[IC] Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

[Penny]

Camilla rested her head against Cydric's shoulder for a moment. Truth be told her body ached mightily both from the exertion of the past few days and their nocturnal activities the night before. It had been what? A week or slightly more since the duel at the Elector Palace. It seemed hard to believe now that so much had happened.

"I'm fine," she assured him, "mending well! I've probably seen the two best doctors I've ever seen in my life since I met you." She cast a sidelong glance at Cydric.

"I hope that is a good sign," she joked, gazing out over the water. They stayed like that for a time quiet and enjoying each others company. The night was very black but there were still occasional hamlets on the river bank and the moon was full turning the river into a silvery ribbon that the helmsmen had no trouble seeing. A slight shiver ran through her, the heat of the summer was passing and soon the weather would begin to turn colder. When she first came from Tilea she had never believed it could get so cold.

Heavy footsteps from behind them announced the arrival of a newcomer.

"Peaceful enough I'll grant," Reiner said as he moved down the side of the ship. Camilla realised he had deliberately stepped heavily so as not to surprise them. She turned to look at him and was suprised that some of the flippancy was gone from the man. He seemed more serious somehow in the moonlight.

"There has been unrest along the river, Peasants claiming to follow some leader or another, rising up and killing off pirates and other brigands," Reiner paused to spit over the side to emphasize his opinion of the matter.

"Problem is the Witch Hunters say its heresy and the courts are saying its treason. They are calling out troops to put them down if you can credit it," he said, his lip curling with distaste.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

"Even the Reikwald has always been dangerous, from what I hear." Cyrdic said, letting out a breath in the cooling air of the night. "I'd think it would be a blow to morale if even the Emperor and his armsmen couldn't protect the roads or rivers so close to Altdorf." But of course the Witch Hunters and Courts couldn't acknowledge someone else is doing their job better than them. Perhaps they were spending too much coin on foreign campaigns against Chaos incursions.

"Oh, the countryside around here is full of unrest, but the rivers run safe I'd wager." Reiner said, crossing his arms and looking out into the forest. "We should be in Marienburg within a few days, or le-"

A sudden jerk in motion caused all three of them to whip forward with an intense momentum, nearly sending them straight off the groaning barge. Cyrdic grabbed Camilla's arm, keeping her lithe frame from slipping off, having grabbed the handrail on instinct. Reiner had hit the rail, but kept himself upright with but a grimace.

The barge had not halted, but it had slowed considerably. Cyrdic's first reaction was they had hit a rock, but he felt whatever had halted the barge give a little, as if it let go because the weight of the vessel was too large to halt entirely. Which meant it was either an underwater tree that had bent or snapped, or it was something living...

"What in blazes?" Reiner hissed, looking about.

"SAVE MOI! EE' HAZ ME IN IZ CLAWZ!" A man screamed, his brettonian accent thick, cutting through the still night air. Suddenly from across the deck there was a splash, and the man's screams were suddenly silenced.

The barge groaned again, and men began to stir and call out. The sound of steel was drawn, and weapons being loaded. "Ho! All clear on the north side!"

"Where is Louis!?" another voice cried.

"To the east! To the east!"

Across the deck, a massive fin flopped up atop the deck. In the moonlight, it took the three of them a moment to decipher it wasn't a fin, but a wet, massive arm covered in algae. With an inhuman strength, and a grip that ripped timber, the arm hauled up a shape that was twice the height of a man, and perhaps nearly the same width. Putrid and ugly, the River troll was dripping with water and a thick, dark substance Cyrdic guessed was blood.

"Sigmar," Cyrdic cursed.
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla let out a yelp, of terror. The thing was enormous, and covered in ropy muscle, its knuckles alone were the size of melons. Casually the thing threw the two halves of the Brettonian in separate directions and then let out a foetid raw. Black sludge of some sort poured from the things mouth in a gyser that stank of bile and rotting vegetaion. Where the black sludge splatterd the deck bubbled and hissed, one man was screaming cluthing at his face as he staggered blindly around the deck.

"Troll!" Reiner screamed although he was already running back down the length of the ship towards the thing. Camilla pulled one of her new pistols pointed and pulled the trigger. The flint snapped forward but didn't catch and Camilla cursed and pulled the second weapon and level it. This one did fire and though it wasn't a question of hitting the beast, not at this range. It gave no sign that it even noticed the shot.

