielding his Runefang.

Cyrdic called for servants to fetch his shield, as well as his Broadsword. If he was going to fight a battle of the past, he would wield the weapons of his past. Once they fell in his hands again, it felt good to feel their weight. The new Ulric sword Fjorlhaf was well made, and he had gotten used to it. But he'd use his basket hilted broadsword he'd used on campaign. With a few practice swings and shield hefts and maneuvers, he was ready.

Cyrdic pulled Camilla close to him, and whispered "Guard my flank and attack theirs. I'll hold their attention," he said with. It would be just like usual. He felt they had gotten quite good at fighting together.

With that, the Graf stood at the center of the room as the four fighters squared up, weapons at the ready. The Baron smoldered with anger, and though Hans would follow him, he gave a nod to Cyrdic. They'd fought together in the north after all, and both knew this was truly nothing personal. Cyrdic returned the gesture, saluting with his sword.

"Until one party yields, the duel shall continue." the Graf announced. "Let Ulric guide with his judgement. Begin."

"For Ostland!" Hans cried, greatsword leading as he charged. Cyrdic roared and met him in the center, doing his best to redirect his greatsword's path with own broadsword. To a weaker man, it would have been an impossible move, but he barely pulled it off, just long enough for his shield to knock aside the Baron's runefang, effectively blocking both men, though the Dwarf-forged blade cut a line atop Cyrdic's Norscan boss shield. He backstepped and riposted, but his broadsword was blocked by a deft flick from Hans.
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla wasn't two sanguine about their chances of defeating two warriors who probably had more combat experience between them than she and Cydric had years of life. Still it was clear that there was little choice, and things could be worse. Camilla had heard from duelists she had known, and there were many who haunted the courts of Tilea, that two men would tangle each other as much as aid each other in a duel. No doubt both of these men had spent time in military formations, but that wasn't the same thing.

While the servants went for Cydric's broadsword she made her own preperations. Drawing her dagger she cut her silk dress at mid thigh. Eliciting laughs and not a few whistles from the assembled crowd. The Graf pursed his lips, perhaps to offer her a chance to change but clearly thought better of it. There was no way she could fight in the flowing dress though and she wasn't going to die, or let Cydric die due to a petty vanity.

Cydric pulled her close and whispered his instructions and she cursed herself as they parted for not having said something more meaningful but then the duel began and both their opponents were lunging for the Ostlander. It was immediately clear that both men disregarded her as the weaker of the two fighters. That was a mistake, she was weaker than Cydric certainly, but weak didn't mean non-existant. She lunged in at the Baron, aiming the point of her rapier at his calf. The man twisted but too late to avoid the stinging cut across his leg. It wouldn't kill him, but by Ranald he would take her seriously.

There were treatises on dueling in Tilea, there were treatises on everything that might sell a book to a wealthy noble, and Camilla had read many of them in the long hours when her more active services were not required. She tried to think of this duel as those books suggested, as a battle not just of sword, but of hearts.

The Baron was a wealthy important noble. He wasn't going to risk himself for the sake of winning the duel. The greatsword was his sworn bodyguard and thus was probably more concerned with the Baron's safety than killing Cydric. Therein lay her chance. She didn't need to actually injure or kill the Baron, which was good, because either the Runefang of the greatsword might shatter her rapier with the ease of a child snapping a twig if she mistimed a parry, all she needed to do was threaten him.

With her blade extended and her dagger held in the Pavonna style, she circled right, slow cautious fencers steps bringing her onto the Baron's flank.

"Back," the Greatsword snapped, realizing the danger a moment before she could have struck. Both men backed off from Cydric giving the Ostlander some space. After a moment they tried to launch their concerted attack again but this time she was already moving. Again she circled right forcing them to withdraw before they could press her friend.

Camilla smiled winsomely at the frustrated pair.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

The Baron gritted his teeth in frustration. He was a bit too angry to think entirely straight, though that did not mean he wasn't dangerous and skilled in his own way. He glared daggers at Camilla, and Cyrdic backed his companion up a bit as the two groups tried to gauge a weakness in the other, or perhaps they were each suspicious the other group would charge.

"Go after the Baron," Cyrdic breathed, his voice so low he almost didn't hear it. It was true the Baron hated both of them, but he was mostly angry at Camilla for the misguided sake of his son. Cyrdic also knew Hans fighting style, at least somewhat. He wasn't sure if he could beat the Greatsword, but perhaps he could hold him off...

