[IC] Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

[Penny]

Camilla nodded thoughtfully, sparing a careful glance at Cydric's move to grab his sword. Having grown up in Tilea and immersed in its literature she could understand the allure of a a debt of honor. She touched the big mercenary back comfortingly and then began to gently massage the muscles. It was a bit like trying to massage granite but he seemed not to object. It turned out that a surprising number of courtesan skills were transferable to other situations. She grinned wickedly behind Cydric's back, some of them more transferable than others of course.

"Well as soon as the storm breaks we will be there," she said confidently and peered out into the roiling storm of ice. Northern winters were a thing to behold. In Tilea she had seen snows only on the high mountains but here it seemed to drown the land. It was a marvel the whole world didn't flood when it melted in the spring. Talk of Norscan warriors settled poorly on her mind. She and Cydric had fought their share of the agents of chaos and a onetime champion of Sl...., her mind skipped over the name unconsciously, had once claimed it was her destiny to serve him. That Champion was dead now, is rotting brains blown out with enchanted powder at a hidden keep in the Reikwald. Still... she shifted a little closer to the fire.

"I don't suppose it will do much good when we cant see ten feet infont of us, but why don't I take the first watch?"

___________________________

Morning broke clear and bitingly cold. Camilla climed out of the improvised lean to and was surpsised to discover the outside of the pine branches had been had been completely sheathed in white ice. In fact, the whole world appeared to be coated in a layer of frozen ice. She put her foot down experimentally and felt it crack beneath her boot in a spiderweb that radiated from the pressure point.

"Morning," Cydric called to her from halfway up the canyon. Judging by the cracks in the ice he had clearly been scouting. He tossed her a pair of cold sausages and she snatched them from the air with her gymnasts relexes. The made it out to the road without to much difficulty to find the entire mountain path frozen solid. Fortunately the layer was thin and crunched under foot rather than forming a slippery death trap. In the distance she could see smoke rising above the tree line.

"That must be Kennenburg, we should be there in time for some real breakfast," she said with a smile and a critical glance at the sausage.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic felt Camilla's delicate hand on his shoulder, and moments later he tilted his head and closed his eyes as she massaged him, allowing a small smile on his face. Her fingers eased the tension out of his frame, and as she smiled impishly behind him, it was as if he read her mind because other thoughts began to drift into his own head. Unbeknownst to some, the infamous pair were lovers when they actually had time to relax. Unfortunately, they often did not have that luxury, and this was one of those times. The cold, the strained muscles, and the unknown wilderness were enough to keep them focused on survival above all.

"Wake me if you need me. I won't sleep long," he promised her, and he set himself off the stone to find a relatively flat spot, wrapping his furs around his torso and resting his head along his muscled arm.

When morning dawned and Cyrdic saw Camilla arise, he tossed her the sausage and she deftly caught it as he expected. The Ostlander already had his in his mouth, like a hound who'd just been given a treat to savor. To Cyrdic the white stillness of the woods was a sight he had seen multiple times in his life, and yet he still appreciated its beauty. He wondered how Camilla found it.

About an hour later, they had crested the hill that hid the village of Kennenburg. Cyrdic took a long swig of his waterskin, and handed it to Camilla for her to drink as he took in the view. Down below, the town was a veritable island of civilization in the midst of rock and sparse trees, planted along one of the vast rolling hills that made up the whole of the westerlands. Smoke wafted lazily from small townhouses that were planted ubiquitously between shops and pens where the odd animal resided, most being within the stables to stave off the cold.

"A quaint little place." Camilla remarked, her accent giving her words the sound of 'Ay qu-aint leetal place.' "Not very protected. Are there beastmen here?"

"Most are east of here, in the Drakwald." He said to the Tilean. After a beat, he finished with. "But probably. I've been here once before, years ago."

Unfortunately they had no real bounties or loot in weeks, and they only had small savings with which to live off of. Once they had discovered a vast treasure in the Middle Mountains, uncovered while being hopelessly involved in a war of territory between Night Goblins and the mythical Skaven. Now, they had none of what they had taken still with them, other than a bejeweled crown that Camilla fancied, and to be sold in emergencies.

Luckily, small townships like this were not too expensive, and were more apt to trade rather than charge.

Passing through the limits of the settlement, they could see a few people pulling cattle out of their pens to take outside, and a man with a cauliflower nose smoking a pipe on a chair, heavily clad in a winter coat. The folk here were stocky and hardy like their reikland cousins, but still merely men in the face of harsh winters and brigands.

They managed to find the Inn, aptly labeled 'Traveler's Rest.'
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla go the distinct impression that outsiders were a rarity in Kennenburg. There was a sudden lull as the pair of sellswords stepped into the Traveler's Rest. The tavern itself was a sight familiar the length and breadth of the Empire. Dark wooden beams interspersed with aging flaking plaster, a floor of straw that was cleaned out every so often to keep the smell and the lice to a minimum, a roaring fire in a stone fireplace over which a pot of something hot bubbled perpetually. The place seemed to be doing a fair business already, men and a few women, sat at long wooden benches sipping ale and eating breakfasts which ranged from porridge to bacon, depending on their means. Winter in rural places was a social time, there was nothing to be done in farm and field and the locals tended to pass the time socializing and gossiping.

For an awkward moment there was silence as they collected villagers took in the sight of the two strangers. A quiet amazed whisper broke out as they debated why anyone in their right mind would travel in weather like this. A moment later the unity of the conversation broke down into more general conversation which slowly returned to normal. Camilla unwrapped her face and shook out her hair, earning several speculative glances from men and accompanying scowls from their wives. One young man of twelve or thirteen summers audible gasped but was cuffed over the ear by a well meaning elder.

"Welcome welcome," piped a voice and Camilla turned to see a plump barmaid crossing the floor towards them. She wore a cotton dress with a green wollen apron and had a bust that seemed almost nonsensical. Camilla blinked, the voice seemed too high pitched to have possibly come from so stout a matron.

"Welcome to the Traveler's Rest strangers!" she made a prefunctory curtsey and gestured them down to a bench. Camilla and Cydric allowed themselves to be seated gracefully.

"What will you be having dearies? Ale? Breakfast? A room for the night?" the woman gushed.

"Uhh... all of the above," Camilla replied quietly. The woman seemed to start back.

"Not from around here are you dearie, Bretonnia?" she pronounced the word Bree-ten-yah.

"Tilea, actually," Camilla replied dragging the words out in a deliberate purr that thickened her accent. She pushed forward several silver shillings by way of good faith. THe coins vanished into the apron like a conjurers trick. Few patrons in a place like this would have anything as valuable as actual currency.

"Aint never heard of it," the barmaid replied and hurried off to fetch them ale and some fried eggs.

"So how do you want to start looking for your friend?" Camillia asked Cydric. Her eyes swept around the room, slapping the gazes of gawking onlookers back to their proper business. In the corner of the room she caught the eye of a forbidding looking man in clothing mutch finer than the standard. A sword, nearly as tall as Camilla stood propped against the fireplace beside him. The stranger did not look away as the others had but instead raised a pipe to his lips and drew in a mouthful of the aromatic smoke. His face looked contemplative but Camilla recognized a hard man when she saw one.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

"We'll need to find his sister first," Cyrdic replied, his mind fading back into his early years as a soldier. He knew what part of the township she was in, but he would need to see the house again to fully recognize it. The usual banter of the common room was present, but mostly a low backdrop this day. He had to guess it was because of their sudden appearance. While the men practically dropped their jaws at Camilla, a few of them looked at Cyrdic warily. His rugged face and runic sword made it clear he was either Camilla's husband, escort, or bodyguard. That and the scolding from their women folk made the Tilean a bit less appealing.

The most appealing thing in the room was the eggs and the ale, Cyrdic had to admit. As soon as his ever sensitive nose caught the scent of the blessed aroma, his mouth began to water. He'd always had a large appetite, but these days he seemed to get somewhat unruly if he didn't get a good meal, particularly good meat.

Cyrdic was halfway done inhaling the egg when he felt Camilla nudging him. He closed his mouth to chew, suddenly aware he'd left it open again. Camilla had told him that courtly men don't do that, and while she didn't care, it was good to make good impressions. He almost thought she was going to give a playful 'thwap' across his head before he saw her whisper. "Who is that man?" in a hushed tone. Cyrdic swallowed the egg and looked the man's way for a moment, finding the fellow stared back at him.

"Problem?" The Ostlander challenged after matching gazes for a few moments, drawing a surprised and somewhat frustrated look from Camilla. She had always gone for subterfuge over force, but Cyrdic was a different breed.

"None at all," the man replied, taking a drag from his pipe. He looked a grim sort, if amused by them. "You just seem odd for newcomers. Might I ask your business here?"

"Looking for work." Cyrdic replied non committal. It wasn't technically a lie, because it was always the truth. "What's it to you?"
@Penny

[Penny]

The question hung in the air for a moment as the fellow puffed at his pipe. Camilla rolled her eyes and the man's mouth soured into a frown.

"Yes we get it, dramatic and foreboding, but if it is all the same to you, our breakfast is getting cold," Camilla stated waspishly deliberately turning away from the grizzled looking man. He stood scraping his chair across the rushes and reached into his coat producing a wood and brass icon marked with the Imperial cross.

"I am Thaddeus Von Eikenhouser," he declared coldly, "A duly appointed Justicar of His Imperial Highness Karl Franz."

"Pleased to meet you," Camilla replied in a disinterested tone and took a drink of her ale. Part of her training was in politics and she had spent enough time in the Empire to know of the existence of Justicars. They served as roaming judges for a realm in which many towns had little more than a group of town elders to govern them. Many Justicars were illegitimate children of nobles, although this fellow was clearly not the pimply faced by-blow of an aristocrat.

"So you walked here through a blizzard to find work did you? I am officially curious now," he went on, clearly irritated by the Tilean's non chalant attitude. She nodded her head enthusiastically.

"Thats right," she agreed giving him no room to dissent. His cold suspicious eyes bored into them both and for a moment Camilla thought he might say more but instead he picked up his sword, swung it over his shoulder and stalked out into the winter. Camilla allowed herself a slight grin.

"Friendly man," she commented in her accented Riekspiel before attacking her egg with the edge of her wooden spoon.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

"His charm was no match for yours though." The ex-sergeant remarked. A grin curved on Cyrdic's face at Camilla's snappy dismissal of the Justicar. If Cyrdic had gotten him to leave, it probably would have devolved into something with fists and that didn't seem prudent here. But as always, she solved things with a more delicate touch.

Cyrdic finished his eggs, and grabbed his ale and drained the flagon in three short gulps, before ordering another that he planned on savoring for a time.

The plump woman that served them looked a bit taken aback, and even somewhat marveled at how they treated The Justicar. "You best not be keeping that tone with Thaddeus, lassie." She said in hushed tones, looking back and forth. Cyrdic raised an eyebrow as she continued. "Round here, you argue with him and you might go hungry in the winter. Geoff gave him some lip, and he was sent out on a'countin Thaddeus says he was getting mutations."

"Could that not have been true?"

The woman placed another ale down, her face resolute. "Geoff was a good boy. Sigmar blessed he'd be one o' them mutants. You best hush yourself and you'll need another place to stay."

"I'm sorry, Fraulien." The rugged man said, and he meant it. It was a hard fact of life that men grew mutations and were cast out within the Empire. If it didn't need to be true, why claim it as such? "But we'll get out of your hair after a day or two. Soon as we find a friend of mine."

"Who are you looking for?" She asked, suspicious.

"Eloise Hockendorf sent me a letter a few weeks back."

The Inn keeper grew pale, and then swallowed. Cyrdic tilted his head curiously, and he let her regain her composure, sharing a look with Camilla. "Oh she...she's round at her home. But the Justicar has her on watch. See her brother's a wanted man, and under suspicion of witchcraft, that he is. If you're here to see Elly, you best be ready for trouble."

"Where does she live?"

The woman sighed, seeing she wasn't going to dissuade them. "Fine, she's at the northeast end of town. But if you cause trouble, you'll find no rooms here, understand?"
@Penny

[Penny]

They took their time finishing breakfast but conversation limited by the uncomfortable atmosphere in the tavern. Whatever the towns people's opinion of the Justicar was, mention of the Hockendorf's chilled the reception instantly. Suspicious looks were cast at them and they muttered in small groups.

It was a relief to get out into the icy winter air and they made their way through the town. It was a fairly handsome place with tall sloping rooves and gently curving streets. Sheets of ice covered most surfaces which gave the whole place something of a magical air. The thought of magic sent a shiver through Camilla that had nothing to do with the cold. After a few minutes they rounded a corner to find a knot of men standing before a small neat cottage. Smoke trailed lazily from the chimney but the shutters on the windows were closed. Dark stains on the timber showed where vegetables and other missiles had been hurled. The word WITCH was scrawled across the white plaster of the front wall.

"Charming," Camilla whispered to Cydric. THe big Ostlander had been quiet since receiving the news about his friend. SHe slipped her hand in his and squeezed comfortingly. As they approached the men stirred to action shaking out in a lose line. They were all pinch faced and sallow looking and they carried an assortment of improvised weapons ranging from clubs to bill hooks.

"What is your business with the chaos lover!" the leader, a weazily looking man with pockmarks on his face demanded. Planting himself belligerently before Cydric. Camilla let of his hand and shifted back and to the left, a customary position that allowed her to cover Cydric's back if things went poorly. The thugs misinterpreted the guesture and smiled in triumph, thinking that the Tilean Brava had been intimidated into retreating.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Her comforting hand squeeze calmed him down somewhat, but he hardened his resolve and clenched his jaw when he saw the mob and the writing on the wall. As soon as Camilla stepped back, his hand curled into a fist. The ugly man that was talking to him drew his baleful gaze.

"First tell me your business here." Cyrdic replied, to which the man seemed confused until he screeched. "Chaos lovers deserve cleansing by fire!"

"I agree." Cyrdic said. "Good thing there's no Chaos worshipers here. Now step aside. I have business within."

Cyrdic towered over the man, but to the fanatic's credit, he didn't step back in fear. He merely grinned wickedly, taking a step forward as the crowd around him grew bolder and began throwing whatever they had on hand that wasn't a hand weapon. The leader spoke next. "Are you threatening me? A newcomer and his foreign whore come to visit a witch. Perhaps I shouldn't bother the Justicar. Say I take care of you MYSELF."

Within the blink of an eye, a dagger appeared out of the folds of his furs and he struck, quick as a viper. It was too quick and too unannounced for Cyrdic to block with his sword, so instead as the man drew back his knife, Cyrdic simply punched forward with his free hand. His fist connected with the man's face, and his head snapped back.

The crowd grew silent for a moment, before they surged forward with an assortment of farming impliments as weapons, even with fear in the eyes. That is, until Cyrdic knelt down and picked up the prone leader, hauling him up and tossing him into half a dozen of them and drawing his sword in the same fluid motion. Behind him, he heard Camilla cock a pistol.

They drew back, muttering among themselves. Some still looked to be debating on if attacking was the right thing, but as the other drifted away, they felt it was too risky. Cyrdic held his sword out until they all left, and then sheathed it once more, glancing to Camilla to make sure she was ok.

"Cyrdic?" A voice called from the house, disbelief evident. He turned to see the Golden haired Eloise, as petite and kind hearted as ever, a bruise on the side of her face. "I didn't think you'd come."
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla watched the fanatics slinking away but kept her pistol drawn until the last one of them disappeared into an alley with a final hateful glower. She eased the hammer forward with a soft click and tucked the small weapon back into her belt. Kennenburg was proving to be full of unpleasant surprises. There was obviously alot of fear in a village and that was dangerous with people cooped up by the winter weather.

"Please come in, quickly, they will be back," Eloise hastened and gestured them through the door. She was an attractive woman, although hard living had aged her faster than might normally have been the case. SHe had a fine figure and long golden hair that was secured in braids. The stress of the situation was evident in her face however in the bruises and sunken eyes. Camilla could tell that she had been crying. They hurried quickly down the path and into the door taking care to wipe the snow off their boots before crossing the threshold. Eloise gave Camilla a quizzical glance but didn't comment at the other woman's presence.

The interior of the cottage was neat and tidy with handsome homemade furniture and burnished copper pots hanging on the walls. There were only two rooms, the kitchen area they were in now and a separate door that lead to a bedroom in which two feather matressess stood. A large wooden table with a half prepared stew of vegetables and venison was being prepared.

"Oh Cydric, I'm sorry to have dragged you into this," Eloise half sobbed. She sat down heavily on a chair and pulled a lace hankerchief from her apron and dabbed at her eyes.

"You too..." she trailed off with a glance in Camilla's direction. Camilla smiled her professional smile and offered a slight courtly bow to the woman.

"I am Camilla de la Trantio," she said, smiling with amusement as Eloise brow furrowed. Her Riekspiel was good enough most of the time but a sentence with only her name was a challenge for the uninitiated.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

"Camilla..." Eloise said, trying to pronounce her name right. She bit her tongue and looked to Cyrdic curiously. "Is she with you?"

Cyrdic nodded, and Eloise smiled after a moment. "Good. You need someone to make sure you're safe." She said, giving the top of his hand a squeeze before turning to Camilla. "It's nice to meet you fraulien. Ulric knows Cyrdic needed someone. He's always getting himself into dangerous situations."

Cyrdic had to force his mouth to stay shut. He'd never gotten into half the trouble that Camilla did. Then again, it was one of the many reasons he fell for her. She drove him up the wall in a way he found addicting. He guessed that was just the tireless adventurer in him.

"El, what happened?" He prompted, forcing a subject change. Despite her words, she looked to Cyrdic as if he was the only real safety in the world.

"Karl left a week ago, going northward. He'd...he'd been acting strange the last month. I wrote you because I knew you'd come here and talk some sense into him. But he is gone already." At the prompting of Cyrdic, she elaborated. "After my husband passed, Karl decided to stay with me and...he'd be having these dreams. I would hear him calling Gunter's name in his sleep. And then there was an episode...a waking nightmare he had one day when we were walking. Someone got the Justicar but I managed to get Karl away before the man could do anything to him. But...Karl's eyes had gone white and his voice wasn't his own..."

Tears began to well in up Eloise's eyes, and it softened Cyrdic's expression. He gave an understanding nod, and she stood up and threw her arms around him, sobbing terribly. Despite Cyrdic's surprise and his reluctance to hold her with any familiarty, he knew Eloise was now alone in this world. He hugged her and looked passed her into Camilla's eyes, a look of hardened, stoic sorrow filled his eyes, but in a flash it was gone. Cyrdic had a large sense of adventure and youth, but he was a hard man when the situation called for it. Even hearing of his friend's predicament.
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla watched the byplay without comment, thinking on the situation. The stigmata of mutation was a real and terrifying risk across the known world. If Karl's eyes really had gone white, then there was little they could do for him. Most mutants started out as horrified by the changes that they manifested as anyone else, but whether by a twisting of the soul or the constant threat of exposure, they all fell to chaos in the end. The teaching on mutants was dogmatic but had only one constant. Suffer not the Tainted to live.

"You should leave signorina," Camilla counseled her, moving quietly to one of the shuttered windows.

"I... I can't leave everything I have is here," Eloise almost wailed. Camilla peered through the wooden shutters out into the street. Young men were straggling down towards the house, lead by the group they had driven away a few minutes ago.

"Even if you survive this," Camilla said gently, "the next time there is a crop failure, or plauge or bad luck, they will turn on you." She shared a long glance with Cydric.

"We have seen it often enough." In the street the men began to mutter among themselves, voices raising as they drew encouragement from each other. Several appeared to be grabbing piece of rotten fruit, others were opting for loose stones to throw. The cry of witch rang from first one throat and then another. Within a minute the whole crowd was chanting WITCH WITCH WITCH! and the shutters began to ring with improvised missiles.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic pushed Eliose to arm's length and nodded. "We'll get you to the next town and help you. But right now we need to go, ok?" He looked into her eyes, making sure she understood. He saw tears still streaming down her face, but she nodded after a moment. Cyrdic gave a small smile to ease her.

"Let me get a few of my things..." She said. Slowly, she stood up and the disappeared into the back rooms. Cyrdic let out a frustrated breath from his nose, and turned to Camilla.

"I almost long for a beastman's axe." He admitted. Before Camilla could comfort him, an uneasy silence materialized. As if the crowd outside disappeared.

It was a knock and a voice at the door that solved that mystery, those of the Justicar Thaddeus. "Open up, or face the wrath of the Emperor and Sigmar himself." He called. "I have business with you two, and the woman within!"

Cyrdic cocked his pistol, the aged one he kept just in case. pointing it at the door. His voice was harsh and commanding, demanding an answer. "How do we know you don't lead that mob out there?"

"If I did, the door would be knocked down, rather than knocked upon." The Justicar said. "But I will hear your explanations and the truth of this matter, or you will face the noose!"

Eloise had just stepped into the room, her eyes wide as saucers as she clutched a few scant items. A blanket, a runic necklace, and what looked to be a very old ceremonial dagger. Cyrdic glanced Camilla's way, prompting her to be ready when the door opened. "Fair enough." Cyrdic called. He stepped forward, pistol at the ready as he placed his hand on the doorknob, slowly opening the door.
@Penny

[Penny]

The the Justicar, Von Eikenhouser, stepped through the door. His looming frame filled the room and his greatsword hung across his back. He glanced at Camilla and down at the pistol nonchalantly leveled at his belly. It was clearly too tight quarters for the greatsword but he had just as clearly not come to fight. He turned in the doorway and yelled back at the mob.

"This is not justice! No one will be condemed before the facts are known!" The mob seemed to grumble in dissaporval at this but several men took a step back and lowered thier improvised weapon. Turning he fixed a harsh glare at Camilla.

"Threatening the life of a Justicar is a capital crime woman," he glowered. Camilla pulled the hammer back on her small dueling pistol.

"I'm sure that will be an interesting legal discussion mien herr. Of course I guess I will be having it with the Justicar sen't out to aprhend me for your murder." The big imperial laughed harshly at the threat.

"I suppose there is that Frauline, assuming I'm not fast enough to disarm you of course."

"I am willing to bet your life on it Mien Herr," she said sweetly.

"Enough, please, I'm innocent, I'm not a witch," Eloise almost wept. The Justicar looked at the bundle of possession in her hands. His expression hardened.

"An innocent preparing to flee the village in the company of two strange mercenaries no one has lain eyes upon before? Explain yourself woman, and be convincing, lest I am force to appeal to the mob."

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

"We were fleeing because of the mob." Cyrdic said, his face hard set and grim, just begging for the Justicar to try and harm Camilla or Eloise in his presence. The two men matched stares for many moments, before Cyrdic realized the Justicar's ego would add weight to his paranoia, and he wouldn't back down. With a force of will, the Ostlander calmed himself.

"You were right." he admitted, standing down and lowering his weapon. Thaddeus seemed a bit surprised at such a proclamation, his brow narrowed and his visage suspicious. "What do you mean? Explain."

"My friend, Karl. I came to see him. He..." Cyrdic had a hard time admitting such a thing. To admit something so heinous was against his Imperial sensibilities. "He has been touched by Chaos. He's received a vision in daylight, as you know. He fled to the North, close to Nordland. I served with him in the Nordland campaigns and I know the area where he goes. We are to find him and save him if we could. If we can't..."

Eloise shivered, unable to bear the thought. The Justicar leveled his gaze at Cyrdic, trying to find an ulterior motive to his confession.

"But Eloise is guilty of nothing but a love for her brother. We're taking her to the next town so she isn't harmed. If you don't get out of our way, we'll kill you and everyone else that dare's try to stop us."

The wolfish, bestial stare Cyrdic portrayed was brutal, but to the Justicar's credit, he did not flinch. In fact, after a moment he let out a light chuckle, as if the thought he could be killed by them was absurd. He saw the wisdom in not pushing his luck, however. "I could hang you for simply uttering those words." Thaddeus declared, though he sheathed his firearm as well. "But surprisingly, I believe you."

The room didn't seem to relax, but the air had a marked drop in danger. "But I can't allow you to leave here without supervision." he said, giving all three of them a level stare. "And so I am going with you. To see his Majesty Karl Franz's will is done."

---

2 days later

The snow lazily drifted out of the sky, catching every fold of clothing or stray hair. Cyrdic's breath was visible, billowing out like an Imperial steam tank. Pulling his cloak around him tighter, he gazed at the wooded hills that led eastward. Thaddeus and Camilla stood next to him, having finished taking a small meal. It was this very morning they had dropped off Eloise in Velkanburg. The woman had given Cyrdic a necklace of Karl's, and she had given Camilla her hankerchief for good luck.

"Lead the way." The Justicar ordered, questioning yet again why he chose to go on this venture out in the cold, where the beastmen roamed. For all of his bravado and steeled looks, Justicars were not in their element in such wilds. He had a hidden look of fear in his eyes.

"It won't be long." Cyrdic said as they moved forward down the hillock. "If we keep moving, we'll be there before nightfall."

[POOHEAD189]

@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla pulled her cloak tightly around her body. The wind whipped down of the eastern hills cold and slightly sour with some unidentifiable scent. Since meeting Cydric she had spent her fair share of time out in inclement weather but in her heart she never really grew used to it. From her point of view it would be much better to be passing the worst of the winter storms in the south, perhaps in Brettonia or among the Border Princes. Worst case in the taverns of Altdorf of Nuln, although that would have taxed their dwindling coin to the breaking point.

"C'era una volta un becchino che aveva una brutta moglie," she said to Cydric in her flowing Tilean. The Ostlander nodded thoughtfully at the words and responded in a mix of Tilean words and appropriately sounding nonsense sylables. Cydric knew some Tilean but could say little beyond conversational basics. Camilla giggled as though he had told a joke. The game was designed to make the Justicar, who did not speak Tilean, uncomfortable and judging by the restrained glare it was working.

Camilla was about to open her mouth and recite some poetry when she caught sight of something on the distant ridgeline.

"Cydric," she breathed and pointed at what she had at first taken for a misshapen tree. Silouteed black against the gathering darkness was a figure on horseback. At this distance it looked human, although Camilla wasn't willing to bet money on that. The figure seemed to know it had been spotted for it turned and vanished behind the distant rise. For a fleeting moment Camilla thought she caught he sound of laughter on the wind.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic only recognized the Tilean words for 'their' and 'gravedigger.' Past that, he was lost, but he saw the glint in her eyes and knew what was going on. He couldn't help but grin, and pulled his cloak a bit tighter. Even a Northlander like he felt a bit cold in this biting winter.

"Cyrdic" Camilla said, tugging his sleeve. He followed her finger toward the distant hilltop. His eyes were good, but Camilla's eyesight was always as keen as a blade. He could have sworn the figure looked their way and smiled, laughed even, though it was so far off he had no way to prove it. The Justicar looked at them with an infuriating and confused look, drawing a pistol. "Who is that? Is it him?" Thaddeus asked.

The Ostlander shook his head, pulling his cloak tighter once more. But not for the cold. "That was not Karl." he said grimly.

They moved onwards, heading down the hill carefully. There was no ice visible, but it still paid well to tread lightly as they descended, and then once the ground was even, the three found they had entered the sparse woods. Camilla's ghost was just up ahead when it had disappeared, the ubiquitously placed trees crooked under the weight of the snow upon their canopies. What bushes there had been were now leafless, gnarled claws.

As they reached the crest of the small hill, beyond they would see more of the same. Except obscured by the snow filled tops of trees, now below them.

"Cyrdic, I-" Camilla began, stepping forward before slipping on ice. On instinct he caught her before she could fall, his back now turned to the way they faced. "You ok?"

"We need to get a move on." The Justicar began to order. It was just at that moment when a wickedly barbed arrow escaped the decline and banged off Cyrdic's Norscan Shield, right along where he had strapped it on his back. The arrow spun in mid air and fell upon the snow. Cyrdic and Camilla shared a look, before the Ostlander yelled. "Down!" And covered Camilla with his body as a dozen arrows were loosed. Half of them flew wide, the archers poor aims. Thaddeus had taken refuge behind an oak, and the other missiles were either buried in the snow or bounced off Cyrdic's shield.

What followed was a bestial roar along with the echoes of an insane laughter. Cyrdic peeked out from under his shield in time to see beastmen loping up the hill, armed with axes and spears. Most of them were small, about a Dwarf's height and not nearly as wide. But some were mansized and white furred, with the heads of horses and oxen.
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla tasted blood in her mouth from where she hit the snow, sucking on her lip she scrabled on the ice till she found purchase and pulled herself up behind a tree. She needed have bothered concering herself with cover because it seemed like the enemy had decided that one volley was enough distraction from the real sport. The charged down the slope, hooves kicking up snow as the came on brandishing crude weapons red with rust and blood.

Rising to a crouch she pulled both pistols from her belt and leveled them. She shot the first enemy, an elk headed dwarfish thing, through the right eye, its head snapping back with a clack as the finely made pistol roared. The second shot, right handed and less accurate blew a gout of arterial blood from the neck of a second attacker. It made a gurgling bray as it staggered forward a few feet before tumbling into the snow. With no time to reload she dropped both pistols to the ground and drew her rapier with a crisp ring of steel.

Beside her the Justicar had unslung his great sword and made an experimental figure eight, whipping the great sword through the air with a speed that made the crip air sing. A half dozen stride before they reached her Camilla sprang forward in a cat like pounce, dropping under the blow of an ax and sweeping a spear point up and away with a precise parry. Drawing her weapon back she thrust into the belly of another of the creatures before spinning gracefully away from its companions blow. The stench of the things was incredible, damp fur and animal filth mixed with fungus and rotting milk. Open sores and buboes covered the wretched things. @POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic decided to keep his shield strapped to his back to block warding blows, grabbing his wolf-hilted longsword and charging down the slope as fast as he was able in such deep snow. While Camilla ducked and dodges and riposted to his left, Cyrdic took the center. His aim was at the man sized Gors charging up the hill. A particularly large one wielded a wicked moon-bladed axe, the hilt made of human skin.

