Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-1734134-20171101093641/@comment-30488984-20171106015610

The weak boundaries put Aison on his guard for the neverborn are terrifying, even to an Astartes with his gifts. He never understood the Word Bearers obsession with them when such creatures would so gladly turn upon them should they feel like it. The proposition is interesting but Aison knows that Thousand Sons are known for their misdirection and deciet. Despite his wariness of the offer his interest rises dramatically at the prospect of a prize from a warlord so powerful to have Thousand Sons in his warhost. It is irresistable for the potential for such power and knowledge is the very reason for his existence now and so he walks out from behind his cover, Serpent's Lash in hand and unholsters his bolt pistol.

Pointing his sword at the Rubricane whilst releasing the safety from his bolt pistol with a click, Aison replies, "I would speak to you in person to seal such a bargain. I know this Rubricane is but merely your host, for I can sense that you are near but not with us. Show yourself to us so that I may see you cousin."

He stops pointing his sword and places it blade down to rest upon the ground infront of him, holding the pommel of his blade. Turning his head to the direction of Kale, nodding his head for him to join himself infront of the Rubricane. He eyes his bolter that the renegade so rudely took for his own, the Banestrike bolt shells in the magazine and in his pouches would be of much better use in his own hands with the aid of his supernatural aim should these Imperial warriors prove to be Astartes or even Inquisition.