As Macer entered the room, he did it with the start comfidence that world eaters so often possessed, he dident walk in file, he dident do a stance or anything normally behavior of a soldier or legionaire, to care about stature and that kind of stuff was unesseary, he was a warrior through and through and thats all he cared. Chains ran from his arms down to his axes hefted on his thighs, the chains clakering together since they had length to let him move his arms about without also drawing any of his axes, his bolt pistol holstered on his chest. He still wore his helmet, so no one could see the snear on his face, working with eldar, they allways acted like high riders, he dident care for them, but for now it would have to do, atleast he would get to fights, and who knew what might happen. For now he just stood amongst the others, not even giving them a look, as he stood with arms crossed waiting for something to happen, the nails sending tremors of pain through him for not acting in the moment, making his twitchy with visual tics and small movements
"I may not see you, but I can feel your stance, Wych. At least someone here who got... Seasoned through the Arenas of the Dark City. I will look forwards of fighting along you, one who at least understands survival over fairness. Too bad the attractiveness told by your kin about the Wyches has no effect on me." The Hammerhead chuckled with his deep voice, still sit-laying relaxed next to his mistress. More was he attempting to taunt without getting personal, because at first even the Eldar abided him, until he could prove himself in the arenas. Many believed he would die due to his blindness in the first round, oh how they had underestimated this foreign, exotic creature. To feel them die though was far more pleasing than he had expected at first, and now? Now he could kill and get rewards from his mistress, it was a double victory.
"Perhaps you must watch your tongue when it jests, lest I remove it for you. Being a fellow veteran of the Arenas does not guarantee your safety... But at least, you would not be as useless as a Human, who can die with the mere flick of a wrist." Khelthea replied, an equal amount of contempt and begrudging respect seeping into her voice. If that creature was able to survive the Arenas, then he should be better than any Mon'Keigh.... Still, the Dark Eldar had her reservations, for only Eldar were truly good in the Arena, and the alien could have just been lucky enough to avoid a serious opponent.
The alien laughed softly, entertained, before replying in Eldarin. "Mhhhh I like the taste of your feistiness and pride. Just remember your place as a gladiator... For we all are servants of the true mistress of the galaxy, Erythea.... It would be a shame would I have to remove your head from your shoulders just because you thought yourself to attempt to take her throne, like the Comorrites all the time attempt to overpower one another. And.... I indeed am not as pathetic as the Mon'keigh, who cannot even comprehend your language."
When the creature had started talking to the dark eldar Malrak was intrigued to say the least. He had never seen such a creature and the fact that even with out eyes it could sense them some how made him even more curious. He brought up his journal/note book by lifting it with his powers and took some notes as well as a quick sketch of the creature with a small pen he also lifted with his powers though doing this took some most of his concentration as for obvious reasons he didn't want to accidentally crush or rip the book apart. The use of his powers made the hundreds of small marks of tzeentch stitched into his cloak glow as if they were embers from a fire. When It started to speak in a language that he assumed was some kind of eldar tongue he wrote down even more his excitement into discovering such a stange creature cause the marks to glow brighter as if on fire.
"How dare you defile the language of your superiors! I would never decide to overthrow Erythera just because it would be the next stepping stone on the way to power! " Khelthera yelled in Eldarin, outraged by the fact that the thing could speak Eldarin. Even if anyone who couldn't understand Eldarin couldn't understand what she said, suddenly grabbing her dagger and yelling would make it quite clear she was seeing red, and very ready to gut someone like a fish for their insolence. Even more so by what the alien had implied, considering the idea of killing Eyrthera to get onto the next step on the road to power had crossed her mind more than once.
All that Nurglite filth everyone had been so wary of at last came to a head as Orghast approached their mistresses' throne. Signs of corrosion and disease had been notable in several areas upon the vessel but till now only Erythea had been the only one among this gathering to even see the plague marine. A droning buzz heralded his arrival which was swiftly joined by constant chain of wet slaps as sagging rolls of bloated fat flesh slapped against each other with each step, contracting around a deep pit in his stomach that was currently sealed by a series of curved teeth which looked like sutures of bone. Gut mouth momentarily parting for a deep sigh Orghast opened true mouth proper and with a deathly wheeze he slowly swept gaze about studying each and every figure. Eyes hooding a swollen pink tongue ran around the circumference of rounded leech-like maw gladly cutting it against deformed teeth allowing blood and pus to run free down throat and distended lower lip with an almost pleased sigh. "Bickering already...just like- " stopping a moment to clear his throat with a wet snort, "like the good ol' days. " What first appeared to just be a heavily corroded cybernetic arm was revealed to be a modified power klaw. A common three blade grip of Orkish design mingled with extensive Heretek modifications that allowed the actual machine to run rather than relying on now non-existent Orkish psyche. A ripple of lightning ran the length of each blade as he closed all together with a screech, eyes alight with mirth.
The Hammerheaded alien laughed further in joy. "Relax, Wych. We fight on the same side." He leaned back with a soft smile. "And it would be a shame would I not even be able to understand my mistress' native language, would it not?" He stroke over the elongated shape of his head and grinned fiendish.
" "Yes, we do fight on the same side..... But the fact you know Eldarin does not please me at all." Khelthera grumbled, it would be an understatement to say she was not happy with the alien being able to speak the language of the Eldar, because by what right does it have to learn it when it was the tongue of its betters..... However, if there was a silver lining, it was that at least that if the Hammerhead alien was an 'ally' she could depend upon, they could communicate without anyone being the wiser about what they were actually talking about. The Wych let go of her dagger, the expression of on her face dissipating nearly as fast as it arrived.
Thermidor would glance over at Orghast, ensuring that his rebreather was functioning at full capacity. Disgusting He would then turn back to look at the throne in the center of the room, looking at the odd xenos at the foot of the throne, sitting there like a glorified pet, wondering how it 'saw' him without eyes. Thermidor would then look at Erythea, specifically her armor, each lens cycling through different spectrums in an attempt to discover something new about the substance, he never understood wraithbone, where it came from, how it worked. The Eldar seemed to use it for everything, from their structures to armor to weaponry, even to conduct energy. It defied almost everything he knew about construction. As the two Xenos started bickering in their language, a soft *click* could be heard from under Thermidor's hood. He wondered if he could convince one of the Xenos to aid him in a translation software, he didn't like not knowing what was being spoken right in front of him.
