[center] [i][b] 2290, New Vegas, Ultra-Luxe Resort & Casino--[url=http://wh40kart.im/_images/320c20fcb1403ebb5e2cb59161b91286.jpg]Warleader Dosh-Novan[/url][/b][/i] [/center]

[i]"Soft sons-of-bitches!"[/i]

Dosh-Novan crossed his massive arms, as his eyes slowly wandered from one Representative of the Keys, to the Next. And while some of them seemed to have understood the message of the Blind prophet, some still dabbled in their disbelieve, clinging to caps and luxuries. Yet the trade with them was important, and in the wars to come, a warrior had to endure peace with those he could not slaughter on the spot, for even a swarm of rats could overwhelm a deathclaw! He was a man of war, a son of battle, reforged from the Brother of steel he once was, yet most of all, he was loyal to the Prophet, and would follow his commands. 

"How could we not have a safe arrival, after all, we travel under the watchful eye of Ug-Qualtoth himself.."  

The Pure one responded with her calm, soft voice, as her eyes focused for a moment on Bartholomew Hemingway. Two orbs of amber, glaring like an abyss at him, endless and frightening. Even the Warleader found himself hard pressed to met her glare for longer then a few seconds. Too much it reminded him of the bloody white of the blind Prophet himself. A sight, that could even break the most strongest of wills. The warleader would turn his eyes away from the discussion in front of him, as another delegation arrived, and he recognized something that highly amused him.

Dosh-Novan hands twitched as he stared unmovingly at the new arrivals. Crossing his broad arms, he couldnt help but form the smile of a hungry wolf, spotting a weaked Brahmin. Cromwell, head of a Church of beggars and rabble of scum, together with the closest thing they had to a real warrior, Grand Zealot Richter. To push the Loyalists of Dunwich away from Megaton and the Capital Wasteland, with nothing more then the disorganized scum that was the Church of Atom was indeed a task that needed a capable man, and as such, Dosh-Novan couldnt help but have some form of grim Respect for the Grand Zealot. He would be a worthy kill, and his head would bring him a lot prestige among the Warleaders, maybe even from the Warmaster himself! 

It were the ones that arrived next, that the Warleader had expected the most of the see. His smile died for a second, as a grim look replaced it. Narrowing his eyes, he felt a twitching in his hand. His brothers from the Mid-West Chapter had arrived! Seeing the attempt of hiding the reaction on their face, Dosh-Novan raised his hand, before he formed a mocking Salute on his chest. It was the Salute a Knight would give an Elder of the Brotherhood, by placing his fist straight above his heart, yet the Warleader made sure that his hand moved onto the other side, his hand twitching like a beating heart! If they would have heard the stories of the Survivors of Cleveland, they would know the meaning of this Insult. 

Still staring at the Representatives of the Mid-West Chapter, Dosh-Novan couldnt help but chuckle over the little speech of the NCR-President, greeting the Enclave with an spite, that even left the Pure One raise her eyes for a moment, before hiding her mouth for a short giggle. In his second life, as the Knight Dogmar Novella, he had fought and bled against the Enclave in DC, yet now their struggle against them seemed so insignificant, so meaningless compared to what Ug-Qualtoth offered. They could hid and rot, wherever they wanted, they wouldnt stop the flock of the Blind Prophet! 

"Alexander Suttbray, your fervor and piety has already reached the ear of my beloved father, the Prophet himself! It fills his heart with great joy to have Friends like you, Mr. Suttbray....and the Most Serene Key Republic!" 

Marie eyes had closed for a second, as a fly crossed her field of view for a second. Uncaring, she waved it away with her finger, before the robotic voice cut off Bartholomew. Once more the Fly flew past her face, before sitting down on her hand. An annoyed sigh left her lips. The Warleader could feel that something was off, and as he looked down, he could see how her little finger began to twitch. 

More and more delegations arrived, which were all shortly watched by the Warleader. Then he noticed someone who met his glare, and even returned it. From the look of it, he was a Mercenary, the most despicable form of Warrior, in his eyes, yet Ug-Qualtoth valued all form of slaughter. Slowly, the Warleaders eyes twiched, as he felt the anger in his chest grew. It had been a long time, since anyone had dared to return his glare in such a away, and even if this was a diplomatic meeting, he would not take such an Insult lightly.

It was Marie who put an end to this Charade, by tugging on his coat. Looking down, he still could see the Fly, asking himself why the Pure One wasnt chasing it away. 

"Keep your anger for another day, Warleader! It breaks my concentration!" 

Once more, the young woman would turn towards Bartholomew, a smile on her lips, as the Fly suddenlty began to turn on its back, twiching and shivering. "I am quite sure that we could! My father allowed me to Negotiate for the Cult as a whole, and we both could profit from closer Trade agreements, couldnt we?" The Fly chest bulged out for a second, before it fell off the hand onto the plate. Waving one of the Waiters to her, she pointed at it, and soon would receive a new one.