Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25684606-20180501184035/@comment-25684606-20180710175550

"Toma, get the Inquisitor", The Arbite commanded as she went outside with the Marine, the Sisters and the priest. Right outside the door, she flipped up the hood of her cloak to protect herself against the rain, which was still falling in thick drops. The lighter landed right next to the Aquila, swaying slightly in the wind and coming to a halt with a brief screech of metal landing pads on the ferrocrete landing platform.

As soon as it stood, the sidewards mounted hatches slid open, revealing the spacious, spartan interior. It was worlds below the cushioned comfort of the Aquila and clearly less well-tended to. Specks of rust dotted the corners, the already thin padding of the seats was worn out and scuffed and the plas covers of the lights had taken on a yellow tint.