[i]'Why the hell did I get fitted into this pod with all these Wee Tykes?'[/i], Holand thought as the elevator descended to it's final destination. This Inquisition initiation process had not been kind on Holand, his remote origins a big factor in it. He had started to long for the crisp, familiar cold of Kilo II, and laid bored in his bed on numerous sleepless nights. The interrogations only added salt to the wound. If you hadn't already known, Holand despised mind games, and the Inquisition only further probed his poor memory.
Now, enveloped in a long trench coat that hid his scarlett Vostrayan uniform, Holand stood with the diverse crowd of Acolytes that could possibly become his future teammates. The disturbed face of the Pysker and metallic arm of the- [i]'What was he? A missionary? Yeah, he looks like he would be...'[/i]- Missionary caused Holand slight distress. Pyskers, as Holand believed, were warp distorted carcasses of their past lives. And any man that didn't take pride in his scars and maimings and covered them up with fake appendages was not a man at all. [color=ed1c24][i]"Well, seems like this is quite a diverse crowd. Nice to meet the lot of ya' all."[/i][/color], Holand finally spoke, his thick accent booming in the small elevator.
[s]--------------------------------------------------------------[/s]
[b]Actions[/b][list]
[*]Evaluate Future Teammates
[*]Speak
[/list]