POOHEAD189

Warhammer Fantasy: The Guild of Esteemed Sellswords - An adventure in the Warhammer Fantasy world! [REBOOTED] [FULL]

From within the brush, Balgrim grimaced and gazed thoughtfully at the current conflict occurring in front of him. Bloody manling concerns for bloody manlings. He grinded his teeth along a slim, torn off branch he had gotten himself a mile back. It was no rock, or Grungi forbid a good drink, but it calmed his nerves as he thought to himself. He nearly chocked when he saw the arrows flying out of the brush, and had to keep himself from charging forward.

Instead, he did as was suggested to him. He moved to the right, his axe and shield at the ready. Though he was bulky and broad, long years traveling the Old World and traversing tunnels where the slightest wrong step could mean death, he knew how to step lightly and quietly. There was barely a brush of leaves that marked the veteran's passing as he made his way round. Of course, he was no friend to wizards or witchery. But by Grimnir's axe, gold was gold! And he had made an oath to be a stalwart teammate. Dwarfs did not take such things lightly.

Grumbling to himself quietly, he took the long way around a stout oak and then began to move slower, axe held in the air as high as he dared as the Dawi crept forward. The Longbeard was glad he had tucked his beard into his belt, or it would be brushing the ground. Merely paces away, he heard breathing and the scruff of movement. At the acknowledgement, he accidentally stepped on a twig. Damn! "Alright, hold it there or I'll gut you!" he cried, leaping out of the brush and hefting his weapon menacingly, his shield up just in case they attempted anything funny.

The Enemy Within: Warhammer 40K RP

Hours later, Heironymus had felt as if they would need to go back. Damned, they had found nothing so far. The place was too convoluted and an odd mixture of chaotic acts for Silvana to hone in any true information on. At the moment they strode down a small walkway, less of an alley and more of a way for what passed down here for 'workers' to move back and forth between smelting operations. No guards were posted, but if the items were not produced to the middle hive then the Arbites would have a field day traveling below and killing any who they deemed might be responsible for the lack of production.

That did not stop the graffiti and the occasional finding of stained blood along the walls or the rimmed, crisscrossing meal planked walkway. The weight of their feet caused small tremors on the ramp, but they were not overly loud. The main illumination source other than the distant lights along the very rim of the lower hive were the smelting fires that glowed under them and within the open ports of the buildings they would pass every once in awhile.

"I tell ya, this will set you right up. Just make sure you got the money," Heironymus and Silvana heard around the corner, and though he likely knew he didn't need to, he held his hand out to make sure Silvana stopped. For the first time since he had met her, Silvana gave a slight gasp. It turned out to be for an Emperor's sent reason.

"The man speaking," she whispered. "He is connected to what we seek."

The Interrogator raised an eyebrow, but he trusted her instinct. "Very well," he replied, steadying his breathing and giving a silent prayer to the Emperor before turning the corner, pulling his cloak further over himself to hide his dashing features, leaving only his unshaven chin visible. From under his cowl, an older chap with his lower torso fused into a rolling chair haggled with a young woman and a large mutant, who seemed almost more reptilian than man.

They all turned to acknowledge Heironymus and Silvana's approach. "Well, it seems business is booming this day!" the elder said, smiling wickedly as he fished into his ragged jacket to produce a syringe of an unknown quality, handing it to the mutant. The young woman held her hands together, gazing greedily at the syringe, then back at the elder. "Thank you sir, I haven't had a fix in a long time!" she professed.

"Come back to see me girl." he offered, and as the mutant stalked past Heironymus and Silvana (the girl in tow) he growled their way threateningly, but made no moves to attack them.

"You come seeking Filiroth's items eh? Looking to enhance your day?"
@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Cyrdic nearly fell asleep in the bath. After having washed himself he had decided to lounge and effectively nodded off until he jolted away from the sudden lack of air as he slipped into the tub. But luckily, coughing and sputtering, it showed his body still had the will to live. He just needed a long rest. He'd already received a hearty meal, though truth be told he felt as if he could consume 2 more servings.

