Vander nods, mostly to himself, feeling strange relief to be able to remove himself from the Inquisitor's presence and his work for a short amount of time. As he spins on his heel and begins to hurry away, he only slowly begins to realise exactly how wired his nerves were in the Inquisitor's...
Vander absorbed the Inquisitor's instructions with quiet solemnity, keeping his thoughts to himself for the time being. For some reason, he found he couldn't keep his gaze up after spying the carvings, and so simply bowed his head in reverence. Despite that, though, he began to feel a distinct...
For all his long-legged strides and for all the Inquisitor's frozen calm, Vander finds himself having great difficulty in keeping pace with the man as he's led through the dark. His hands sway mechanically at his sides with his vigorous steps, but his fingers wring uselessly at the air all the...
It takes Vander longer than it really should to puzzle through the words that have just left the Inquisitor's mouth, but when he pulls it off he's so fast to his feet that his interrogation chair would've toppled over behind him if it wasn't bolted to the floor. He hurries on in the Inquisitor's...
Tzeentch. The word was like a slap. It's Chaos, then. It really is the servants of Chaos. Here. On Holtstrad. It felt like he'd known it all along. He could scarcely comprehend how hundreds of murders could be carried out overnight, nor how the mere nature of such deeds could tear cracks in the...
That was it, then. His mind was his own and his soul was the Emperor's -- for the time being. It was . . . inexplicably disappointing, he had to admit. Simple survival seemed an anticlimax after the ratcheting tensions of the past few minutes.
"He spoke of a master, and of events already set...
"Whichever set of news confirms or denies those suspicions of yours, my lord," Vander responds without missing a beat, surprised by how at ease he feels with whatever is to come. 'Son', is it?
Vander sits frozen rigid for a moment, staring up into the psyker's eyeless face before slumping back into his seat. He reaches up to clutch his head, rub his eyes, mop his face, but by the time he looks back up the psyker's already most of the way out the door. He opens his mouth to speak, as...
Vander deflated with a long sigh, relaxing all the muscles he hadn't realised he was tensing at once. After the relief of survival, the offhanded praise the Inquisitor was about as appetising as another fine meal after he'd gorged himself. He had nothing to say -- couldn't muster words in the...
"I . . . "
Despite the bolt pistol aimed in his face, Vander soon found himself vigorously fighting down a horrifically inappropriate urge to burst out laughing. The absurdity of it! Him! The Chirurgeon Killer! It . . .
It hit him like icy water to the face. He had spent so long trying to...
Vander studied the bolt weapon's barrel for a fleeting instant before lowering himself precariously into a seat opposite the Inquisitor. Hands folding in plain view on the table before him, he cleared his throat and kept his head bowed deferentially low. The space of table, blank and...
Eight of ten cats agree that H:tV is, in fact, the shizzle.
I've been running it on Skype for a couple of months and would so be down for participating in a game as a player for a change.
Vander ducks his head like a whipped dog and quickly makes his way out of the cell, falling into step beside the Inquisitor. He takes in the layout of room with only the briefest of glances up and feels a chill in his stomach as he recognises it almost immediately . . . but of course, this...
Vander furrowed his brow and stared ahead into the blackness, stranger's eyes grappling for details that weren't there. The silence was deafening, the emptiness was claustrophobic. For a man who by holy vocation surrounded himself in clutter and data, this was hellish. He wasn't sure how much...
It does. It's been occurring to him regularly for years, now, and as the order is given it's as though it's all the proof he needs. He's just shot a man in the arm, a Senior Judge's personal assistant, and now he's being taken into custody by his fellow Arbitrators. He's insane, it's quite clear...
Vander lowers his weapon, then has the foresight to drop it entirely and take a step back from the lasweapon that nearly punched him in the nose, signing the aquila in a benedictory gesture before raising his hands to show that they're empty. He grits his teeth as he mentally reviews all the...
"My master." Singular. Male. Even now, he could barely help himself. He flinched despite himself as the bloody blade clattered to the floor, but his aim was unwavering. The dissonant smile playing across the murderer's face and the ease with which he'd relinquished the part he had to play in all...