"I can't agree more," Cyrdic said to the Witch Hunter, wincing again at the pain before scooping Camilla up and setting her on her feet along with he. The Ostlander cleared his throat, and felt the wind stinging against his near bare-back. But he felt more than ready to kill chaos filth. Not only had they been suspect and killed a (mostly) innocent woman, but they'd ruined his night. At least their attacks had led a lead for the three of them. 

He picked up his fallen sword. "It's not a Beastman," he said. "It's a Skaven." 

"I know." Koneinswald said, examining the corpse. Cyrdic was taken aback, surprised. The Templar chuckled darkly. "Yes, I know most don't believe they exist. Most Witch Hunters don't either. But I've seen them once or twice. Middenlanders swear they exist, and keep up daily patrols under the sewers for them. Or they had, up until a few months previous when the Sewer jacks were reduced severely. Only someone high up could have called for such an action, though I am certain it was not the Graf. His exploits against Khazrak One-Eye are well known enough." He shook his head. "No, the heretic is someone else. But someone close..." 

Cyrdic absorbed the information. He understood now why the Witch Hunter had deduced someone high up had been a follower of chaos, and why such heretics were within the city. Middenheim was far too powerful to be beseiged from without, or below. Unless someone weakened its soft underbelly, and infected it from within.

He lifted his pistol, standing at the ready. "I was hoping to go alone, but if you two are here already, you might as well accompany me below. That is, if you wish to find some answers in this cursed Fortress city."
[@Penny]