Cyrdic glanced at Camilla, who in turn looked at the Dwarfs. Cyrdic didn't need to be told twice, he was going to do it anyway unless his lover had a different suggestion. 

"Don't look at me, my legs are too short." Was what Cyrdic heard from behind him when he dropped his norscan shield and stepped up to the window. In the gloom, he saw a very muddied Konrad Von Michenkomph scrambling away. He looked to be limping as it had been a four meter drop, but Cyrdic doubted anything was seriously wrong with the man. Sigmar, he hoped the man wasn't a charlatan and this was worth it. He pushed off the window sill and sailed down, catching himself by hitting the ground with his feet and bending his knees to redirect the full force of the fall to all four limbs. 

With muddied hands, he raced after the pitifully slow doctor. Cyrdic had good night vision, and with the vague lights from the ruined settlement blazing from windows and street lamps, it was impossible for him to lose the good doctor. Twenty meters and Cyrdic caught up to him by a tree at the edge of a paved road. Instinct told him to elbow the man and send him to the ground, but that might actually cause more damage than would have been necessary. Instead, Cyrdic grabbed the squealing fellow's nightshirt, yanking him up like an eagle catching a hare. 

"Ack! Let me go you brute!" 

"Don't make me get the sword out," Cyrdic warned, which led to a less energetic panic but he still squirmed. The chase was quick, but it was a long trudge back to herr doctor's quarters. Once they arrived back, Camilla and the Dwarfs were still in there, the Tilean woman cleaning her nails with a dagger she had just sharpened and the Dwarfs were passing the time smoking pipes. Cyrdic shoved him inside the doorway, closing the portal behind him. 

"Run again and I'll get the buckshot." Cyrdic warned him, and the doctor quaked sufficiently enough to where he felt confident he would flee, and just to be safe, Cyrdic stood by the window with his big arms crossed.