[i]His powerful legs pumping, Cyrdic barreled forward like a locomotive and shoved the siege ladder off the walls, toppleing a dozen Beastmen backwards to howl screaming into their allies down below, crushing another dozen. The sky was bright red, and comets seared through it like a slicing dagger, as if their very presence ripped reality around them. The horde that was assaulting Wolfenburg was immense. A sea of Chaos Spawn, miles and miles long. 

With a snarl, Cyrdic twirled and caved in the skull of a Beastman. His weapon shifted in his hands. At times it was his broadsword, his Ulrican runic sword...he now wielded a hammer that he knew must have been Ghal Maraz. With a mighty stroke, he slammed the hammerhead into a Minotaur's chest, popping its ribcage open like a melon and sending it flying off the wall to die before it even hit the ground. Cyrdic turned again, and now wielded his broadsword, blocking the axe of a Khornate Berserker, kicking its legs out from under him and head butting the Chosen, splitting his face. He finished him with a stab to the chest, and shoved him off of his blade with his boot. 

His next opponent was- 

Cyrdic stopped, and lowered his sword. He saw Camilla, standing there, poised to stab at him. He cried out her name, but she wouldn't answer. Her eyes were glowing with an inner evil, and she grinned widely at him. He lifted his sword to defend himself, but couldn't strike her. He didn't know if he could. 

She lunged forward with her rapier, and his reluctance made him too slow to effectively parry, her blade sinking into his chest. He fell to his knees, but there was no pain. Only sorrow. She knelt down beside him, and gripped the chain around his mother had given him...[/i] 

Cyrdic started awake, having felt her hands on him. Like a cornered animal, he pressed his back to the solid wooden door and snarled like a Wolf, his bare chest rising and falling. It took him a moment to realize he was still within Camilla's dimly lit room, her face apologetic before she popped some of his beef jerky into her mouth. As she spoke, he placed a hand on his forehead to wipe away the sweat and lift up his matted hair. "You-...dreams?" he asked. He had too, he guessed, but he didn't feel comfortable speaking about it at the moment. "Do you not remember what happened earlier?" His voice was incredulous. He supposed that would be a good thing, right? "What was the dream?"

[hr] 

"Your failure was to be expected," The Tzeentch Champion replied, his hands behind his back as he stood before Gildenhoof and their followers of barbarians and beastmen. "The aura surrounding the man and the woman are troubling. But nothing I cannot handle." He put an emphasis on the word 'I' to show Gildenhoof how little he truly thought of the Slaneeshi Chosen. The lower champion glowered, but did not speak up. 

"The Castle itself," a coarse voice said. Velabrass turned to see the Khornate Champion Kron gripping his massive two headed axe. "We attack it with our full force?" 

"In a matter of hours, we will break the walls and slaughter them all. Yes," Velabrass said, and was accompanied by the moans and roars of the others. The Tzeentch Champion lifted his guantleted hand, indicating for the bray-slaves to run and grab the weapon that was still being infused with chaos energy. Moments later, the siege contraption was wheeled forth. The chaos cannon pulsated with energy. Veins along its warm metal gave it an organic quality, and indeed in a way it was alive. A screeching Daemon roiled within it, granting it unnatural power.
[@Penny]