Cyrdic took the towel and dried off, glancing at the mirror as he did so. His physique, though still broad, was far more lean and almost wiry compared to what he was. A few days in the Inn with some good meals will fill him right out. "Sigmar's breath, what a journey." he muttered, and pulled on his freshly washed trousers, grabbing his shirt and flinging it over his shoulder as he stalked out of the bath house and made his way into the stables.

He figured Camilla would be there already, but he didn't expect her to have already laid out the blankets in the most comfortable fashion she could, her lithe form already lounging atop a blanket along a shallow pile of hay. "Ceedrik?" she asked softly from within the gloom. He smiled, her voice sending a tingle in his chest. Despite all the horrors, to have ended up here in the stables with Camilla...it was worth it.

"I'm here," he said, his voice a strong contrast to hers, accent and pitch. He made his way past a neighing horse and stepped into the pen they were to sleep in. She was far scrawnier than she was usually, but her dark eyes were as lovely as ever. "I thought you woult not coom back for a long time." she professed, and lifted the blanket she was under to reveal her naked form. Cyrdic gaped, an intense yearning he had forgotten he had stirred within him. Despite being tired as hell...he could take another hour before going to sleep...

---

"It iz the saem as alvays." Boris assured him, patting Ivan on the back as the two Kislevites and the sorceress made their way to the Inn, having recieved word via courier where Cyrdic, Camilla, Skaldi, Konrad, and Yantz now were. The news from the Count was not necessarily welcome. An increasing number of attacks by mutants and Norscans had been occurring the past month, and there was no sign of them stopping anytime soon. "They fight, ve drive them off."

Ivan wasn't so sure, nor was Boris, he could tell, despite the Kislevite's words. Ivan had spent a dozen years fighting chaos raids, and he knew the seasons of when they would attack, and their manner of attack. This seemed different somehow, his fears only increased by the warnings of the seeress, who, though she had been looked at with much disdain, had prophesied a great army coming from the north. One that could swallow up Kislev if the Count himself was not careful.

"Da," Ivan replied without conviction. He and Boris had been given room to sleep in some barracks, and a small amount of pay as long as they had offered their services as scouts for the Count's forces. Knowing the enemy's whereabouts were key, and both Ivan and Boris' reputations preceded them, particularly Ivan's. "Vere vill you go?" He asked Dietrichia, her red mane of hair shadowing her nobles visages.

"I will go the walls. One must make sure the old spells upon them are still strong."
@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

"We'll sleep in a barn, I don't give a damn," Yantz declared, clearly tired of the unfortunate news of no rooms. Cyrdic had to agree with him, but the big Ostlander was a bit too sullen and exhausted to show outrage at the moment. He simply blinked and tried to remain upright, or he felt as if he would topple over. Camilla seemed to take her exhaustion differently, and Cyrdic did a double take when she outright attacked one of the pompous knaves at their table.

"Ach! Damn bitch!" the fallen young man cried, trying his best to regain his footing and composure, grabbing at the table to lift himself back up again. Camilla's knee met his nose and his head snapped back, and he toppled like a pole-axed ox. Cyrdic stepped forward, hoping to halt the fighting if he could, maybe by threatening the lads. However, it took less than three steps for him to realize that he was now running on autopilot, and he was thinking like he would in a normal situation. But this wasn't a normal situation. They'd gone to hell and back and these lot were simply being greedy.

One of the men made his way around the table and punched at Camilla, only for his forearm to be plucked out of the air by a strong grip from Cyrdic. Even exhausted, he outclassed the merchant's son in strength. His other hand grabbed him by the shirt, and with a twist of his powerful back, he launched him over two tables, causing a flirtatious serving wench that had been entertaining a reikland mercenary to squeal and drop her drink. The lad ended up hitting the door and disappearing into the streets. Despite the show of strength, Cyrdic had been slow at the toss and he turned around to get a fist in his gut.

He grimaced, his aching ribs now flaring in pain. But his headbutt brought his opponent low in an instant. Camilla cursed them for fools and wretches in Tilean, challenging them over the table as if it were the last bit of sustenance in this world. Cyrdic stepped over to stand beside her. "Get the fuck out." he said evenly. Yantz appeared beside them, a knife in his callused hand. He seemed on the verge of true violence, and the malice in his eyes along with three of their number down gave the young men pause. It was when Skaldi punched one in the groin and an inhumanly high pitched squeal echoed that the others took their belongings and ran.

"My father will hear of this, scum!" one of them called, and those that couldn't walk were dragged out. Cyrdic actually gave a laugh at Skaldi's surprise attack. He'd been short enough to walk through the tables without being noticed. "Nice punch."

"I'm sure the lad thought so." Skaldi replied, and he hopped up on one of the open chairs. The others sat down with him, and to their surprise a few gold coins had been left in their opponent's hasty retreat. Cyrdic had never been the thieving type, but they weren't coming back for them, and they seemed well off to begin with. He slipped a few into his coinpurse openly. "Vodka," Skaldi told the shaken tavern wench. "A bucket of it." Unhooking a bronzed ring along his fat finger, Skaldi gave it to the wench. She went from frightened to aghast at the payment.

"That should keep us for the night, I think." The Dwarf said.

The Innkeeper approached, warily intrigued by the sheer destruction wrought by them in just a minute of conflict, yet most of the tables and chairs seemed intact. Gaining an idea, she fixed her hair and pulled her bun tighter. "You sure know how to handle yourselves, I'll give you that." She said. "How's about I hire you on as bouncers, if you have no other obligations here?" Cyrdic turned to her, and shared a look with Camilla.

"Need a cook?" Skaldi asked, smiling wide to reveal a few golden teeth between his mustache and beard.

@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

The great walls of Praag towered over them, as the north wind blew across the endless plains of Kislev. The sky, as vast as the plains they had traversed, was overcast and grim, though nothing compared to the darkly carved guard tower, and what Cyrdic suspected to be the Gate of Gargoyles. Even after all he had seen in his travels, the gate made his skin crawl. It fit its nightmarish reputation, with the swelling stonework overlook by hideously mutated statues that had been warped during the last great war against Chaos. Past the gate was an even more imposing wall, and just behind that was the fiendish looking fortress citadel that also served as the count's Palace.

"By Ursun's beart and my fathers horse!" Ivan boomed, holding his arms out as if he was to embrace the very city itself. Boris looked as if he would weep at the sight. Konrad and Yantz shared a look of relief after they had regained their composure from the horrifying gate. Dietrichia had remained very silent throughout their journey out of the World's Edge Mountains. Skaldi had done nothing but mutter about good ale, though occasionally he did speak ill of being brought here by foul sorcery.

However, the gates were closed. Something Ivan found very confusing, for he had ridden to Praag many times in his life and he had always found them open unless they expected an attack from chaos or orcish raids. "Vat is the meaning of this!?" Ivan called up to the Kislevite guards atop the walls, men covered in Lamellar armor and carrying sabers and spears.

"State your name and your purpose in Praag!" a guard called.

"We seek shelter and rest!" Cyrdic called up to him, and the guard surveying the group could tell they were honest. The small convoy looked half starved and covered in week old bloodstains and dirt. "I am Ivan Petrovich, of the Petrov Boyars!" their boisterous companion called up, and the guards were taken aback, discussing among themselves for a moment before the iron rimmed gates slowly opened for the group. Cyrdic let out a breath he had been holding, thanking Sigmar for their luck. He couldn't imagine having to walk back to Ostland of all places if they were not allowed entry here.

The gates revealed what Cyrdic did not expect however. Instead of a few guards or serfs, a group of heavily armed Hussars reared their horses up fiercely, and kicked their steeds forward at a charge that looked to be aimed at the companions. Cyrdic raised his sword defensively and stepped in front of Camilla, only for the cavalry to separate and wheel round the group, galloping toward the north, where fires of what the Ostlander suspected to be burning villages were. A rider stayed behind, waving for them. "Move! Into the city, quick!"

"Go!" Konrad urged, and a horn sounded in the distance behind them.

Cyrdic slipped an arm under Camilla's and pushed inside Praag, too confused and relieved to be behind friendly walls to be any more disturbed at the grim architecture. The gates were closed as soon as the group was clear, and Ivan and Boris were hailed over by a well armored guardsman in a plumed hat. Cyrdic went to go over with them but Ivan kept him at a distance, and began speaking his native tongue to the captain for a few terse moments. Cyrdic shared a look with Camilla, and when Ivan returned he had a stern look on his face. Skaldi raised an eyebrow.

"I go to speak to tha Count, but it looks liek they expect a small incursion of Chaos. Ve should be safe in the valls, do not vorry." He said, giving a forced smile and patting Camilla on the head happily. "Go and fint an inn. I vill kam back shortly."

Dietrichia stepped forward. "I would talk with the Count as well," she said, though Ivan seemed very doubtful that was possible, giving her a shake of his head. "I do naut tink that vould be a goot idea." he said.

"Nevertheless, I must try." she replied passively, and as Yantz stepped to go with her, she waved him away. "No...you've earned your rest. Go with them. As Ivan said, we will be back shortly."
@Penny

The Enemy Within: Warhammer 40K RP

Heirnymus smirked to himself as she gave her deadpan question. "Well truth be told I was expecting a bit more information out of the Adeptus Arbites on the whereabouts of the gangers, but as we have no better leads that is essentially what I plan to do." he said, strapping the hilt of his weapon along his leather belt, and pulling his ragged 'adept' cloaked over it. It concealed the weapon surprisingly well. "I'll also give you leave to use your powers a bit more...liberally to aid in our search. I'm sure you would agree that would be wise."

They seemed well fitted for their journey below, and made their way back to the aircar, receiving Herold Ortega's vox channel along the way so they could contact him at any point. "I took the liberty of checking where the largest...conflicts have occurred in recent years in the lower hive and decided to investigate further to see if there was a pattern, and from what I can gather there is a rough one. Usually they will happen in the central courtyards along the exits that lead to the upper levels."

"So we need to go where it is likely to be the most dangerous?" Silvana asked, her tone neutral.

"You say that like you didn't expect that to be the case," he replied, and they drove off out of the Arbites Headquarters and into the packed lanes that fed into the lower hive. Oddly enough, once they reached the edge of the rode, Heirnoymus could see that the aircars that wished to descend had to park, as great lifts would ferry people to and from the lower levels, with heavy guard at each lift to keep the gangers from ascending into the middle hive. Fully decked in carapace armor, the angel forge insignia of the emblazoned hammer upon their breasts.

"Business in the lower hive?"

Heironymus fed them his adept of the administratum credentials, and after some bewildered looks by many of the other civilians on why they wished to descend, they were allowed to and soon found themselves in a near perpetual state of light and darkness, the lift unlit save for the reactors they would pass occasionally as they went lower and lower for miles. There was the faint scent of gas in the air, though what kind Heironymus could not quite make out. Soon their lift began to rumble and shake as they began to slow, and within moments it struck the floor none-too gently, with the blast doors opening to reveal a countrysized shanty town of decaying buildings and small, pieced together homes and dens surrounding a central statue of what looked to be an adeptus astartes of the Blood Raven chapter, though by now it was hidiously disfigured and full of graffiti and rust.

A conglameration of humans, both rough and weak looking lurked at the edges of their version or perched along the stone floor of the courtyard, huddled or bickering, fighting for bits of technology. Heironymus could see a few mutants as well. Men with an extra arm or a 4th ear along their neck.