With a roar the thing smashed its hands down on the bulkhead railing shattering the heavy timbers like kindling. Men screamed as splinters slammed into them, quilling them with inch long pieces of wood. Camilla cast her eyes around for some sort of heavier weapon to use, confident her epee would be worse than useless. She settled on a heavy marlin spike and scooped it up, looking for an opening.
@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Reiner had collected himself well enough, seeing the monster as just another thing to kill once the mystery of what had stopped the barge was solved.

"Load and aim!" He called, as men scurried and shakily aimed their weapons at the monster. Crossbow bolts thudded into it, only a few actually making it cringe in any sign of pain. The crack of firearms accompanied it, puncturing holes that began to knit themselves back together even as the Troll grunted from the impact of so many.
Cyrdic waited for the missiles to be spent so he wouldn't get hit in the back, and when he saw that only slightly wounded the thing, he cursed.

He cried out to Sigmar and Ulric, and sprinted forward, joining a few of the more brave swordsmen and halberdiers (and Camilla) as they charged. The Troll was more annoyed than anything, its soaked and leathery flesh absorbing or spitting out the projectiles with tiny, wet sounds. Cyrdic had never faced a troll before, but he'd heard plenty of stories. There was always a first time for everything...

The Troll swept a huge arm in a swinging arc, sweeping over the soldiers that charged. Out of the dozen, three were knocked away. One hit the cabin of the ship, and the other two flew into the water as if clubbed by a giant. Cyrdic ducked under the lumbering swing, and as the halberds pierced the Troll's flesh, he sprinted past the far-reaching polearms and sliced open the Troll's belly. Reiner hacked at its Knee with his sword, gritting his teeth.

The beast roared in pain as Cyrdic's runic sword cut into it. At first, he thought he killed it. But soon enough, he saw the flesh repairing itself, albeit more slowly than most wounds it had taken. He wasn't sure if that was because it had already been greatly damaged, or because his weapon was magical in nature.

The Troll opened its great maw, and suddenly acid was regurgitated from its throat and onto the deck. Cyrdic barely leaped out of the way, part of his cloak having been incinerated from the terrifying and smelly bile. It screeched and wailed as more missiles and melee weapons punctured its body, and it grabbed a swordman to use as a club, swinging him to and fro to knocked aside halberdiers. The soldier slammed into Cyrdic, sending him flying back across the deck, skidding until he hit the stairs.

"Find lamp oil!" he croaked, the wind having been knocked out of him. "Anything we can burn!" Reiner seemed to have had a similar idea, calling for gunpowder or ale.

He got to his knees again, cringing as the Troll tossed its makeshift club of a corpse into some crossbowmen who were reloading.
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla blinked out of her shock as Cydric started shouting instructions. She looked dubiously at the monster as it hammered at the side of the ship with alarming force. She could hear timbers screeching and cracking even over the sounds of the crewmen's screams and curses. Sheathing her uselessly discharged pistols she took a running leap out from the top of the forecastle, catching one of the stays which had been torn loose by the beasts assault. Her battered body shrieked in protest as she took the strain but she managed to hang onto the rope, swinging on her momentum towards the ratlines towards the stern of the ship. As the momentum began to give she let go flying the last few feet to the ratline and snagging it with agile fingers.

Below her the troll howled in pain and animal hunger hammering at the ship and men with equal, bestial enthusiasm. More timbers were shattering and the smaller of the two masts began to lean alarmingly. Camilla hopped gracefully onto the quater deck where a screaming Captain Kemmler was order the crew and the mercenaries to do something. What exactly she expected them to do was unclear from the woman's inarticulate screams. She couldn't tell in the dark but Camilla imagined that if the light had been better she would have seen the woman turn purple with rage.

"You! What are you..." she spluttered but Camilla ignored her covering the last few feet to the tafrail lantern in two long bounds. Grasping the heavy glass navigation lantern she pulled it free of its sconce. THe thing weighed as much as a cannon ball but she struggled over to the edge of the quarter deck. For a moment she felt a hot rush of defeat, for she could see no way to get the heavy oil resoviour onto the troll. Reiner and Cydric were struggling with something, a barrel or a cask of some kind and trying to avoid being pounded to paste by the thing. Worry stole over her for a second before she forced herself to focus. Grabbing a piece of rigging she slice the hempen rope in half and hastily wrapped it around the ceramic oil reservoir. With a heave she shoved it out into space like a vast pendulum.

