Just as quickly as it shifted to the Servitor, Syla's attention once again hopped towards the growing crowd. The girl opened up her mouth to acknowledge the member of the Ecclesiarchy, but the chirurgeon spoke up first, introducing himself as Tekart. His comment on introductions brought a smile to her face. [color=red]"One of us is always going to be dying sometime, Doc."[/color] The girl straightened herself up, gently adjusting the flowing robe that covered her body. [color=red]"Syla Selulata: Adeptus Mechanicus Enginseer."[/color] Syla stated her name proudly, holding a vigorous tone. It was obvious she thought highly of herself. [i]Either that or she didn't really think at all.[/i] With such a [i]formal[/i] introduction, one might expect a salute, but replacing it, the machine cultist merely offered her host of comrades a gentle wave.

The Psyker was the next to hop aboard the train of dialogue. With incredibly polite words and a slightly off-put tone, he gave the name Markus. The soldier [i](The soulless one)[/i] soon followed suit dubbing himself Octavian. It was definitely a unique group. Each one of them had their own unique traits the likes of which Syla had never come across in her lifetime. Syla didn't have time to point them out, however, as the entire group was keen on getting a move on. She wasn't one to disagree. When it came to her limited knowledge of the Inquisition, she knew there was no good to come of upsetting an inquisitor. It would have to

[color=red]"Let's get going, then!"[/color] Syla swiveled on her heels as she gave her exclamation. From behind a pack on Syla's back swung a long silver mechadendrite, its tendril capped with an optical sensor. The lithe and long machine gently bonked the Servitor on the side of the head, as if the cultist was trying to get it to start up. [i]Hitting things was a rather common practice among the Enginseers, though Syla was never quite certain how it all worked, just that it did.[/i]