Centuries, this man says, and Felassan — who would not be able to relate to being large, genetically modified, or ever ten years old — cocks his head to look at him with open scrutiny. Believable? Yes, sure. Stranger things have happened in the last few weeks than a nine foot tall, centuries-old shemlen, but if he's neither short-lived nor little, shemlen may no longer be the right word. He'll need a new one.

Or a name. Name would work.

"One's homeland is bloodied by the blood of the fallen," he says, "as far as I have seen. Do you have a name of your own, Astartes the Emperor's Angel of Death?"