"Go," he growled, and suddenly Cyrdic charged, drawing their attentions with a cry to Sigmar and Ulric. Furiously he stabbed forward, and then backpedaled, blocking with his shield and hacking away weapons with his sword. Soon it was just he and Hans, neither able to gain an edge over the other as the two dueled.

As the battle commenced, Cyrdic had managed to circle himself around within striking distance of the Baron. Not with his sword, but Hans saw too late Cyrdic's proximity to his liege and Cyrdic knocked the man with his shield, stumbling him.
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla tried to center herself, realising that she had successfully drawn the Baron away from Cydric, but at the cost of having to face the skilled swordsman herself. The heavy runefang glittered ominously and she was acutely aware that it’s blade could shear or shatter her slender weapon if she tried to block rather than parry.

There was nothing to be gained by delaying, the more she could threaten the Baron the more the Greatsword would have to think about. Sword razed in an elegant Seconde guard she stepped forward cutting the blade right in a feint before pivoting into a lightning quick riverso forcing the Baron to retreat. She kept circling, trying to back the Baron up in such a way as to foul his partner. The old warrior was having none of it, launching a vicious series chopping attacks, never quite over-extending. Camilla swept them aside with a series of intricate azioni volanti of which would have made her instructors proud.

The crowd gasped as the two very different duels developed. Camilla and the Baron fenced back and forth steel ringing on steel in a lethal dance. The Baron was stronger by far but Camilla was faster and her footwork perfect, she fought like a dancer moving through elegant steps and weaving her slender blade around her like a veil. Whenever the Baron overcommitted she took the offensive with lightning fast thrusts pushing the older warrior hard, making his heavy weapon work against him. It was a blinding display of swordsmanship and advantage swayed from one combatant to the other by the moment.

Cydric’s duel by contrast emphasized strength over speed. The Greatsword was remarkable fast for the size of his blade. The great weapon chewing great chunks from Cydric’s shield, hammering painful blows down Cydric’s arm. The Ostlander was holding his own, using his shield to parry and then exploiting the opening with his broadsword. The weapon wasn’t light but it was much faster than the heavy greatsword and Cydric was able to launch two or three blows for each one he received.

When Cydric struck the Baron Camilla took her chance, leaping forward she aimed her sword point low at the Baron’s upper thigh. In the back of her mind she hoped she wasn’t about to kill one of the most Important men in the Empire. It turned out she needn’t have worried. The Baron dropped his Runefang and caught her by the wrist. His fingers had the strength of iron nails and she gasped in pain. Panicked she bought her dagger around in a glittering arc. Grinning the Baron caught her other wrist and a sudden hush fell over the crowd.

“Yield!” the Baron snarled, turning his head in Cydric’s direction. Camilla struggled might just as well not have bothered. If Cydric did yield the two of them would be at the headsman’s block by nightfall. Todbringer would see to that as infallibly as sunrise. There had to be something she could do!

“Yiel..” the Baron began to demand again. Before he could finish Camilla did something that didn’t appear in any Tilean dueling manual. She tucked her chin in and drove her head forward into the Baron’s face in a classic headbutt. It was a trick that Cedric had shown her. It hurt more than she thought it would but whatever she felt it was worse for the Baron. His mouth snapped shut on his tongue and he reeled back, groaning in pain. He kept his grip on her and she drove her knee into his crotch, a second maneuver that was well outside the formal strictures of a duel. The Baron staggered back, his face bloody and contorted in pain.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

"Camilla," he breathed, stopping midstroke when he heard the Baron's proclamation. It nearly lost him his head, and it did earn him another scar across his cheek when he ducked the Greatsword at the last moment. But the squawk from the Baron after his next declaration brought a grim smile to Cyrdic. He knew he could count on her.

It was Hans turn to be surprised, shouting at the Baron and running to his aid. He caught the next swipe of Cyrdic's broadsword, but the big man's shoulder rush knocked him off of his feet. He hit the ground, and Cyrdic pommeled the Baron across the crown of his head, further staggering the man and sending him down onto the court floor. Cyrdic spun, and placed his broadsword's blade at the Greatsword's neck, holding it there.

"I'm sorry," Cyrdic said to his old comrade. Hans breathed heavily, and nodded to his fellow soldier. "I yield if the Baron does." he said.

"Neve-!" the Baron cried, until he felt a dagger to his throat from Camilla. Cyrdic spoke next. "Killing is not against the rules Baron. Would you rather your life, or your anger?"

