He had no idea what had happened when Camilla tossed the comely waitress the copper piece. But he supposed he didn't need to know. Sometimes he did not know if Camilla confused him because she was Tilean, or because she was a woman. He supposed that was apart of what endeared him to her. He was experienced in many areas, and her in most things he most definitely was not. He kept his eyes off the buxom maid and strode outside into the morning sun. 

As they walked, Cyrdic felt very much like Camilla took the lead. Though he was satisfied with that, truth be told. He seemed more like her vigilant guard, though they often shared jokes and coy smiles at references of their previous few weeks together. He bought a pair of apples and handed one to his traveling companion, enjoying the small treat, even if it didn't substitute a proper meal. All manner of citizens passed them by as the walked the streets, from an Estalian poet singing to the crowd, to a contingent of Knights of the White Wolf. 

Soon they were at the jewelry section, and Cyrdic turned his back and simply gazed at the crowd while Camilla haggled. His cable-like muscles pronounced as his arms were crossed. He saw the tips of the Middenheim wall just past the buildings, always looking like it was a distant peak that surrounded a great stone valley. It made him feel at home, if he was being honest with him. Next, his eyes fell downward, and he spotted what Camilla had. Some grey cloaked figure at the edge of his vision, that suddenly disappeared. 

He turned to her when she asked him what they should do next. "Food sounds good. I could eat an ox," he told her. She handed him the coin they had made and he strapped it to his belt tightly, before walking her out of the jewelry section of the market. "I think a street over we can-" 

He was interrupted by a gout of flame, and they turned to see a raven haired woman juggling twirling sticks, their ends pitched in fire. Cyrdic grinned and nudged Camilla. "I was about to comment I'd never seen such a thing before, but I'm pretty certain you could pull that off," he joked. The twinkle in his eyes disappeared when he saw the grey-clad figure yet again, and so focused on it was he that he failed to notice the halfling that had snuck behind him and cut the cord of his coin purse. 

He rested his hand on his hip as he often did, and suddenly realized the coins were gone. Cyrdic spun, and through the crowd he met the eyes of the thief. "By Ulric," he growled, and he sped off toward where he just saw the little thief. Cyrdic wasn't sure if the Halfling was a true one, or a child. He didn't rightly care, and both of the duo sped after the pickpocket. Luckily for them, their coin purse was quite heavy after Camilla's smart haggling, and three streets uptown later, they saw the Halfling break into an alleyway and speed inside an unmarked door. The door slammed shut just in front of Cyrdic's nose, and he attempted to open it.  

Locked. He growled, and backed up. Squaring his legs, he bullrushed forward and shouldered the door so hard it burst into pieces. Kindling fell and splinters clung to Cyrdic's hair, but he was alright. In front of them was the Halfling, having opened their bag to see the coins within. It only took Cyrdic unsheathing his sword, and glaring at him with his iron eyes for the Halfling to flee with nothing (or very little) of their earnings, having left the coin purse behind. 

Cyrdic sighed, and was about to step forward to grab their coins when he heard voices from the alleyway over, and something to him to hide as the voices grew closer. 

"-The ceremony." 
"Were you followed?" 
"No, by Tzneetch. I think I would know, wouldn't I?" 
"The master wants no mishaps. Not like last time."
[@Penny]