Cyrdic was glad Camilla had found a place for him to hide. His first instinct was to hide behind the door and then bash the back of their heads in with his sword hilt, and then tie them up. He supposed this was easier. He briefly thought Ricardo was going to get caught, but like a rodent he slid into some corner, and the two that entered conversed without pause or complaint. Cyrdic held himself completely still, one arm around Camilla.

Once the two were out, he stayed by the door to make sure he heard no more footsteps. Little did he know that his eyes needed to be elsewhere...

He whirled, sword leading when he heard the unfamiliar voice. When he saw who had been clapping, his breath caught. The voluptuous and enchanting woman lounged on the back chair, watching them. Even pushing herself up stirred something within Cyrdic, and he wondered how a person could be this beglamouring. He shook his head, trying to undo whatever effect was on him. Was it even an effect? He was a man but he wasn't usually this overcome with lust and admiration.

The woman's mocking laughter was haunting, her dress glimmering in the faint light of the room. She placed one pointer finger on the other, beginning to count down as she spoke.

"You remained unseen, you rappled across the rooftops. You moved gracefully and with an air of nobility I daresay." She said, her eyes falling on Camilla. "Very impressive. As are your companions. This one moves almost as well as you," she said, gesturing to Ricardo. The Tilean followed her hand as if it was a piece of meat to a starving man. She seemed bemused at his hungry gaze. "Though he's not quite the 'specimen' as the one in the back."

Her eyes bored into Cyrdic, and the Ostlander felt a hammerblow to his psyche as he tried to look away. But every sense in his body begged him to give into this one's will.

"What do you want?" Cyrdic asked, shaken.
@Penny

Camilla stood transfixed, her dagger still extended towards the woman. The blade seemed to weigh a hundred pounds and its point began to waver as the woman continued to speak.

"I want to talk Herr Becker," she said, as though that were the most normal thing in the world and he was somewhat churlish for him to rush her to her point.

"As I said the three of you have proven resourceful and brave," her eyes lingered on Cydric and Camilla fought to contain a gasp as she lowered her dagger. Relief flowed through her and she tucked the weapon back into the small leather sheath in her belt.

"This is a bit of an awkward time for discussions..." Camilla said finding some of her equilibrium returning. Her eyes followed the woman irresistibly as did the men. Ricardo reached out for a moment as though to touch her but didn't do so.

"You may call me Elspeth," the vision of beauty replied , "and yes, I don't imagine our hosts would react well if they discovered we had broken into their mansion." There was a touch of contempt in the woman's voice now.

"We?" Camilla asked, "You broke in as well?" Elspeth nodded graciously.

"Of course," she replied, obviously enjoying her effect on the trio. Her lips were very red and curved into a cupids bow smile.

"I'd like to know how you managed that," Camilla said her body tingling with some strange sensation as she spoke. The woman smiled that predatory smile again, somehow full of knowing and illicit promises.

"Perhaps I will be able to show you very soon," the woman purred. Camilla had to the strange feeling she was being sized up for something. Not sex, or at least not only sex, everything the woman seemed to do was sensual, but she couldn't imagine what it was.

"Why don't we leave this dreary place and I will take you to my estate were we can talk." Her fingers traced over Ricardo's shoulder as she spoke, tugging him as if by and invisible leash towards the floor. Ricardo who could have hit a bullseye with a throwing knife in the dark while drunk, knocked over the small lantern as he turned and oil spilled out onto the table, igniting the papers on the desk in moments.

"Oops," the woman said with an ironic smile.

@POOHEAD189

Cyrdic looked positively feral as his eyes locked with the woman, hackles risen and lips curled into a snarl. He felt a slight warmth from his sword, though not nearly as loud as it was with fighting Chaos spawn. Still, this woman has a quality about her that he found extremely unnerving, despite the obvious promise of pleasure she elicited with her every movement.

For her part, the woman seemed a tad impressed at Cyrdic, and she raised an eyebrow. Ricardo took his cloak from behind him, and billowed it above the flame before snuffing it out. "Figlio di puttana! Someone would have heard that." He hissed, swiping the cloth back and rolling it up.

"Well we better get a move on, shall we?" She said, running a finger up Ricardo's neck, the man groaning at her touch. She chuckled, and sauntered over to the window with a sway of her hips. It was a heavy thing, but she opened the sill as if it weighed nothing at all. She held it open for the others, and gestured they come through.

"No," Cyrdic said, the word coming from somewhere deep within himself. The woman tilted her head, and then shook it. "Oh, worry not my Imperial. If I sought to harm you, I would have done it as you traversed the rooftops before you entered this place. Now come, we have a comfortable place for you all to speak with me..."

Despite his wariness and better judgement, he gave in to her suggestive voice, seeing the logic in her words. The Ostlander relaxed, and sheathed his sword as Camilla and Ricardo exited the window atop a thatched roof, the enchanting woman promising they would not need to go far to relax once again.