It took him a long moment, but in the end, the Baron signaled his yield. It was awkward for the Baron to get up, admitting no help from Camilla. Cyrdic gripped Han's shoulder and helped him to his feet. The two smiled and began to discuss battle banter at how one had nearly slain the other, and vice versa. In truth, Cyrdic had been on the defensive most of the fight.

Hans followed the Baron away, and their retinue were dismissed, but allowed refuge in the city as they rested. The Graf stood up from his throne, and stepped down onto the court floor once more. Cyrdic staggered over to Camilla, dropping his sword and shield and checking to see if she was alright, freely bleeding from his cheek himself.
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla embraced Cydric warmly raising cheers from the crowd. Most who were present had no love for their Ostlander counterparts and it was clear that their own Count was partial to the two adventurers. Her body trembled with adrenaline and her head still rung from the headbutt, how did men make it look so easy? Her sword suddenly felt like it was made of lead and she had to fumble several times to slide the weapon back into the sapphire encrusted scabbard. She ran her fingers over Cydric's wounds, grateful to find that none of them seemed too severe.

"Cydric, Camilla," Todbringer said his voice low as he approached them.

"What are your family names?" Camilla told him and he steped back a pace, rasing his voice so that all in the hall could hear.

"Let it be recorded that Cydric Becker and Camilla de la Trantio, have fought for their innocence under the sight of Ulric and have prevailed. Therefore let no one impune their honor or doubt the verdict of the God of War and Winter!" The crowd clapped and cheered and the Todbringer laid a meaty hand on each of their shoulders.

"I am glad that you have been vindicated, it would have been a sore thing to have had to execute you after all you have done for me and my family," he said gravely.

"For us as well your Excellency," Camilla said, her lip quirking slightly. Boris Todbringer Count of Middenland through back his head and laughed uproariously at that.

"Take your ease here while you will and when you decide to leave know that you do so with the friendship of Middenheim," he went on before dropping his voice for only the two of them to hear.

"Though I wouldn't count on the Friendship of Ostland if I were in your shoes."

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic gave a bow to Boris Todbringer, and saluted his Ostland kin. While he was technically free now, he would never announce his return to Ostland if he ever did return. Though he wasn't against the idea, at some point. There were many places the Count did not view at all times, and Cyrdic believed he might still have a living father there, somewhere.

He smiled despite the sting of her smoothing her hand over his wound. "You know, I think the Corsair look works for you." he joked, his grin sly and wide. "I knew we'd win. We'd gone through too much not to."

"And what is it you two shall do now?" Boris asked, his voice a bit more on a personal level. He seemed curious, and Cyrdic slipped his arm around Camilla's waist, turning to Boris. "Well...do you know of anyone who needs a couple of sellswords?"

"I offer you a noble title and you choose to keep fighting?" he asked, and Cyrdic nodded. Boris smiled. "I like you two more and more. Worry not, you'll be welcome back in Middenheim whenever you see fit, and the title and estate is on the table. As for a job, there are a few Reiklanders transporting some goods to Altdorf that need all of the men they can get. The Drakwald's dangerous this time of year, though nothing you cannot handle I'm sure."

Cyrdic turned to Camilla. Even fighting in Nosrcan territory, Cyrdic respected just how dangerous the Drakwald was. But he wasn't about to back down. "Sound good to you?"
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla nodded eagerly. Her knowledge of the Drakwald was vague at best but anything seemed better than waiting around Middenheim for the Ostlander's to practice a little extra judicial murder. She reached down and twined her fingers with Cydric's.

"Sounds good to me," she said emphatically, squeezing Cydric's hand as she did so.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
End of Part Two
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Interlude

Dear Hector

I hope this missive finds you well. I was very heartened by your kind words regarding my work Recollections on the Tripartite Heresy and its Suppression, I am afraid such praise is scant for problems within the Church are rarely a popular topic even once the crisis is past. I hope that my memories of those harrowing days might be helpful to others who take up the heavy yoke of Sigmar's service as we too have. Sigmar alone knows where I would be without the works of Priests and Templar's of days past.

With regard to your questions regarding Cydric Becker and Camilla De La Trantio I shall, of course, do my best to satisfy your curiosity. Firstly let me categorically state that Cydric both then, and throughout our later interactions was a devout Sigmarite. I was present during the famous duel in Middenheim which has been so mythologized. Cydric did not call out to Ulric to smite the followers of Sigmar, he did not turn into a giant wolf, nor any of the more outlandish claims which have become attached to that meeting. Some of the stories no doubt grew out of the spectacle of an Elector involved in, and losing a duel, but there appears to have been a great deal of mythmaking on the part of Ulrician zealouts, looking to make Cydric into a hero for their own political purposes. He was and is, to my knowledge, a conventionally religious man of the Empire with a proper reverence for all its deities. As I have made clear in the Recollections his services have at times been extremely useful to Sigmar and his church.

