Inquisitor Lord Xerus, member of the Ordo Malleus and rather well known as the Daemon-Bane, calmly stood before the holographic map of the star system that his personal ship was en route towards. The Eclid System, a rather mundane and unremarkable little system of five planets with the Segmentum Obscurus, the dwarf star the the planets revolved around did not provide much heat, only enough to allow one planet to be habitable without survival equipment and safe houses. But there was a moderate sized Imperial presence on the life sustaining world, second planet from the star, it was classified as a shrine world, for the Ecclesiarchy had founded the colony as a religious steward for relics that, while not notable or important, required safe storage out of the regular sight of the faithful, and not so faithful who would deface such artifacts and relics. What the Inquisitor Lord ultimately sought was not on this world, not by a long shot, but the first clues were bound to be here. At least, the first physical ones he would be getting his hands on. He had called his Retinue together from the various portions of the ship, awaiting their arrival before beginning to brief them.

Inquisitor Xerus himself stood at 6'2" tall, without his artificer power armor, and well over 7 feet tall with it on, which he was wearing the gunmetal grey armor while awaiting his retinue. On his hip was a long power sword, ancient and nameless, lacking in the ornamintation that others felt necessary, but far more lethal than anyone would assume from such a weapon. He had a master crafted bolt pistol holstered on his hip, which lacked any special traits beyond its excellent forging. Xerus himself was a scarred, grizzled looking old man, grey hair receding back along his skull, but still maintaining an air of powerful dignity and authority, Icy cold blue eyes glared out at the world around him, analyzing and storing details for future reference, all in the pursuit of the defense of the Imperium of Man, and the God-Emperor himself. That was what others saw in his motives and actions, and that was what he intended. Therefor, he did his job to the utmost capability.

---

The first man to report to the briefing was an old serving member of the Retinue, one Sergeant Alexander Westfield. A heavily augmented quartermaster and former stormtrooper, the man was an expert on the various arms and armor that the various members of this very, well, diverse retinue fielded. At least the ones that allowed him to handle their gear, studying the rest from a distance to get a grasp of what they wielded as well. The old, by guardsmen standards, veteran was probably one of the more normal members of this band of specialists. He never expected to see living Xenos that close, let alone ones that worked with the Imperial Inquisition, and a Grey Knight was a legend he only heard whispers about from his dealings with other retinues, in his employer's stead. The others were just as varied, from the records he had access to, and sat down after giving Xerus a familiar nod, too old to care about formality anymore. He would be watching the door, a lit cigar clenched in his teeth, analyzing each person that came through that bulkhead.

Sten Revna entered next. He bowed to the Inquisitor and nodded to Sergeant Westfield. He prepared his report on his premonitory visions.

"Inquisitor, I have performed several Readings of the Emperor's Tarot. The most successful Reading read as follows: The top most card was the Ancient, followed by the Lovers inverted, the Traveler and Courage inverted. From the Ancient, I saw an object of ancient power, though the nature of said object eluded my foresight. The Lovers inverted gave a sense of regret, as Courage inverted gave a feeling of loathing and fear. The Traveler, combined with the previous two cards, as well as the time aspect of the Ancient, implied a long and arduous journey, though weather this journey is our to be had or someone else's that has been walked already evaded my vision. All other aspects of the Reading were inconclusive. All attempted Readings on yourself came up inconclusive."

Sten rubbed his eyes and took a seat. He had spent the last thirty-three hours in meditation with the help of the Inquisitor's navigator and astropath. He could have asked the Grey Knight for assistance, but felt the great warrior needn't be bothered by his duties. And he definitely wasn't going to ask the Xeno for assistance. Besides, the Harlequin professed no experience in farsight. He took a lho-stick from his case and stuck it in his mouth. He snapped his fingers twice before he focused his powers into a tiny pyrokinetic flame on the tip of his thumb which he used to light his lho-stick. He took a drag and sighed. He would need to focus to remain awake for this meeting.

