"We're near out of food and water." Konrad said, after having taken a ginger sip from his water skin. He wiped his mouth and handed it to Olaf, who looked nearly as tired as Camilla. The man was very skilled, and strong as a bull. But he looked as if the small portion of the wastes they had been through had drained much of the fight out of him, and he had already looked as if he had seen near too many winters for another campaign. 

"Unless the river is far underground, it could be tainted with warpstone." Skaldi warned. They had made good time despite Camilla's understandably weak pace, but they had still not made it to where the air was cold, and even then the taint of Chaos still flowed freely over the land. The Kislevites had intoned Ursuns name constantly, bewildered at their luck of not being eaten by any of the horrible denizens or warbands that could have come across them in this bleak journey. But Dietrichia had a satisfied look, as if she knew that powerful Gods watched over them as long as Cyrdic and Camilla were there. She insisted they would make it to Praag. 

The others were not as optimistic as the witch. 

"Can you find an entrance?" Cyrdic asked Skaldi without looking at the Dwarf, instead his gaze was trained backwards and to the east, vigilant for any horrors that might befall them. On the eastern horizon, a vast ruined city of stone and brass reached into the sky, impossibly large. The city dwarfed Altdorf and Middenheim in its size, and the architecture did not look familiar to Cyrdic's sensibilities at all. To the north, the sky shimmered and convulsed with energy. "A cave or some sort?" 

"If there's a cavern, I'll find it manling." Skaldi declared, kicking at the dirt once more to reveal the grooves in the ruined earth. It was amazing to Cyrdic that water could have ever flowed here. He had heard stories that the wastes had progressed further and further southwards over the centuries. Cities of ancient Man, Elf, and Dwarf had been swallowed up by its inevitable approach. He hoped it would come no closer to the Empire. 

The Dwarf led them south east, over ground that looked as if it would crumble at any moment. Vegetation that seemed to bleed human blood dotted the landscape, caking the ground and giving Cyrdic the feeling they walked over dried, living skin. It was chilling, and for a short while even Camilla did not mind being carried to avoid touching it. 

Later that day, the air began to grow a slight chill, and the ground began to look somewhat more normal. Though Cyrdic knew they mustn't let their guard down. Even as far south as Norsca (Sigmar, what a phrase), chaos mutations ran rampant and daemons could be summoned easily. There was a reason the land to its east was called Troll Country. And they were not even there yet. 

It was by Ulric's strength and Sigmar's mercy that they finally found a group of crags and a sloping of the landscape, giving it a shallow, mountainous look despite no peaks rising to reach the clouds. Skaldi led them over the ground, and further within, his eyes meticulous and trained to seek any imperfection in the rock. 

It seemed his intense focus on the trail had distracted his other senses, however. It wasn't Skaldi that forewarned them of the dangers ahead, but Dietrichia. She threw her hands up and hissed. "Wait!" as loud as she dared, causing the others to pause. Yantz seemed to grow a cold sweat, looking at her curiously. Cyrdic didn't know what was transpiring, until he breathed in through his nose and tasted a faint ozone in the air. A scent that caused his entire form to shudder, and he felt the hairs on his neck raise, as if electrically charged. 

"Vat is it?" Ivan whispered, the group now lowered and hiding between the boulders of the uneven landscape. 

Ivan was answered by a crack. The noise was deeper and reverberated unlike a blackpowder weapon. Another rumble followed, and a third. Cyrdic hugged the back of the boulder he hid behind, and he could see Camilla and Ivan across a short expanse away from him. He saw his love's eyes widen in horror at whatever being that [i]existed[/i] and defied reality behind him. Clenching his teeth, Cyrdic breathed in through his nostrils and slowly inched closer to the edge of his cover, and second by terrifying second, he moved to give himself the slightest peak of what horror lay beyond. 

It was at that moment, he felt true fear. He beheld something he never thought he would see in his mortal life. An immortal beast beyond time, tainted by a dark pact with Chaos and wielding a crackling hammer of lightning. 

It was a Dragon Ogre.
[@Penny]