With regards to Camilla I can be less certain. Despite our on again off again associations she remains something of an enigma to me. I have never met a more accomplished liar than Camilla De La Trantio, I do not mean to imply that she is a fundementally dishonest person, but when she chooses to decieve she is more capable than any I have ever enountered. Camilla dosent just lie with her words, but with gestuers, her eyes, even her tone. It is fortunate I think that she encountered Cydric as early in her career as she did, or I have no doubt she would have gone down in the histories as one of the greatest con artists of the age. The incident in Middenheim does mark the beginning of her repeated claims to various imaginative and often fictitious titles, including a Kislivite Princess, a Brettonian Countess and on a memorable occasion the Queen of Sartosa. It is appropriate that history has settled upon her the sobriquet of The Duchess.

Their involvement in the events of my history is sporadic but the certainly seem to have the good fortune, or perhaps misfortune from their perspective, to have arrived at several critical points. I was always glad of their presence and made use of their skills as best I might. Though they move in a grubbier world than perhaps we might like I have always felt them to be on the side of Sigmar.

If you should encounter them I implore you to show them friendship on my behalf and should you have any need of such people, employ them without hesitation. I fear there are dark days ahead and we will need all the swords we can find, even if those swords come at a negotiable rate.

Sigmar Bless and Guide you,
Matis Von Koneinswald - Templar of Sigmar

Letter to the Blessed Lector of Sigmar, Hector Morganstern

[POOHEAD189]

Chapter 4: The Drakwald

It was an old forest path used years ago before the roads had been well maintained and guarded for commercial use, but it was still well trodden. The forest had cleared from continual use of marching feet, leaving nothing but a dirt trail wide enough for a wagon, or 5 men walking abreast. All around them the Drakwald loomed around them. Trees as thick as Dwarves and tall as giants towered in the sky, an ominous mist licking the trunks and teasing the vision of the contingent of men now making their way down the path.

"Keep moving!" Cyrdic ordered, giving a Reikland swordsman a hard look and a rough push. The man immediately perked up and stepped with more assurance. Perhaps Cyrdic had offered his and Camilla's services too soon. For the contingent of troops had been leaving that day, and they had to hurry with their belongings. It was now three days travel in the Drakwald, and Cyrdic had swiftly gone back to his old ways as a Sergant.

Usually he would blame the caravan guard for being lax, but this mist had everyone's spirits down this day. There was something about the forest that was thick and dark. Almost suffocating. That wasn't an excuse for the men however, and if they expected a kind word from him then they could kiss his ass.

There were 30 swordsmen, 20 Halberdiers, 20 riflemen, and over a score of various Mercs scattered throughout the Caravan. Why they needed this many troops, even in the Drakwald, was beyond Cyrdic. It was merely a shipment of iron and gunpowder bound for Altdor, for what he'd been told. The three wagons at the center bumped along the unpaved forest floor, mules letting out groans and snorts. The sound made all the men on edge, for everywhere else the silence was deafening. As eerie as the forest was, he knew trees couldn't drive a sword in his gut. They were in the heart of the empire after all. The man sighed, and knew he was just trying to convince himself. The Drakwald was famously dangerous.

He caught a glimpse of who was leading the front next to Captain Hollman. A towering Warrior Priest of Sigmar strode confidently, his armor thick and his faith as loud as his laugh. Close cropped hair and a powerful chin gave him an easily recognizable face of authority. It was a contrast to the Captain, who looked as slim as a blade.

[POOHEAD189]

@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla sat atop one of the wagon near Cydric, stifling a curse each time the wagon struck a rut or a hole in the trail. As far as Camilla could tell it was mostly ruts and holes, certainly that was the message her rump wished to convey. Despite her early optimism she had misgivings about the whole adventure from the beginning. Leaving Middenheim had been a relief and the fact that she could use her own name even more so. It felt like her mouth was half cramped from trying to sound like a Brettonian for so long and it was a joy to let her Tilean accent slip back into her speech. They had been farewelled by the Witch Hunter Von Koneinswald, who had cogratulated them on their victory and provided them with a letter that recommended other followers of Sigmar help them if they could. He had cautioned however that while all Templar's are brothers, not all brothers see eye to eye, which seemed cryptic and not particularly helpful.