Gorgutz wanted his shoota. But da humies said he didn't get his shoota when he was going to da big talkies. Dat's where he was goin, so Gorgutz went. Stepping into da talkies room Gorgutz noticed the other three there and gave a grunt of a greeting as he pushed past the one talkin about his card thingie that Gorgutz didn't care about. He cared about shootin, fightin, and winnin. He flopped down in one of the biggest chairs at the table. The only reason he got a big chair was because he was so big. The little chairs couldn't hold him for too long. He thought the big chair made him important, but dat wasn't true, it just made him big! Gorgutz liked being big. He also liked his warbike, it's twin Dakkaguns made lotsa noise and left lotsa holes in people. It's red paint job made it supa speedy too!

But Gorgutz didn't get to use his warbike much, too much "Collaberal damage" dey said. At least Gorgutz still had his Kombi-shoota. Made almost as much noise. Growing impatient (he usually wasn't patient anyway) Gorgutz piped up and said. "Ey' boss, why ya sayin 'Come to talkies room' if we ain't doin any talkies?" Gorgutz loud, gravely voice probably didn't rest too well on the ears of those currently present. Though that was their problem, not gorgutz's.

The Harlequin Troupe transport ship Motley glided gracefully through the webway, guided through the most secret of passageways by Cegorach, the Troupe's destination was a small, unsettled world in the Eclid system. The Seer had made it clear that the Troupe's new ally, Inquisitor Xersus, would be arriving in that sector soon, and may need their aid. The Troupe had long ago elected one among their number to treat with the inquisitor, since an entire band of Eldar Harlequins would likely make any human nervous.

The chosen Trouper, Narr Nirien, flipped through the air in his chambers, practicing for the next time he would perform the Masque. Or, if the occasion called for it, the next time he would have to relieve some fool of his head. He felt the summons resonate within the warp. It threw off his balance, and he nearly missed his elaborate landing. It was the Inquisitor. This time, he had actually been invited to the party. How wonderful. He grabbed his Wargear, placing his mask over his face, and swinging his Witchblade around casually as he walked through the ship's hall to meet with the Troupe Master, finding confidence in the power and focus the blade gave him. He arrived in the Avatar's chambers, and gave a flourishing bow.

"My presence has been requested by the Inquisitor." Narr said with a wide grin, "It seems as if he is finally beginning to trust me. Or, perhaps he merely wants me along for my battle prowess."

"Well," The Troupe Master returned the grin, "It's certainly not for your good looks. We should arrive in the Eclid system soon. From there, you can contact the Inquisitor psychically and find a place to rendezvous that won't result in you getting shot by some xenophobic human lackey."

"Oh please. Xenophobic lackeys have been shooting at me for centuries. They've yet to hit their mark. I'll send word once we exit the webway, just to ease your mind." Narr jabbed.

The Motley exited the Webway through a long-forgotten gate hidden on one of the unsettled planets in the Eclid system. As soon as Narr felt the shift from the Webway to Realspace, he sent out the psychic message to Inquisitor Xersus.

The message translated roughly to: "Hello, Inquisitor. Narr here. I'd love to join you for whatever you have planned, but for obvious reasons, I'll need a rendezvous point which guarantees my safety." He let go of the psychic message lest any of his personal thoughts get carried along with them, and he sat down to await the response.

The forth to arrive in the cabin proper was the resident Crusader, Tobias Ramstiel. Even inside the relative safety of the ship, the executioner was still clad in his battlegear, complete with his heavily fortified storm-shield and the symbol encrusted Guillotine's Edge slung around his hip. Standing at nearly six foot six, stoic, metal-clad warrior gave no heed to the group as he entered, instead bowing deeply to the Inqusitor and moving toward one end of the table, hand laying restlessly on the hilt of his blade.

In the presence of his Inquistor, the clean-shaven bodyguard removed his helmet and stood firmly at one end of the table, glaring down with scrutinizing eyes at the assembled members of the Inqustiorial retinue. Icy blue eyes and high cheekbones marked the face of a man who would never be considered handsome, while the hard angles and rippling muscles that were visible even from the barest parts of his neck showed the results of nearly two decades of physical training. For the man who devoted his life for honor and death, that brutish strength was all that mattered. The infinitely cold gaze swept over the group, pausing only momentarily on the hulking form of the Orkish scum that dared share a table with one of the highest agents of the Emporer's will, before settling into a relaxed sweep of the room, making sure to note any newcomers with another appraising glare.

