Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-1734134-20180205202802/@comment-1734134-20180403171447

The Chaplain glares at Anat through his helmet, a dread presence filling the room as the red clad warrior pushes the arrogant Raven Guard over to the doorway with the butt of his mace, “Watch your tongue arrogant boy, I have no need of your disrespect, not at this time”. The prisoner is left squirming, Vroch drawing closer, checking to see if he can still speak.

The Imperial Fist nods, and goes off to fulfil his tasks, guiding the other Space Marines to begin establishing what defences they can from the wreckage and rubble they are able to find. By the time Jarik reaches the field hospital, the Apothecary and Alpha Legionnaire are helping the Night Lord off his feet, and preparing to attend to other wounded.

Despite the failure of his first attempt, the confusion and stress open up a hole in the mental defences of the prisoner, allowing Vardes to peer into the thoughts of the prisoner. They are a jumbled mess, but one strain of thought stands out,

“They are not aliens, nor are they allies, they are our servants.”