[center][img]https://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/warhammer40k/images/9/94/Sanctioned_Psyker.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20110623055317[/img][/center] [center][h3]Izrah[/h3][/center] Izrah disembarked the rusting rouge trader ship, carrying a thick staff that he used as a walking stick. With each step he leaned heavily on the staff to support his weight, he was weak from trying to hide in his passenger quarters during the travel to the planet. He knew he would have infected the crew if he was allowed out among them for too long and had spent weeks confined to his quarters in a self made quarantine. While he cared little for the crew on board, he wanted to get to the planet unmolested by daemons in the warp. Though this meant he was half starved and desperately stir crazy, and his isolation had not helped his waning sanity. Izrah was wrapped up in a thick and heavy robe, and between that and his staff he looked to be a very very old man but was hardly 35 yet. as his feet hit the level plane of the landing pad he looked out and observed the Hive. It was a towering monstrosity standing miles above him and, judging from the view he was probably several thousand feet off the surface and still in the highly lawless area of the hive. Though he was not as impressed compared to others disembarking because he was from a Hive city in his brief childhood before he was taken away by the Black Ship and remembered seeing the whole of the hive from the shuttle taking him away. As he glanced around he noticed hive gangs watching passengers mill about and where ready to pounce if they noticed anything valuable. Izrah didnt have anything except for his old and dodgy las-pistol and his chaos warped brain, assuming those where valuable. As he watched the hive gangs he slowly realized that he was talking to himself, [color=lightgreen]"... the flies and fungus descend on the corpses, consuming them and giving them over to the father N-"[/color] he cut himself off before he said the name of his patron. He was speaking quietly so it was unlikely that anyone overheard him but he was surprised at his mumbling. Without waiting to be shaken down by hive gangs or Arbites he left, still mumbling to himself, he couldn't stop it but he could stifle it so he just seemed to be a mad man from a lower part of the hive. He was looking for a way to get into the deeper parts of the hive, The filth and pestilence in the lowest parts calling to him like a beacon, but the place was confusing to navigate and his weakness made the distances traveled difficult and slow. He had to eat, or steal the strength he needed from another. An ability he had not yet fully figured out, since his touch of the Nurgle plague he had not been able to heal others as he had before, what he could do now was leech the strength of others into himself, healing wounds and bolstering his strength. It was terribly inefficient, stealing the whole of someone's life and leaving a stinking and rapidly rotting corpse only to heal minor bruises and cuts. [color=lightgreen]"And his plague shall sweep across the Galaxy consuming all in its path, giving them the greatest gift of N-"[/color] he bit his tongue again, this had to stop. Before long he would sound like a deranged cultist, if he didn't already. While he was busy scolding himself he wandered into the territory of a Hive gang of little renown and only a danger to the tiny section of the city they occupied. The Gang was mostly young men and teens from the hab blocks on either side of the street trying to keep some of the more ruthless gangs, and mad men apparently, from their families. Izrah was yanked down into an alley, he yelped in surprise as a huge bruiser of a man shoved him into the darkness. [color=lightgreen]"AHHh! Leave me alone"[/color] he shouted, he had only been on the planet for maybe an hour and he was already being mugged, 'Damned hive worlds' he thought. The hulk of a man was joined by two smaller men, they looked like children in comparison but they where the right age to be drafted during the next tithe. The big one started at Izrah "Wot youz doin' in Death Skull terr'tory" he said. Izrah rolled his eyes, 'Wow, death skull. how original, and terrifying.' he thought to himself. He was in danger however, his little pistol wasn't reliable enough to bring down all three of them before they got their hands on him. Not to mention he was so weak he wasnt sure he could show off his talents. Izrah was becoming scared, searching for solutions to his problems and finding none. [color=lightgreen]"Go away!"[/color] he shouted again, something was wrong. His senses where being bombarded with input that didn't make sense. The scent of decay, the buzz of flies, his skin drying and dessicating, but there where none of these things happening. His control was slipping, he started to panic knowing a major loss in control could spell his demise.[color=lightgreen]"No, no, oh no"[/color] The three goons stepped back as they realized they had started trouble they where not prepared for. A blood vessel burst in Izrah's nose and a started a steady stream running down his mouth. The goons noticed the paint on the side of the buildings they where between discolor, plants that had grown up in the filth between the buildings whithered and blackened. The two smaller goons ran off, they had encountered a psyker and a crazy one at that so they ran for their lives. The big man had backed off but stood his ground thinking there was still a chance he could take the psyker, but he was especially dim witted. The big man stepped forward and tried to grab at Izrah, The attempt startled Izrah pumping adrenaline into him. The adrenaline actually helped reassert control, but he had slipped closer to the immaterium and was being fueled by chaos more than he was used to.[color=lightgreen]"Fool"[/color] he said more calmly [color=lightgreen]"Your life and body are forfiet"[/color] when he reached out and wrapped his frail hand around the big man's throat he also called on the power of Nurgle and tapped into his victim's life force. Izrah drew out the man's life force quickly, like a starving dog feeding. As he stole this strength he felt control reestablish itself and he could stand easier like he had grown in strength and eaten well. The man he was stealing from was dessicating before his eyes, the skin tightened and mummified while flies and beetles from near by where drawn to the power of Nurgle. [color=lightgreen]"A gift from the Father Nurgle"[/color] he whispered at the corpse even while he was assaulted by carrion insects, but it was more in thanks to his Dark God for giving him the power and opportunity to heal and strengthen himself. Once his dark deed was done he fled with new found strength trying to escape into the depths of the hive before Arbites or Inquisitorial agents started to track him down. He managed to decend into areas where power was a luxury of the few gang leaders who managed to jury rig something to steal from the upper areas, otherwise Izrah only had the light of fires and what little filtered in from upper levels to navigate by, he knew that he had to get a light source of some kind before he descended any deeper into the hive. However the residents of this level knew Izrah, or knew his kind. A wandering mad man talking to himself. He even ran across several other truly insane, but they rambled on about the Emperor or some local diety rather than the gifts of Nurgle.