[IC] Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

[POOHEAD189]

He scooted over so she had room, for one of the desks stood just left of him. His pistol he'd opened up to dry was to his right, though far away from the fire for obvious reasons. "Don't let the Scars fool you," he told her. "I'm not always covered in dirt and blood. Just more than I'd like." He smiled, his eyes now closed again.

Her explanation seemed sound. Even as tiredness overtook him, a few years of serving on campaign made him a good, alert listener despite his body language screaming the opposite. "Looks like you have it all figured out, your Ladyship. Cam, sorry." He breathed. He corrected himself. "Camilla." He paused for a moment, and then thought aloud. "Yeah, that's a sign I'm sleepy. Just make sure you wake me up the second you want to sleep, deal?"

Minutes later, he'd fallen asleep. His sleeping pattern was a huge contradiction. Either he slept far too lightly, or he slept like a rock. Depended on his circumstances. One would think traveling as an outlaw would have him sleep lightly and at the ready, but the safety of the 'tomb' they were in, the pretty woman beside him, the fire, and most importantly...the lack of any military cohesion, had knocked him out cold.
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla did her best to stay awake while Cydric slept. It proved far more difficult than she imagined, the enervating effect of the rain, the warmth of the small fire and just the familiar security of being indoors conspired to make her drowse.

The third time she started to doze off she took action. Pushing herself to her feet she took the waterskins from the pack and filled them from the guttering run off that the rain cascaded down the walls of the defile. That accomplished she scouted around the room, careful to keep quiet. Opening one of the chests she found nothing but ancient desicated mould and cob web. The second one was more fruitful. Inside the ancient and ornate box was some mouldering silk clothing, a helmet of some odd silvery metal and a pair of daggers, with intricate gold wire hilts that sparkled with inlayed precious stones. She held the daggers in the air, allowing the gold to sparkle in the firelight. The blades had an odd geometric curve to them which seemed in keeping with the flowing carving. They must be worth a fortune.

"Ranald be praised," she murmured in wonder, before tucking the weapons into her belt. She considered the helmet for a minute and was about to put it back when an idea struck her. Taking the helmet back to the fire she upended it an poured some water into it, sluicing away the dirt. She added some more water and settled the helmet into the fire as a improvised cooking pot. A few pieces of jerky and she had an improvised soup cooking. It was a shame there would be no vegetables.

Eager to see what other loot their might be in the strange room Camilla began to scout the edges. She took a burning chair leg to serve as an improvised torch. On the far side of the room she found an oddly asyemetric opening, that led to what seemed to be a hall. As the light fell across the blackness she heard a slight skittering and there was a sudden intense smell that she couldn't place. A sense of danger and foreboding flooded through her and she took a convulsive step backwards. Something hurtled out of the darkness at incredible speed, pain exploded through her chest and she had a momentary impression of fur, claws and gleaming red eyes. She was airborne for a moment and then she slammed into one of the stone statues and there was only blackness.

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic groaned, and rolled over. He was within the impasse between awake and asleep. Most people immediately fell asleep straight away once more, but something in reality grabbed him, pulling him into consciousness. The rain still beat down outside, but there was another sound that filled his ears. It was water as well, but there was something... He breathed in through his nose. He smelled cooked meat, and something far more rancid, though the smell was elusive.

He opened his eyes to an over boiling pot. What, by Taal? He pushed himself upwards, and let out another groan as he reoriented himself. Quickly, he got up when he realized the urgency of the pot, and he kicked it over to spill onto the ground, away from the fire with a clatter. "Camilla?" He called, spinning. He didn't yell, merely spoke the name aloud. But the 'tomb' was small enough for anyone to have heard that. If they were still there, that is.

Something was wrong. That smell...it was coming from deeper within. He knelt down and picked up one of the pieces of kindling, a flame at its end. He approached the back end of the room, and spoke her name aloud once more. The sight of the door leading further inwards made him realize just what she'd done. "Damn," he muttered, hurrying back to pick up his weapons and armor. Strapping them on, he cocked his pistol and held aloft his brand once more, entering into the dark in pursuit.

