Cyrdic's incredulous face was comical when he noticed Camilla miles away when they were discussing what could shape the fate of Middenheim. He waited for the Chamberlain to be gone before he closed the door, and locked it. Her next question had him give a less than excited expression, and he sat Camilla down on the bed. 

He tried to put it into words. He honestly knew very little himself, other than it was the last thing anyone not a servant of chaos ever wanted to be near. "It's..." he gestured with his callused hands. "The very raw stuff of chaos, made into a solid form." He explained, looking at the Tilean woman in the eyes. "I've seen it, once. A Norscan shaman had a staff with a rock of warpstone embedded atop it. It took good men and twisted them into mutants before my eyes. I'll never forget it." 

Cyrdic seemed troubled just recalling it, but then he breathed out to calm himself. The normally ruddy, handsome face had seemed lined with experience for but a moment, but it was gone. He hardly let it show, but the young sergeant had been through much in his military service. "We'll search around the city. Maybe we can ask the city's layout from someone." In all honesty, Cyrdic was thinking of asking the maid. She seemed like she would be helpful, at least to him. 

"I've never been to a ball before," he admitted. "I don't know how to dance, and I don't know how to, um, mingle." 
[@Penny]