Cyrdic's eyes opened, revealing Camilla's beautiful face, wariness and worry evident in her features. The Ostlander's vision had grown quite accustomed to the dark ever since he had found his sword, something he tried dismiss as his mind playing tricks on him. Still, he was glad for it when it proved useful. The man nodded and sat up, pulling off the heavy furs he had atop him and silently reaching for his sword. 

The Ulrican sword howled through his mind when he grabbed it, and once he gazed out of the window he couldn't help but feel his heart skip a beat. "Ulric and Sigmar..." he breathed, the spectral figures as bright as torches to him in the dark of the night, even with the white snow beneath them. He was simply glad they had the lake between them, which gave them some time and distance. "Chaos Wraiths," he breathed in Camilla's ear. She shook her head as if she didn't understand, but they both knew there was no time for explanations. 

Cyrdic had never seen such creatures before, but he had heard stories. What's more, he now recalled a small contingent of men having been lost within these very woods the last time he had been on campaign. There was no blood or footprints leading out of their small campsite come morning. Most were missing, and a few corpses were found. No marks upon them. Simply dead as if they had never had the spark of life, staring into the sky through glazed eyes. 

"Justicar" Cyrdic whispered, nudging Thaddeus. The man took a few good shakes before he began to stir. "What's all th-" Cyrdic placed a hand on his mouth and a finger to his own lips. "We have to go. Quietly..." 

As the party gathered their meager belongings, the Justicar having almost cried aloud at the sight of the wraiths, Cyrdic tried to look at the brightside. From the stories he had heard, restless spectars were often able to be raised when there was a high concentration of chaos within the vicinity, which meant the Tomb of Theodric, Tzeentch's Chosen, was close. 

The group made their way out of one of the tumbled walls, and crouched as they tried to make it to the tree line on the opposite side of the windmill. That is, until they heard the same mad laughter upon the wind, and a sense of dread filling their hearts. 
[@Penny]