An almost smile broke across Warmunds still face as the foolish Vostrayan pushed against the heavy door, it was clear to his trained forge world eyes that the hinges were automatic, the hissing that came next proved his theory. As the Vostrayn stumbled forward Warmund stepped out and held his arm to steady him, giving him a stable object to push down upon to stand.

Bright lights had never agreed with him, or in fact the majority of his order, preferring to be hidden in the darkness, or in the crowd. As he entered the medically smelling room he noticed he others checking its interior and chose not to copy - if anything was going to happen, it would have been done already. Though Warmund did closely inspect what was on the other side of the glass, especially the servo's and the body - the man was of no harm he was sure.

Suddenly the Vostrayan was kneeling and asking the others to do the same, but no such action was sought after by the individual, and Warmund was not one to do that which is unnecessary, but his masters at the Vindicare Temple had told him to conform to some of societies and his squad mates beliefs and actions. Thus Warmund bent took down his right knee and rested a clenched fist in its place, looking up to the figure instead of down - as is disrespectful within the Temple and not at all what an assassin should ever do.

Instead oh blindly throwing himself forward as the Vostrayan did, Holand he believed was his name, Warmund spoke to the figure in his metallic tone that took the listener by the throat and bent their ear to his voice. " As presumptions go, I believe I am correct in thinking you called us here, and that that is the body of Arbest?" falling silent for a moment, Warmund stood back up and strolled over to the window as he would to any other in conversation and crossed his arms to get comfortable.