So fixated on the effect she had on them, it seemed to take merely a moment before they entered into her extravagant lair...
@Penny

Camilla found her mind drifting during the escape. She knew, at an intellectual level that she shouldn't but it was hard to focus. This woman was certainly a friend and maybe more than a friend. Each time Elspeth looked at Cydric she felt a surge of jealously that threatened to sober her but the intense emotion cooled once the blond turned her attention back to Camilla.

She had a vague notion that they were in a coach and the next thing she knew they were sitting in an elaborate parlor. The place was decorated in shades of red and gold with occasional silver accents and had a subtle feeling of aged splendor. Handsome men, each handsome enough to give Ricardo a rival, stood in livery of red and gold. Many of them wore weapons but they seemed to Camilla to be more ceremonial than practical.

"Cydric," Camilla whispered as she watched the servants. There was no response, his eyes following the roll of Elspeth's hips as she laughed at some jest Ricardo had just made.

"Cydric," she repeated. Still no response. Camilla very deliberately and very firmly stomped on the Ostlander's foot. For a moment she thought that it hadn't been sufficient but then, several seconds after the blow, his eyes cleared and he turned to look at her.

"Cydric something is wrong, look at their eyes," she said with a gesture at the servants. Indeed, their eyes shone with an almost religious devotion, but they were empty too, somehow conveying that there was little behind them other than a blind desire to serve. Before he could respond Elspeth turned back to them and was gesturing them into plush chairs.

"To bussiness then," she said languidly, her smokey gaze promising there would be time for pleasure afterwards.

"You have come for the Scarrab, I confess my Mistress does possess it, but no force you could apply will recover it." The words were matter of fact but absolutely final.

"Still we are not unreasonable, I can provide you with gold and with... other things," her gaze drifted across the trio and Camilla felt the 'other things' was distinctly different for each of them.

@POOHEAD189

Cyrdic had decided to trust this woman, for no better reason than because she promised a way out of the compound. But that trust had led to his guard being let down, and with it his mental defenses. He openly stared at her as she entertained Ricardo, a lust stirring within him until he felt something annoying below his knees. It took another thump onto his shoe for him to feel the pain, and he winced. "Aahhh," he breathed, turning to look at Camilla.

Oddly enough, his baser instincts were still bare, and he blatantly looked Camilla up and down as well, drinking in the sight of her chest before blinking, his clouded eyes suddenly seeing clearer to understand the reason she stomped on his foot. "What?"

As Camilla explained, it dawned on him she was right. He felt more than foolish for having fallen for what he perceived to be an enchantment of some sort. Yes, there was no denying this woman was breathtakingly beautiful, but he admitted Camilla was as well, and he was in love with her. This wasn't infatuation or love that this woman was showing them, it was intoxication.

As they sat down at her behest, Cyrdic kept his gaze on the floor, or at least did his best not to make eye contact with the woman.

"Signorina Elspeth," Cyrdic heard Ricardo implore breathily. "I am under...incredible duress to recover the Scarab. If I do not..." His words were cut off by an amused chuckling. "Oh, Ricardo. Nothing you can say shall change my mind. However I am certain I can change yours." She purred. He let out an exasperated phrase in Tilean Cyrdic couldn't quite catch. It sounded even more longing than when he professed to be in awe of Camilla.

"Why would you pay us to keep us away from the Scarab?" Cyrdic asked her, and she turned to look at him, tilting her head. "Because, you and your friends seem useful. And I admit I am quite taken with your strong arms, if you seek to know my feelings of you."

"I do not," Cyrdic said, his mental strength bent solely on keeping his eyes away from her, though it was hard with her haunting voice.

"Oh, you wound me herr Cyrdic. But I am forgiving, and my offer still stands. As do many other pleasures I could provide," Her voice was husky. "But only if you deign to work for me. That does not sound so bad, does it?"

"No," he found himself saying.

Give in. Your world will be filled with joy and release. He shook the thoughts away, and he gripped his sword hilt. With the strength in it, he found he could look up at her and keep himself to himself...somewhat.
@Penny

Elspeth sat back with a satisfied smile on her face. She looked like a painting by some Tilean master, reclining on her chair and somehow holding court over all she surveyed.

"I know that you have given your word, to recover the scarab but it isn't the first time you have broken your word is it," she went on reasonably. Ricardo shook his head at first slowly and then more vigorously as he thought about the question.

"And you could certainly inform your patron of who stole the scarab and simply omit any mention of to whom he sold it could you not?" she crooned, caressing the words. Ricardo continued to nod like a composers metronome. Elspeth made a languid gesture and one of the servants moved gracefully to the table and sat down a silken bag upon the polished wood of the table. It clinked metallicaly and when Elsepth stirred the silk with a manicured hand gold coins slid forth onto the table top, shining brilliantly in the light of expensive wax candelabras.

"I will of course, compensate you for your forgetfulness, perhaps even off you sanctuary here with us... or..." she trailed off thoughtfully. Her eyes seemed to size up the handsome Tilean.

