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

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

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

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

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

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

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