Cyrdic shook his head, confusion warring with suspicion was writ upon his face. He didn't know how to answer Camilla, but he intended to find out. "Keep your voice quiet," he whispered to her, his eyes locked on the slender man that stood before the crowd. He saw the leader turn, and display his hands outward as if summoning a great daemon. 

"Hear me, brothers! Only by the light of Heldenhammer can we take back this land from the heretic and apostates! We shall not linger from our vigilance." His hawk eyed gazed fell upon the remaining prisoners. "Nor our punishments." With that, the hung men were cut from their ropes, and their bodies were dragged toward a makeshift pyre. What in the hell is going on, Cyrdic wondered? All of his life, he'd worshiped Sigmar, as any empire man would. Yes, he worshiped Ulric as well, and occasionally called upon Taal's guidance, but among those deities, Sigmar was the most enlightened. These...pirates dare preach in his name? 

"We're going to find out the truth of it," he said to her, his voice filled with a dangerous edge despite his calm reserve. He didn't want to wantonly kill people that hadn't shown themselves as hostile. That is, until the men had dragged up three more prisoners. Among them was a young girl, no more than fourteen years old, by the looks of it. The lean leader slapped her across the face when she struggled, and Cyrdic had seen enough. 

"Please!" She cried as she was yanked into a standing position. "Shallya's mercy! I've done no wrong!" 

"Confess, slut!" He roared back, the flame of his torch so close to her it singed the bangs of her hair. Camilla could see Cyrdic's hand inching toward his aged pistol. 
[@Penny]