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Passionario:
The psyker examines the pointy-eared woman for a few seconds, then lets out an unpleasant throaty chuckle:

"Heh, heh... looks like our circus of beasts and freaks keeps getting better and better. Time to go and meet the ringmaster, I guess."

Still chuckling, she follows the rest of the group out of the door.

Gargulec:
The Eldar spoke no more. Instead she lead you into a maze of corridors, spanning below the palace hall you occupied for the last few hours. Soon you realized that, if not for her guidance, you would surely have became lost in the complex. And only one Emperor knows what you could have stumbled upon then. Traps? Sophia secrets? One thing is sure, you would not live to tell the tale to others.
However the Eldar servant (or slave) confidently guided you through the maze, to an empty small chamber.

Save for the small steel door, it was empty. Or so you thought, until you heard a cold rough voice behind you:
"You did well, Naya. You're free now."
The Eldar quickly turned and walked out the chamber.

As you looked towards the voice source, you saw a tall and scrawny men, with long grey hair and eyes of the same colour. He watched you with a mixture of pity and disdain.
"So you're the new meat that Sophia spoke about? Ah, don't answer, I know it already. She is in inside, and she does not like to wait..."
He pointed towards the door and grinned nastily.

Pistis Sophia's office was at the exact opposite of the hall - you can hardly recall visiting a place more ascetic in look and design. No furniture could be seen except for the low table, and the only source of light was a weak flickering lamp pack hanging from the celling.
You wouldn't expect an Inquisitor to work in such place. Nor would you expect an Inquisitor to look like that.
You imagined Pistis Sophia in a variety of ways. But none of you would ever have dreamt of her as slim short girl (no more than nineteen or twenty years old) with long golden hair covering her face. She looked more like a noble princess or, even if you would not dare to think of her as such, a courtesan from the spires of hive-city.

She did not greet you.
"Let's make things clear - you are not Acolytes yet, only mere initiates, maybe with some potential."
It was sufficient to hear her voice to make all your doubts about her profession fade away, for it was as cold as Fenrisian winter and utterly emotionless. Frightening.
"Maybe, if you prove your value, through faith and ruthless efficiency, I'll accept you as my servants. But I do not expect it. Anyway, I take it you know why you're here?"

Xander Morhaime:
Halsted stood at attention in the presence of the inquisitor, regardless of her appearance. Boot camp had taught him it never did any good to stare at a superior.

"To serve the Emperor, in whatever manner found most fitting by the agent of His Most Holy Inquisition," the guardsman answered, as if replying to a drill sergeant, then his shoulders sagged just a bit.
"I cannot speak for the others," he motioned with his head at the rest of the potential acolytes, "but I've not been briefed on the nature of the mission, beyond that."

He didn't sound too resentful. But then, living a life on a need-to-know basis was commonplace in the Imperial Guard.

Marcus Constantine:
How come a girl as young as me can be an inquisitor? That's... unbelievable? Neverless, I am here, I am here....
"To prove I am worth to serve the Emperor, whether it is fighting or enlighting the unbelievers!" - Marcus said quickly and proudly. Perhaps to hide the fact that he was still uneasy about the whole situation.

Passionario:
"Noble lady, even if the reason for our presence here was known to me once, I can't seem to recall it. My memory, alas, isn't what it used to be."

Pass briefly taps on her mindscrub-scarred head to illustrate the point - and to conceal the fealing of unease that flickers in her eyes in the inquisitor's presence.

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