---

Grabrat the Lurker and his two slaves had tied the manthings hands behind its back. He had almost squirted the musk of fear when they had entered, for he thought it had been a burly Orc or Troll. What a man-thing was doing in here, Grabrat didn't know. Better to let Clan leader Niprend question them, yes yes. Besides, one Skavenslave needed to haul the warpstone they had found, its chaos energy safe in the bottle they carried. It gave an eerie glow.

But this man-thing was so heavy! Even with his other Skaven slave, it was awkward carrying the man-thing. They had only gone into the next cavern when they decided that was best. Grabrat's tail twitched, and he smacked Camilla on the head. "Ugly man-thing, up up!"
@Penny

[Penny]

Awareness returned in a stomach churning wave of nausea. Something was striking her around the face and she instinctively tried to raise her hands to ward of the blows only to find them lashed behind her body. She managed a weak groan as her groggy mind sought to parse the disparate information her nerves were screaming at her.

"Up!up!" Someone chittered at her in a language that she realized after several more blows was supposed to be Reikspiel. Realization burst like a mortar shell and she opened her moth and screamed with pure atavistic terror. Every Tilean child had heard horror stories of the rat men who haunted the swamps. A thousand half remembered horror stories came crashing home in a moment of pure distilled terror.

Things became confusing for the next several moments as blows rained down on her, driving the wind from her lungs. Something that tasted like rancid lambs wool was thrust between her lips and her mouth forced open. Sharp talons seized her tongue and yanked if forward. The taste of rusted steel filled her mouth as a blade was pressed to her face.

"It shuts its mouth or it loses its tongue!" Shrieked one of the ratmen. Camilla froze in place. A moment later the monster let her free and she sagged to the ground.

For an indeterminate amount of time they marched her into the darkness. She tried to think tried to plan but the best she could come up with was dragging one of her feet to leave a faint trail of scuff marks. Admittedly that plan relied on Cydric being alive and insane enough to come looking for her.

As the moved deeper into the tunnels the weird green glow intensified as did the musky stench. They passed several more eyeless statues, each covered in more graffiti than the last before finally emerging into a great hall. Beautifully fluted columns soared into the blackness and a hundred sets of red gleaming eyes turned to gaze on the new comers.

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic had knelt down in the ominous corridor, having noticed dust particles floating about as if someone had just passed through here not minutes prior. A statue had been completely devoid of dust at its front, and there were drag marks across the ground. He reached out and felt his fingers along the ground, making sure he was seeing what he thought. "She's been here," he whispered. The implications of that escaped him until his world was pierced by an echoeing scream.

He recognized the voice, and his heart skipped a beat. "Shit," and hurried off further down the corridor until he reached splitting caverns. "Sigmar, Taal, if any of you are watching..." he intoned, but didn't know what he would pray for. Her being alive? Him finding her? Helping him live? All of the above sounded good, and for a moment he felt like turning back. But he was as stubborn as a Dwarf, and he'd be damned if he ran from a fight.

Scrabbling from down the right cavern caught his attention, and he peered into the darkness, fully expecting to find some horror of the deep. But soon it faded, as if whatever it was had gone the opposite way. He held his pistol out, and continued down the cavern. He noticed the scuff marks upon the ground, and it allowed him to breathe somewhat easily, knowing this was the right direction. Down the cavern went, and then up, and then there was another split. He growled like a hound a bay. The caverns this far seemed to be too used to travel to have any sort of dust. He decided to go left this time.

---

Grabrat and his two slaves had passed the threshold of the Underentrance, the Grandhall before them one of the forward outposts and base of operations for their continued war with the Goblinkin. He snorted and sniffed the air, yanking on Camilla's tied hands by a rope impatiently. "Quick quick, lower yourself pathetic man-thing!" he screeched in command.

The chittering had died down, over six dozen clan skaven and a dozen stormvermin stood in attendance for the announcements of the forward leader Niprend. A larger skaven with silver tufts of fur on his back. He stood upon the raised platform, and behind him was a beautifully crafted throne of brass and mithral, with elven, wooden armrests.

Grabrat knelt down before Niprend, holding out his beady paws to present this gift to him. "What is the meaning of this?" Niprend demanded, wondering why they would dare interrupt his orders for the presentation of-...a man-thing?

"A thousand apologies, glorious Clan leader! My slaves and I found this man-thing skulking in one of the outer tunnels as we scouted. We snatched him up quick-quick to bring her to your attention. She could be a spy for the man-things, or a trick by the Goblin-things. Better to question her, yes?"

Niprend bared his teeth, and Grabrat slunk back. Though the Clan leader did consider it to be prudent advice, there had to be intimidation to keep anyone from interrupting him again. "You are lucky I do not eat your heart! Fool, can you not see this is a man-thing breeder!?" Niprend cried, but then conceded internally, eyes beady and lingering on Camilla. Luckily for her, there were three lit torches. Though in such a vast room, it still left much of it obscured.

Yes...Niprend would question her, and then eat her.

Above her was the balcony, and unbeknown to the Skaven, an Ostlander had just made it up the stairs...
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla followed little of the exchange between the Skaven, their language to debased to be recognizable. It wasn't as though there were a lot of happy outcomes they might be discussing in any case. One of the shaven snapped its chisel like fangs within inches of her face and she cringed back, which seemed to be the desired result. Whatever her eventual fate was to be, was evidently forestalled as she was thrust roughly into a cage made of lashed together lengths of wrought iron. Belatedly she realised they must once of have been elegant gates of some kind, cannabilized by the rat men for their own use.

She landeded heavily among a pile of filthy rags whose purpose she could not discern. For a few minutes she simply sat weeping quietly, too overcome with terror to think. These things would torture her, she was sure, the stories always lingered on maps made of human skin and twisted bodies impossibly alive despite their agony. STOP IT she commanded herself. You will not die here! The thought gave her a measure of relief, although she wasn't sure if she completely believed it. If she wasn't going to die than she needed to escape this place. That seemed impossible, there was no way to make it through the sea of vermin, and even if she could she could never outrun them to the surface.

First thing was first, all the impossible objects could come later. With little need to feign tears she lay down in the filthy rags and sobbed quietly. Attention seemed to be away from her in the moment in favor of some other argument between some of the larger rat things. Camilla had been trained as a child in the arts of acrobatics, the better to please potential clients. It wasn't much of a skill to throw up against murderous monsters from nightmare, but she needed to start somewhere. Slowly she steadied her breathing and began to rotate her shoulder. It was an old trick, the sort of thing kids did to make each other squirm, but with slow deliberation she dislocated her shoulder and slid her arm awkwardly over her head. It hurt alot more than she remembered it doing, but she kept lithe with a daily regime of stretches and it didn't do any real damage. With a faintly audible pop she slipped her shoulder back into joint. With her hands now infront of her she began to work at the knot that bound them.

While she worked the Skaven grew more agitated. There was a sound from the tunnels behind the hall, visible through the dim light and much cruder than the elven workmanship. Something was coming up from below. Quickly she tore the Skaven's knot free. Knot work was another skill of hers from more congenial times that was proving to be surprisingly useful. The daggers she had tucked into her belt were still there, unnoticed amongst Cydric baggy shirt. Instead of reaching for them she put her hands back behind her body and looped the disgusting rag she had been bound with around her wrists, giving the appearance she was still confined.

Madame Ritizaoli would be proud.
@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

The Balcony he was on was now covered in filth, but it looked to have been used by nobility when it had been in service. Various lengths of rope lifted into the darkness above, still hanging limply, swaying by the soft breezes that flowed from within the various cavern entrances.

"What in the Old World," Cyrdic breathed as he gazed downward, from above. He'd never read or seen a play by Detlef Sierck, but from what he'd heard, this fit the scene to one of his more foreboding works. Dozens of what he could only tell were Beastmen were scuttling to and fro, chittering what sounded like orders to his trained ears. Most of them seemed lightly clad with nothing but daggers and short swords, or crude spears for weapons. However there was roughly a dozen with partial plate armor, and wicked looking halberds. One rat had a contraption that Cyrdic had never seen before. The room they found themselves in was vast and looming, a true Greathall of Old.

He saw Camilla thrust into a cage, and he stifled a groan. He was glad he'd found her, but the fearful side of him knew that there was no backing down now, seeing her alive. He didn't know why he was afraid, after all. These rat beastmen were smaller than he, and he'd fought Norscan berserkers not a year previous. He guessed it was the fact he was outnumbered and alone in the dark. Yeah, no big deal.

Suddenly, two large reverberations split the scene, and the rats froze for an instant. One of the lesser doors from the Caverns suddenly burst open, rock flying out as Cyrdic saw a terrifying Troll enter the hall. Behind the Troll, smaller green figures cried out in what he could only guess was a warcry, and the room erupted in screeches and violence.

The strange contraption the back rat had been setting up was now placed upon his body, a suit of armor encompassing his furry form. He aimed what looked to be a rifle, and multicolored liquid fire spewed out of its barrel to melt the flesh from five charging Goblins.

On instinct, Cyrdic dropped his torch below. The falling brand struck a clanrat on the head, and it scrabbled the brand off, only for the Beast to be landed on by nearly two hundred pounds of Ostlander, having slid down one of the ropes. Cyrdic was only four paces from Camilla, but he was suddenly surrounded by a melee he had to give his full attention on. He aimed his pistol at the beast that held the firethrower, and discharged his firearm.

The bullet struck its backpack, and the beast desperately tried to pry it off before it exploded in wildfire, immolating dozens of rats and Goblins. Good, illuminated more of the room, he thought pragmatically. Cyrdic had immediately holstered his pistol and unsheathed his broadsword, hacking back and forth, blocking with his shield to the best of his ability. Crude and jagged weapons scraped along his armor and shield.

"Camilla!" He roared.
@Penny

[Penny]

The sudden erruption of violence was an assault on the senses, the whole chamber seethed suddenly, the air stank of musk and burning flesh and rot and there was no room in the world for any more noise. For a moment the pressure of it all kept Camilla down but there was no way she would get another chance at this.

Off to her left something exploded in a great gout of green fire and pieces of metal and flesh bounced of the wall adding to the confusion. Suddenly she caught sight of Cydric with rats closing in around him. Fear and elation warred within her as the tide of rats decended on him, teeth gnashing and biting, weapons thrusting in quick panicked strike.

"Cydric!" she screamed and jumped forward grabbing the rusty bars and shimmering up them with all the grace of a lizard. Her hands came away red with old rust and nicked from burs in the aged metal but she didn't slow for an instant. A moment later she landed on the floor on one hand and both feet, even spread pefectly the fall hurt, but she could worry about that if she survived. Before she could even rise a jagged scimitar in the arms of a burly brown rat thing swept at her face. Camila yanked her hand up and fell onto her bottom, droping below the glittering arc of the swing. With her left hand she snatched one of the daggers from her belt and sliced it across her oponents belly, the rat screamed, there was a spray of blood and pale ropey entrails erupted from its ruined abdomen.

Fighting down the urge to vomit she pushed herself to her feet, blood dagger gripped tight. A rat sailed above her head with the force of a cannonball, smashing into one of the columns with a wet thump. The crack of the things spine was audible even over the cacophony now filling the hall. A quick glance revealed that it had been thrown by a great green skinned monster of some kind. Even as she watched it plucked another rat thing up by the spear and tore it in half with a gleeful twist of its massive hands.

"Myrmidia, Mother of Battles," Camilla prayed, trying not to think about what the salty fluid on her lips might be. She looked around in a panic for Cydric but he seemed to have vanished beneath a tide of attackers. Dispair filled her for a moment before, with a great war cry the Imperial burst from the ruck, heaving Skaven aside with his shield, his booted foot crushing the throat of one unfortunate. With a screamed Tilean curse she ran for his almost monumental solidity like a drowning woman striking out for land.

She drove her dagger into the back of one of the rats between her and Cydric, the think shrieked as it fell to the ground, mortally wounded by not quite dead, spraying some foul smelling liquid as it did so. Another blade thrust for her but she slashed its wielder across the face and eyes with the curving dagger sending it running away freely. There were just too many of them, there was no way she would make it through before they cut her, or Cydric down.

"Myrmida, Mother of Battles," she repeated, "Shelter fools, whores and orphans."

Something whiring in the darkness scythed down two rat men with a sickening crunch. Small green skinned goblins, their muscles tearing even as their mouth frothed with mad delight, caromed across the cavern. The were whirling some sort of massive metal balls, attached to them by chains. Rib cages and limbs shattered in welters of gore as the ripped through the densely packed rats.

With a scream of primal terror Camilla dashed across the piles of ruined flesh they had left. Most of the maimed rats were still alive and her foot slipped on bodies and spilled blood as she took advantage of the unexpected opening to cover the few meters to where Cydric stood. As she approached a gray rat jumped onto the mercenary's back, raising a blood slicked dagger. Without thinking about it she hurled her own blade at the horror and it sunk into its eye socket as neatly as she had hit a bulls eye in practice. The thing convulsed tetanically and then crashed to the floor. Several loud explosions sounded behind her as she drew the second dagger.

[Penny]

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic didn't know if the rats had lain charges, or if they had a new invention that had gone haywire, but he didn't want to stick around and find out. Cyrdic yanked off the rat Camilla had dispatched, and in turn caught her as the explosions behind her knocked her forward. He held her steady, and yelled above the cacophony of screams. "We have to go!" He had felt like telling her off about how her curiosity had gotten them into this, but she had just saved his life, so he would save it. He was just happy she was ok.

With that, he pulled her with him toward the back end of the Hall, hoping to Sigmar he was going the right way. Only a few Skaven stood in their way. Cyrdic's broadsword split the skull of one, and he gutted another while Camilla did her bladework. As they made it to the end, Cyrdic grabbed one of the three torches that hung upon the walls to take with them. Together they plunged into a cavernous door, only to find the dark ground did not reach past three paces, leading to a precarious drop.

Cyrdic couldn't stop his momentum in time, and fell in. Suddenly, he felt his weight pulling him down like a dropped anvil. He cried out, and fell what he could guess later was a story in height. What he landed on wasn't stone, however. He seemed to have dropped upon a mound of something hard and divided, rolling down a small hill before hitting the stone.

The brand with him had fallen atop the pile, and he lifted his head to see the fire reflecting on the very real Gold coins he had landed on. Various items, trinkets, and bejeweled weapons were sprawled out and splayed upon the walls. It was a great vaultroom, filled with riches beyond compare. The very walls shined by the firelight.
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla bounced down the hill of coins with all the grace of a sack of grain. She tried to get her hands under her, and curl her body as she had been taught but her battered body responded sluggishly and it accomplished little. Landing in a jingling pile she was covered in a small avalance of unfamiliar coins and lay there panting for long moments. The distant din of battle still echoed in her ears but the immediate danger seemed to have passed.

Nausea once again threatened to overwhelm herself as she pushed herself to her feet. She was bleeding from somewhere, probably several somewhere, and her forearm and chest were covered with black rat blood and other fluids she dared not consider to closely. Still she was alive and as she got her bearings her eyes widened in wonder.

"Cydric," she said, her voice stunned to a near whisper as she pushed herself to her feet, clinking metal coins fell from her hair and her garments as she did so. It was like something out of a tale from Araby.

"Cydric are you seeing this, mia Diosa..." she stumbled toward the Imperial, her eyes trying to take in every wonder of the vault at once, a million shimmering reflections cast back by the wan flame of the burning brand. There was enough wealth here to buy herself any title in Tilea.

How could they carry this all out of here? Gods how could they carry any of it out of here before the victors of the battle upstairs noticed them. For that matter was there a way out. She cast a covetous glance around, wading through more wealth than she had seen in her life to seize a gold hilted rapier with sapphires the size of a child's teeth worked into the hilt and scabbard.

"Cydric what do we do?"
@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

Cyrdic had sat up, but he'd remained speechless. The scarred young fighting man was at a loss at what to say. Not in all of his life had he seen a fraction of this wealth. He could buy an estate in Reikland. He could...he could buy all of Nordland or Ostland, or barter his way into lordship. He honestly didn't know what he would do with this. He never thought he'd find riches in his lifetime.

He heard the clinking of Camilla approaching him. He shook his head. Cyrdic couldn't think right now. He reached forward and picked up a ruby the size of his fist, so polished he could see his own reflection. "Take what we can," he said. Not that it would be much, but hell, a small amount of this would keep them while they tried to find work. "We'll find a way out. We can look around. Worst comes to worst I'll boost you up top. But first..."