"Perhaps we could send you back to Riario... with the right support you might be the Count one of these days." She laughed as if such an undertaking were an easy thing, then straightened to her feet beckoning to Camilla with a long finger crooked in imperious command.

"You boys talk it over, I'd like to have a word with your lovely companion for a moment, in private just us girls." She flashed a stunning smile and Camilla couldn't bring herself to raise an objection as Elspeth led her back through a panneled door. The pounding in her chest increased with a sort of juvenile excitment that she couldn't remember having felt even as a girl as Elspeth led her to a large bed chamber on which brilliant white silk sheets were laid out. Elspeth sat down upon it and patted a hand for Camilla to join her.

"What is it that you wan't Camilla," the woman asked her, her head turned slowly so that her blue eyes locked with Camilla's at once icy and smoldering. Thoughts of Cydric and their adventures together flashed through her head in a disorganized cascade.

"Oh I think we can arrange for plenty of excitment in your life... you can even keep the Ostlander," Elspeth purred, her smooth hand rising to touch Camilla's cheek. It was shockingly cold, almost like the touch of marble.

"Would you like to stay young and beautiful forever?" Elspeth teased and she drew Camilla towards her slowly, pressing their lips together in a kiss.

"DO you want power to make the world the way you wish it?" Elspeth went on her lips almost feverish hot compared to her icy touch. Somehow without knowing how Camilla was kissing her, needing her more than anything, her old concerns seemed foolish things now. Clearly Elspeth would never hurt her. The woman was kissing her neck now and pushing her back onto the silken sheet, her raven hair fanning out behind her as Elspeth climbed atop her with a grace which Camilla herself would have struggled to match. THe other woman leaned close trailing kisses down the side of her face till her lips kissing Camilla's neck hungrily.

"This will only hurt for a moment," she crooned ,"And you shall be reborn."

@POOHEAD189

Cyrdic grit his teeth, glad he was gaining some ground on denying this woman. He didn't know if it was his Ostlander bullheadedness, his sword, or his love for Camilla battling the lust this woman brought. Probably a combination of all three, he realized. Still, he knew he needed to think crisply, and he couldn't do that as well as he would like if Elspeth was still in the same room as he. It was almost a relief when she said she wished to talk to Camilla, and led her into another room.

He let out a breath, and closed his eyes for a few moments to open them again and drink in the sight of a bemused and beglamoured Ricardo with what very much looked like a dagger poking from within his trousers. The lewd sight, as well as the soulless, or at least glazed over look of each servant's eyes stabbed through the haze of his mind. "Ricardo."

The man said nothing, simply gazing around as if this place was so full of wonder. Longing was in his eyes, and his body shifted as he waited anxiously for the woman Elspeth to return. Cyrdic spoke his name again more forcefully, and the man turned to him with a curiosity in his eyes. "Ah yes, we need to discuss what we're to do when I return to my master. I say we follow the lady Elspeth's recommendation, yes?"

Cyrdic should have known that was what Ricardo would say, but he had not. A dangerous realization crept within Cyrdic as he regarded the Tilean with the slightest tilt of his head. His jaw set hard. "Snap out of it, you idiot." Cyrdic began, before he felt something reverberating from within his sword. It wasn't a howl, however. It was a growl and a whimper, and something tugged at his heart that he knew what it had to be.

His anger at Ricardo had distracted him from the very real danger of Camilla being alone with this woman. This...

"Ulric, no." He breathed, cursing himself for letting Camilla be alone with this witch for any reason, even if it was to see more clearly. He knew she was in danger somehow, and a longing appeared in him just as strong, if not stronger, than this enchantress had placed upon him. But this was a base instinct further enhanced by his sword. Loyalty to a mate.

He was out of his chair and across the room within the span of a heartbeat. One handsome gentlemen stood at the door to guard, a rapier in his hand. "Mein herr, the lady Elspeth bade you and your companion speak out here while she discussed private matters with the lady Camilla."

"Out of my way." Cyrdic said, but the man simply began to speak again, holding out a hand to keep Cyrdic at bay. If he was in a more calm state, Cyrdic would have told him once more. But when it was Camilla that was on the line, he brooked no chances and grabbed the man by the cuirass before he could bring his rapier to bear. The gentlemen found himself in the chair that Cyrdic had been sitting in not a moment before, only the chair was now broken in two from the weight of the tossed man.

"Cyrdic?" Ricardo asked, shaking his head as if trying to shake sleep away. The Ostlander was already ripping his sword out of his scabbard and opening the door. When he found it locked, he shoulder rushed it, caving it in slightly. "Camilla!" he called, and then shoulder rushed it again. The second attempt shattered the oaken barrier, sending the wood scattering to the floor. Within the room was a balconied bed, and Camilla lain atop it with Elspeth baring her teeth at Cyrdic, needle sharp canines protruding from her mouth.

