Before he recognizes Vormav, Cypress almost feared the worst - that Warlock Order agents under Armand's guidance had gotten there, before him. In reality, there weren't any Warlock Order agents on the Ship, besides the half-dead man who was being dragged to the deck of the Ship - just down the hallway...
But Cypress had become nothing, if not a fatalist, over the years. His thoughts were twisted by what he had experienced, and even the smallest encounter was now a battle of life and death - a walk across a razored tight rope suspended over the Abyss itself. That was how good killers are mannufactured in the vicissitudes of war.
The Angel of Caine, his sharp, Auspexic senses recognizes the man behind the cracked door as Vormav, offers his a cool, relaxed smile and steps back - revealing himself as Cypress Dreadslay. The scent of his burning cigarette fills the small hallway thickly. As the guns begin to fire outside, Cypress ignores the baleful racket. Hopefully, that's what's left of Armand...
"Sorry to disturb you Vormav. Moon is here, right? I just wanted to talk to you two about Armand Eastlock. Appearently, he paid Moon a visit the other day. I overheard her tell you about it and did some investigating of my own. The problem is being neutralized, as we speak..." But Cypress knew that it was very possible, and plausible, that the problem was just exposing another problem, and so on, and so forth.
"Anyways," Cypress sighs, running his fingers through his dark blond hair shakily, removing the free-falling tendrils from his features as he tilts his chin to observe Vormav's reaction a bit closer.
"Armand, as you may or may not know, was a very high-ranking member of the Warlock Order's leadership. We have chased him across the East... He is extremely dangerous. I don't think he's the type of trash you want coming around your family..."
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