The Beautiful Thing That Awaits Us All IC

[Dalinale]

It was a unremarkable deployment for all members of the Inquisitorial retinue, sans that each had a different method of transportation; perhaps a show on behalf of their patron, employer, and lord to make a impression upon them all that they were not in a fevered and isolated backwater.

The structure that Cyprain's Gate was named after was a grand bivalve-shaped rockcrete complex surrounded by a entanglement of multi-level rockcrete paths for carriages and other vehicles. The interior resembled that of a more cruder construction recently improved and cleaned, with little of the debris or signs of wear that was usually associated with such venerable buildings as a off-world port. The lighting was bright, the terminals that lined the walls in some locations appeared to all be in good condition, and works of art and sculpture lined the halls, each breathtaking displays of Ecclesiarchical grandeur and Imperial might.

All this, however, might have honed in the minds of the acolytes that the briefing they were given was quite nearly non-existent and merely gave them each information about their respective goals; that they were to meet in the central chamber, which was a few minutes away by internal shuttle from their respective ports of arrival, and to meet inside the 'Blue Room', which was a area of restricted access reserved for arriving Imperial representatives, in order to meet their informant of the day for further instructions. Vague orders from a distaint Inquisitor, coupled by a all-expense trip to a pleasure planet to do what was was described as a 'routine assessment', might have made some question the legitimacy of the report, but it was confirmed to be

The shuttle tunnel itself was a work of art, being surrounded by a great mural; oceanic in theme, it resembled a majestic coral reef, a fiery rainbow of colors accompanied by quite certainty more than a hundred obscure and strange creatures, perhaps imagined by long-dead scribes or perhaps native to the very ocean of the planet itself. The shuttle itself went by too swiftly for any individual creature or form to be analyzed fully by the human mind, but for every clearly defined creature there was perhaps a few more that were just barely hinted at.

Regardless of another complexity that could never be fully appreciated by mere mortal man, the shuttle was brief in itself and it emptied out into the grand chamber, as promised; a great circular plaza actually below the landing strips themselves, it was as grand and imposing as could be expected, with many small shops lining the interior walls like fungi around a log and a soft light being suitable enough to see one's way fine enough. Truthfully, the distinct lack of humanity's ability to make do with the space allotted made it somewhat unnerving; for a chamber that would have been suitable for ten thousand to stand within and not feel crowded, there were perhaps half a thousand within it even counting the guards and it had the ambiance of a half-forgotten cathedral, from the smoke that lingered near it's ceiling and the echos of idle talk dying unremarkable deaths; this was also helped by the presence of the small, dusty servitor-staffed choir within the chamber, off near the leftmost side of the room, who were producing from each of their meshed speaker-like mouths the sound of a monastic chorus on a permanent loop.

Most of the stalls that catered to travelers from beyond the stars, and subsequently most of the travelers themselves, were clustered around what appeared to be the main exit. However, perhaps more importantly, local security in light armor and heavy-visored helmets were also primarily clustered around the shuttles and the far end of the chamber, leaving a practical empty vastness in between the two areas, which was only being partially bridged by the slow trickle of travelers leaving the shuttle towards a greater future.

It would've been easy to spot the other members of the cell; they were quite near the only ones who didn't look like either peasants in ship uniforms or off-world nobles.

[Kaptin Keen]

Oberon had grown up on a desert world, and his knowledge of the sea was miniscule to actually non-existant. The shuttle ride to him was decorated in abstracts, weird blobs of meaningless color that he found slightly nauseating and alien - being used to orange dust and pale, scorched skies.

Looking at the unimaginable vastness of the arrivals hall, he uttered a surly and displeased well damn! and gazed around, easily locating the rest of the posse. He tipped his hat at his compatriots, and having no other clue where to go or what to do, asked simply: any of you fine folk know the way to this .. 'blue room'?

Spoiler: OOC

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Do we know each other?

I based my post in the OOC on the idea that this was Oberon's first real mission as an acolyte - but that he had assisted the inquisitor in the past once.

