[i]Dear Eloise, 
[indent]Inside the letter is a few coins and a recommendation by the office of Elector Count Gausser for your employment as a midwife and lady of the court to the Baroness Von Eisenbruke. It was the best I could do under such short circumstances, but it will give you a nice place to live and a fair wage. I am sorry but Karl was dead when we found him, but his spirit is now with Sigmar. I made sure of that. I wish you the best, but Camilla and I are now in the service of the Grand Barony of Nordland. We're traveling eastward, but don't trouble yourself with worry. You know how I am. I'll be fine. Sigmar and Taal watch over you, El. [/indent][/i]
-[i]Cyrdic[/i] 

[hr] 

The Ostlander's fist buried itself into the paunch of the soldier who'd tried to touch Camilla. Fat and balding, he wheezed and fell to his knees, sweat beading on him despite the cold wind whistling past the campsite. He knew full well Camilla could have probably taken him, but Cyrdic felt like letting off some steam. They'd traveled for a week through the wilderness before hearing word of mercenaries being hired out to the local baron for Norsca's raiding season. Unfortunately, the Baron and his levied forces were now close to a fortnight late themselves, and the mercenaries were growing restless and concerned. The camp was vast, almost a forest within a forest, with at least five hundred campfires dotted within the trees and rocks of the rendezvous. Those that weren't leaving were letting their urges get the better of them, be it violent or otherwise. 

As usual, Camilla had received more than a few looks from the men in the vast camp. But Cyrdic beside her and how she carried herself had kept most at a distance until the past few days. This was the third man to try and grab her, and the fourth man to try and steal some coin along with her. 

After Cyrdic felled the fat one, a few jeers and cries rose from the milling crowd, and a brawl in and of itself erupted among them. The ex-sergeant was shoved by a falling man, and nearly struck in the nose from a launched fist. He knocked the body aside and ducked the blow, hammering back with his elbow. The soldier collapsed forward, and Cyrdic caught him and tossed him to the side. If the mercenaries got closer they would have trampled over Camilla and Cyrdic's breakfast, but as it were, the brawl slowly drifted to other parts of the camp. Cyrdic stood over the man he'd struck, who was just getting to his senses. He definitely had the cut of a soldier.

"Where are you from?" 

"Ostermark." The man coughed, spitting blood through his mustache. "4th halberdiers." 

"Ostland, of the 8th." Cyrdic replied, reaching out to help the man up. The downed soldier eyed him for a moment, before accepting the offered help and getting to his feet. Cyrdic saw him look at Camilla, and then back at Cyrdic. The Ostlander could tell he was weighing several options. Some of them violent, and others more cordial depending. Cyrdic stared at him, and placed a hand on his shoulder, causing him to flinch. 

"Sigmar knows we have enough enemies already." Cyrdic said, and he gave a nod. The man nodded back, unable to not agree with the logic. 
[@Penny]