(Haxtes has Armour, his shield, both guns and sword under his fancy great coat, oh yes and a brace of grenades just in case someone has a big mouth) Haxtes will take Venus complete with killer drone. His 4 guards and Jeb or Maxi and leaves it up to them to argue over who gets to stay here and relax. Then it's off to spend some thrones :)

Jeb looks to Maxi from the couch he is presently slouched in. Then to Haxtes, then back to Maxi with a grin. "Tag, you're it."

Maxi seems puzzled by Jebs remark. "Appearance dictates our actions in this situation. My mark as the Master at Arms has been played and showed. It's common protocol that the R-T's presence is now with his most trusted aides and that are his personal escorts. I won't be offended to play the role of a M-A and stay guard." "As I understand my orders. 1 - Protect Messinus, as he is the only one who can send message to our masters. 2 - Protect Azhmuth, as he with Venus is the relay between us. 3 - All else including me and Azhmuth is not a priority and acceptable collateral." "If we must move out I suggest the codeword "WALKIE" and we will relocate at the Cygnan Martyr. We're familiar at the ship and it could buy us time."

Maxi stays behind to guard while Jeb takes the role as bonded bodyguard and follows Maxtes to the auction. There is a lot of excitement in the air. The first batch includes number of valuable Thorian-period artifacts. One wonders if these things were at some point sold off by unfaithful clergy - or stolen from burning temples. Bidding is relatively brisk. Cardinal Yvenna, religious leader of the Markayn Marches is one bidder, another is the Archbishop-Envoy of Cardinal Ignato of Scintilla (he's the head of the Sector Synod). A few others bid on single items, but these two generally outbid all the others. Haxtes' attention is drawn to a golden seal the size of a human palm. It is heavily engraved by religious symbols of that forgotten time - and is partially covered by a reddish substance that to Haxtes looks like blood (since the seal is thousands of years old this is a bit odd). Call it a hunch. Call it psychics. But there is something about the seal. Bland: "Official seal from the reign of Gorge Vandire. Bidding starts at 1 million."

Haxtes bids hard on the seal. "1 Million..." (Haxtes will bid up to 10 mill )

Jeb hid his urge to giggle like a madman at Haxtes carefree bid. One million? The ex-merc couldn't even begin to consider what he would do with such an amount, and here Haxtes, in the guise of a Rogue Trader, was tossing it at something that most of all resembled a platter. And an ugly one at that. Shifting slightly in place, he took a casual glance around. If Haxtes bid on an item of no immediate value to him, chances where something was awry - and if that was the case, he wanted to get a good look at the people Haxtes would be bidding against.

The two churchmen are none too happy to have a new bidder...but there are many interesting items to be had...so eventually they back down. Provost Bland: "Sold to Rogue Trade Guilliman for 8 million Thrones. Congratulations. May the God-Emperor watch over you and your endeavors."

The emperor is surly with the two clergy, they just got saved from a murder/robbery in their sleep after the auction :) The emperor protects is now proven :) Haxtes pays and takes possession of the item, holding it in his hand and letting his psi touch it ever so slightly.

Within the House. Ritual is important. It is by the careful building of traditions and ceremonies that mankind has been raised above the beasts. It is by the practice of these prayers and rites that we reknew our bond and covenant with the Throne of the God-Emperor. He who watches over us Eternally has laid down these rules and passages that we might learn to, even if it is just for a moment of our lives, glimpse a shard of his greater glory. Just for a moment. Ritual is important. By the repeating of the litany and the gospel of the holy texts then Parsifal cleanses his mind. By the repeating of the washing of self and the polishing of the holy armaments then Parsifal cleanses his body. By the repeating of his training and the fighting of the darkness without then Parsifal cleanses his soul. Repeating, repeating, repeating. The Explicator is correct, Parsifal reasons, that the time to rest his body has passed, that now is instead the time to dress, to exercise, to repeat the structures and forms of his physical and mental training. It is only through those rituals that he shall return to the service of the Emperor, saviour of all humankind. And so this morning begins with his physical routine, not as hard as it once was but still approaching levels he would not have achieved only two years ago. It is the cell variant of that which his order taught, the stretches, movements and lifts all designed to be used in a limited space, such as the room he now occupies. At the end of it he hurts, but that is to be expected. He needs the pain to prove that he has pushed his limit a little further. After fifteen minutes rest he begins again. He hurts more now, but that is to be expected. With prayers on his lips he begins dressing, simple white layered and hooded robes and then his well polished plate over them, shining even in the room's light. With reverence he belts over it all and then places a pistol into the hip holster. With sacred words recited over and over he takes his scabbarded sword from its resting place and clips it to his sword belt. Once all that is done and with a final bowing of the head he places a highly decorated stole, behind his neck and over his shoulders, so it spills imperial patterns down over his chest. He gazes upwards as at last he lifts an imperial aquila necklace over his head, so it rests upon his breastplate. When all this is done he turns for the door of his room and, trying to hide the fact he is still not as fit as he could be, steps out into the communal areas.

