Camilla tried to pull Cydric to his feet but it was beyond her ability. The rents in his armor scratched at the leather bracers and her hands were slicked with skaven blood. The illusion of the open hillside was gone as though it had never been. The winter sky was open above the cave in, though the mounded icefall was far to slumped to climb. Snow flakes swirled down into the cavern in silent reminder of the worsening night above. Steam rose  from the corpses that littered the ground. 

Camilla pushed herself to her feet and staggered to where Von Eikenhausen lay. The Justicar lay amidst the carnage. His body was shattered, both forearms were broken, clearly evident by the unatural angle that they splayed. The arcane discharge of the eye’s destruction had blasted his armor to scrap, shredding the front of his stomach and the top of his thighs. Blood welled lazily from a thousand small wounds, staining his trousers and shirt crimson. Incredibly the Justicar still drew breath, slow wracking gasps that grew rapidly shallower. Shakily he reached out and took her wrist.

“Justice…” the mortally wounded man managed, words distorted by his shattered jaw. The grip slackened and Thaddeus’ sighed into stillness.

“Dovremmo andarcene da qui,” she hissed. A distant chittering  sound, as familiar as it was horrifying began to sound from one of the side passages. Slipping Cydric’s arm over her slender shoulder and heaved. There was no way she could have lifted Cydric unaided but the big Imperial managed to get his legs under himself, pressing his weight against his sword like a cane. The scrabble of claws and the lashing of great whips grew louder by the moment. Camilla cast a glance at the sky above, the lip of the cave in unreachablely high, and staggered towards the side passage from which Theodric had come. She could only hope the Skaven would delay long enough in the throne room to give them a head start.
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