"Leech," he said, aghast. The surprise only lasted a moment however, and fresh, feral, and wolfish rage welled up within him once more. He let out a warcry and ran forward, thanking Ulric and Sigmar there was no blood yet as far as he could tell.
@Penny

Camilla rose up out of a euphoric state. She felt completely alive her whole body buzzing with desire and with pleasure. Her dark eyes were wide and dilated and she knew that Elspeth was about to transport her beyond her wildest dreams. The beautiful blonde was astride her, pinning her arms, needlessly to the bed as she leaned is as though to kiss her throat. Camilla closed her eyes and waited for the rush of pleasure she knew was coming and then, with bone jarring suddenness the door exploded inwards in a shower of splinters.

Elspeth's face changed subtly and suddenly instead of looking up a picture of perfect human beauty their was a hard beastial edge to the face. Her cannines were long and pointed like tiny daggers and she glared at the door in abject fury. Confusion still reigned in Camilla's mind as she saw Cydric in the doorway sword drawn.

"Elspeth... what?" she began in confusion but the woman shoved her face hard into the bed and leaped off with inhuman speed, avoiding the arcing thrust of Cydric's blade with a serpentine ease. She landed on the otherside of the room where she tore a stranged curved sword from the wall and whirled like a beautiful deadly angel.

"To arms!" She called in a clarion clear voice, "Kill the intruders!"

@POOHEAD189

Many men in Marienburg would have considered it some sort of lovely dream to walk in on their beautiful lover straddled by an ethereal and graceful woman such as Elspeth. But Cyrdic was much more old fashioned. That, and the fact that Elspeth was a vampire and Cyrdic was enraged by the idea of such an abomination getting near his Camilla was a complete turn off.

"To arms!" Elspeth called in a clarion clear voice after she had shoved Camilla into the bed, "Kill the intruders!"

Cyrdic had missed her with his initial swing, but the wolfish ferocity of his movements had him leaping toward the bed even as the Vampire called for aid. "Come on, girly," he breathed, lifting Camilla up and over his shoulder. Luckily for the Tilean courtesan, once her wits were about her she was in reach of Cyrdic's pistol, and she still had her own.

The Imperial held his sword toward the Vampire defensively, though for the time being she seemed content with staying put. A brettonian cry behind Cyrdic brought him back to his senses, and he whirred around, his sword catching the rapier of a gentlemen that had thrust at Camilla, barely missing her due to Cyrdic's movement.

His next slash was caught by the rapier, though the strength of Cyrdic's swing still disarmed the man. The gentlemen cried out, and Cyrdic's next punch had him floored. The Ostlander ran out of the room, seeing a swarm of eager suitors running down the hallway towards them. Ricardo shook his head, as if he was attempting to wake from a particularly nice dream. "Camilla? Cyrdic?"
@Penny

Camilla sqwaked as she was tossed around her disorientation fading rapidly now that she was removed from physical contact with Elspeth. The vampire stalked like a cat on the far side of the room, oddly curved sword held at the ready. As Cydric pivoted the woman lunged at his back with cat like speed, the point of her razor sharp sword leveled. Camilla tore the gun from Cydric's belt and batted the point of the weapon aside. The force of the blow sent it spinning from her hand and carved a sliver the length of her thumb from the stock. Sparks flew as the steel grated along the barrel. Camilla spun dizzily as Cydric turned to drive the vampire back but Elspeth had no need of such encouragement, she danced back with the same lovely grace with which she did everything, clearly not in a hurry to try conclusions with the Ostlander.

Now looking back at the door five big burly men burst through the door ignoring Ricardo as they rushed to their mistresses aid. All held swords of varying types and looked positively fanatical.

"Save me, please!" Eslpeth yelled with a heart rending helplessness which belied her very armed and lethal state.

"You heard the mistress!" Ricardo yelled, "Kill the Ostlander!" The men hesitated perhaps unused to being give orders. Elspeth frowned too but the men turned back to Cydric. Over their shoulders she saw Ricardo wink and then the Tilean moved. In the space of a heart beat he had two pisols, short barreled dueling guns out of his waste belt. The guns banged spitefully and were falling to the ground before the spray of grey matter from two of the charging henchmen sprayed over Camilla's face and Cydric's back. Elspeth's eyes widened in shock as she realized that whatever binding she had laid on the handsome mercenary was well and truly gone. Ricardo was through the door with rapier and a long dagger in his left hand. He slashed the blade across the ham string of one of the man and thrust the point of his long sword up through the back of the neck of the second, ropoping him with a boneless twitch. The last man stumbled on the bodies of the first and spun to face Ricardo just in time to catch the thrown dagger in the eye.

Camilla could only blink in astonishment at the display of speed and precision, all the more so because he had been as entranced as the rest of them only a few minutes earlier. Elspeth curled her lip and spoke a single word. The vampire exploded into a fine black mist which surged upwards in an odd reversal of wine being poured from an amphorae and they were suddenly alone in a room full of bodies.

"I'll be hanged," Camilla whipsered a little woozily. Ricardo let out a long breath and took up a bottle of wine from the dresser. He sniffed it first and then took a long swig.

