Lurking in the shadows at the Archon's left shoulder and slightly behind, Thû listens in silence to Zar'uil's briefing, his face the oily blank mask - devoid of features beyond two glowing green eyes - that he likes to wear when hiding his thoughts. Which has been particularly often since his encounter in the Sea of the Souls. Putting the insistent forebodings out of his mind, he focuses on the mission at hand. A grab-and-run on an Imperial Inquisitor? Now things are getting interesting. Going over his mental journal of foes encountered and/or studied, he prepares himself for a hard and perplexing fight. Inquisitors are a diverse bunch with access to resources of exceeding quality and quantity both. Now throw in Astartes warriors AND Orks...this would be their most volatile mission yet. Fortunately, the twisted depths of an Imperial Hive city, with all its shadowed nooks and crannies, were a veritable playground to his kind, to say nothing of the vertical advantage offered to a sniper. As the domesticated Bonesinger is introduced, Thû raises a mental eyebrow. Certainly, there was no end to Zar'uil's surprises. @Colapse "By your leave, Lord - of what use is the wraithbone crafter on this mission? Her kind are artisans, not warriors, save for a rare few," he says, his tone a good deal more businesslike than usual when attending court.
Listening to the briefing, Heltherith was keeping her shock at the frankly casual way that the death of Baeleris seemed to have became an acceptable idea for everyone. So she gave a warm smile to the Bonesinger, trying to signal that yes, she was a friend rather than someone that the other Eldar should be afraid of. As for the rest of the mission, it seemed simple enough to the Wych given it meant avoid attracting attention, meeting with someone who'd give them all information, taking an important Mon'Keigh. Suffice to say, Orks and Astartes would have brought light to her heart if she was interested in proving herself, but for here they would just prove another foe that either words or Mirrorswords could deal with. Speaking of Mirrorswords, she had hers with one sider either side of her, attached to a belt that went around her hips. The Commorrite's glaive was slung across her back and her trusty Splinter Pistol on the same belt as her swords. All she needed to hear was the signal to go, and as much useful information as everyone was willing to let slip around her.
Briefing Kadara had observed the briefing from a perch above, listening to the Archon regale them with details about their mission, hearing the Scions' questions, quietly weighing them in her own mind as she contemplated the task at hand. Yet, it seemed the Archon had another surprise for them all. The willowy Craftworld kinswoman was introduced to them. The sound like a great gust of wind, and then the Scourge had descended among them. She touched ground where the Kabalites had released the Bonesinger, and leaned in against the smaller creature, her brutish form enveloping it, her wings momentarily obscuring the two of them before she folded them against her back. The Scourge loomed over the Bonesinger, putting her under close scrutiny, perhaps close enough for her breaths to fall against the Craftworlder's neck. "Hello, morsel," she greeted the Bonesinger, a cruel laugh playing at the edge of her voice, before she once more composed herself and slipped smoothly by the girl. It was the first time she had shown herself to the other Scions since her ascension. Her dark Ghostplate gave her a positively daemonic look, with the dark leathery wings and the large crests that resembled horns or a bat's ears. The Scourge held her helm under one arm, her Dark Lance in the other, and she sauntered into the gathering of Scions. Her lips were split in a feral grin, before she composed herself and brought her yellow eyes to the Archon again. "I am ready, Archon," she declared simply.
And there was the dampener to his mood, entering the scene on dark wings. It was no secret that none wished to share the skies of the Dark City, a standing and bitter rivalry between Hellion, Reaver, and Scourge. It was also no secret to any that knew Kholivaz that he hated Scourge and their Fleshcrafter surgeons more than any other denizen of the Dark City. A snort of derision emitted from within his mask as he eyed what had once been.. Well, he had made no effort to learn their names as of yet. Still, it was good to know who the obvious sell out was within the upper echelons of the Kabal. It was a matter of principle for the Helliarch. Hellions fought for everything. Every single scrap, every bit of gear, every rumor of their reputation. From the moment one walked down that path of anarchy, it was a true fight. While the Scourge may have their squabbles over carrion, they ultimately paid for their gift of flight. It was not the same. It was far from it for Kholivaz.
The Resident Bonesinger was alreadyusing every one of her faculties to remain a calm and composed outter appearance and the warm and friendlier smile from on of the dark kin, the wych who so frequented the slave pens, she relaxed the sight of a friendly face something she sorely missed. Unfortunately it lowered her guard. It was scarce a moment later before the Scourge who had stowed herself above landed and so graciously invaded Baeleris' personal space as if it were realspace. For someone who lived in fear of the normal Dark Kin the fact this one had teeth like the beasts exodites rode and wings to match coupled with the closeness the feel of that Things breath on her and she froze up paling ,being called a "morsel" by something that looked like it had dragged itself straight out of the warp. It wasnt until it-she spoke that Baeleris realized it had some semblance of sentience and wasnt some abomination. Suitable cowed and more than a little angry with herself over showing weakness she steeled her gaze and her stance standing attempting to appear as impassive as possible though not before sending a small smile the way of the wych hopeful that whatever thw wych had in mind it wouldnt be her immdiate and grisly demise as soon as she reached the end of the mission
By all rights the Archon's plaything being paraded out to be brought on the mission should have surprised him, but such 'surprises' seemed to be commonplace with their Archon. He merely grunted from behind his newest mask which resembled his newest pets, the Khymerae. The Eldar another thing to 'keep alive' during the mission besides their target. Speaking of that, truly another interesting assignment. They would certainly be in for a fight if this mon'keigh is as important as their title implies. "Am I correct to assume taking additional prisoners is 'discouraged' for this realspace raid? I am ready and waiting Archon." Simple question and a straight forward answer, his thoughts dancing from the mission to his current 'issues' within the kabal. He would deal with those hurdles once he returned. He smiled beneath his mask, the more after him just further inflating his ego. The former Heliarch of the Severed Hope was a more mysterious one, Aerith was more obvious in his hatred for Aesra, where Saghair was.... interesting to say the least. Much to think about, and much to do. More time to plan, but also more time for any plan to be discovered.
