[h3]>Rodrick Yorke[/h3]
	
	Having positioned himself near the door way of the now descending vessel, Rodrick would do his best not to stir. Having been born on a more natural and vibrant planet, the claustrophobic and metallic setting he found himself in did not sit well with the missionary. But, his new 'patrons' demanded his presence here, as did the Emperor; as such, he would not hesitate to do what was required. Still, he could've done without this deathbox, snarling under his breath at every subtle movement the machine made in it's descent. As time crept by, the man began to fidget with his armaments: the shotgun held aloft upon the holster on his back, the Stub-pistol tucked away on his left hip, and the heavy warhammer that nearly drug against the ground on his right. He did all this with his biological arm, his left sitting idle; the metal and golden etchings shining faintly with the passing of the lights in the corridor. Once everything seemed to be in place -or his unease subsided- his hand would sweep through his thick brown mane, swept back to keep from impairing the vision of the man.

	As his self inspection concluded, 'Brother' Yorke would begin to gaze about the party. Surely, the Emperor had an eclectic taste in the matter. Not only did he see members of different members of the Imperium- ranging from Guardsman to Sororitas- but an assasin and a psycher as well. With a shake of his head and a subtle chuckle, the man could not help but find humor in the ones he was to rely on. However, the one that drew his attention the most, was the 'Sister of Battle'. It bode well for their mission that the Emperor saw fit to put one of the militant sisters in their ranks. Yet, when the guardsman spoke, his attention was redirected to the aging soldier and his heavy accent, causing the slowly forming smirk upon the missionaries face to take a harsh turn to a disapproving frown. He had begun to enjoy the silence.

	"Observant one, you are. You must've played scout for your regiment." Rodrick's tone, though regal, did a poor job at masking the slight annoyance he was experiencing... Or perhaps he did not mean to hide it at all. Still, with a shake of his head, his tone would shift to a more cival note, "The Emperor calls upon many skills these days. The Inquisition saw need of our talents in his name, and -as such- we are here."

[hr]
>Self inspection
>Group inspection
>Reply