A few others entered the room before the Trader made a toast to the room and Grummore lifted a glass as well. He didn’t care for Macragge or the human primarchs but he was expecting a good meal and at least a palatable drink so it was a good enough reason to follow along. He couldn’t help but wonder about the contents of their quarry and if it was, indeed, of value to him. He looked at the red liquid slosh about in his own glass as thoughts swirled in his mind, but he pushed it back and as the chorus of “To the Primarchs!” echoed around the room, his voice cracked out [color=FF8C00]“And the honored fallen!”[/color] and he downed his drink before looking back at the Voidmaster. He began assembling his own first wave of the mighty feast as he responded.

[color=FF8C00]“Oh y’must! By th’Ancestors it’s a sight. None o’that hell fuel Warp shit. Oh right!”[/color]

He’d gotten caught up in the speech but his curiosity returned as he instinctively reached out for the plate that held Paolo’s overgrown strawberry and put his eye down to the table level and inspected the fruit with a jeweler’s scrutiny before a satisfied huff with an impressed face before sliding it back over. [color=FF8C00]“That’s quite the trick! I’d love t’see it in real time.”[/color]

The food had been quite acceptable as well, far nicer than trail rations and hastily brewed nutrition beverages. [color=FF8C00]“Y’know, this is’a damn good meal, almost feels like a prisoner’s last!”[/color] The kin burst with laughter at his own remark, bits of foot getting tangled in his, formerly neatly groomed, beard. G

rummore savored some form of bird that was finely roasted with a citrus flavor permeating it. He was just reaching for another leg when the entire vessel shook. Grummore turned to ask about it to the Voidsman and noted an empty chair as the man tore ass out of the room with all the reflexive urgency of a seasoned vet. Another shuddering sound snapped Grummore’s attention away from the bootheels of the Voidsman as the psyker slammed their chair into the ground with the force of their standing and watched him assemble an array of floating cutlery about him. The Kin admittedly found appreciation that his private curiosity had been answered so quickly but he was distraught for the bulk of his own armaments had been left behind in his quarters. Without much in the way of protection he would have to be conservative and so he left in tow of Paolo with a las beam-cutter in hand. He’d try to find more equipment along the way. It was easy to find where the confrontation was, he could hear the shooting and, more easily, the voice of Voidmaster Stukov bellowing at the din’s edge.