The Balcony he was on was now covered in filth, but it looked to have been used by nobility when it had been in service. Various lengths of rope lifted into the darkness above, still hanging limply, swaying by the soft breezes that flowed from within the various cavern entrances.

"What in the Old World," Cyrdic breathed as he gazed downward, from above. He'd never read or seen a play by Detlef Sierck, but from what he'd heard, this fit the scene to one of his more foreboding works. Dozens of what he could only tell were Beastmen were scuttling to and fro, chittering what sounded like orders to his trained ears. Most of them seemed lightly clad with nothing but daggers and short swords, or crude spears for weapons. However there was roughly a dozen with partial plate armor, and wicked looking halberds. One rat had a contraption that Cyrdic had never seen before. The room they found themselves in was vast and looming, a true Greathall of Old. 

He saw Camilla thrust into a cage, and he stifled a groan. He was glad he'd found her, but the fearful side of him knew that there was no backing down now, seeing her alive. He didn't know why he was afraid, after all. These rat beastmen were smaller than he, and he'd fought Norscan berserkers not a year previous. He guessed it was the fact he was outnumbered and alone in the dark. [i]Yeah, no big deal.[/i]

Suddenly, two large reverberations split the scene, and the rats froze for an instant. One of the lesser doors from the Caverns suddenly burst open, rock flying out as Cyrdic saw a terrifying Troll enter the hall. Behind the Troll, smaller green figures cried out in what he could only guess was a warcry, and the room erupted in screeches and violence. 

The strange contraption the back rat had been setting up was now placed upon his body, a suit of armor encompassing his furry form. He aimed what looked to be a rifle, and multicolored liquid fire spewed out of its barrel to melt the flesh from five charging Goblins. 

On instinct, Cyrdic dropped his torch below. The falling brand struck a clanrat on the head, and it scrabbled the brand off, only for the Beast to be landed on by nearly two hundred pounds of Ostlander, having slid down one of the ropes. Cyrdic was only four paces from Camilla, but he was suddenly surrounded by a melee he had to give his full attention on. He aimed his pistol at the beast that held the firethrower, and discharged his firearm. 

The bullet struck its backpack, and the beast desperately tried to pry it off before it exploded in wildfire, immolating dozens of rats and Goblins. [i]Good, illuminated more of the room[/i], he thought pragmatically. Cyrdic had immediately holstered his pistol and unsheathed his broadsword, hacking back and forth, blocking with his shield to the best of his ability. Crude and jagged weapons scraped along his armor and shield. 

"Camilla!" He roared. 
[@Penny]