The ship’s atmosphere was cool against her skin it even seemed to press through the almost skin tight outfit she had picked out. It was all black with a belt that held the symbol of the inquisition for a buckle. She wore her Ordo jacket as well and stepped lightly across the floor in well made leather boots making only the lightest of noises. She looked over her shoulder as her companion’s movements were so silent she had to make sure she was still there. Behind her walked a death cult assassin, one Korvis had seen a lot of promise in. The assassin moved in subtle ways her hips swaying only the slightest in the skin tight attire she wore. Swords adorned her hips as well and also on her back. The single red eye cover glowed brightly in the dark of the hallway of the lord Inquisitor’s ship.

Korvis herself was not unarmed though she wore her plasma pistol on her hip like it was a part of her body it didn’t impede her movements in the least bit. Shortly she arrived at the door that lead to the room where she was to meet with the Lord Inquisitor’s retinue. She had met the Lord Inquisitor before, but had never spoken to him. She turned to look at Xivis “No matter what you see… Take no actions for now. We are to observe and report remember that, and only act if necessary.” She turned back to the door straightened up her jacket and moved swiftly through into the room filled with the retinue the assassin behind her moving easily at her left. She took in those gathered around and pressured her self control to keep from grimacing. “Lord Inquisitor I see I am late I suppose? I apologize for the tardiness. I had some trouble finding my way here.”

As her eyes took in the Ork a slight twitch at the corner of her lips might be noticeable, the rest she gave a well appraising gaze to finding them all worthy to be in the service of a inquisitor, at least for now. Xivis on the other hand did seem to be on edge as if being in the presence of the greenskin was enough to make her turn inside out. Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she turned to stare at a wall keeping the rest of the room in her side view.

Heef peered in through the open door that the two ladies had passed into, his blank face taking in the room as he stooped lower to get a better look. Gathered around a plain table with a holo-projector in the center were an odd collection of warriors, even an Ork sat at the table something that didn’t ring quite right even to the Ogryn.

Looking back out at the corridor he was hunched over in briefly the Ogryn saw that either way the path was empty; likely this was the room he was supposed to be at. Pausing for a moment he looked quizzically at the door to the room staring at the size of the portal compared to his frame. His face knotted in concentration Heef bent down even further and turned into the room with difficulty, his bulky frame getting caught in the door. Watching the efforts of the brute to simply get through the door would have been incredibly awkward as it took an extraordinary amount of time and much grunting for him to eventually force his way into the room.

However upon gaining entry to the room he found the ceiling of the chamber to be significantly higher than that of the corridor outside and gratefully stood to his full height. He wore a pair of huge combat boots and camo trousers and khaki vest that threatened to burst at the seems as he moved his upper body. Covering his arms were all sorts of tattoos in seemingly random patterns ranging from a serpent ending in a human skull trailing down his forearm, to the badly inked image of a female Ogryn thankfully with enough clothes to protect the sanity of those who looked at it.

His face, was scarred all over, with his bulbous nose missing a large section out of his right nostril. Rough stubble covered his entire lower face and was matched by the recently shaved hair covering his head. Uncertain as to what to do under the circumstances Heef took example from the rest of the members around the table, noting that the sergeant who had looked at his weapons earlier was sitting near to the head of the table, next to the inquisitor who had saved him from 'ex-e-cushion' and who's orders he was to follow..

He took care to take a seat as far away from the ork as possible, his bin lid sized hands curling into fists at the thought of the greenskin and the prospect of a potential fight. Realising that the others were looking at him critically the Ogryn paused in the process of sitting down on the chair that was now eclipsed by his rear end, and stated in a simple manner.
“Heef Rog.”

And with that he collapsed into the metal chair which immediately buckled under his weight and collapsed to the floor with a loud crash flattening into the ground as his rear settled onto the wreckage of the chair. Even as he sat on the floor with a perplexed look on his face, Heef’s bony head was still level with everyone’s at the table.