The lantern arced over the troll and began to swing back towards the quater deck. Camilla drew one of her knives and timed her moment. At the last second she hurled the knife, slicing the razor sharp blade neatly through the rope that held the lantern. The thing fell across the troll splattering its shoulders and upper back with glittering fish smelling oil.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

The powder keg would have been only relatively heavy for Cyrdic if he hadn't been thrown into the side of the ship. Truthfully, he could still probably lift it relatively well, but they wanted speed and cohesion, so Reiner and he worked on getting it topside as the monster rampaged across the boat. In the moonlight, Cyrdic could see the Troll was getting damaged, perhaps even fast enough for its regeneration to be halted. But it wouldn't be fast enough to save the ship, or the crew.

They had to work quickly.

Splinters and water droplets clung to the men's hair and they hauled it up on deck, Cyrdic and Reiner needing to duck as a man was thrown over their heads and off the ship entirely.

Glass shattering brought Cyrdic's head round, and he swore he saw a lithe silhouette atop one of the castles. The Troll looked suddenly slick with something thicker than its natural slime.

"My hero," Cyrdic said under his breath, realizing just how easy it would be to kill the Troll with both the gunpowder and oil along its form. Reiner began to unclasp the top, but Cyrdic halted him. "Wait, do you have a cup?"

"A cup?" Reiner asked incredulously. "By Sigmar man!"

"Your flask, give it to me!" Cyrdic called, and after a moment Reiner handed it to Cyrdic. The Ostlander gripped the worn leather and ripped open the cask, scooping up the blackpowder inside. Reiner seemed to understand. It was a last resort to use the whole cask, because it would destroy the boat as easily as it would the Troll. But a small charge along the oil...

"I'll keep it busy," Reiner said. "Blasted lunatics, the both of you."

Cyrdic didn't have time to banter, unceremoniously spinning and running across the deck. He ducked another thrown man, and leaped over a poor swordsman's torso as he ran. His sword was out and ready, the faint howling of the blade in the back of his mind as he approached.

Halberdiers and swordsmen still kept it relatively at bay, but the men were tired and slick with blood. The Troll looked damaged, but its flesh continued to knit and close. Grotesquely, it had a leering look upon its face, as if it was giving a knowing smiling. It took Cyrdic a moment to realize that was because some buckshot had torn half of its cheek off not moments ago.

Cyrdic waded through the throng of men, and hacked at the Troll's arm. The beast bellowed, but before it could strike it was skewered by a press of men at Reiner's orders to advance. Cyrdic made a desperate slide under the creature's legs, the stench terrible and almost making Cyrdic pass out. But he made it across, and with his sword, slit open the Troll's back. It screeched, and he placed the flask within, sticking out even if the Troll's skin healed.

Cyrdic's grin was shortlived however, as the beast began to flail. He backed up in a dodge, and felt himself pressed against the rail. He growled, unperturbed and cut at the Troll's flank.

"Camilla!" he called, now slick with blood and oil himself. He saw her just above them. "Shoot it!-"

His words were drowned out by the Troll's elbow, having drawn its arm back to strike forward. Cyrdic was knocked through the wooden rail and sent into the Reik, the dark water swallowing the heavy Ostlander up within seconds...
@Penny

[Penny]

"Cydric!" Camilla screamed as she saw her lover vanish into the night black waters of the river. He had been trying to shout something to her but it was impossible to hear over the tumult. Fortunately it seemed that Renier had a better idea of what to do. The mercenary seemed to throw a handful of something at the rampaging troll and a heartbeat later it flashed into ugly yellow flame. The flame caught onto the oil covering the thing and a second later the oil flamed to light, illuminating the deck of the ship in a wan light. The troll bellowed in pain and Reiner threw himself to the ground.

Camilla frowned in confusion at the action as she rushed down the gangway towards the beast. Roaring in fury and agony the thing staggered back several feet and then with a whopping concussion something in its back seemed to explode. Showering the deck with blob of sizzling flesh. The thing staggered back several paces, clawing feebly at the anvil sized hole in its back and then fell into the water in a gyeser of spray.