The rest of the patrol were also a problem, at least for her. The men invariably looked upon her like a particularly tasty rabbit which had fallen into their laps, the gaunt Captain viewed her as a dangerous distraction and the Warrior Priest seemed to look on her as somewhere between an ill omen from the Gods and a temptation to the men. Suffice to say she rode on the wagon and stayed out of the way as best she could.

Cydric at least seemed to be in his element, she wished there had been more time to talk before they left Middenheim but there had hardly been time to snatch up their possessions and rush down the mountain to join the convoy. She had taken the time to re wrap her sword and change into her travelling clothes. The leather vest, white shirt and comfortable boots a relief after that damned dress. She had tucked there jewels and coins away as best she could in various seams and pockets.

Still it might not have been such an unpleasant ride if not for the mist. It soaked everything with just enough water to dampen it. Fires were hard to start for cooking and clothing was impossible to get dry. Worse it seemed to quiet the forest to an unnatural degree, like a blanket or a shroud. Camilla was no woodsman but even she found the lack of birdsong and forest animals to be oppressive.

"Halt!" the captain called from the front of the column and with a rattle of axles and a clatter of weapons and armor the column stumbled to a halt. It was time for the midday meal, although how anyone could tell that was beyond Camilla. Gracefully she slipped from the wagon and headed across to Cydric, ignoring the soldiers following eyes as best she could.

"Eerie," she remarked, peering out into the forest. She was glad they had collected enough firewood the previous day and wouldn't have to range out into the curtain of mist.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic let out a breath, doing his best to relax himself. He certainly was in his element, but he told himself he shouldn't get too used to the idea. He and Camilla would only be here for another week, and then...he didn't know. He had never been to Altdorf, truth be told. His father had told him of the city, and he had read of it, but nothing else.

He placed his hands on his hips, ordering the men to relax for a bit and eat as Camilla walked up. He gave her a nod of agreement. "The Drakwald is more dangerous than the forest we fled through over a month ago," he told her. His eyes, grey as iron, met hers. He'd wished he and Camilla had some time to spend together before the troops had fled. He felt a jumble of emotions sometimes when he looked at her, as if something wasn't finished yet. The one time he'd professed feelings for her, they'd both been tired out of their minds. Not for the first time did he feel inadequate compared to the kind of person she could be with, but as usual, he shook the feelings and worries away stubbornly.

This was the Drakwald, and it wouldn't do to daydream or ponder. "Just stick close to me. Or better yet, I'll stick close to the wagon." He said, giving her a reassuring grin.

"Excuse me," Captain Holman said, approaching from the troops to stand before Camilla and Cyrdic. Beside him was a man even skinnier than he, and much shorter. He had on odd looking spectacles, and Cyrdic wondered why they had brought such a man along this dangerous journey.

"Yes, Captain?" Cyrdic asked.

"I'd like you to take special watch over herr Olden here. He has something very special to present to the engineering school at Altdorf, and his survival is of paramount importance." Holman said, and merely waited for Cyrdic to accept before he shoved the short man toward both Cyrdic and Camilla.
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla frowned in surprise as the Captain departed, her eyes falling on the skeletal Olden. He not a prepossessing man, although he was younger than his dress and mannerisms would suggest. Camilla would have guessed he was in his forth decade although without the signs of hard living which usually accompanied such an age. He squinted even through his glasses and Camilla had to suspect that he was fearfully near sighted. He wore a rumpled suit, the cuffs of which were spotted with ink and other less identifiable stains and he wore a silver signet ring of a design she didn't recognize. He squinted up at her through his watery blue eyes and Camilla started with embarrassment.

"Herr Olden, a pleasure to meet you," she said bowing very slightly to the fellow.

"I am Camilla De La...," she began but Olden interupted her.

"Your the young woman who kicked the Count of Ostland in the balls," he said his mouth splitting into a smile.

"Or so the story goes... although the stories also claim that you are the Duchess of Pavona travelling incognito." He hunched his shoulders and looked around in a conspiratorial fashion. Camilla fought down a blush of embarassment. She didn't particularly want to be known as the woman who kicked the Baron in the crotch.

"Do you believe the stories?" she asked, arching a dark eyebrow. Olden snorted derisively.

"You are lovely my dear lady and graceful as any princess but considering the Pavonese are fierce Republican's and through the last Duchess from a tower window three hundred years ago I rather doubt it. Plus the fact that your last name literally means Camilla From Tratio makes such rumors extremely unlikely." Camilla was impressed it was rare to find someone both educated in Tilean history and fluent in the language this far north.