"Maybe Ucellina, but not today I'm thinking."

Cyrdic ripped his sword out of a dead duelist, and then wiped his sword on the dead man's tunic. He gave Ricardo a look, and nodded to the man in thanks. The Tilean gave him a curt salute, and Cyrdic took it for what it was. Despite their disagreements, they were in this together for both Camilla, and survival. For now they needed to find a way to get out of this house. "Hang on, love." Cyrdic said, holding Camilla's leg's tight as she hung from the back of him.

Cyrdic and Ricardo made their way out of the room and into the hallway, and they both realized they had been too beglamored to know the way out. Ricardo cursed in Tilean, and Cyrdic knew a decision needed to be made. "Come on." He said, indicating they should move left and heading that way without pause, trying not to buck so to help Camilla get less dizzy and woozy. Soon, after a few minutes of winding and curving hallways, they made it to what appeared to be an exit.

Cyrdic and Ricardo burst into the street, the cobblestones and the night sky very welcome. What wasn't welcome however, was that there were a dozen city guardsmen armed and pointing their halberds at them, with two coaches behind them. "Halt, villains!" A scarred, older Guard said. He looked to have seen one too many horrors in his life, with a surly disposition and apparently busied himself with chewing something unknown within his jowls.

Cyrdic set Camilla down, keeping an arm around her to make sure she could stand. "Officers, we were led here by-" The Ostlander began, before the Sergeant grunted a disbelieving laugh. "This house belongs to the esteemed lady Elspeth, who is beholden to the lady Valgiana. You picked the wrong mansion to rob." He spat his tobacco onto the cobblestone street, and motioned for his guards to disarm them and take them in.

Ricardo held his sword up at the ready, unsure of what to do. Cyrdic didn't like the idea of parting with his sword. "Sirs, please. Where is the proof of our crime?"

"We'll get to the bottom of it once you're safely in chains."

@Penny

Interlude

Camilla considered killing Ivan Petrovich. It wasn't the first time the thought had crossed her mind, or even the forty first but, as usual, the plan foundered on the same points of logic. Ivan was a big man, and thus the logical choice for her to eat if this went on to long. Secondly, if a storm came up, his bulk would provide much needed buoyancy and last but not least it really had been a pretty good plan when it all started.

The Middle Sea, or maybe it was the Great Ocean, lapped playful at the wreckage as Camilla pushed herself reluctantly to her feet. The piece of wreckgage, formally a twenty foot section of hull from the Water Lilly, a trader from Brettonia bobed in the slight swell. Cydric sat in the improvised cross trees perhaps eight feet from the deck, keeping a look out for any sails or sight of land, Camilla didn't ask him if he saw anything, he certainly would have said so if he had.

The improvised raft was all that was left of the Water Lilly and as far as Camilla knew they were the only three survivors. For now anyway. It had rained last night and at least their water situation would be alright for the next couple of days. Still, they need to find land and soon. Camilla walked the ten feet towards the back of the raft and felt the morning sun being to prickle her skin. At times, she had been jealous of the pale skin of Imperial women, now she was thankful for her tan because an Altdorf Blond would be a mass of sunburn after three days adrift at sea.

At the back of the raft three lengths of kipper wire, salvaged from a barrel of salt fish trailed out into the ocean, Camilla pulled them in, hand over hand. Two were empty, the little morsels of fish gone from the hooks Ivan had improvised, but on the third flopped a fat but exhausted fish with silver scales. Camilla squealed with delight and pulled the thing aboard, braining it with the bottom of her dagger. At least their wood be breakfast. They could wait another day before eating Ivan.

@POOHEAD189

These past two weeks had been fraught with peril. From escaping the prison cart, to fighting their way out of Marienburg and the loss of Ricardo (Cyrdic had not asked Camilla what had befallen him), to booking passage on a ship and finding Ivan of all people, and finally the storm that had torn their sea-faring vessel asunder. It was said that Manann watched over Marienburg and all trade that left it. If their escaping the authorities had not brought upon his wrath, the Imperial hunter on-board the ship that had shot the Albatross out of the air certainly had. Any fool knew that the bird was favored by the Sea God. It wasn't another day before the waves grew larger than giants and crushed the ship as easily as Cyrdic could break a man's nose.

Now under the unrelenting sun, Cyrdic stood above the others on his perch at the mast, on the outside appearing tireless and vigilant. They didn't feel the dryness of his throat, or the worries in his head. He was glad for the small blessing of such a large piece of the boat drifting off, and of rain the other night, but another two days as they were and he felt they would be dead. The Imperial soldier also couldn't tell if it was a good thing or not that the skies were clear of any clouds. There wouldn't be another storm, but the unbearable heat would dehydrate them before long. Gods, this southern heat was hard on a man. He was already ruddy skinned from having to bear the sun on his expeditions and campaigns as a soldier in the North, but the heat was taking its toll on him.

