When the boy opened the door for them, Cyrdic didn't know what he expected. A blood slicked floor, a tangle of limbs as men and women writhed together, or perhaps the summoning of a daemon. Instead, there was a dim corridor that creaked as they stepped through it, and markings along the door of the opposite end of the hall. They were not even marked in blood, but some form of adhesive, it looked. He settled his mask along his face to better see, and the two entered the room. 

It looked close to a banquet hall, with a large, curvaceous table that stretched across the room. Various men and women, both fat and slim and all wearing masks chatted and loitered, speaking to one another jovially. Some lifted their masks up, but only enough to take a sample of the delectable meats and fruits at the smaller tables. It was even brighter in here than in the hallway. Cyrdic wondered if Oleg was crazy after all. The attack had happened but...this couldn't be where Chaos worshippers went to connive. 

Camilla tugged at Cyrdic's sleeve, and she indicated him look up. He did so, his confusion turning to dread as he saw the grisly fresco that had been painted upon the ceiling. A bronze warrior of intense hatred, a putrid and rotting monster, a crow headed mage, and an hermaphroditic temptress were descending upon a bastion of fading light, and brutal carnage and blood ringed the walls as they unleashed their hordes upon innocent woman and children. 

"Ah, hello." A voice like silk whispered, and the Ostlander felt a hand on his other arm, the side where Camilla was not. He looked down to see a slim woman, her mask in the form of two horses rearing upon their legs hiding most of her visage. "Ah new one I see...much larger than many of the others. How are you?" Her voice had more than a hint of suggestion to it, and Cyrdic didn't immediately answer. 

Suddenly, a glass was tapped by a spoon at the fore of the room, and all conversation ceased almost instantly. Even the woman, who had nearly run her hand across his chest, had stepped away and stood in perfect silence, intently gazing at the man who has made the noise. A darkly cloaked figure, his face covered by the mask of a bull-headed daemon. In a trance-like slowness, he set down the glass and spoon politely. 

"Take your seats." the voice commanded. It had a compulsion to its tone that beggared belief, though it wasn't impossible to fight. It only made you open to listening, and the aristocrats did as they were told. Cyrdic led Camilla to an empty part of the large table to not draw attention. 

"When last we met, the time was not right. Nor is it now. But soon our patience will be rewarded. The army of our masters forms, and we are the daggers in the dark ready to help cleanse this nation of Bear worshippers." The man said. He did not have a kislevite accent. It was one Cyrdic couldn't pinpoint. Reikland? "Next we meet, Morrsleib will be full, and the time will be right. As of now, your orders are where they are always kept." 

Everyone, in unison reached under the table and pulled out slips of parchment. Cyrdic and Camilla needed to reach for a moment, but they felt something brush their fingers and pull them out. It was a list of names, 12 in all. Both of their notes had them. On the bottom right of the parchment was a mark of Chaos, and Cyrdic could not even bring himself to hold it any longer, placing it on the table before him. 

"But before that, delve into the nether as you always do." the voice said, placing a hand down on the closest man's arm and unsheathing a knife. With a quick chop, he severed a finger, causing the man behind the mask to cry out until he was breathed upon by the Daemon-masked one, and he began to moan instead, and smeared his bloody stump across the skin of the one next to him. Everyone began to unclothe, and women from within the walls began to sashay out of the tapestries, as naked as they day they were born, except masked as all others were. "Please Slaanesh and Tzeentch." he said. "Khorne and Nurgle shall have their fills in the siege..."

"We need to go." Cyrdic whispered. 
[@Penny]