*Dumps a Nihila in front of Radcliffe, who proceeds to pick herself and huff at the how disgracefully she was just left in front of the inquisitor.*
“Who the hell are you and why the hell did that floating grey ball just put you here?”
“Nihila, and if I had any insight on why they do what they do, I’d probably be making a greater fortune,” she replies.
Radcliffe narrowed his eyes. “Alright, Nihila,” he said. “Want to elaborate a bit more on yourself?”
“Expert painter, sculptor, cook, whittler, and a number of other crafts,” Nihila replies.
“I see. Well, is there anything I can help you with, or was this just that grey ball’s attempt at a blind date?”
“I don’t go on dates, sorry,” Nihila remarks. “Personally I think it was just some–”
She pauses as the grey ball appears again and hands Radcliffe a note that says Nihila is actually a slaaneshi.
Radcliffe frowned as he read the note. “Uh huh.” He handed it to her to let her read. “Care to explain?”
She figured the grey ball was probably going to reveal all her secrets if she lied, so she replied, “Besides selling high quality works of art, no I do not spread the words of Slaanesh, nor do I fight their wars. The extent of my service is in the pursuit of perfection in my various crafts.”
“That’s all well and good, but to be defined as a Slaaneshi one must generally worship Slaanesh. Do you do that?”
“Well there is no arguing that I am devoted to Slaanesh,” Nihila replies. “It is rare I actually take the time to do so, and such acts of devotion are typically rather small and inconsequential in nature. I prefer to stay out of the eyes of the other chaos gods and their followers. As well as out of the gaze of the wider imperium.”














