Camilla’s mind went blank as the psychic prophecy echoed in her mind. The name of the Prince of Pleasure had long had an unreasonable effect on her she staggered against Cydric as her teeth clacked together. Contact with the big swordsman seemed to disperse the iron shot mist of a moment before and she was once again in control of her faculties. There was no way for her to know why the name affected her so. It wasn’t the sort of thing one mentioned to a witchhunter or a priest after all.

A black furred skaven in armor of rusted steel, shoved a spear at her. Twisting her lithe body she pushed the tip away with the light blade of her rapier and then slashed a riposted at the things head. The beast jerked its head back but as fractionaly to slow the razor sharp tip slashed through the things snout at eye level in a spray of blood and less identifiable fluids. The big rat let out a chittering scream and dropped its halberd, staggering backwards. Camilla followed it with a neat thrust between neck and collarbone. 

Across the hall she saw the Justicar go down in a pile of thrashing tails and clacking teeth. An impressive pile of severed arms and heads lay about him. With flick of her wrist she sent her dagger flying across the room and into the eye of one of the creatures as it raised a rusty shortsword for the deathblow. She sprang across the room in three long strides, thrusting with the weight of her body into the back of a patchy furred skaven with no weapon save its teeth and claws. She stamped down had on the tail of another and punched the hilt of her fencing blade into its face as it whirled to confront is tormener sending it sprawling with a crack of breaking facial bone. With her free hand she gripped the hilt of her dagger and twisted ripping it from the eye socket of her earlier victim in time to catch a clumsy sword thrust. Pivoting her body in a tight arc she slammed her elbow back into the rats face and then reversed her grip to bury it in the back of its neck while it staggered. Von Eikenhausen lay on the floor covered in blood that might or might not be his own. Though his face was torn open to the skull and his left cheek as entirely torn away, Thaddeus still gripped a skaven by the throat. Huge muscles bulged and the terrified creature scrabbled at the imperial with its claws tearing fresh furrows in his skin. With a roar of effort Thaddeus closed his hand convulsively and the creatures throat gave with a crunch of cartridge that as audible even over the din of battle.  

Silence fell over th ancient hall. If any of the skaven were still alive they were making certain to pretend otherwise. The eerie figure that rose from the corpses spoke some garbled words. Thaddeus gurgled something that might have been ‘traitor’ before subsiding into a groaning paroxysm.

“Here we three stand once more, as the Changer has ordained,” the cloaked figure said graneligently. 

“And on the eve of the invasion we have laboured so long to engineer, it is fate my friends,” the cowled speaker enthused. Camilla’s hand slipped to her belt and she began to ease one of her dueling pistols free of her arming belt.

“I am Gunter Hessman no longer,” the armored giant boomed, his voice somehow echoing inside of her mind as well as within the cavern. 

“They told me I would see you again old friend,” the cowled figure chuckled.

“I AM THEDORIC!” the thing boomed, as though the fact were as primal and indisputable as a mountain.
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