Camilla rushed to the shattered railing, eyes scanning for any sign of Cydric, even as Reiner drunkenly tried to stand, shaking his head as though to clear it.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

The wet explosion was lost on Cyrdic, who was weighed down in the water by his thick clothing and armor. What's more, he'd never been the best swimmer. The man had learned, but it wasn't a great skill of his. Still, he kicked upwards and brought himself gasping to the surface after what seemed like an eternity. Fleshy shrapnel was matted to his head, and from the stench and the lack of roars he could guess rightly enough it was the Troll.

"Here!" He cried as best he could, his throat halfway filled with water. He tried his best to take in slow, deep breaths to save his strength and keep air in his lungs.

The barge loomed beside him, but it was swiftly making its way down the river with the current. He could be seen by the side of the railing, however. Briefly, he caught a glimpse of Camilla's face, and his eyes met hers before a wave engulfed him yet again. If he had air, he would growl and curse in frustration at his helplessness. But he didn't have air. The air was now replaced with a blackness at the edge of his vision, the light of the moon slowly obscuring as he reached out of the water desperately one more time.
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla dropped her weaponsbelt to the deck with a quick twist of her wrist and then made a long running dive of the rear of the shift. She thrust her arms out infront of her, hands clasped, and speared smoothly into the water with hardly a ripple. Her long legs were already kicking as she broke the surface and started kicking out towards Cydric. The current was slow but strong and she only just managed to reach him before he went under.

Unfortunately she hadn't counted on the fact that Cydric out weighed her by a significant amount and it took all her strength just to keep him above the water. For a terrifying moment she was convinced that she wasn't going to be able to manage it and they would both go to the bottom of the river, but as she struggled with his weapons belt her hand brushed against the hilt of his wolf pommeled sword. A suprising warmth seemed to flow from it, even in the cold of the river water, and suddenly they broke the surface and she dragged the struggling Cydric towards the shore.

By the time they splashed onto the sandy bank the ship was out of sight, having been carried away by the current and confusion. Camilla sank to the sand in exhaustion.

"You certainly know how to show a girl a good time."

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic hacked a very wet, unappealing cough as they broke the surface. It was lucky Camilla's legs were so strong. Even being very close to the shoreline, Cyrdic was a heavy burden. He had almost stopped struggling what's more, making him dead weight for much of the swim until the very end where he hauled himself up on the beach.

Sputtering still, the lack of oxygen caused his head to swim and his muscles to buzz from the lack of blood flow. He gasped and wheezed, shuddering for moments as his vision and wits came back. Only then did he fully grasp it had been Camilla that had saved his life. He shouldn't have been surprised, he knew.

"How else was I going to get you alone?" he joked, voice and body still weak, though growing stronger with the passing seconds. He cleared his throat, and pushed himself up from the soaked dirt of the shore. He shook his head, guilt washing over him like the waves had. "Sorry... I should hav-" He let the thought pass, knowing it would only sound foolish. "Thanks," he breathed, smiling.

With that, he got off his knees and onto his feet, extending her a hand to help her up. Beside them, the forest was only lightly wooded, but still a stark, looming presence of darkness compared to the open river in full moonlight.
@Penny

[Penny]

Interlude

A Word on Bravos - From Picturesque Places and Puerile People Vol 3 - Adolfus Kriger Altdorf Press

Much unnecessary ink has been spilled over the years over the institution of Tillean Bravos. All nations have the various assorted scum who kill for coin of course but none elevate them to quite so unnecessary a level of foolish romanticism as the Tileans. This is not surprising as the various principalities of that arrogant nation are rarely able to muster the effort to raise any actual disciplined state troops, and consequently rely on motley bands of mercenaries and desperadoes.

Tilean's love to tell tales of these so called Bravos to anyone who can listen. It rises to the level of a national past time to sharp gullible foreigners. Consider the tales of Condoteri Scola, supposed secret schools which train mercenaries and assassins. Although they appear with what one might describe as monotonous regularity in fiction and drama, there has never been a documented case of one existing. The stories of assassins and spies are all so much hogswash brewed up for the amusement of travelers.

Tilean's ought stick to whores and ugly artwork and leave the mystique and practice of arms to their more competent, more civilized, more genteel northern neighbors.

[Penny]

Marienburg

There was a particular irony to walking into one of the greatest port cities in the world. It was not, Camilla reflected, as she trugged along the trail footsore and weary, a particularly pleasant irony. The grandly named Marienburg Road, was effectively a muddy goat track which was to unimportant to even warrant paving stone. The sides of the road were covered with almost dead grass as the autumnal chill sucked the warmth from the air. Here and there a cottage stood, feeble fires blazing against the evening as the two weary travelers passed by.