"And you my boy, Seargent Becker, I'll try not to be too much of a hassle, it really is most important that I and my special cargo reach Nuln without incident."

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic crossed his arms and listened to the exchange, actually a bit amused at the rumor surrounding the Ostland Baron. He'd heard a few tales of the two of them the past few days, but that certainly was a new one. He tilted his head, his ears twitching a bit as the two conversed. If Cyrdic didn't already know Camilla, he wouldn't have doubted the Duchess claim. She certainly carried herself like he'd imagine the ruler of a city would. And that wasn't a bad thing, honestly. It was pretty attractive, truth be told. It was then he wondered, had he ever heard of Pavona? Miragiliano yes, but...no he was certain he had. Oh well, it mattered little.

This little man had impressed Cyrdic as well, and he gripped his Ulrican sword hilt for emphasis when he next spoke. "Stay on the Wagon with Camilla. I'll be right next to both of you." He told herr Olden. The learned man gave an accepting nod, pleased that he could continue to speak to Camilla, as well as Cyrdic to learn more of their exploits. "Did you ever go to a university, herr Becker?" Olden asked.

Cyrdic snorted. "No. Why?"

"You speak less like a country man. Gruffly, certainly. But you've less slang, I suppose." Olden said. "I've an ear for these things." He explained, almost guiltily.

"I was forced to read in my younger years of serving the military. I got into trouble, and worked for the Quartermaster," Cyrdic said, smiling when recalling the memory.

"Ah, I see. Anywho, how long until we reach Altdorf?"

"It should be a week until Carroburg, and then another day before we reach the Capital proper." Cyrdic explained. "That is, unless we run into trouble."

"What would attack such a heavily armed retinue?"

---

Hours later...

The scream was faint, as if it was made just within the cusp of the horrible mist. It echoed off the trees, causing it to seem unreal, like from within some nightmare one had difficulty recalling. Cyrdic's eyes steeled, and men muttered in confusion as the young Sergeant stood vigil, trying to garner the source of the cry. He needn't have worried, for a very real crash was heard from behind, which caused the rough and ready soldier to spin. Men scrambled and one cried out in dismay, for something very heavy had hit one of the caravan's wagons.

"Out of the way!" Cyrdic ordered, shoving men to the side as he pushed through the throng to stand face to face with the mangled corpse of a swordsman, his unseeing eyes staring straight into Cyrdic's. He knew the man, what's more. Richter had been a fair soldier by all accounts. "What..." Cyrdic breathed, unable to comprehend the loss for what it was. His instincts kicked in as a defense mechanism almost instantly, and as he turned back towards the mist, he saw something he expected, but wasn't quite prepared for.

An enormous towering creature stood like a nightmarish statue at the edge of the treeline, a great Minotaur-like beastman with hate filled eyes. It's jaws were open, revealing serpent-like fangs and buckets of drool drizzling upon the ground. In its left hand it easily held a double headed axe that not even two men could haul effectively. A horrible lizard-like tongue slithered out of its maw and licked its muzzle, still crimson from the bite it took out of poor Richter.

Behind the bullheaded creature, silhouettes began to materialize within the mist, growing more solidified as they approached with a terrifying slowness. Some were not quite as large as the Minotaur, but were a head taller than the other men, clad in blackiron armor and hefting aloft ornate swords of hellmetal. Chosen warriors of Chaos. To look upon them was a daunting sight, much less the possibility of fighting them.

Between the plate armored warriors, other beastmen began to stream out of the forest's depths and ran hooting and howling towards the empire's caravan. Monsters with the heads of Elks, bears, wolves and goats. They each had various grotesque mutations that showed the stigma of chaos, and they held their crude but brutal weapons high as they charged.

"Form up!" the Captain yelled. One arrow sliced out of the mist and hit Captain Holmmann beneath the armpit, staggering him and causing him to cry out. "By the Hammer's mercy..." Cyrdic whispered, before he broke out of his reverie with all of the rage in his heart for such abominations to dare attack an Imperial caravan. "Shield up! Halberds Down!" He roared, unsheathing his sword. Men hustled to obey his orders. "Make ready! Arquebusers!" The riflemen got to their knees and hastened their loaded weapons. "On my mark!"