[dojango]

Qiao emerged from the shuttle into the spaceport, squinting at the bright light. The Inquisitor had provided him transport, where he had ended up being crammed in a busted shipping container with 45 other travellers for six weeks. He twitched a bit, growing anxious as he tried to look around for his contacts without looking at his reflection in the shiny chrome and plasteel walls of the spaceport. He pulled out his well-worn zither from its case, and calmed himself by slowly tuning the instrument. Thoughts of simply disappearing into the crowds and trying to make a living busking on some distant hive were banished. He approached one of the out-of-place travelers and they stood awkwardly around for a few moments as they all sized each other up. "I suppose if you have to ask where it is, you're not welcome. But such things cannot bar us unless we let them."

[Kaptin Keen]

That does often seem to be the case, don't it? Well we'll just have to see about that, he taps the inquisitorial rosette meaningfully.

[Arayl]

"I suppose you're right about that, maybe we'll be lucky enough that the Inquisitor would send someone to get us in" Titus says glancing at the others who the Inquisitor had gathered for this assignment. "Though this little thing we've got might get us that help without needing any outside help"

[rax]

"This is more like it," Mako declares, looking across the underground plaza. "Proper roofing, at least. Lots o' wasted space, though. No cover at all if a body needed to hotfoot it to the other side," he grumbles.

"I'm Mako, tech support" he says, introducing himself to the others. "I take it you're Oberon, the lawman, an' you'd be Qiao? The brain burner?" he asks. "Guess that makes you the sell-steel. Titus, right?"

[dojango]

Qiao sighs at the mischaracterization of his abilities. They'd warned him not to make a big deal about it, and so he merely bowed and said, "Qiao, Imperial Scholar at your service." He glances at the flaunted Rosette. "Perhaps some subtlety is called for? No sense in flashing the big gun until we're sure we need it."

[Kaptin Keen]

Subtlety is a fine thing, but I'm about as inconspicuous as a knife to the eyeball, I'm afraid. But that's not necessarily a bad thing. Blunt force trauma can be surprisingly effective.

[rax]

"A scholar, is it now? So you're a reader?" Mako queries.

"Well, I dunno that subtlety is what we need right now. This 'Blue Room' is supposed to be for Imperial representatives, an' we're that, to be sure. I say Oberon here marches up to the security boys, flashes his badge an' tells 'em that he's expected an' we're his entourage."

[dojango]

"A scholar of... the esoteric mysteries. Fully sanctioned by the Emperor, of course... but perhaps not something we should discuss in public? Let us attend to the Blue Room, and if they ask for our credentials, that symbol should suffice."

[Kaptin Keen]

'Esoteric mysteries' mumbles Oberon, clearly not impressed. Right, blue room. Let's see what we can do.

He looks around the giant hall, locates the nearest guard-looking person, and stomps over: Excuse me? We've been flown in from off-world to meet with ranking Imperial officials in the .. Blue Room? The meeting starts in two minutes, and frankly, we're at a loss as to where this Blue Room is. I would be much obliged if you could escort us there - provided your duties guarding this enormous empty hall permits.

Oberon will initially try to avoid waving the rosette around. So long as mere ordinary pressure works, there's no reason to pump up the Inquisitorial pressure.

[Dalinale]

The guard nearest to Oberon resembled any other in the room; clad in the standard equipment of civilized security, a bluish-white flak vest coupled with a baton and laspistol. The guard wore also gloves and boots of white leather and his helmet fully enclosed his head; the only real oddities in terms of apparel, but it seemed part of the local standard uniform.

After a few moments of apparent assessment, the guard gave Oberon a stiff salute and a quick bow, and silently turned towards the exit of the room at a swift pace, in almost total silence. Nearby off-worlders, mostly would-be dock workers by the looks of them, snickered, although it wasn't clear if it was Oberon or the security guard's actions that were the source of amusement.

[rax]

Mako shrugs, shoulders his backpack and ambles after the guard. Small talk is overrated anyway.