It had been an awkward time to arrive, they had been too close to the city to risk camping out in the woods and too far to make the trek before nightfall. Camilla hefted her pack over her shoulder and picked her way along the road. She for one would welcome a proper bed for the first time in a week, even if it did cost a chunk of their increasingly meager savings. It had surprised her how quickly the money had gone but both of them had resolved to enjoy it, neither having any particular desire to settle down to a quiet life.

The lights atop the city walls were clearly visible now. Odd low walls which were familiar to her. Marienburg was a remote city by any means, but it was also on one of the major trade arteries of the world. Beyond greedy Imperials, pirates and raiders of all sort would be drawn to the city if it wasn't well defended.

Cydric had explained that Marienburg wasn't truely part of the Empire and hadn't been since the time of someone called Boris Goldfinger. Camilla wasn't an expert on Imperial history, but to her the state of affairs in Marienburg seemed natural. A city ought not be bigger than a city, afterall how could one govern territory that one never saw. The city state was the natural order of things. She was about to remark as much to Cydric when the clatter of horses hooves drew her attention.

Turning she saw, to her amazement a great black coach, rocketing along the road at a speed that would have been suicidal reckless on the promenade at Pavona, much less on rocky animal track like this one. The whip of the drive cracked loudly in the night air and Camilla realized that the driver either hadn't seen them or had no intention of stopping.

"BLoody buggering hell!" she yelled and threw herself sideways at the same time as Cydric did barely avoiding the churning hooves and clattering wheels as the coach raced past. She had a momentary impression of plush silk curtains and gorgeous carved wood and then the thing was past, tilting but not quite toppling as it took one of the shallow bends in the road. Sparks came up from the hooves of the horses as they struck rocks in the road. She cast a skeptical eye over at Cydric.

"Welcome to Marienburg I suppose," she said with the detached amusement of someone who has just dogged an arrow.

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic had been born for the rough road, inexorably marching forward through the rainy and dreary days the two had traveled. However, even his spirits were somewhat dampened by their treasure haul having diminished quite rapidly. He almost couldn't believe it, and had a sneaking suspicion that much of it had been lost at the bottom of the River Reik that fateful night not a week ago.

He was just about to suggest they invest what they had left in the Marienburg bank. He'd heard it was surprisingly popular, and a reliable place to keep one's money. However, his thoughts escaped him as a black coach hurtled toward them like a Knight on a charger, and Cyrdic dived flat onto the side of the road next to Camilla, mud and wet sticking to them.

"By Sigmar's hammer," he seethed, whipping back up onto his rump and glaring at the coach that skidded across the loose stones on the road. To say Cyrdic was never mad would be a gross inaccuracy, but most of the time his anger was a fierce battle-rage. This particular instance, he just seemed pissed for more than a few moments. He calmed somewhat after they both stood up, however, and he made sure nothing was loose from his person.

"Yeah..." he agreed when Camilla made her observation. He sighed, and brushed himself off. "Let's go see what we can find. Good food and a warm bed, first off."

It took them less than five minutes to make it to the gate in the district Ostmuur. The doors were close to closing, or so the guards had claimed. He doubted they'd shut the doors, regardless. The road from the gate dipped in a decline, straight into the distract. And as Cyrdic and Camilla stepped into the gate and past the walls, it looked like they had stepped into another world entirely.

The forests and mud were gone, and below them was a very Imperial looking sector, though the odd architecture and the mingling foreigners were certainly different. Past the buildings, Cyrdic and Camilla could see sails lazily waving like distant trees in the swiftly darkening sky, and the river Riek spilling into the Mannaansport Sea was something that brought a sense of wonder to the Northern Ostlander.

He might have enjoyed the site if he hadn't nearly died and splattered with mud.

Three blocks down and the glinting lanterns of the streets had just been lit. Cyrdic had his cloak wrapped around his muscled form, keeping an eye out for Inns while Camilla looked for pick-pockets. Luckily, Cyrdic's search came to fruition once they found a three story building with a widely spaced porch, named Taal's Rest. It had a very crude sign of a tree, and quite the inaccurate picture of the God himself next to the name.