<Briefing> Archon smiled back at Baeleris' words, not paying attention to hungry looks thrown at her for he knew that his Scions are smart enough not to disobey his direct order. After all, he tested them again and again, all for the task ahead. Instead, he played with his signet ring as he listened to Mandrake's question. @Draconion "Builders, artisans, craftsmen. Bonesingers are that and many more. Rest assured - despite her looks, Baeleris here has sharp fangs and she can take care of herself. So this mission won't require too much babysitting on your part." @kanila "You would be wrong my most savage Beastmaster. Taking additional prisoners is not discouraged, however its not encouraged either. Simply - I do not care for anyone or anything else but the Inquisitor Kraus. Even my Mon-keigh agent Ebelhardt is disposable, so don't feel threatened by any of it. The only thing that will provoke my wrath is if the objective isn't completed, rest is irrelevant. Burn the entire hive city for all I care, just get me the Inquisitor." "Now if this is all, go to the armory, pick your stuff and head towards the hangars. Your Raider will be waiting for you." <Armory phase> @kanila @Draconion @Grall_Stonefist @Maleth @Kalle @Skarboy @bossaroo @Wata @Vlayden @Vulpas Within the armory, they would see Kouron organizing couple of Kabalites who were getting themselves armed. If it was worth anything, Aerith was with them, in the middle of getting spare ammo for his splinter pistol as the rest walked in. Besides him, there were couple of Hellions present, which could only mean that they too would be joining them on this mission as a part of the support force, the probability of Heliarch Saghiar being there high as well. Finally, a dozen or so Wyches took one corner of the armory, using blood from couple of slain slaves to sharpen their daggers and bathe themselves, readying for the conflict ahead. Once the Scions took everything they needed, they would find their own familiar Raider transport, the same one from the mission before, which had a more spacious deck as well as 2 additional splinter rifle turrets alongside the dark lance one in front. They would also see the familiar face of the Dark Eldar pilot waiting on them to hop on and make themselves comfortable. OOC like before, you can take 3 grenades from the pile (haywire, poison, stun, smoke, plasma, cryo, incendiary) and 2 doses of combat stims (similar rules like before apply): - Serpentin (d6 bonus on your next d3 attacks) - Adrenalight (an extra attack for d3 rounds) - Heartfire (after each suffered wound your blood "explodes", doing AoE damage on all characters in your close vicinity for d3 rounds) - Final Breath (after every successful attack a d6 is rolled, on 5,6 you instakill your opponent, for d3 rounds)
The armory, though it's stocks increased, was all to familiar to Aesra. Grabbing his gear from the numerous tables that held it, plasma, poison, and haywire grenades finding a temporary home with the rest of the gear he carried. Even though he didn't have an opportunity to use them last time he grabbed Serpentin and Final Breath combat drugs for that little 'extra' pick me up in battle, chances were good they would not go unused this time. Seeing the additional troops gathered in the armory he knew that Saghiar was somewhere nearby, but more importantly he saw the 'founder' of his fan club, Aerith. "Well Sabarite Aerith, did the information you were able to gather 'enlightening'?" The words carrying a hint of sarcasm as he watched the other for tells. Surely he was able to learn something about him, but how he would react could give hint to what exact extent that was. He knew that he had to leave Aerith alive to hang himself as per the Archon's orders, but at no point did he say he couldn't take a jab or two.
Kholivaz strolled into the armory on his way back to his own chamber, where he would collect his multitude of weapons and his newly claimed mount. Once again he took a stroll down the various weapon racks, fingers running along each weapon he passed with quiet judgement in his gaze. Of course none of these would do, not after he had once again taken to the skies. That was where he belonged and anything larger than what he carried might tarnish the experience. Still, the company was interesting.. After spending a moment leering at the gathered Wyches in their bloody ritual, his cruel laughter was easily audible to all in the room as he passed the gathering of Hellions. Surely word of his declaration had reached every one of their ilk from on this tier. Soon it may even make its way out into the Middle Darkness, that some former member of their breed had returned with larger than life ambitions. Grabbing his usual cocktails of Adrenalight and Final Breath, the Hellion decided to switch things up this time in terms of explosives. Smoke, Cryo, and Plasma were quickly hidden away along his unoccupied weapon belts. Shortly after that, his skyboard touched down on the deck of their Raider, it's razor wings of obsidian in desperate need of a paint job, but still radiating menace. He gave no recognition of any aboard save for their pilot, a chuckle as he motioned to his mount. "Can't trust you much further than the Gate, as you've made plainly clear."
Kadara had made her selections. Two dosages of Serpentin had been selected for this mission --- she needed her strikes to land true --- and she had opted for three plasma grenades, for those times when her Dark Lance would be best turned elsewhere. She prepared her armor's injectors for the drugs and collected her grenades. While the Scions readied and armed themselves, the vampiric-looking Scourge prowled momentarily through the group, yellow eyes scanning many of them for the first time in weeks, and then finally she followed Kholivaz to the Raider. Sadly, her wings could not hope to keep pace with the Raider for a whole journey, so she resigned herself to perching in the back of the Raider, leaning her Dark Lance against the side, though not carelessly. She cradled the weapon like a lover.
