<span style="font-style: italic">This would just be the beginning...</span><br/><br/>Arrail had been stranded here for some weeks now, thanks to a malfunction in her own vehicle, spending her time skulking the streets, dancing for what little money people would spare, and occasionally even dancing in the higher stratas of the city. The barely-craftworld Eldar had been slowly making a name for herself, though, rather than attract the attention of every man, woman, and child by wearing her mask in public as well as each of her weapons, she had augmented her spear somewhat to be able to collapse for hiding, as well as crafting wooden decorative sheaths for the heads, painting them so that the deadly weapon would be mistaken for more of a ceremonial baton, rather than a lethal double ended singing spear. Her purple and pink checkered cloak and the coat underneath it hid her pistol which was holstered at her back, and her bodysuit D-field was a rarity which had not been seen among humans and the opponents of the Eldar for an age gone by. So long as Arrail did not wear her mask, she looked as normal as the fairest of human women, clad in innocence, but identifiable with ease by her long, pointed ears. Her bone boots and gloves were each painted to make them look more in tune with her ceremonial dance, still pinks and purples clashing together and blending into various patterns as the mute woman danced for all those who watched outside a bar in the lower areas today.<br/><br/>She had seen all manner of beings enter, Three, tall, hulking space marines, an ork followed not too long after by a second, a couple of Tau and even a small crew of Dark Eldar... her target.<br/><br/>The shadowseer had told her of the coming of a prospect who would land on this world, and, with a hollow eagerness she had followed the seers' commands in an attempt to intercept him, though, as she seemed to arrive early, Arrail had to improvise wile she was staying here. As the Dark Eldar entered, Arrail was in the midst of spinning and twirling outside on the street, transferring her weight from hand to hand to foot as she tumbled in place perfectly, twisting her body in an act which appeared to be half contortion, and half acrobatics... finishing with a low bow to her patrons, the fair skinned large eyed woman collected what little money was offered for her and headed into the bar for a meal. Walking in, the barman outside smiled at her, to him, she was a breath of fresh air, a diamond of beauty among the aliens, mutants and heretics, none of which were often pleasing to the eye of the human race. Arrail did not walk as such, but even with each stride, she seemed to glide with a strange whimsy around her, as Arrail met the bartenders smile with one of her own, her face lighting up like a candle, and her cheeks flushing pink on mental command as she stood slightly bashfully for a moment at the bar, pointing to a menu behind him written on a board.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"What? ya can't talk?"</span><br/><br/>Arrail nodded, agreeing with the man, shrugging apologetically, pointing back up to the food menu, waiting for something cheap and easy to be made, she placed what coinage on the ground that she had collected, barely knowing its value as the man behind the bar called back to an unknown person to fix up something a little nicer than the gruel which was given to everybody else. In fifteen or so minutes, Arrail had her food, and the man thanked her for the business she had been bringing in today while performing outside of his shop, people had been coming in for drinks while they watched her perform, and he commented that she was really very good... Taking a holo pad out, Arrail began to scrawl a quick 'no problem' across the board, turning it to face him with a silent laughing motion, before moving to further devour her food. Scrawling something else on the holopad with her fingers as she ate, runic symbols which humans would not be able to discern without knowing the Eldar language.<br/><br/>Finishing her meal, she would brush past the Orc which had destroyed the older man, resing a hand on his shoulder and patting him as she glided past, giving him a wink if he would turn to have a look at her. Grabbing a chair from one of the many tables and spinning it round, she sat herself directly before the Dark Eldar and his three men, without hesitation, without worry, and without a care in the world as her cheerful, but silent expression at this point, was beginning to seem a little odd, a tad out of place for a patron of this world. Even the barkeeper from observing her from this long, was beginning to feel a tad uneasy when he stared at her for too long, it did not take a genius or a psyker to know that there was something a little off about her, like a feeling, which pulled at the strings of the soul... Arrail, leaned back in her chair casually, crossing her legs one over the other and flicking the small projector in his direction, a knowing smirk across her confident face, as her eyes narrowed a little from wide eyed innocence, into a sly and almost sexual intrigue.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic"><span style="color: #FF00BF">"Greetings, Asduthara, I see you've grown physically, but mentally you seem to be the same as the last time I saw you."</span></span><br/><br/>The writing and the grammar proposed that what she had said was more in jest, than as a serious allegation of immaturity, but as Arrail folded her arms, and kept an eye on the rest of the crowd, she hoped, and preyed dearly that of each of those three chaos space marines, that one of them was not a disciple of the great deceiver, and then there was the Imperial guardsman, a pathetic excuse for a warrior... she had heard that the new ceramite armor which had become standard had revolutionized the Imperial Guard, increasing their life expectancy on the battlefield from 24.6 to 31.9 seconds, still a pathetic denominator in her eyes, a race that could never have defeated the Nekrotar in their prime... A joke, the laughing god no doubt had spun for the universe, and one which seems to always find ways to become more relevant.<br/><br/>Though, there was one other patron which may have been interested in the arrival of Arrail, as the woman was more than simply a blank, the follower of Tzench would have not felt her entrance at all, having zero presence in the warp, he would have had no foresight into her arrival, no psykic reference of her being and the complete inability to interact with her mentally or spiritually, which, to any psyker, would be an oddity save for those very few who knew the existence of the dreaded house callidous assassins. So, should he have witnessed her entry, she would prove odd indeed.