Cyrdic snorted, but it didn't stop him from heading into the building without hesitation. He just hoped the prices weren't as ridiculous as the sale's pitch.
@Penny

[Penny]

The Taal's rest did NOT have a bath the fat innkeeper's wife informed Camilla in no uncertain terms. The woman had impressive jowels and Camilla had to fight the almost irrisistable urge to watch them wobble. The woman's frown deepened as though sensing the Tilean's scrutiny. Camilla was suddenly glad they had settled on the price before this conversation. Even so the small room they had rented had been a considerable expense. The winter was bringing on rough seas and the more cautious captain's wouldn't risk fighting the storm winds down the coast. As a result the whole city was packed with sailors who couldn't find passage out. It was a yearly cycle but that didn't sop the innkeepers, and presumable the brothel madams and flophouse owners from gouging the stranded seamen.

Camilla turned from the porcine woman and headed back over towards the table where Cydric sat nursing a drink.

"No bath," she said mournfully, "the best I could do was a few extra pitches of water in the room." It was difficult to make herself heard over the raw of the crowd and several sailors were already pressing close, recognizable by their tar stained hands and sunburned faces.

"Better than nothing!" she half shouted to Cydric and as she turned her head she caught someone out of the corner of her eye. Camilla had the impression of a beautiful woman with pale watching her from the back of the bar but as she turned her head to see who was regarding her she saw there was no one there. Putting it down to the trick of the crowd she turned back to Cydric.

"We have enough gold for two or three days," She said, leaning close rather than shouting that they had gold, she was already attracting attention from the seedier denizens of the bar but Cydric's presence served to dissuade them.

"We need to find some paying work that dosent involve getting throw of a boat."
@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

The Ostlander wasn't unused to sleeping dirty, but he did feel a tad guilty they'd be messing up a bed doing it. Most of the time he'd sleep on a mat or the ground when serving Ostland. "At least we have a room," he said offhandedly, eyes more on the crowd than Camilla. Their Gold being stolen, and he had to admit, someone eyeing Camilla, had his guard up.

A few rough looking Kislevite lancers were drinking perilously close to their table, laughing and shouting at each other in their guttural tongue. A tired serving wench almost lost her coinpurse and her decency as she served them their drinks, scuttling off as soon as the last pitcher was down.

Off in the corner, a double table was filled by only one muscled Dwarf. A brooding longbeard with a winged helmet and a huge warhammer laying by his hip, drinking what looked to be his 13th beer this night. In contrast, an Elven magician in resplendent robes stood at the bar, showing utter contempt for the selection of drinks and a reluctance for choosing any.

Oddly enough, they seemed to be the least roudy of all of the patrons. Men elbowed one another to get to their tables, which inexorably led to brawls and curses. Cyrdic looked just dangerous enough to keep them from bumping into the table, thankfully. "We could be bouncers," he muttered to her. "This district has a lack of them, it seems."

That wasn't exactly his first choice, but unless they could find a guard position or a free company...
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla was about to comment that no one in their right mind would hire her as a bouncer, when the harried looking looking serving made moved by their table. Without seeming to pause she lay down two earthenware mugs of watery ail and scooped up the too copper pieces Camilla had been planning to use to pay for the drinks. There was an instictive grace to it, like a charlatan who had practiced a coin trick so often that even he couldn't have explained to you how it was done. Camilla sipped at the ale and grimaced.

"Well its a good thing it's cheap," she sighed and suddenly her skin prickled. Moving slowly she shook her head as if in conversation with Cydric. Out of the corner of her eye she again caught sight of the blonde woman. She was almost heart stopping beautiful even clothed in the simple sensible garments of a traveler but despite that the many drunk and amorous patrons of the bar seemed to hardly notice her.

"Cydric," Camila began quietly only to once again be interrupted by a booming voice.

"Camilla? Mios Dios è davvero tu!" Camilla snapped her head around to the opposite direction to see a tall dark man pushing his way through the crowd a dazzlingly white smile spitting his olive skinned face. He was dressed in dark red and grey, nearly black silk with the tight fitting trousers that the aristocracy were favoring these days. A sword, a fine rapier, hung on a belt of dark leather at his waist and he wore the supple leather fencing boots which Tilean duelists preferred.

"Riccardo?" she breathed in stunned surprise as he crossed the room, weaving through the crowd with effortless grace. He caught her in a hug a few moments after she got to her feet and kissed her on each cheek in the Tilean fashion.