He turned to her. "Are you hurt? What happened?" He asked her. He was too bewildered to question her harshly. They'd just been through hell. He felt more than a few stinging cuts on him from the brawl he'd just been in. He reached up and grabbed a coin that had been stuck in his hair, looking at it more closely for a moment before facing Camilla again.

Briefly, he appreciated the landscape of a foreign beauty amid a king's treasure. It still seemed more like a dream, one he was the odd one in. It fitted more in a hero's tale. He was an outlaw now, by the measure of his home province. But old habits died hard, and his Ostland, bullheaded personality flooded back into him and he remembered they weren't out of here yet. Grabbing a few trinkets along the way would be ideal, but as long as they were both ok, he'd find a way out of here if he had to carve through rock.

Past Camilla, there looked to be a closed doorway, away from the immense vault doors. Maybe they could break through that. It didn't look like it was made of stone.
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla looked herself over critically.

"Cuts and scrapes mostly, I'll be bruised but ill survive," she replied. As she talked she grabbed and handful of gold coins and realised that her clothing had neither pockets, nor did she have her pouch. Cydric problably left it at the fireside when he came after her, not that she was complaining.

"I went to the end of the passage in that first room, just to take a peek and see if there was another way out, then one of those rat men grabbed me. It must have seen the fire or smelled the stew," she confided, feeling slightly embarrassed. It was probably lucky that she had, if not the thing might have murdered or captured them both.

"Thank you for coming after me," she added, and she meant it, her heart was still thudding like a drum, but it was nothing like the terror she had felt when she had been alone with the monsters.

With quick efficiency of motion she stripped off her shirt, leaving herself naked to the waist. She didn't imagine she looked like much, her bronzed skin all bruised and covered with scrapes and blood. Kneeling down she sliced a strip of the voluminous garment perhaps twelve inches wide which she wrapped around her chest to preserve her modesty. She quickly began piling loot onto the shirt, mostly jewlery and art objects. Life had long ago taught her that something that was beautiful and gold was worth more than gold alone. Once she had as much as she thought the fabric would bear she tied the ends of the shirt around the rapier she had taken like a tinkers bundle. After a moments though she slipped on several bracelets and rings. She had an instinct for fleeing with everything she could carry away.

[Penny]

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

He nodded. "It's what comrades do," he said. As she began to strip down, he casually looked away, before his eyes were drawn toward a runic bastard sword that leaned against the far wall. It called to him, almost. It looked unlike an Elven blade, but it wasn't Dwarf either, or at least its design was not. Why was this here? Somehow, he felt as if he was meant to have it, and he strode over to grip its handle, carved in the likeness of twin Wolves. "Besides, if you hadn't have done that, we might not have found this place."

He gave the large blade a practice swing. It was surprisingly light and balanced in his hands. He didn't feel like parting with his old Broadsword just yet, but...he felt like he should take this weapon. He looped the blade's scabbard around his shoulder and under his arm, and then went to filling his coat and pant's pockets with gold and jewels. Cyrdic felt only slightly weighed down, but not enough to impede his movements. He placed various bejeweled necklaces upon his neck, and then found a small elven crown, with a sapphire at its center. He jokingly placed it atop Camilla's head, nodding in satisfaction.

"If you want my coat, let me know," he told her. He was about to speak further, when screeches echoed from above them. Cyrdic froze, and he could not tell if it was the beastmen or the Goblins. He swiftly grabbed the brand from the pile of Gold, and placed a finger to his lips as he inched his way toward the side of the room. He heard an immense grunt from above them, and realized it was the Troll. It must have been the greenskins.

Cyrdic felt along the doorway, and placed his hand upon it, applying pressure. There was a small groan, but it didn't budge. He felt confident he could cleave through it, but not without announcing their presence here. There was a lock at the door's center. Cyrdic glanced Camilla's way to see if she had any ideas.
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla cast one last look back at the pile of gold, avarice waring with fear, she already had as much as she could carry but part of her wanted every single coin that lay in the vast vault. With a physical effort she wrenched her eyes away from the loot, nearly losing her crown in the process. Gods what a fool she must look.