When a psychic message winged its way through space, Nyxos surfaced from the Deep Currents. He'd always been able to fall into the Flow, but never had he been able to teach another the art. It was at once beautiful and terrifying, to submerge yourself in the twisting currents of the Warp, to bring it rushing through you and let it guide your hand. A lesser man would be taken over, walked from inside like a Dreadnought by a servant of the Ruinous Powers, but to a Grey Knights Librarian and a psyker of his power, such things posed little threat, even in the Deep Currents far from the material realm.

Where the team's Blank was a hole in the Warp, a black pit, he was a beacon, blazing gold into the Immaterium with the Emperor's Light and unshakeable devotion, a Grey Knight's armour of faith magnified a hundredfold by Nyxos' psychic might. His physical countenance was similarly impressive, clad in a ten-foot suit of Tactical Dreadnought armour adorned with intricate gold-etched litanies and a deep blue-black sword almost the length of a man at his hip. The most striking feature, however, was the Psychic Hood that adorned his head, crackling with energy even inert, a visible sign of the boiling Warp energies that suffused the brain below, as were the blue Warp-lights that burned in the lenses of his Templar-pattern helmet when he drew on his power.

Ducking through the doorway with three centuries' trained grace, a stark contrast to the similarly-sized Ogryn's fumbling entry, he glanced around the room with a veteran's practiced appraisal. He nodded to the Inquisitors, and took a seat in his reinforced chair, fingers idly tracing the sword-and-book symbol on the armrest, before turning his head to look at Sten. He'd always respected the man, to come into psykerhood so late and yet rise so far. He could honestly say that Sten's precognition far outstripped his own, as did his pyrokinesis - though, to be fair, Nyxos' preferred element was the pure energy of the Warp, versatile enough that he had little use for the others, even if he was capable of them.

Late, as usual.

The Interrogator's distinct lack of respect for promptness showed more and more as her time in the Inquisitor's service lasted. She sat in her room, ignoring the summons as she slowly pulled on the red and gold armor, the psyber-raven Archimedes on a desk nearby. Occasionally, it would let loose a caw, as if telling her to hurry up. Finally, her armor on, she began to sling weapons onto her body. An unwarded hellrifle sat in a holster on her back, the weapon looking like one of the primitive hunting rifles on lesser worlds. An inferno pistol was in the holster at her hip, like always. Her left hand was clenched around a staff, etched with the names of ninety-nine daemons.

Anna strolled through the hall, robotic bird perched on her shoulder, staff twirling unceremoniously in her hand. From the sounds coming from the end of the hall, the meeting was either underway or very close to it. Her long blonde hair fell behind her back as she hurried through the door, giving a small nod to the assembled group. Her eyes darted between the psykers in the room, looking for any sign of discomfort. Being a massive black hole in the warp, she practically sucked in psychic energy like a void when it got too close. It was always nice to see the discomfort on their faces.

A small smile playing on her lips, she took her seat near the ork, seemingly unperturbed by the greenskins presence. However, the bird on her shoulder glared at Gorgutz, head tilted slightly to the side, as if it were examining it like some kind of interesting experiment. Anna made herself comfortable, leaning back in her seat, arms folded up behind her head to form a sort of cushion as her gaze rested on their "esteemed" leader.

Xerus gave the precognitive psyker his attention while he listed off what his tarot readings had found. A long, arduous journey rife with fear, loathing, and regret, of all things. But his greatest concern from the tarot reading was relieved when the man spoke of an object of great power. Perfect, so the tarot itself also indicated such an item existing at the end of this journey. Good, good, he couldn't have this be some wild goose chase, not with what was staked upon this mission's success. He responded to the psyker, his voice holding the tone of command, firm but he was not hostile in the slightest, even sounding like he welcomed the psyker's news as an expected turn of events. He inwardly smiled at the thought that readings on him and other facets of the mission failed, as he expected them to. He was protected, after all, he couldn't have unwelcome onlookers taking peaks at his business. "Thank you for taking the time to make a reading Revna, the tarot is a powerful tool in the right hands, and I trust that yours will prove just once more."

