They took their time finishing breakfast but conversation limited by the uncomfortable atmosphere in the tavern. Whatever the towns people's opinion of the Justicar was, mention of the Hockendorf's chilled the reception instantly. Suspicious looks were cast at them and they muttered in small groups. 

It was a relief to get out into the icy winter air and they made their way through the town. It was a fairly handsome place with tall sloping rooves and gently curving streets. Sheets of ice covered most surfaces which gave the whole place something of a magical air. The thought of magic sent a shiver through Camilla that had nothing to do with the cold. After a few minutes they rounded a corner to find a knot of men standing before a small neat cottage. Smoke trailed lazily from the chimney but the shutters on the windows were closed. Dark stains on the timber showed where vegetables and other missiles had been hurled. The word WITCH was scrawled across the white plaster of the front wall.

"Charming," Camilla whispered to Cydric. THe big Ostlander had been quiet since receiving the news about his friend. SHe slipped her hand in his and squeezed comfortingly. As they approached the men stirred to action shaking out in a lose line. They were all pinch faced and sallow looking and they carried an assortment of improvised weapons ranging from clubs to bill hooks.

"What is your business with the chaos lover!" the leader, a weazily looking man with pockmarks on his face demanded. Planting himself belligerently before Cydric. Camilla let of his hand and shifted back and to the left, a customary position that allowed her to cover Cydric's back if things went poorly. The thugs misinterpreted the guesture and smiled in triumph, thinking that the Tilean Brava had been intimidated into retreating.

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