He swallowed again, and took the smallest sip of his water jug to help him breathe, by Sigmar, as Camilla pulled the nets in and found a fish they could eat. Cyrdic let out a happy chuckle, and leaped down from the mast he was perched on to lope over to his lover. He'd felt she'd noticed there was a small rivalry between he and Ricardo, and Cyrdic had never known if she was put off about it or not. But such petty things had fled them (if they were even there) since they'd left the mainland. Though the heat could bring a short temper to everyone, if Ivan's uncharacteristic surely disposition was any indication.

"Ogh, did ve little flowere bring som veasting, egh?" Ivan grunted, pulling himself up to his proper, bearish height and looking over their shoulders as Camilla and Cyrdic began to prepare the small meal. He had found his horseman's gait very much accustomed to the swaying of the sea, oddly enough.

"Hough big is it?" Ivan asked impatiently, threatening to approach them and sending the entire raft onto its side. "Give us a moment," Cyrdic replied with a bit of his own impatience, giving Camilla room to work at the carcass with her knife. The small blood oozed onto the deck and off the planks, but it seemed what came next had been following them for awhile, as the blood had not even entered the water yet.

There was a bump against the bottom of the planks, and so intensely was Cyrdic looking at the fish that he almost did not notice until it was too late. A bit of net swaying along the side of the boat on the water surface, was suddenly seized from some force below, and tugged viciously. Parts of the net Cyrdic had been standing on tripped the muscled Ostlander, sending him down onto his back. He nearly lost his foot to a gaping maw, and on instinct the Imperial rolled away from the side of the ship to see three fins scything through the water.
@Penny

Camilla screamed and scrambled back, scraping her back on the few supplies they had managed to fish from the water. The sharks great maw snapped shut as they beasts tried to reach the cast away with desperate mindless hunger. Ivan roared something between a scream of frustration and a battlecry and, to Camilla's amazement swung a heavy peice of timber in a blinding arc that ended in the head of one of the sharks as it lunged forward. There was a titanic crack of rending timber and popping cartilage and the beast flopped spasticaly back into the water.

"That, Little Dove, is how you go fishing," he rumbled, seemingly in a better mood than he had been in days. Camilla wondered if it was simply the fact that he had an enemy he could see and strike, rather than invisible but implacable foes of hunger, thirst and exposure.

"Alright," Camilla said from her parched throat, "but you are filleting this one."

Camilla dozed as she hung in the lookout post. The sun beat down and she could feel her skin burning despite the makeshift shade. At times she dreamed, snatches of Tilea, of the Skaven in the mountains and of other places which she had never been in the waking world. A cawing sound recalled her to wakefulness and she snapped alert, her skin prickling. Gazing around the calm sea she saw little to comfort her until her eyes fell on a dark smudge on the eastern horizon. Black specs, perhaps distant birds could just be made out, circling.

"Cydric!" She yelled down excited, "Cyrdic there is land!" She pointed out in the direction of the distantly visible green.

It took three hours of near endless paddling for the three companions to make it to the mysterious shoreline, the green growing to form into an endless tree canopy an acre or two past a tanned beach full of rough and coarse sand. Luckily for them, Ivan had the fortitude of mind to pull one of the smaller sharks he had brained onto the raft so they had something to eat once they made it to shore. Cyrdic hopped off the raft once they made it to waist deep water, using his still considerable strength to help pull the mass of wood to shore.

Once they finally hauled it up, along with the shark, there was a brief pause as the fact they made it to shore filled them with euphoria. Cyrdic kissed Camilla triumphantly while Ivan kissed the ground in a similar fashion.

When the two let go of their embrace, Cyrdic knew they still needed more to live. "Ivan, go set up a camp!" Cyrdic called to him. The big man's rump was still in the air from embracing the sand, and once he lifted his head, his mustache and beard was coated in the stuff. "A vire, yhes?" He said, and scramlbed to his feet. "Tonight, ve veast my friends!" He announced, marching forward to look for firewood.

"I'll go look for water," He rasped, drying his throat by swallowing as best he could. " Here, let me see your flask. Check the beach and see if this is an island or not. Don't go too far, ok?" He told her, and the hand that was cupping her cheek let go, the soldier marching into the woods with a tired determination.

---

Camilla would walk the span of the beach, and soon find the coast curving somewhat along the horizon, suggesting this was almost definitely an island. Somewhat large, but an island none the less. The sand was biting hot and full of shells, threatening to swallow the lithe courtesan turned mercenary up with each step. The forest to her left remained relatively quiet other than the rustle of the palm trees due to the wind.

It was just as soon as she noticed the curve on the island, that she also saw two things that would increase her heart rate exponentially.