Leaning close she examined the lock. Once she had known a thief by the name of Rozario who had claimed that he could defeat any lock with a horseshoe nail and a sharp knife. He had even shown her a little of how the trick was done, but without proper tools there was no chance that she was going to be able to defeat an elven lock. Instead she cast around for another option wincing as she heard the troll roar again and the harsh gutaral voices which she assumed to belong to the greenskins. She traced her fingers along the leaves of the door to the masonry lintel. Elven work might be eternal, but the stone it was fixed too was not. She produced her dagger and pried at the crumbling stone. Satisfied she turned back to Cydric.

"That axe, quickly," she whispered urgendly, pointing to an oddly curved axe with elven runes carved into it. He passed it to her and she was surprised by its lack of weight. Without ceremony she wedged it under the lower hinge and heaved. The stone began to crumble, whatever ancient mortar had been used to moor it in place not up to the challenge.

"Help me," she breathed but Cydric was already leaning his considerable weight and strength on the end of the axe. There was a metallic pop and the hinge gave the door groaned and sagged slightly, its support gone. Behind her clinking sounds mingled with excited roars as greenskins dropped into the pile of coins, their own torches casting shifting shadows. Heart thumping she thrust the axe blade between the door and the lintel and pressed, the upper hinge held firm, though it squealed in protest at having to bear the weight alone. Together they prized up one corner of the door. Not far, but enough to allow a person to slide through.

"Go first," she hissed, "Go first I'm small." She replied fearfully, kicking the brand through the gap so no light would filter back to the greenskins. She cast a fearful glance backwards.

[Penny]

@POOHEAD189

[POOHEAD189]

His iron muscles along with Camilla's clever ideas and added strength paid off. He held his breath when he heard the greenskins pouring down the hole. He turned, about to unsheathe his sword before Camilla stopped him. He regarded her for a moment, but decided delaying was worse than anything he could do at that moment, and did his best to slip through. His body was lean and muscled, but he still had to suck it in, in order to slip through.

Once he was in, he found the corridor was much, much smaller than he thought it would be. More cramped. But it was straight, in fact it curved upwards a bit. And he felt a draft...

He pulled Camilla in if she needed help, and Cyrdic did his best to close the door before he and his treasure laden companion ran blindly down the small corridor. Even with the torch, it seemed as if this hall had no end. Even his legs began to give out after awhile, though admittedly he had been crawling, running, fighting, and falling the past few hours.

They passed a few halls branching outwards, but Cyrdic felt the air was coming from up ahead and charged forward stubbornly. It was just their luck when the last two halls they passed chittered with the all too familiar sound of rats. "Ulfric Ass," he growled. He halted for a moment, and then urged Camilla onward. Up and up and forward they went, their clinking clothing echoing down the tunnel as they moved. Behind them, beady eyes could be seen from afar, gaining on them.

It was Sigmar's grace when Cyrdic saw a stairway up ahead, leading to a small room with a makeshift ladder that led upwards, towards a small slit of light. "Your turn," he wheezed, both from the running and the dust in his throat.
@Penny

[Penny]

Camilla's body was about to give out, she was young, fit and athletic but no human could continue the pace they had set for long. She had forgotten how long it had been since she had last slept. The fear of the rat men kept her racing though, forcing weary muscles to produce a final and frenetic burst of effort. She cast a concerened look at Cydric, wondering if the big mercenary would have time to climb before the rats overtook him.

Such concerns didn't slow her when she reached the ladder, she leapt onto it at a dead run, allowing her momentum to carry her up the first three rungs before she even needed to use her free hand, somehow she kept the awkward bundle on her shoulder as she raced upwards, legs thrusting powerfully as her hand steadied her ascent. Within a few agonizing seconds she cleared the latter, bursting into morning sunlight that seemed so brilliant that it burned her eyes.

It was pure luck that she managed to stop before she plummeted off the edge of the narrow ledge she found herself standing on. Below her stretched the vast mountain range and beyond that a distant forest. She wind milled comically for a moment and fell backwards against the ledge, maybe six feet wide. Dropping her bundle against the cliff face she turned and screamed down the hole.

"Cydric, hurry!" Glancing around she picked up a loose rock the size of her fist and peered down into the darkness, ready to brain the first rat man that tried to chase the Imperial up the ladder.

[Penny]

@POOHEAD189
Damnit keep forgetting to tag in my actual post.