As the men formed up and began to make a plausible defense, a booming voice was heard from the very front of the line. "Sons of Sigmar!" the Warrior Priest called out, his huge hammer lifted high in one, powerful hand. "For. the. Empire!"
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla dreamed. It seemed there were few nights of late when she did not. In her mind she was walking the streets of some ancient city under a hot Tilean sun. She wasn't sure why but she knew the city didn't have long to live. Why this would be should could not say for its people were happy, calm and at peace. She wandered for a time and perceived she was moving in a spiral towards the center of the city where a vast statue stood. As she neared though she felt a hand fall on her shoulder and was afraid to turn to see who it might be. Of its own volition and with the terrible logic of dreams her head began to turn. And then the scream in the camp jolted her awake as effectively as if she had been doused in water.

Camilla tried to jump to her feet but knocked her head on top of the wagon she had been sleeping under. Cursing in Tilean she crawled forward. Olden was there, awake but cowering in indecision. She didn't blame him for that, the screams that rent the night were enough to freeze anyone's blood. She could hear Cydric shouting orders and her one impulse was to go to him at once. Hard thumping sounds rattled the wagon and a man dropped into view eyes wide with pain and terror an ugly black fletched arrow in his chest. The clash of steel on steel sounded shockingly loud nearby and she heard men grunting and struggling in the darkness. The fallen soldier was still screaming when a black rune covered blade descended into his chest and twisted viciously, silencing him forever. Camilla couldn't see the wielder but every instinct screamed at her to stay down. Metal clad legs took a few steps forward and she was about to let out a sigh of relief when they paused. There was an odd snuffling sound, like a hound except many sizes to large and the legs turned and began to lean down. A baroque metal helmet appeared beneath the edge of the wagon, it was fashioned out of some black metal and ornate rune work was intricately carved into it. The man's, if man was the right term, eyes glowed with a pinkish red fire and he, it?, had an odd smell about it. It was something like perfume that had sat to long in the vat, or had used too much ambergris.

"Woman," the voice purred somehow sensual and threatening at the same time. He reached an armored hand down and extended it towards Camilla fingers spread.

"Such wonders we have to show you..." Camilla shot the strange warrior in the hand with her pistol, the booming discharge impossibley loud in the space beneath the wagon. The figure reeled back, howling and roaring in pain as it clutched the stump of its ruined hand, metal fingers falling to the ground, their ends smoking as if lit from inside by some baleful fire. Camilla turned and scrambled away, crawling as fast as her hands and knees would carry her. Olden apparently had the same notion and was already out the other end of wagon. Behind her there came the crash of splintering would and a roar of rage as the warrior smashed the front of the wagon with his sword. Camilla had a heart stopping instant to imagine the powder on the wagon blowing her into an unrecognizable mist and then she was out from under the wagon, its gunpowder having declined to detonate for the moment.

The clearing in which they camped was in Chaos. She could hear men shouting but only in a confusing jumble. Tendrils of mist still snaked through the darkness and dying men lay around her. Here and there a beast man lay, spitted by sword or scythed down by bullets. One of the larger ones was tearing at its own entrails in a frenzy of berserk hunger. Camilla could have done without that image. Behind her she heard the Chaos warrior closing and took off after Olden, hoping the scholar knew where he was going. A beastman with the face of a fanged goat loomed out of the mist, stone axe raised and she whipped her rapier free and thrust into the things stomach twisting the blade and yanking it free in a smooth motion. Then it was lost in the mist and she and Olden emerged into a haze of powder smoke.

Ahead of them soldiers formed, halberds thrust out in a tight defensive ring, the men kneeling to allow the handgunners to fire over them. Camilla grabbed Olden and yanked him to the ground with a squawk of protest a moment before a rolling volley rang out and led shot hissed overhead like hail. The impacts could be heard even over the screams they raised. Camilla hauled Olden to his feet and ran at the spearmen, hoping that they would recognize her in time not to impale her on the glittering points of their weapons. A few strides before she reached the line something seized her by the back of her tunic an jerked her into the air. She screamed in terror and hate, thrashing uselessly with her rapier.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

"Camilla! Herr Olden!" Cyrdic cried, waving them toward the line he had formed. His voice strong but hoarse from the smoke of the surrounding weapons. Unnatural abominations were impaled upon the halberds that were laid down to halt their mass advance. Those that slipped by like snakes were engaged by the swordsmen. The melee was thick with screams and blood. Cyrdic hacked down a beastman, kicking its limp body to the ground. An axe spun out of the fray and embedded itself into the head of a rifleman, the impact and area of the hit caused the newly made corpse to spasm and send its weapon flying upwards.

