It was a shock to his senses, his mind whirring with the excess corruption of the Chaotic energies that flowed through Camilla's mind as it tried to ensnare her very soul. He couldn't see the visions that she saw, but he felt a brief glimpse of a dark presence, eternally, painfully beautiful in pose of ecstacy, a wide maw gaping. He saw towers and mountains and visions of himself slaughtering untold thousands of men, only for it all to be gone in an instant. 

[i]“Cydric,” she croaked and then rolled onto her side and vomited.[/i] 

Cyrdic regained his sensibilities just before she awoke, and he dropped his sword onto the hard ground, the landscape having transmuted back into the dried earth of the wasteland once more. They were now in the mountain pass, surrounded by the Elven ruins that seemed on the very precipice of crumbling into the dirt. Beyond them, the landscape shifted in a mockery of an Araby mirage, and Cyrdic could not look for longer than a few moments. 

Madness lay there. 

Cyrdic wrapped his cloak around her, and scooped her up into his arms. Ivan have a smile that opened his boisterous mustache to reveal his teeth. "Zsank Ursun. Little Dove..." 

"We have to go." Dietrichia warned. The men of the party looked around worriedly, as if searching for a lifeline that if they but grasped it, they would be free of this nightmare realm they found themselves in. Skaldi held his axe up defensively, eyeing the landscape with a scrutiny. "My magic is waning, and we have yet to truly face the wastes. We must flee."

Camilla's slim form nestled in his arms and her eyes now able to see him. She cupped his cheek and whispered "Ciao amore mio," and her smile was broad. Cyrdic smiled back. "You drive me insane," he said, and pressed his forehead to hers. The wind began to pick up, soon howling around them, and an unnatural iridescent dust billowed out of the north. It parted at the shimmering barrier of the witch. To his horror, Cyrdic realized it was concentrated warpstone. They needed to move.

"Vot," Ivan said, approaching. "Let me take little dove. Ve have to go and you zshould leed." 

Cyrdic reluctantly handed Camilla over, the huge Kislevite holding her easily in one arm as his free hand held his sabre. Camilla wriggled to get more comfortable, claiming she could walk freely while struggling to even sit up. She demanded the elven sword, and though Cyrdic was wary it was a Chaos artifact, Dietrichia placed her finger in the air before the sword and drew a line of blazing energy that burned into the retina. "It is an uncorrupted blade." She said. "Yantz, give it to her." 

Yantz mumbled something along the lines of 'she says its safe but wont touch it herself' and handed the wicked blade to Camilla. Picking up his own runic sword, Cyrdic led them southwards where they would likely freeze or starve to death if they did not become the lunch of mountain trolls. If he was not thanking all the Gods for Camilla's safe recovery, he would have begun to think they constantly played a cosmic joke on him. 
[@Penny]