Muffled within his cloak hood Werner finds it progressively more uncomfortable to breath in this room. Nothing useful, and certainly nothing that will get them out of this place any faster. Even more disturbing is the fact that there is a missing arm that hasn't turned up.
Albrecht one hand's wisdom comes floating to him from years past. "Them jobs that is sold to you as a peach rarely are. Else why would sum fella make an effort to gussy up the reward and skim on the details..."
As Kirsten and Werner finish combing the room Werner bolts as soon as reasonable. Arriving back all eyes turn to him for a moment, drawn by his overly rapid movement down the corridor. He shakes his head, 'Nothing except disease, death and ill omen'. Conversation returns to the box and the implications.
He inspects his gloves carefully, considering tossing them, and then removes his impromtu facemask. He nods at Johann's declaration, indeed, there is no reason to tarry in this diseased charnel house. Hoisting his axe he prepares to move forward with the group.