Next he addressed the Ork, Gorgutz as the beast called itself. That had been an interesting acquisition, very interesting, to put it mildly. The warlord had seconded him the Ork sitting before him now, a massive brute that was more than capable of putting a lot of rounds down range with that Kombi Shoota of his. He would have to ask Sgt. Westfield if the man had a chance to figure out how such a contraption worked, if at all. The brute questioned why they were in the briefing room if they weren't already briefing, in his own unique way of saying such things, and the Inquisitor smirked, inclining his head at the Ork as he finished speaking. "We can hardly start talking without the rest of the team here, we would have to just repeat ourselves as the later arriving folks got here, it is best to allow everyone to be here before starting."

A voice in his head announced that the Harlequin was more than aware of his request to meet him and his retinue for this mission, although he did wish for a safe landing point to meet up with them, for perfectly understandable reasons of course. Xenophobic members of his retinue may shoot before they think, after all, and he had a few in mind already. He formed a message and returned it in kind, curt and polite, which also kept emotion or surface thoughts from following the message back to the Eldar. "I understand fully, and I will have the destination in mind with this message. You will meet up with the Retinue and myself at the landing site for the shuttle, which will give me ample time and room to introduce you to the more, ahem, trigger happy servants." He would also send a copy of the brief the Eldar's way, so he could review those details along the way on his own trip.

The Crusader assigned as a body guard and defensive member of his retinue arrived, as well as a preacher of the Imperial Truth, as he had heard on occasion. He returned the bow to the man, however, The man said nothing, so the Inquisitor had nothing to say in return as he took up a posting nearby, scanning the area and lingering on the ork for a bit longer than the others, which he noted. As long as the man did not go and try to slay the Ork until its purpose was fulfilled, then he had no qualms with the Crusader. He did not have to like the Ork, so long as he worked with the brute. But that would be of little concern, relatively speaking, compared to who walked in the door next, one of two that he had not planned on having along for the journey, and this one would most likely be the more problematic of the two.

Inquisitor Korvis Alls, assigned to him to act as an expert on daemons and their methods of banishing them. He knew of some of her work, impressive, but a rather hard line puritan. But she was under his direct command, and while he didn't trust her not to be acting on the accord of other Inquisitors, which was not that uncommon after all, his distrust of the woman extended to her Assassin, a Death Cult by the looks of her attire, but he smiled and inclined his head in polite greeting to the two of them, as if nothing in the world remotely bothered him. "Do not worry, Inquisitor, you and your Acolyte are perfectly within time, we are waiting for a few more before we begin proper. And while I do understand you and your Assassin's distrust of the Xeno, I ask you stay your hand, for they have proven far too useful not to keep around." He smiled calmly at them after saying this before moving his attention onto the next part of the retinue to enter.

The Ogyrn that was called Heef Rog arrived, struggling to enter and crushing the seat he had went towards. Granted, the floor suited him well for the fact that his height now was more matching of hte others, and his simple statement understated the massive Ogryn's usefulness in the field. Sgt. Westfield had told him that, on more than one occasion, that Ogryn assigned to his unit had proven invaluable, especially when the fight got up close and nasty. So he had claimed the Ogryn from execution, and the Sergeant nodded warmly to the abhuman as he sat down. The man approved of such beasts of war, no doubt an influence from his time in the Guard, and the Inquisitor calmly inclined his head in response to the Ogryn as well before the next member walked in as well.

Having a Grey Knight Librarian assigned to his retinue for this mission was a blessing, after all, such potent warriors proved resolute and unyielding in the face of Chaos, and any enemy that might cross their path. Nyxos himself was a burning, powerful example of such prowess from the Grey Knights, and even one could easily turn the tide of battle. He returned his nod to the Librarian, who quietly fell into discussion with the Pysker over the results of his readings of the tarot. It was not surprising that the psykers would get along easily, and he did not mind their discussions before the briefing began in proper. But of course, last but certainly not least, was a second Inquisitor assigned beneath him for various reasons, although this one was far more promising in many ways.

