Yvraine, High Priestess

That sounds a lot more powerful, to say the least but she's not exactly sure as to how she'd get such things. . . or if she can even wield them. The name of something like a ghost. . .anything sounds like it's gotta carry some hefty weight. N' she doesn't mean the physical kind.

Mmm. Where has her wife gone? She expected to see her in the bed before her

It is time for the rat to slumber. Who’s going to join her?

Thinking. . . She's considering tinkering with her new prosthetic, given it's well, essentially her new arm for what's most certainly to be the rest of her life. Though. . .that leaves the question: An axe, spear, or buzzsaw. . . Hmmmmmmmmm. . . . .

𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙖𝙩 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯.

𝘕𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

“It is a term of platonic endearment once used in my chapters homeworld, when still it was ours”

He made a motion to draw attention to his cybernetic arm “I suppose half the cost is payed then, dear Yvrain.” He crossed his arms now “I’ve doubts you’ve any need for any crowns I could give, had I any.”

“If you’d believe it when I was younger only sons of the raven could pull off better stealth missions than me” he walked into view helm locked to his hip,bolter at his side. “By all means carry on”

He’ll let her think that. He needed something interesting to watch.

𝘜𝘭𝘵𝘩𝘸𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘴, 𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘥, 𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘬. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘊𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘢'𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘭 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.

𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦. 𝘕𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘴 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘳𝘦-𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘜𝘭𝘵𝘩𝘸𝘦. 𝘚𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘯, 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘵?

𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵? 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘺? 𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭. 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺.