‘Do I look like I’m taking a damned stroll?’ he gasped, coughing wetly and staggering. Aelyn looked over his shoulder and saw a mass of Moonclan grots bearing down on them, red eyes gleaming and blades drawn. The greenskins had swept over the remaining cannon crewmen like a flood-tide, and now bore down on the two Swords of Sigmar with malicious glee. Aelyn plucked an arrow from her quiver, drew and loosed. She repeated the action once, twice, thrice and four aelven arrows slammed into the foremost greenskins. They vanished beneath the trampling feet of the horde, which did not slow at all.

Aelyn reached for another arrow and cursed as she grasped empty air.

‘All gone,’ she said.

‘Oh no,’ grunted Bartiman. He stopped and turned, raising his staff and pointing it at the surging mass of grots. He took several deep breaths, trying to drag in enough air to harness his magics. Aelyn felt arcane power crackle and saw Bartiman stand a little straighter as its energies flowed through him.

‘Th’rak’ul!’ boomed Bartiman, and a blast of night-black energy ripped from the tip of his staff to slam into the grots with a percussive thunderclap. The blast wave rolled outwards, rippling black fire rushing through the tightly packed greenskins and blasting them to ashes.

Black-hooded greenskins screeched in terror and scattered in all directions. Their charge broke apart like a wave against rocks. Aelyn felt a moment of relief before Bartiman staggered and fell. She lunged, catching him before he hit the cobbles. His hood fell back from his lolling head, and she hurriedly pulled it back into place, warding him against the moonlight. Before she did, though, Aelyn saw just how pale the wizard was, how sunken his eyes and liver-spotted his papery skin. It was as though he had aged – truly aged – a decade in the last few minutes.

‘Shouldn’t have, but you know, my dear, needs must,’ he croaked. ‘Probably best if you–’

‘Do not tell me to leave you behind, Bartiman,’ hissed Aelyn, hoisting him to his feet and supporting him as best she could.

‘Don’t you dare!’ he gasped. ‘I was going to say best if you hurry up! They won’t be scattered for long.’

Aelyn set off again in pursuit of Draconium’s ragged army, away from the hordes of greenskins and monsters spilling into the square. If she and Bartiman could catch up to the watchmen, if they could somehow rein them in and make them see sense, then perhaps they could fight their way out of the tightening greenskin noose.

‘At least we got their attention,’ said Bartiman, making a sound that could have been a laugh or a cough.

‘Eleanora and Romilla can thank us later,’ said Aelyn, distracted. ‘First we have to escape this mess alive.’