In the distance, a ship was approaching the shoreline, perhaps a few miles offshore. But it was no Imperial or even Estalian/Tilean merchant vessel. It was a large sloop, and the flag that flapped and billowed in the air was black. That was not the only complication, however. For a broken dingy bobbed on the sea line, and a scarred man had washed ashore, motionless upon the lapping tide with a parchment or map in one of his gnarled hands.
@Penny

---- Interlude ----

Helmut,

It is rare for a man in my position to admit that he is wrong, perhaps especially when he knows it is true. In this great Empire of ours, the administration of Justice must be seen to be both impartial and infallible. The events in Kennenburg winter last are a case, I choose to believe, of justice choosing to run on its own course. Afterall, what could be simpler than some poor deluded fool, Karl Hockendorf as I believe you know, being caught dabbling in the forbidden Lore of Chaos. That the lad had formerly been so highly decorated in the service of Ostland only made a tragic situation worse. We have both of us known too many veterans to whom the horrors of war have served as a spur into darkness.

The evidence was incontrovertible and the boy himself admitted his guilt. I was quite ready to consign him to the flames even without the official sanction of the Templar, none of their order being available in such a forsaken place, when events forced me to stay my hand. Afterwards of course many facts would come to light which forced me to question how often the instruments of justice are perverted....

Justicar Thaddeus Mortigan Von Eikenhouser - Collected letters

Herr Becker,

I pray this letter finds you and finds you quickly. My name is Eloise Hockendorf you do not know me but you served with my brother Karl against the Norscan's three years ago. He told me that if he were gone and there was trouble I should write to you. There is trouble Herr Becker and I fear that it is more than my brother can survive.

I do not have money but if by some miracle this finds and you come to Kennenburg all that we have is yours for the asking. I wish I could give you more details but I am afraid to commit any more than this to paper. I have taken a great risk to write even this much. Please in the name of Sigmar, help us.

Eloise Hockendorf - Kennenburg - The Third Day of Ulriczeist

The winter wind blew a steady sheet of slushy rain across the road. It coated the shivering pine trees and the stones that jutted from the roadside with sheet of wet ice that would harden to a deep freeze by the time Morslieeb rose into the blustery sky. Camilla pulled the fur lined cloak tighter around her as they trudged up the winding mountain road. It was a miracle it was passable at all, although definitions of passable were fairly wide ranging. This was more of an optimists passable the sun kissed Tilean thought as did her best to say in the footfalls of her larger companion.

Cydric Becker was a big man and hailed from the wild province of Ostland, doubtless he had dealt with his share of blizzards. The wolf pommeled sword he had won at Middenhiem hung at his belt, the golden scrollwork gleaming in the dying light. Camilla had not known Cydric long before he came to possess the sword but it seemed to her that he seemed less and less bothered by the cold of winter since he had began wielding it. The thought was subtly disquieting to her, though she couldn’t imagine why. In the distance there was a muted howl of wolves, mostly deadened by the incessant hiss of the freezing rain.

“Myrmida sanguinamento del seno,” Camilla cursed as she brushed at her eyes trying to clear the ice from her eyelashes. She pulled the grey woolen scarf up around her nose till only her eyes peeked beneath the hood but there was no helping it. At Cydric suggestion they had abandoned their horses, scrawny nags liberated from some bandits who were now very sorry for their lack of judgement, at the inn in Rothenbach. No doubt the innkeeper was anticipating selling them as a windfall when the two of them failed to return. Only a complete idiot would try to travel the twenty miles to Kennenburg in this weather but Cydric had been insistent.

A week ago Cydric had received a letter from the sister of a friend of his that vaguely stated that her brother was in very serious trouble. The very vagueness of the missive had seemed more troubling to Cydric than the contents seemed and the pair had set off for Kenneburg at the best speed they could manage. On icy bandit infested roads that wasn’t very fast, but Camilla highly doubted the Imperial House Cavalry could have covered the distance as quickly. Not without using gryphons which would have been cheating in any event. Camilla moved up beside Cydric, gazing at the snowy crags to which the winding road climbed. She cuped her hands to shout over the wind.

“How much further? If this muck freezes and we don't have a fire…” she left the statement uncompleted.

The howling of the wolves pierced his ears far more keenly than the scything wind. His musculature was scarred and ruddied from years of brutal combat and even more brutal winters, the rugged Ostlander trudged through the muck with an almost obsessive stoicism. Cyrdic Becker, former sergeant of Elector Count Valmir von Raukov and now infamous soldier of fortune, was like a hound on the scent. Single minded and utterly implacable until something snapped him out of his focus.

And yet this cold threatened to do just that, seeping into his powerful frame. He could feel it in his bones, and yet he wouldn't stop. The frost had even covered his signature scar along his left cheek, filling it in to the pore and crackling painfully if he ever moved his jaw. Somehow he found the will to keep going. Twenty miles was no long trek to a soldier. He'd traveled five times such a distance many times over the course of a handful of days. How could he stop himself now, when his old friend was in need of help? What man of the Empire would he be?

He noticed his knee felt somewhat weak when he stopped and turned to Camilla. In the ice and wind, Cyrdic looked akin to a youthful, veritable warrior of legend, with his freshly grown beard covered in ice, his wolfish eyes unperturbed by the wind. Camilla looked much different, and very out of place. However somehow it only accentuated her charms. Not for the first time did he marvel at how beautiful she was, even with her face covered by the cloth, her eyes could warm him more than any fire.