Interrogator Anna Cassius was an odd sort, from what he had gathered from his digging upon the woman. Wielded weapons fielded by brazen Radicals as well as Puritans, her Hellrifle and Truename staff respectively. He knew both these weapons on sight, as well as from the descriptions that Westfield had given him from what glimpses he had gotten. Not all of the Retinue would trust their gear to the ex Stormtrooper, even if he was unparalleled in his trade, but it was to be expected. But as she walked in, he greeted her calmly enough, powering up the view screen to display a series of data readouts on system history, population counts, and other information one could tap from the Administratum records. The Inquisitor calmly linked his hands behind his back, as the screen focused on one specific planet, the only one that naturally could support some population of people. "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is a shrine world class planet, odd as it may seem to be out this far with such a classification. It houses holy relics and texts of various degrees of value. And it has recently gone dark, just as I discovered hints of a relic from before the Horus Heresy, capable of supplementing Warp Travel by its normal means. And before any of you ask, there is not a Conclave being called to avoid drawing attention to this discovery. Subtly is vital, which is why I will be operating separate of the Retinue until necessary otherwise. I will provide hands off support, and draw attention to other objectives and false missions."

Xerus let that information sink in, that his own interactions would be limited due to how well known he had become amongst many circles. "Now, your objective here is not to save this world, though if you can that would be admirable, of course. There are records within the library of the complex that hold clues to the first holding place for this relic. The previous guardians chose a wise, if infuriating, means of defending the relic. They had to keep track of it, but could not obviously keep an up to date record at all times, for fear of losing it and giving up the location to unwelcome attention. So they scattered a long, winding trail that only a wise, loyal Imperial could manage to keep up with, let alone track down. But these records should have the next location that we need to go to, as well as some more gleaning information about said relic beyond what we know now. We don't know what caused the planet to go dark, so be ready for anything. Questions?"

Gorgutz gave his head a nod in response to the answer he received from the inquisitor. It was pretty smarties to wait for all da odder people to show up before the talkies started. Made the talkies shorter and the fightin longer. As Gorgutz listened to the bossman talk about where they were goin and what dey were doin, he piped up again and asked. "So bossman, what isn't to be shot at? I assumin dat the people who are here are on da 'no shooties' list." Gorgutz trailed off for a few moments before he added. "Oh yah! Does I getz to use ma warbike? It gotz lotza dakka!" Gorgutz enjoyed using his warbike. It's dakka was always handy! Gorgutz liked dakka, it was natural to all orky kind to enjoy da dakka.

Gorgutz wasn't bothered by the odder people comin into the talkies room, it meant that the talkies went by faster and the dakka came faster! He paid the odders no heed as he waited for the bossman to leave, bossman leaving meant he could go get his shoota, and his shoota meant dakka time!

Tobias' face remained impressively impassive with each addition to the ever diverse band of Inquisitorial underlings. He only moved from his ready position by the end of the table on two occasions, both to welcome the additional Inquisitors with two more deep bows of reverence(Although if the intention was from respect or wariness, none could tell). Each time, the Crusader retreated back to his oddly relaxed stance seconds later, always keeping a gauntleted hand on the hilt of his power-swathed blade.

Upon closer inspection, even the stoic guardian seemed to be hiding some hidden judgments for the newcomers. Every time that Tobias' constantly traveling gaze lit upon the assassin or the Orkish Nob, there was a minute tightening around the handle of the sheathed power-sword, followed by the relaxation that followed every time the massive figure of the Grey Knight filled his vision. Additionally, every time the Ogryn shifted, the Crusader's muscles tensed for a fraction of a second before confirming that the abhuman was not about to do something monumentally brutish and stupid.

It was only after the Lord Inquisitor finished that the meaning behind the words sunk in, and Tobias' casual scan of the room came to an abrupt halt as the man's head jerked awkwardly to stare directly at his superior. Even the inconsequential ramblings of the Xeno did little to break the churning thoughts of the stubborn warrior. The Crusader's mouth hung open for a solid second and a half before he voiced the worries that suddenly plagued his religiously devout mind.

"Lord Inquisitor, will I be assigned to this mission as well? It is difficult to protect my charge when I am planets away." His voice, previously unused, was both rich and carefully regulated, each draw of breath flowing to a simple and efficient tempo. "Or will you be transferring my protection to one of the other Inquisitors at your discretion?"

