"You are certain that [b]this[/b] is the correct location?"

The hustle and bustle of the 7th Arbites Fortress-Precinct was muffled, almost blocked out entirely, within the walls of the ornately decorated office-cum-study of Magistrate Arnaud Pellius; he was a gruff and grizzled veteran with over a thousand executions beneath his belt, a bull of a man with a shaven head of greying hair, his green eyes as sharp as the blade of a force-weapon and his mental faculties far beyond the intelligence that most would believe of a senior Arbitor.

Standing on the other side of his desk was none other than the ragged, but nevertheless menacing, figure of Father Wilbur.

"It is correct," replied the self-proclaimed clergyman, though what deity or pantheon of deities he [i]truly[/i] served was something that the Magistrate had often wondered of this seemingly faithless snitch, "I was visited only recently by two individuals seeking something." 

Arnaud gave a grim smile, leaning forward and propping his elbows up on the desk, gesturing for Wilbur to continue while he rummaged through a stack of holo-slates. What he was searching for was a mystery to the Father, who gave a quick shrug and went on.

"As I said, I directed two more of them to the Boutique - I imagine that should be enough for you to do as you wished?"

"Oh yes," chuckled the Magistrate, "more than enough."

For months now the Arbites had been working with local Enforcers on this level, seeking out and terminating all manner of heretical corruption - whether cults, sadistic orgies of bloodshed and sacrifice, or singular targets for kidnapping and interrogation - but only with the help of Father Wilbur and his less than savoury methods were they now able to put a large, shotgun round sized, nail in the largest coffin to be found in nearly the entire Hive. The Gentleman's Boutique had been a thorn in the side of the ambitious Magistrate for long enough, now it was time to put an end to the entire charade.

Applying pressure to a small button on his desk, a brief fizz and then a click to confirm that his voice was being received, Arnaud spoke into the vox-mic that opened a channel to his second-in-command.

"We have them. You know what to do."

No, they would not escape this time.


[hr]


[I]Blue eyes...blue eyes, speckled with gold.[/i]

"We should talk about how we can be useful to each other... Maybe ask mister Marko here to share his story."

"I believe Mister Marko is otherwise engaged," half-coughed the member of the third gender, rising as gracefully as she could to her feet, having been thrown pretty much to the floor as that oaf of an Astartes had spirited away that poor, gullible, young man, "but I do not doubt that [b]you[/b] can help me?" It was a question, although she already knew the answer, her voice coming quietly from beneath the now lopsided veil. She carefully adjusted it without taking her eyes off of 'Ersus', the fact that he had caused her mind to grow fuzzy with words alone now causing her to remain on her guard - this man was not what he seemed, but then again she had known that too.

"Tell me..." she half-commanded, regaining her graceful poise and stalking the few steps back to Salvius with an exaggerated sway of her hips until she stood an arms length away, her eyes locking onto his even as her lips kept moving, knowing that a game of two manipulators had only just begun, "...in what way can you help me,  Mister - I'm sorry, I never did catch your name, did I?"


[hr]


Another enemy, and this one was seemingly not as keen on 'fair play' as the Ogryn was...

Urg had dispatched his fair share of Spikey Boyz in the past, although they all looked the same to him - any chance of telling that this frothing madman was a World Eater being pretty much non-existant - but even he could see that this one was not right in the head. Having seen his fair share of Weirdboyz, it seemed that Vinicius was also in the throes of some maddening spasm, the look in his eyes immediately telling the Greenskin that if he wished to survive then he would have to fight for it.

"Oi, ugly!" Came a shout from the same doorway through which he had entered, a group of squishy humans lifting an axe (or more correctly a choppa) the size of the largest of them, tossing it carelessly onto the sands of the fighting pit a few feet away from its actual owner, the thick door of metal then slamming shut once more.

Loud snorts of air came from the Orkoid warrior, his tusks gnashing together as he looked from the insane Spikey Boy to his beloved weapon, instinct winning out over caution as Urg threw himself in the direction of the weapon; landing heavily, he rolled into a ball as the reinforced wood of the choppas shaft slapped into the thickened skin of his palm, the Ork roaring as he came back to his feet an equal distance from both Ogryn and Berzerker.

It was an Eldar Stand-Off, 'cept they didn't have no Eldar.


[@Keepvogel][@BCTheEntity][@Lord Coake][@The Whacko][@agentmanatee][@Hank]