"Welcome to the lower hive," an elder said, slumped against the wall next to the opening. Further inspection revealed he had rat-like teeth and was missing a leg.
@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Cyrdic took Camilla's hand, and with his other hand they pulled him up to the top of the altar, breathing hard. His huge shoulders rose and fell like waves, and he squared his jaw and stood tall, his sword replenishing his energy with what magic it could spare. Below them, a maelstrom of combat and butchery surged, as the Orcs devolved into their bestial nature and reformed into their culture before Cyrdic's very eyes, all following one of the larger Orcs by some instinct of power.

The Chaos Dwarfs formed units where they could, their black plate shimmering dully in the light of the candles and the fading light of Dietrichia's spell. Many of their weapons thrummed with power, and the greatest of the Dwarfs had armor even more ornate than the others, with glowing red lines along the creases of their armor as if magma was encased within the black iron. A few of them had muskets and handguns, but most of them were too busy fighting their former slaves to pay attention to those on the altar, at least so far.

Skaldi blocked the blow of a Goblin and crushed its skull with his shield bash, kicking the spasming corpse down the stones. He roared and banged his axe upon his shield, challenging any to come and attack. Cyrdic wasn't sure if his call was answered or if the enemies closest happened to notice them guarding the sorceress, or perhaps some had sensed magic being wrought. But a group of Dawi Zhaar charged their position, making their way up the stairs with the clopping of hoofed feet.

A gunshot rang off, and Cyrdic felt a terrible pain in his shoulder as a bullet struck him, but he only staggered. He hoped it was only a bullet and no chaos spawned weapon. He raised his sword in time and blocked the swing of a cruel halberd. The pain in his shoulder flared, not to mention how out of breath he was. The aches of his body had not lessened with the food. But he held his strength and hacked through the weapon with a stroke, knocking the stout fiend off its feet to roll into its comrades.

Camilla shot her pistol into one of the Dawi Zharr, though it bounced off the Chaos Dwarf's armor. She cursed in Tilean, and the next moment they along with the Kislevites engaged the Dawi Zharr in a fierce melee. It was more of a brawl and who had the most brute strength rather than anything with skill, and unfortunately the Chaos Dwarfs still had the Dwarfish strength of arm despite their twisted bodies and pushed the group back, the companions trying to find room to breathe.

It was the mercy of the Gods when some Orcs came from behind and flanked them, and it gave Ivan an opportunity to cut into the exposed neck of his enemy, killing or at least incapacitating his foe and shoulder rushing him off the edge of the altar.

"How much longer!?" Cyrdic cried, engaging an Orc that had climbed the side of the plateau.
@Penny

The Enemy Within: Warhammer 40K RP

For once, Heironymus gave a smile, something he had only done when acting the part of a bumbling adept. It turned him from astute and commanding to rather handsome. "That is welcome to here, Commander." he said, and held his hand out to Herold, who took it after a few moments and they shook. Emperor's mercy, the Adeptus Arbites was as strong an Ox.

"Do you mind if we requisition some munitions and weapons, Commander Ortega?" he asked, looking around for a moment. The Adeptus Arbites replied within a moment. "It's within your rights to simply take anything you wish, from my understanding." he said. Heironymus shrugged in acknowledgement. "It is, but I'd rather us work together than either of us to be seen as a subordinate." The Arbites nodded after a moment.

He showed them to the munitions area, one of the barracks Herold Ortega had cleared out to stockpile the supplies. On the way, Heironymus and Silvana noticed a sentinal that step past them. A bipedal single manned walker, fitted with an autocannon. It was used for the Astra Militarum, though some wealthier planets often had many in service for protection and guard duty. Heironymus was glad to see Angel Forge had some in stock.

Herold opened the door to reveal a well organized barracks of carefully collected weaponry set upon shelves, set upon wall hangers, and others still within the very crates they had been shipped in off world. "Take whatever you'd like, but I'm sure you understand the value of traveling light." he said. "Contact me on the vox once you've made it to the lower hives and found something interesting."