After receiving the response from the Inquisitor, Narr smiled to himself. It was refreshing to meet a human who was so pleasant to him. He informed the pilot, and the Troupe Master of the details of the briefing, and the Motley fell swiftly into orbit above the planet in question.

"I'll use the Warp Gate. Point me at that spot...there." Narr said to the pilot, pointing at the spot where the inquisitor had said they would be landing. With that, the Harlequin was off, practically skipping to the warp-gate teleporter hall. He was interrupted by his Troupe Master, who placed a hand on is shoulder.

"Narr Nirien," The Avatar said, "Be careful. Once we drop you onto that planet, you're in Xersus' hands. The warp gates are a one-way drop planet side, and it would be too dangerous to land the ship and pick you up. We don't know what kind of anti-aircraft defenses that human colony-world holds. When you materialize on that planet, you're on your own. We'll retreat back into the Webway and await your report. Remember, the Seers say that what happens with that group is of the utmost importance. Keep a careful eye on things, and may Cegorach smile upon you." The Avatar took his hand off of Narr's shoulder and let him go. Narr smiled back at him silently in response, turned on his heel, and walked straight into the warp gate.

He felt a rush as the psychic energies of the personal teleportation device washed over him for a moment, and then he took another step, and felt solid ground beneath his feet, instead of the Wraithbone floors of the Motley. He looked around at the place where the human shuttle would land. He gave a shrug, and layed on his back, arms behind his head, watching the sky. Alright, Xersus, he thought to himself, Ready when you are.

Sten was displeased by the presence of the Ork among this delegation, as he was at the psychic messages he sensed from the Eldar; having worked with the Eldar Harlequin before, he was familiar with his psychic 'smell.' He was unable to make out any details of the message, and neither did he care to, for it was business for the Inquisitor and the Inquisitor only. However, the Interrogator's presence disturbed him by far more. The subtle background noises he always heard from the warp died out as she entered the room, as did the flame at the tip of his lho-stick. He could almost see the emptiness of her soul spilling through her eyes, creating a choking cloud of... nothing. Sten shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Every fiber of his being thought only of getting out of the room and away from her, until his gathered his focus and followed the example of the inquisitor and the grey knight. Sten couldn't comprehend how the Inquisitor could be in the same room as her and show not a trace of discomfort. The space marine librarian, he was less surprised at for his lack of apparent discomfort, for the space marines were more than simply human, and likely were not troubled by many things mere mortals did. At least I won't have to worry about falling asleep anymore. he thought. He focused on the mission briefing, which was lacking quite a few details. The idea of jumping into the unknown was alien and uncomfortable to Sten, as he usually had a hint as to what he was yet to encounter. Perhaps the currents of the warp would clear once he got to the surface.

Heef reached around to his back pocket peeling the wreckage of the chair of his backside in the process and withdrew a large battered tin. He prised open the container, a simple metal box coloured in dark green, and withdrew a cigar which was dwarfed in his meaty hand. Taking care with the small package of genuine tobacco, a small gift from the black market Ratlings in his previous regiment upon handing over some strange yellow metal, and opened his mouth. Placing the entire cigar into his maw and clamping his jaw shut on it sealing it fully inside his mouth.

As the inquisitor and the gunnery sergeant nodded in his direction Heef nodded back uncertainly and began to chew blankly, crushing the potent cigar into an eye watering paste between his molars. He nodded along with the general speech made by the inquisitor paying little attention to the long speech is was when he was ordered to do something that was when he had to pay attention. However when the Ork spoke he was jolted from his vacant nodding by the butchered gothic the beast he could barely understand. The Ogryn turned to Gorgutz as if seeing the Ork all over again, having forgot that the beast was sitting at the table entirely, bunching his fists as he recognised the xenos from the small book he’d been told not to lose, the one with not very many pictures.