He sighed at her logic, and looked back at the distant crags, squinting against the wind and giving a low growl of frustration. Much like a man would make, only somewhat deeper as if from a secondary, more bestial source. Quickly, his old instincts returned to him, having been in desperate survival situations more times than most living men on campaign. He looked around, first at the snow filled muck before them, and then to the tree line along their left and right.

"This way!" He said, taking her hand to keep her from slipping as they left the road. One slip here could make one frozen, and prove fatal. He helped her until they entered the very limited shelter of the sparsely wooded trees. If the landscape hadn't lied to them, they might find a cave or a thick copse of birch to huddle in and make a fire, Sigmar and Ulric willing.

Even as the overcast sky grew dimmer, his eyes remained keen and aware. It was after even he nearly toppled from exhaustion that he found a small opening in one of the rises of the mountainous terrain.

Shelter.
@Penny

Relief was almost immediate as they entered the small cleft in the rock. Sheer walls of dull grey granite rose ten or twelve feet above them, atop which the branches of ambitious pines whiped back and forth in the storms tumult. It wasn’t so much a true cave as a small canyon that ended in a slightly sloping overhang. The temperature didn’t very much but just to be out of the enervating wind was an enormous improvement. To Camilla’s great relief it seemed that the spring thaws had deposited a considerable amount of broken tree limbs in the canyon over the years. The canyon floor was very uneven, covered with rocks ranging from the size of a fist to the size of a cannonball. Detritus gave the whole place a cramped feeling, reminiscent of a tunnel.

With Cydric’s help they were able to construct a small lean-to from aged pine branches. Getting a fire going was considerable more difficult as the timber was icy cold. Eventually Camilla solved the problem but mixing wood shavings with gunpowder from one of her pistol cartridges and igniting it with the flint. Carefully, the fed twigs to the tiny fire until it could digest some of the large pieces of timber.

Above them the storm continued to howl its fury and made the sky above the canyon a continual swirl of greyish white. Once the fire had warmed them Camilla peeled off her cloak and unfastened the black and red leather armor she wore beneath to allow the heat to penetrate. She was an extremely attractive woman, with long clean limbs, dark glossy hair and the features and figure of a Tilean statue. Before she had been rescued or escaped with Cydric she had been a professional courtesan, having been trained as such in her sun drenched southern homeland.

“Thank Ulric for small mercies,” she whispered, continuing her long standing habit of praying to whichever god seemed most convenient. The fire crackled and popped as the wet timber burned and she pulled off her gloves before sticking her hands close to the blaze to warm her long slender fingers.

“Tell me again why we are walking through a village to some burg or another I have never heard of?” she inquired plaintively.
@POOHEAD189

"It's a debt I owe," Cyrdic said, having planted himself on one of the larger stone. He had taken his boots and sword off, along with his Norscan shield. The way he wielded the round shield and the bastard sword, they seemed light. But when he placed them down, Camilla could hear the reverberating 'clunks' against the stone. As he spoke, he stripped off his cloak and furs, revealing his upper body's warrior physique.

With broad shoulders and powerful arms, his torso was both lean and yet thickly muscled. Along his tanned skin were scars he had received from across the old world, His strong hands hovered above the fire to keep them warm. "Karl served with me on my second Campaign." He explained. He had made and lost many friends in the army, and he categorized them by which Campaigns they served in with him. "It was Karl, me, and his cousin Gunter on the shores of Nordland when we were hit by a raid. A Norscan party had come round the mountain and over the dried riverbed in the night and attacked us. That night Karl saved my life from a Norscan Warsword, though that wasn't why I recall it."

Cyrdic placed another stick in the fire, trying not to imagine the crackle of the flames as breaking bone. "Gunter died during the fight, from the witchery of a Shaman of the Dark powers." The Ostlander's jaw clenched, and he looked away from the flames as if to avoid a memory, instead looking to his companion. "A story had gone around camp of one of the Norscan heroes of old having fought for Asavar Kul during the last War of Chaos, invading Nordland's shore along the Sea of Claws. Magnus the Pious slew him on his way back toward Altdorf, and the Champion's followers buried him along with all of their treasure somewhere along the coast. When Gunter was struck by the spell, he grabbed Karl and whispered something to him, even as he bled from his eyes. Karl told me that Gunter's last words were of the tomb."

A howl echoed across the blanket of wind outside, and it took Cyrdic a moment to realize it was his sword when Camilla didn't react. He grabbed the hilt instinctively, and the hackles along the back of his neck stood on end. "I told Karl that even if it were true, those were the mutterings of the enemy. He claimed he would find Gunter there. I made him swear by Sigmar and Ulric he wouldn't try to find it but..." He shook his head, earthy brown hair swaying lightly. "I just need to make sure he's safe.
@Penny