It was at that moment Cyrdic saw the tendril of the Slaaneshi Chaos Warrior slither with unnatural speed, looping around Camilla's waist and yanking her backwards with the force of a cannon shot. Cyrdic's heart stopped, but in that split instant, he moved on sheer instinct.

Cyrdic struck his blade into the ground and caught the falling gunpowder weapon. He readied it and placed the butt of the weapon on its shoulder and fired into the helmet of the Chaos Warrior. It didn't kill it, as impossible as it sounded. But the shot through its eye weakened its hold on Camilla. Its grip loosened, and Camilla wiggled out of its grasp and met Cyrdic. He had run after her, and caught her in an embrace.

"We have to get the hell out of here," Cyrdic breathed in her ear. Behind him, the baying of the mules was desperate and loud. They were supremely trained to not have run off yet. He checked to see if she was wounded, and in his peripheral vision, he saw something huge looming, growing closer as it closed distance. "Get down!" He roared, pushing Camilla to the ground as he hit the dirt as well. A boulder slammed into the mud and earth just passed them, bouncing into the line of men and breaking its formation.

The beasts and Chaos champions howled, and in the distance Cyrdic heard the Warrior Priest of Sigmar challenge the leader of the Warband in single combat. A great, ever shifting eye was emblazoned on the Chosen's runic chest piece, and within his helmet glowed a purple fire of forever changing hues.

"Get to the wagon," Cyrdic ordered her, and behind them they heard a pitiful cry. Cyrdic blinked. He recognized the voice, and the Ostland soldier turned to see Herr Olden with his leg's crushed, having been hit by the bouncing rock. He blinked weakly, calling for Camilla to come to him.

When they came close, he would feebly reach into his coat pocket to produce a vial of what looked to be a rich silver substance. "M-My dear...See this makes it to...to Altdorf, or Nuln. T-he Countess shall receive it..."
@Penny

[Penny]

The scent of blood and worse than blood was thick on the air as she took the vial from Olden. She tucked it into her pouch, skin crawling from the slithering feel of the tentacle wrapped around her waist a few moments before. Olden's face contorted in pain and though he tried to speak only a whisper of air running over his teeth escaped. The scholar's face went very white and his eyes rolled into the back of his head, his body sagging to the dirt. Camilla couldn't tell if she was dead or in shock.

"Myrmidia protect fools whores and orphan's," Camilla breathed. Even as beast men and the horrifying chaos warriors poured into the mangled bloody breech where the remaining soldiers desperately tried to close their formation, other metal clad giants were whipping and beating beast men, the disgusting creatures shoving one of the power wagons towards the formation. As she watched one of the Chaos warriors conjured flame from no where, his hand engulfed in a pale blue fire which he set to the back of the wagon. The fire spread over the canvas cover as the wagon bounced and rolled into the formation. The beastmen pushed it until the last, unaware or uncaring of the lethal danger that threatened them.

Camilla picked herself up of the ground, purple after images dancing across her eyes and her ears ringing like all the bells in Miragliano were just over her shoulder. The actual moment that the powder wagon blew was lost to her mind, such was the force of it. Bits of dirt and wood and other less palatable things rained down in a slowing rain and there was nothing in the world but dust and the ringing in her ears. She stumbled forward finding Cydric on his knees. She pulled at him like a child trying to lift a boulder and after a moment he straightened. His lips moved but she couldn't quite make out the words.

"We have to get out of here!" she shouted at Cydric who blinked in confusion. He pointed towards what she assumed was where the men had been.

"We have to get out of here!" she shouted again and Cydric shook his head firmly. Speaking in slow exaggerated words she was able to read his lips.

"We have to get out of here." Dammit some part of her found that funny. She nodded her head vigorously and pulled at his arm but again he shook his head and pushed her towards the remaining wagon. Understanding filled her and she scrambled for the wagon, climbing into the seat and helping Cydric up. She picked up the reigns and lashed them. The jolt nearly tore her from the seat as the horses kicked off in a spray of dirt. Only shock from the concussion had kept them from bolting and at least one of them had blood running from its ears. The wagon caromed down the road and she hauled on the reigns to take them wide of the crater, one wheel hanging precariously over the edge for a moment and then they were passed. Several beast men appeared in the trail, looking stunned but Camilla couldn't have slowed if she wanted to. She winced at the crunching sensation of the things going under the wheels as the wagon tore off down the trail at speeds which would have been suicidal even on a paved road.

@POOHEAD189