The stuff he had been read to from the book had detailed how to kill Orks but not how to deal with them when they are sitting in a chair and talking to you. Unsure of what to do, Heef simply stared at the Ork with vacant eyes, his hands clenching and unclenching as they reached for weapons that were currently sitting on the shuttle they were to depart on. He nodded at Gorgutz.

“What’s tha’ doin’ there?”

When the Blank walked in, Nyxos gave her a polite nod. He could feel her presence like a sucking void, a black hole in the warp to rival his own supernova of light - a severe discomfort, but as a Grey Knight he was long since used to far worse, and went out of his way to be courteous to her, even if simply to deny her the satisfaction of seeing him squirm. Drawing his psychic energy in close, as he usually did when he wished to avoid psychic detection, he calmly compressed his power deep into his centre, pulling it as far as possible from the Blank and her draining influence.

It wasn't that he had anything against Blanks personally - he rather liked Anna, truth be told, with her straightforward attitude and not least the fact that her simple presence could weaken or even kill daemons - but they naturally grated on his soul, far more so than a normal person, since he was fully aware of what she was. In fact, his sensitivity to such things was markedly above even his fellow Librarians thanks to his ability with the Flow. He could always feel the currents of the Warp, and as such his Warp-senses were far more acute than the norm. It was both a blessing and a curse - he could often detect subtleties that others would miss, and feel summonings before others, but on the other hand, it made him more vulnerable to large distortions and discharges such as would be caused by an Exterminatus. The last time that had happened, he had only been a system over, and had suddenly collapsed against a wall, white-faced and sweating. He hated feeling such things resounding across the Immaterium, for all he knew that it was necessary.

What he much preferred were the Warp-signatures of those such as the Harlequin. He knew that it bordered on heresy, and would get him killed immediately by some, but he had to admit he liked him. He was the quintessential jester, something Nyxos found amusing in these dark times. And, if he was honest with himself, he'd always had a great deal of respect for the Eldar and their psychic abilities. He would give a lot to have the chance to meet a Farseer, though he knew that it was but an idle dream with almost no chance of fruition.

Sighing internally, he returned his attention to the matter at hand.

As the Inquisitor began speaking, Anna rested her head back on her arms, sank a little in her seat, and shut her eyes, feigning a lack of both interest and respect for her peers. Really, she was paying attention just as intently as the rest of them, perhaps even moreso. It would be one of her few assignments where she wasn't dropped on a planet full of daemons running around slaughtering everything in sight. Or lobbing fireballs at her general direction, which she'd never really get used to just taking head on, even if they didn't do anything to her.

She waited, rather uncharacteristically patient, as the rest of the retinue asked their questions, her left eye opening halfway to glance sideways at the ork who wanted to use his warbike. If they were going to head straight into battle, she'd absolutely love it if he got to use it. Then her eye turned to look at the ogryn, grey gaze staring intently at the oaf. She had nothing against him, but at times he could be as stupid, or even more, than the ork. Especially now, when he questioned the Inquisitor's decision to allow the ork to fight alongside him.

As for their resident psykers, well, she was a bit disappointed to say the least. Sten, the pyrokinetic, did what she had expected, which was moving the hell away from her. As for the Grey Knight, well, it was less eventful. She could feel the amount of psychic energy in the room dwindle until it filled only the pair in the room, where she was only drawing on a fraction of what they were capable of. At least, a fraction of what Nyxos was capable of. But, there was no true reaction from him, which grated on her nerves more than it should have. One of these days, she'd catch him without his armor, and she'd get him then. Probably get flung across a room or through a wall for it, but it'd be worth it.

"So, what I'm hearing," she said, the accent and tone of her voice marking her down as some kind of arrogant thug, "is that we'll be jumping into the dark without a clue as to what we're getting into, and subtly get into a library, when we've got a trigger happy ork, an ogryn, and a Grey Knight. We might as well have some Astartes drop into the middle of a city, for all the subtlety that'll be." She frowned at the lot, finally sitting up straight, resting her elbows on the table while her fingers laced together. "Not to mention I'm a leech that makes everyone uncomfortable just by being in the same room as them, the other Inquisitor has an assassin following her around, and our other psyker doesn't look like your average human, what with that thing he's got on his head. We are the exact opposite of subtle."