Cryvus felt his skin crawl as he looked over the two corpses. The one he'd shot was smoldering now, its torso a charred mess and it's left arm utterly annihilated, but it's remaining limbs and head were relatively unharmed and still had some tattered clothing clinging to them. Someone had augmented the knee and elbow joints of the thing with technology, the exact workings an arcane mystery, and the hands had received similar treatment, though the clawed fingers looked decidedly more sinister than the rest. The head had been covered with a rounded metal hood, an oddity by Imperial standards of aesthetics, which was devoid of features save for those two red eyes, no longer glowing, which he felt fairly sure were bionic. What lay beneath the hood was a mystery, though given the state of Mr Arbest he wasn't sure he wanted to find out.
The other body served little use after inspecting the first. It seemed of a slightly larger build than the other, both presumably men before this foul heresy was visited upon them, but it had been mangled a great deal more than the other. It's torso, while not blackened and charred, sported a number of las-burns, a long slash from a blade and a large entry wound from Crisis' rifle.
(Everyone: Cryvus' observations are available to all, should they take a minute to examine the things themselves, as Xerxes just has.)
(Crisis and Xerxes:
)
The acolytes found themselves increasingly weary as the adrenal rush dissipated, the long day, fear and, for some, injuries beginning to take their toll.
(If the group doesn't rest within the next 15-30 minutes or so they will become fatigued, which confers a -10 to all rolls.)