A smaller ungor was more nimble and quick however, running past his kin in an attempt to skewer Cyrdic with a well timed spear thrust. The Ostlander simply grabbed the haft of the spear once the beastman had stabbed forward, and he chopped the spear in two with strength that baffled the smaller mutant. Cyrdic did not halt his momentum, bowling over the dumbfounded beastman and snapping its back on his heavy boot, before his sword met the axe in a shower of sparks.

Thaddeus made a good accounting for himself, initially. His greatsword had incredible reach and a fine edge, which he used to cut two smaller beastmen in half, and kept a larger one at bay as he weaved the blade back and forth. As Cyrdic lopped the head off of the Beastman he was fighting, he turned around to see the beastmen that had passed him bearing down on Thaddeus. The Ostlander quickly gained on them, and the first beastmen he caught unawares, he ran through.

Fighting Chaos for years gave Cyrdic a particular hatred for such creatures, and his sword nudged him even further. With a satisfied grimace, Cyrdic twisted the blade inside the creature's side, and then yanked it out, igniting a terrible sucking noise as its blood spilled onto the already reddening snow. Thaddeus used the distraction to finish one of the Gors. "For Sigmar and his Imperial majesty!" he cried.

Cyrdic grabbed the back of the last beastman's head, yanking it back as he drove his boot dagger into the beast's jugular. "For the Empire!"

The beastman fell, and the two men were left breathing heavily. Camilla gave a curse in Tilean, but she seemed unharmed. A sudden, unnatural laughter broke the silence like a shattered glass, and Cyrdic snapped his head round to see.

But there was no one there.
@Penny

[Penny]

It was a brutal night for a cold camp. Camilla pulled her cloak tightly around her body. It had seemed excessive when Cydric suggested the fur lined garment but now it seemed to be hardly enough to keep the icy wind from freezing her solid. The skirmish with the beastmen and their unseen master had cost them valuable time and they had decided not to risk pressing on to the tomb through the darkness. Thaddeus had seemed ready to object but the sight of Camilla methodically thrusting her rapier into the throat or eye of each fallen beastman had been enough to quiet him. None of them had been shamming, but bitter experience had taught her that it was best to make sure.

Fortunately Cydric, who had been here in his earlier campaigns, remembered seeing a ruined windmill on one of the nearby hilltops. The structure was mostly collapsed but the wall around the ground floor was pretty much intact, giving some shelter from the tearing icy wind. What remained of the second floor was in much worse repair, time and weather having tumbled down most of the stone wall, but it did provide an ideal vantage point for a look out. With beastmen in the area a fire was out of the question and so they had to pass the night with only body heat and their own garments to shelter them.

Camilla, as was traditional, took the second watch and so found herself crouching behind the low stone wall and looking out over the sparely wooded hills for any sign of beastmen sneaking through the darkness. Cydric usually seemed to have a sixth sense for when creatures of chaos were about, but one could never be too careful. The Tilean tried very hard not to think about black fletched arrows sailing out of the darkness or arcane spells that might silence her before she could give a warning but took a little comfort that her body falling from its precarious position on one of the old oaken rafters would certainly waken her companions if she was killed.

An hour or so into her watch she caught sight of it. A gleam of greenish light on the northen horizon. At first she thought it might have been the aurora. Ivan Petrovich, a big Kislivite they had crossed paths with several times, had told stories of the strange lights in the sky many times. As she squinted at the distant light though, she realized she was in error, the light was at ground level and it was coming closer. For the hundredth time she promised herself she would buy a proper Tilean spy glass the next time she had a few pieces of silver to spare.

Although she knew she should wake the others, something held her in place as she watched the light coming closer. The night was clear as only cold northern winters could be and she could see clearly for a long way. With a gasp she realised what she was seeing. It was men, distant man shaped figures marching in a long column along the shores of a far off lake. They seemed to be made out of some sort of greenish ethereal light, almost mist like as they glided along the ground. Banners hung above the translucent effigies, still despite the snapping night breeze that brought tears to her eyes the longer she stared. As she watched ghostly horses ranged out bearing what would have been scouts in an army of the flesh.

“Myrmidia…” she breathed and finally managed to break her paralysis, slipping gracefully down to where the two men slept. Grabbing Cydric’s shoulder she gently shook him awake.

“There is something out there,” she whispered as his eyes fluttered open.
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