“Ware!” Mattis shouted unnecessarily as the spectres flowed from their sarcphaougai, “Sigmar Lord of Men, Abjure the darkness!” The familiar Sigmarite battle prayer seemed to have little effect on the oncoming wraiths but Camilla felt the supernatural dread that had seized her abate slightly. With a running leap she vaulted onto one of the now empty tombs and launched herself towards the litch. A wraith reached out with its insubstantial arms but she flexed her body to avoid its touch. The Litch’s skeletal maw widened in what might have been amusement or surprise as she landed on the platform beside in, breaking the fall with both feet and one palm, keeping her sword arm straight and swept back behind her. The creature lifted one hand and an orb of darkness gathered around its fist before streaking towards the Tilean. Stone exploded from the ancient floor as Camila rolled away from the blast, turning the momentum into a savage upward flash that bought her to her feet, a long stilleto appearing in her off hand. The litch staggered backwards, barely avoiding the point of the elven blade as a sword of obsidian seemed to appear in its taloned fist.

“As ze fire burns the brush let my faith burn…” Mattis chanted his sword whistling through the thick air. Camilla put the Templar out of her mind, focusing instead on parrying the ebony blade that thrust at her. She pivoted inside the Litch’s guard and raked its belly with the point of her dagger, but it seemed to pass through the thing like a bullet through smoke.

“Foolish mortal,” the Litch mocked as it cut viciously at Camilla’s head. She ducked the blow and lashed out with her elven blade, aiming for the creatures legs. An invisible force struck her and hurled her back against one of the stone wall, shaking aged grave dust from the ancient mortar and driving the breath from her lungs. Gasping in pain she leaped to her feet, elven sword hot in her hand, the oddly curved runes on the blade seemed to gleam with some faint inner light as she gathered herself for another assault.

“Where did you find the blade girl,” the Litch sneered, tentacles of black smoke seeming to erupt from its back like great feathery wings.

“What gives you the right to wield the flame of the Asur?”

Rather than answering Camilla let out a string of invective that would have made Cydric proud and charged. She flicked the stiletto at the thing mid rush and than leaped, putting the full weight of her body behind the razored point of her sword. Black tentacles snapped out grabbing for the weapon but they exploded in showers of purplish sparks. The Litch shouted something in a foul language she didn't comprehend and time seemed to slow down until it seemed she hung in mid air, the tip of her blade a foot shy of her foe.  The tip of her sword blazed against the reaching tentacles etching harsh shadows across the ancient crypt. The foul taste of sorcery filled her mouth as she struggled to force the point of the sword home. For a moment it seemed like she might hang in an endless moment forever, unable to break the dead lock and then, with the majesty of a comet a ball of silvered lead swept lazily across her field of vision, the twin tailed comet of Sigmar wreathed in a trail of powder smoke. The pistol ball struck the Litch in the hip and suddenly her frozen form seemed to leap forward, finishing the thrust. The tip of her blade punched through the creatures sternum like a lance, the Litch toppled backwards shrieking vile imprecations but before it could hit the floor its form exploded into a million specks of inky black darkness, revealing a wizened aged skeleton beneath. Camilla crashed atop of the bones, snaping them to powder beneath her slight weight.