With that, he closed the door and stalked off once more. Heironymus was glad to have the help of that one. He moved like an apex predator and spoke with a voice that would scare even an inquisitor. But he'd think more on what was ahead, later. For now, he needed to find a good weapon. His bolt pistol served him well, but it never hurt to have a bit more stopping power. While he thought, he gathered more ammunition for said weapon.

"The las rifle is common but solid," he said aloud. "You could use 3 packs and they could last you your entire lifetime. I believe each are good for five thousand shots, give or take." He reloaded his bolt pistol, slipping the clip into the gun with an audible 'clap.' "That or an autogun would suit you, I think. Though a plasma gun might also serve."

"And what will you use?" She asked, her tone neutral.

He pondered for a moment as he traversed the rows upon rows of guns, until he halted. "What indeed?" he breathed, and reached down into a grimly ornamental crate, and produced what looked to be an ornate sword of immense quality. Even Heironymus was taken aback by the quality of what he knew to be a power sword. With a flick of a switch, and the consent of the machine spirit, the weapon thrummed to life.
@Penny

The Enemy Within: Warhammer 40K RP

"Interesting..." Heironymus muttered, stroking his fine chin.

He had theorized, nay expected to need to go and have a look at the lower hives at some point in this venture. After all, young Leopold was not the only one taken. Simply the only one that was important enough to warrant the Inquisition's notice. But if the records were true, a few hundred in the lower and middle hives had simply disappeared, and the source of the disappearances was likely where they would find their answer.

"That'll be all, Taq." the Interrogator said.

"Y-yes sir." He replied, clearly a bit taken aback but not pursing his questioning curiosity any further. Heironymus ordered him to send a message to the Govenor to relay to her all of the current events at to vox him her reply, or anything important for that matter. At that, Heironymus escorted Silvana out of the compound and requisitioned one of the aircars, citing he would return it in good health if he could.

Heironymus awaited Silvana to enter, and once she did he sped off into the interhive roadways. Vast areas of streamlined steel and structured lights that remained perpetually active, flying by the windshield every other moment. "First we're to go to the runway that leads into the middle hive," Heironymus informed Silvana, speeding past the other aircars leisurely gliding by, as they were doubtless driven by upper classmen with all the time in the world.

It disgusted Heironymus. Despite no one being around to enforce such things, the nobles also had sacred duties to the Imperium, just as the lower classes did. But these days they made their servants serve as the administration of the entire hive and the various companies within. He would have a serious discussion with Constantina once he saw her again about how her hive was run. But now was not the time to focus on such things.

Less than an hour later, Heironymus had parked the aircar before the central headquarters of the arbites for Angel Forge. It was a vast steel and stone structure built into the very wall of the Hive City, with an immense garage and a central station upon a high ground, surrounded by curving walls to be a near impregnable defensive location in case of a hive world rebellion or a planetary attack and an invasion of the hive.

However, it seemed even more militarized than Heironymus had expected, and from where he had stopped the aircar, he could see arbites being trained and patrolling the compound as if they were already at war. It took him a moment to recall the news of the Adeptus Arbites commander than had recently come planetside.

The guard arbites at the front asked for their names and business, but Heironymus simply gave the man a look at the seal of the Inquisition. He blanched at the symbol, utterly awestruck. "Yes, this way sir." he said, and called for the inner gates to be opened. The iron blast doors slowly embarking separately with an audible heaviness to their movements. The Interrogator and Astropath could see the military grade inner workings of the compound from here, with various barracks laid out within a grid and the complex across the central garage where the Rhinos and Chimeras were parked. Heironymus was surprised to see two Leman Russ tanks in good working order.