[dojango]

Qiao did his best to simply fade into the background. Not literally... or figuratively using his strange powers... but he'd prefer not to be noticed by the work gangs or their flunkies. He simply followed the guard as they headed over to the Blue Room.

[Kaptin Keen]

This place doesn't hire guards based on social skills, eh, Oberon mutters to the others, but then, are they ever?

Like the rest, he follows the guard to their meeting.

[Dalinale]

The open hall leading out of the great chamber was covered in a singular ceramic mosaic which gave the impression that one was stepping into a swirling whirlpool of yellows and blues and reds, the tiles seemingly consisting of the semi-smooth shells of some native species of shellfish, or perhaps clever replicas. There were places that suggested suns, or crashing waves, or perhaps a stray star or piscine beast; however one's mind wished to interpret what one saw, there was a clear intent to convey impressions of warm sunlight and clear waters in a way that was perhaps meant to be universe across planetary lines with perhaps a small amount of intimidation involved. Regardless, the sound of the guards metal-heeled boots clacking down on the hard-tiled floor made the idea that stealth was possible here ludicrous, and a few more moments made it clear that the group was perhaps the only other in the area, with the exception of a single lone, stray servitor which seemed to be tasked with polishing scuffed sections of the floor.

There were several forks in the hall, each marked out with lettering and signs in the local script, but the path they took eventually emptied out into a room as grand in size as the one they had just recently entered, although one that was less hospitable in appearance. Resembling a great big bowl, it had some decor, with statuary of Imperial saints being prominent alongside lesser figures and other depictions of Imperial allegiance, but the lights were low and the air was still, with clear paths in the cavernous room being made out by ghostly blue glowing tiles set in the floor itself. In contrast, the ceiling, made of yellow glass blocks, was breached by a grand spiral staircase that was bathed in golden light that came from down above in a almost otherworldly manner. Distant sounds of merrymaking and cheerful music was audible. The guard continued forward silently, moving at a brisk stride towards the staircase.

[Kaptin Keen]

Who would have thought that blistering heat and abrasive sand could be things to long for, mutters Oberon, clearly not impressed. Hey, guard, he calls, fingers fidgeting at the grip of his shotgun, are you some sort of servitor - just nod, thanks. Or, if you can speak, by all means do.

[rax]

"Well, it's a bluish room, at least," Mako quips as the journey continues.

[dojango]

"Probably meant to symbolize something. Beats me what, though."

Spoiler

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(1d100)[55] v. 35 to see if there's any hidden meaning to the decor.

[Dalinale]

Who would have thought that blistering heat and abrasive sand could be things to long for, mutters Oberon, clearly not impressed. Hey, guard, he calls, fingers fidgeting at the grip of his shotgun, are you some sort of servitor - just nod, thanks. Or, if you can speak, by all means do.

The guard stopped moving quite abruptly when they were near the grand staircase, and quickly turned around and gave a brisk shake of their head while beckoning the group to continue forward, standing rather still.

"Forgive me for my rudeness, servants of the Holy Inquisition," the guard said, sounding quite polite, albeit in a conversational way that did not match their servile stance, "Do you have any questions or requests?"

"Well, it's a bluish room, at least," Mako quips as the journey continues.

"Probably meant to symbolize something. Beats me what, though."

Spoiler

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[roll0] v. 35 to see if there's any hidden meaning to the decor.

Truthfully, the greatest distinguishing marks the scenery had was that they lacked much in the way of local flourish; even the grandest scene, depicting a group of small golden-haired children around simple depiction of Sanguinius in gold and red bronze, looked like it had been scooped up from some particularly large shrine and placed in the middle of the room. It called to mind old jokes about cheap Ecclesiarchy-made saintly statuary being kept in warehouses, frankly.

[Kaptin Keen]

Well, so much for subtlety, mumbles Oberon under his breath, before actually answering the guard: Are we going down there, and will they be expecting us? If so, I have only one question: What manner of liquor does this place offer?