"Non posso credere che sia davvero lei, che cosa ha trascorso cinque anni?" he burbled in Tilean. It was surreal to hear her native language spoken after so long in the Empire. Riccardo de Montefeltro was an astonishingly good looking man, with smooth olive skin, dark eyes with a neatly manicured pencil mustache. When last she had known him Riccardo had spent some time modeling for artists of various kinds, but the years had erased the cherubic aspect of him and he had a lean and hungry look about him that made him seem dangerous. The dueling scar across his cheek probably didn't hurt that either.

"Four at least," she responded, switching to Reikspeil for Cydric's benefit. She made a gesture to the table indicating he should join them.

"Cydric this is Riccardo, a..." she trailed off trying to figure out the exact relationship. The other Tilean laughed at her awkwardness.

"An old friend I hope," Riccardo broke in, his Reikspiel completely understandable but more heavily accented than hers.

"Riccardo de Montefeltro, Herr Cydric," the Bravo introduced himself. His dark eyes danced between Camilla and Cydric.

"You are together?" he said with a grin and then bowed his head slightly to Cydric.

"You are a poor bastard, or a lucky bastard, I can no decide," he said with a good natured shrug and thrust his hand out at the Imperial. Camilla sat down beside Cydric her face wearing a bemused smile. Of all the places to run into an old friend.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic had noticed the ethereal woman, too. He leaned over closer to Camilla to get a better look, before a meeting he couldn't have anticipated transpired almost too quickly for him to grasp, and in all honesty it happened so fast Cyrdic wasn't sure he was comfortable with it. Not to say he didn't trust Camilla and her judgements on who to befriend, but still.

To say Cyrdic was nonplussed would be an understatement. He had heard Camilla whisper enough Tilean to where he was beginning to not feel completely lost if he heard it, but he had caught less than half of their conversation before they began to speak in Reikspeil.

When the hand was thrust out for him to shake, he glanced at a bewildered but otherwise happy Camilla, and he decided he wouldn't be the jealous type. "Lucky," Cyrdic replied honestly. Images of the past few months and all of the times they saved one another passed through his head. Cyrdic's handshake was strong, and this Tilean shook his hand to match his strength. If Cyrdic didn't know any better, he would have felt the man didn't want to be shown up in any way. He certainly had the look of someone with an ego.

"It's good to meet a friend of Camilla's" The Northman said and finished the handshake, sitting down next to his companion once more. He smiled, letting Ricardo know he was fine to sit with them. "So what brings you to Marienburg?" He asked, taking one of the closed bottles on the ground (probably knocked off by the Kislevites), popping off the cork to begin and refill their glasses, and fill Riccardo's up if he gestured for it.

The lack of howling from his sword helped keep Cyrdic somewhat at ease. No Chaos taint anywhere near here. Just a rowdy tavern in a bustling city, he told himself...
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla's head was still spinning as Ricardo streched out, leaning back on his chair and allowing Cydric to fill his cup.

"To wives and lovers," he proposed, lifting his cup.

"May they never meet," Camilla completed and they drank down the toast.

"Yes why are you here? Its a long way from Tratino," Camilla inquired eagerly leaning forward to listen to the tale. Ricardo smiled, clearly enjoying the audience. He had changed since she had last met him, he was harder and leaner but the young man she knew was still there. She remembered watching him leap across a wide boulevard from roof to roof with the watch in pursuit, risk his last coin on a turn of the cards. They were pleasant warm memories of the Tilean summer but that seemed very far away.

"It is a long way," Ricardo agreed, "as my ass reminds me to this very moment." He made a theatrical show of rubbing his rump and Camilla couldn't help but snort in amusement even though most of the journey had to have been made by sea. He grinned and then his face grew serious and he leaned in close.

"I have been given a task by the Contessa Di Raiario," he said conspiratorially. Ricardo turned a sidelong glance to Camilla.

"Certamente siamo amanti professionali," he added for her benifit.

"Naturalmente io sottolineo," Camilla nodded her understanding.

"Something very valuable has been stolen from her," Richardo's Tielan accented Reikspiel sounded like it had too many syllables and rendered very valuable closer to berry baluable.

"A piece from her Arabyian collection," he went on. Camilla blinked in shock.

"Maria Di Raiario is one of the foremost collectors of Arabyian artefacts and curios in Tilea," she translated for Cydric. Some of those pieces were solid gold, some were rumored to be from fabled Khemri. They were also supposed to be amongst the most heavily protected collections in the land. Contessa Raiario was a notorious paranoid and kept a small army of mercenaries at her beck and call.

"Tutto questo per un trinket degli amanti? Sembra un po 'molto," Camilla said skeptically, momentarily forgetting that Cydric didn't speak tilean. Ricardo spread his hands as if a fair point had been made.

"There is money Camilla, of course there is money, but you are right. People start wondering how such a thing could be stolen, it wouldn't be a big leap to start asking how the Contessa's new companion might be involved. Dios, If I thought I could manage it I would have just ridden for Pavona or some other place and waited it out." Ricardo took another long drink and Camilla could tell that despite his outward facade the man really was concerned.

"Maybe you too would be interested in helping, like I said there is money," he rubbed his fingers together in emphasis.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic doubted many of his old lads would have taken much from the conversation other than the words 'countess' and 'gold' which granted, was all Cyrdic needed to hear to consider the prospect. The lands of Araby brought to him visions of a place he had never seen before, nor imagined was truly real to his sensibilities. The old quartermaster had told him stories of the place, a land of naught but sand dunes, with islands of city states filled with magic and gold.

Despite himself, he felt a bit of trepidation. If he was being truthful, he'd rather face a bloody skirmish with Norscans than be involved with anything mysterious south of the Old World. But they were in need of money, and Camilla trusted this man. He supposed making dealings with shady contacts in a Marienburg tavern wasn't too far fetched for traveling sellswords like them.

"I'm in," he said bluntly, taking his flagon and draining it with a large swig. His cup 'clapped' onto the table. He didn't realize that Ricardo had been looking more at Cyrdic than Camilla when he offered, as if he expected the woman to be on board.

"Excellent," the Tilean said, his smile wide and almost predatory, showing his teeth. "Remember my friend, this will require a certain subtlety, however..." His accent sounded very much smoother than Cyrdic's rough speech. It was odd to hear a male speaking with such an accent. Ricardo looked to Camilla, to see if she'd vouche for Cyrdic's abilities.

Behind them, an uproarious amount of laughter and hoots came from a few Middenlanders at the bar, and one held his hands up in mock victory as if to rally his fellows to greater heights of revelry.
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla nodded enthusiastically hoping Ricardo would have some of this alleged money upfront. It was a long way to Tilea if he were expecting to get back home before he collected his reward. Richardo looked fairly well heeled though, he must have bought some money with him. Even if he had been living as the Contessa's lover he would have laid some money aside, it was nearly the first thing one did after securing the affections of a patron.

"Cydric can do subtle," Camilla confirmed, he had managed to fool the court of Middenheim after all. Ricardo slammed his cup down on the table in enthusiasm, his smile radiant.

"Da dios piccola uccella, with your help I am sure we can recover it! Listen I'll tell you what I have found so far," the Tilean leaned in, spreading his hands but before he could begin to speak the noise behind him swelled in intensity. Good natured shouts began to devolve into snarls as the Middenlanders collided with the Kislivite contingent. A drink was emptied over one of the northeners and within moments they were on their feet shoving each other. One of the Middenlanders, a burly blonde giant with an eyepatch bought a tankard down on a Kislivite with shattering force, and suddenly the brawl was on.

"Damn it," Camilla sighed, looking around for another exit, but it seemed there would be little option. The men were surging towards them and she barely had time to get to her feet before they crashed into the table, upending it in a spray of watery ale. Ricardo was a fraction slower than she and his chair was kicked out from under him. The Tielan let out an outraged sqwak as he fell onto the straw covered ground, already rolling to avoid being trampled. Before he could right himself a boot caught him in the chest, driving the air from his lungs. Camilla ducked behind Cydric as was her custom, using her friend to avoid being jostled. Consequently she was probably the only person in the bar who saw the blond Middenlander pull a short bladed knife from his sleeve and drive it downward at the prone Ricardo.

Even taken by surprise and winded Ricardo was fast. He grabbed his chair one handed and slammed it upward at the Middenlander the fragile wood splintering under the force of the downward blow. He tried to twist it to disarm the man, a classic duelist trick, but the Middenlander let go of the knife and delivered a stomping kick to the Tilean's stomach, clearly content to stomp the man to death if the easier option were denied to him.

"Cydric!" yelled thrusting her finger towards the scuffle, even as one of the Kislivite's threw a punch at the Ostlander.

@POOHEAD189