Once they were led into the complex, Heironymus and Silvana found themselves within a massive baroque hall, and a sliding door slipping open to reveal a muscled, grim man wearing the telltale carapace armor of the adeptus arbites, his eyes and upperface masked by a dark visor. The Adeptus Arbites were a step above the local planetary arbites or the PDF forces, or even guardsmen. They were much like Inquisitors, spreading the will of the Emperor across the Galaxy and upholding the law on those who had broken it, regardless of rank. This must be the one that he had heard of earlier. Herold Ortega.

"Commander Ortega, this is-"

"Interrogator Heironymus Baldemar, and my colleague," Heironymus declared, allowing Silvana to introduce herself if she so wished. "Your reputation proceeds you, sir. I hope we have not come at a bad time."

Silence followed, and the young inquisitor could tell that through that grim and brutal visage, he was being calculated and appraised with a hard intellect. The voice that came out of his scowling visage was rough. "Never a bad time to meet an Inquisitor," he said. Heironymus couldn't tell if he was joking. "What can we do for you?"

"Have you seen this symbol before?" Heironymus asked him, showing him the datapad. "I tell you now, it is of upmost importance."
@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

The sorcerers among the Dawi Zharr recited an unholy incantation that seemed to grow in volume despite none of them raising their voices, engulfing the chamber until one by one they unleashed their spells. Cyrdic and the group had duck further behind cover as walls of flame erupted into the fighting and scorching up into the back of the antechamber. It was no Dragonfire, but it seemed far more dangerous than your average flame.

One of the blasts streaked through four greenskins, utterly incinerating their flesh. The blast cut into the pillar Camilla clung to, charring the stone at its base and causing an ominous creak in the structural integrity of the architecture. Cyrdic stiffened, ready to run headlong and aid her at the first sign of trouble. Simultaneously, the magic that had been unleashed had awoken Dietrichia, the woman groaning and opening her eyes.

"What foul sorcery?" she asked, her cultured accent slow as she tried to figure out where she was. Cyrdic didn't have time to wonder on anything else, simply glad the woman was awake, and painfully aware Camilla's precarious position. "Ivan. Lead them down and flank the Dwarfs-" Skaldi seemed insulted he called them such. "I mean Chaos Dwarfs. I'll follow." Cyrdic charged off as soon as he spoke those last words, not stopping to hear the protests.

Below him, Orc, Goblin, and Dwarf still fought. The Greenskins fought with their typical brutality that was extremely effective in close quarters. But the Chaos Dwarfs were only slightly flimsier than your average Dwarf, and they were clad in black plate and wielding weapons that put Imperial armaments to shame. It was only a matter of time before the Greenskins were destroyed. Cyrdic danced over charred and burning bones as he passed by a pair of Orcs. They looked at him dumbfoundedly, too surprised to see an Empire man to immediately swing at him.

He shoulder rushed one and threw him flat just as the pillar began to crumble. From up above, Cyrdic heard Camilla squawk. He looked upwards and saw her plummeting. The Ostlander dived and just barely caught her, rolling to change her bodies momentum and tossing them both roughly onto the stone floor. Luckily, Cyrdic took the brunt of the impact, and he opened his eyes to see Camilla in his arms. "You ok?" he asked.

She kissed his nose in response.

The two Orcs advanced on them, eyeing them balefully. Cyrdic pulled himself and Camilla up. A great cry echoed from the Greenskins and they chopped at the two mercenaries. Camilla going low and impaling her Orc, whilst Cyrdic blocked the brute swing with his own formidable strength and then hacked the brutes arm off. Within seconds, both Orcs were dead. However, they couldn't stop the bond, and a voice of incredible presence filled the chamber with grunts in the Dawi Zharr tongue, as if it was ordering them about.

A quick look below showed the group having moved, crouching and moving from pillar to stone in a hushed movement. Lights played off of Dietrichia's fingertips as the group held their weapons, Skaldi and Ivan leading them with Konrad and Boris guarding the flanks. They were 7 rows down so far, moving in a slightly sinuous pace to remain hidden.

"We need to go."
@Penny