It was all Cyrdic could do to hold off the beastmen that were teetering upon the stairway when Camilla fled. He was nearly skewered when he saw the Khornate warrior go after her, and he was honestly contemplating giving up the stairway and allowing these monsters to flow into the city to save Camilla's life. He wondered if such ways were how men turned to Chaos. To give up something morally imperative to save something precious to them. He decided now was not the time to think on such philosophical questions. 

It was with a force of will that allowed Cyrdic to remain defending until reinforcements arrived, though they weren't the ones he had thought would come. By Sigmar, Ulric, and Taal, they needed the city guard, not two more mercenaries! No matter how skilled! He realized he had no room to complain however, blocking an axe with a swipe of his longsword and kicking a beastman's shin, causing the monster to topple off and hit the flagstones a dozen feet below, breaking a limb or two. 

That beastman wasn't alone, as other marauders or beastmen had already fallen from higher heights and were either broken or unconscious. Yantz went to work dispatching each of them, slitting throats and gutting them while keeping his eye above so none that fell would land on him. Skaldi had not stayed idle, running up the stairwell as fast as his stubby legs could carry him, shield raised and gromril axe ready. 

"Right, Ostlander!" Skaldi roared, and Cyrdic sidestepped toward the wall as Skaldi took the left side of the stairwell, taking much pressure off Cyrdic. Anyone looking Cyrdic's way would see he was only moving by sheer force of will at the moment. There was a small fountain of blood dripping from somewhere above his scalp, and his side was lightly ripped open. Still, he moved with a ferocity that befet a warrior or Ulric, matching Beastmen in strength and Norscan's in barbarity as Skaldi hacked and bashed, severing legs and eviscerating chaos spawn. 

Camilla had begun to aid Yantz, cutting and slicing those that managed to leap or fall off. It was only by the grace of Sigmar, or perhaps Ursun that they were still alive. But as more Norscans made it up the walls, with larger and stronger opponents on the way, it was only a matter of time before the tired defenders were overwhelmed. Cyrdic cut a Norscan in the collarbone, while receiving a blow to his own shoulder, one that left a nasty gash he knew he needed to worry about. 

Suddenly, just as Cyrdic and Skaldi were knocked back by a large Minotaur, arrows and gunshots rang out from the alleyways to the west, and a great cry rose up as men in brigandines and sabers came to the companion's aid. Otto the Greatsword led them, his face cleaned and with a renewed vigor and sense of purpose, charging in to aid his comrades. They rushed forward, causing the Chaos warriors to be distracted for a moment and gave the two on the stairway time to breathe as they rushed in.

As Camilla and Yantz were doing their bloody work, one of the headless Norscan bodies twitched. It was a barely perceptible movement, but neither of the two noticed. Until the Chaos infestation that had been borne within sprang to life, and a horrible face of a serpent with a man's visage sprouted out of the corpse's neck, and its hand grabbed Camilla's ankle. She screamed, turned and stabbed the writhing body with her blade, the elven sword ending its secondary daemonic life. Cyrdic had heard the cry though and turned on instinct, lowering his guard. 

A club struck him at the back of his head and sent him hurtling towards the ground, ten feet below. His nerveless fingers let go of his sword, and he felt as if was now falling for eternity. Just as the city watch made it to the stairwell, Cyrdic' world went black, and he knew no more. 
[@Penny]