Cyrdic nearly fell asleep in the bath. After having washed himself he had decided to lounge and effectively nodded off until he jolted away from the sudden lack of air as he slipped into the tub. But luckily, coughing and sputtering, it showed his body still had the will to live. He just needed a long rest. He'd already received a hearty meal, though truth be told he felt as if he could consume 2 more servings. 

Cyrdic took the towel and dried off, glancing at the mirror as he did so. His physique, though still broad, was far more lean and almost wiry compared to what he was. A few days in the Inn with some good meals will fill him right out. "Sigmar's breath, what a journey." he muttered, and pulled on his freshly washed trousers, grabbing his shirt and flinging it over his shoulder as he stalked out of the bath house and made his way into the stables. 

He figured Camilla would be there already, but he didn't expect her to have already laid out the blankets in the most comfortable fashion she could, her lithe form already lounging atop a blanket along a shallow pile of hay. "Ceedrik?" she asked softly from within the gloom. He smiled, her voice sending a tingle in his chest. Despite all the horrors, to have ended up here in the stables with Camilla...it was worth it. 

"I'm here," he said, his voice a strong contrast to hers, accent and pitch. He made his way past a neighing horse and stepped into the pen they were to sleep in. She was far scrawnier than she was usually, but her dark eyes were as lovely as ever. "I thought you woult not coom back for a long time." she professed, and lifted the blanket she was under to reveal her naked form. Cyrdic gaped, an intense yearning he had forgotten he had stirred within him. Despite being tired as hell...he could take another hour before going to sleep... 
[hr] 

"It iz the saem as alvays." Boris assured him, patting Ivan on the back as the two Kislevites and the sorceress made their way to the Inn, having recieved word via courier where Cyrdic, Camilla, Skaldi, Konrad, and Yantz now were. The news from the Count was not necessarily welcome. An increasing number of attacks by mutants and Norscans had been occurring the past month, and there was no sign of them stopping anytime soon. "They fight, ve drive them off." 

Ivan wasn't so sure, nor was Boris, he could tell, despite the Kislevite's words. Ivan had spent a dozen years fighting chaos raids, and he knew the seasons of when they would attack, and their manner of attack. This seemed different somehow, his fears only increased by the warnings of the seeress, who, though she had been looked at with much disdain, had prophesied a great army coming from the north. One that could swallow up Kislev if the Count himself was not careful. 

"Da," Ivan replied without conviction. He and Boris had been given room to sleep in some barracks, and a small amount of pay as long as they had offered their services as scouts for the Count's forces. Knowing the enemy's whereabouts were key, and both Ivan and Boris' reputations preceded them, particularly Ivan's. "Vere vill you go?" He asked Dietrichia, her red mane of hair shadowing her nobles visages. 

"I will go the walls. One must make sure the old spells upon them are still strong." 
[@Penny]