Haxtes' gets a sense of great antiquity and gravitas. This seal has played an important part once upon a time, there is no doubt about that. As you concentrate briefly you get a brief mental image of a man enraged, a man dressed in impossibly costly finery, bludgeoning someone to death with the seal. Jeb notices an adept gently pulling the attention of Inquisitor Herrod towards Haxtes. Very gently, not many will have noticed.

Parsifal finds Azhmut, Messinus and Maxi in the communal area. They are not doing much. Azhmut is pacing around, triangulating something with a hand-held auspex, Messinus is meditating and Maxi is going over various gear, checking and blessing it.

"Mister Guilleman" Jeb remarks out of the corner of his mouth, his voice low and his gaze still sweeping the crowd without settling on the Inquisitor. "Whatever you are doing, it is drawing the attention of Inquisitorial adepts..." he seemed about to say more but decides against it, and instead interjected himself in what he hoped was a casual way between the Inquisitor and Haxtes, using his bulk to cover up the Explicators actions to prying eyes.

Haxtes covers hes mouth too cough and whispers: "Noted " Haxtes places the seal in hes pocket

As he looks at the others Parsifal nods a greeting to each before gathering a platter of simple food and a glass of water and sitting down to pray and then eat. As he chews each mouthful carefully he watches Maxi at work, as he checks and blesses each item in turn, ocassionally nodding as Maxi moves to the next.

The auction continues. Next is a large number of odd bits and ends. Several times Haxtes has one of his psychometric (that's what Xerza called them) flashes. Brief glimpses of events time to an item and/or a sense of its purpose and nature. You hide it as best you can, without looking like your hiding in Jeb's shadow. --- You cannot bid on everything, but a few items are particularly interesting: Provost Bland: "Tarnished silver key of great antiquity - thought to predate the Great Diaspora. Partial inscription in an archaic language visible. Bidding starts at 10.000 Thrones. Any bids?" You've the impression that the key may unlock something important in the future. --- Provost Bland: "Adeptus Astartes pauldron. Badly damaged. Orinial color pattern is crimson. Chapter symbol may be a black fanged skull. Does not match any known Chapter. Bidding starts at 50.000 Thrones. Any bids?" You get the impression that...you don't really get any impression at all. You think its a fake or its anti-psychic somehow.

Azhmut has stopped is endless scans and inspecting a portrait that Haxtes purchased the day before. It's been mounted on the wall to provide some decoration. "I had not noticed before, but doesn't this portrait look very much like Parsifal? Scanning...match confirmed to within one thousandth of one percent deviance. A match like that exceeds that of a decent quality 2D pict."

Haxtes will bid for for the key

Yours for 50k. It's not an item that attracts a lot of attention.

Haxtes bids for the skull.

The bidding suddenly escalates as a number of people join in. It does not take long for this seemingly unimportant piece of armour-plate to exceed a bid of 1 million. Do they know something you don't - or has mass hysteria sneaked into the bidding? Does Haxtes want to remain in the game?

No, let them bid. Haxtes sends to Maxi, one word: "Choir."

Messinus suddenly bolts up from his chair, looking bewildered. And Maxi hears a word in his mind: "Choir."

When receiving the codeword from his R-T.' Maxi frowns from the rituals and gives orders. "1 - Protect Messinus. 2 - All else acceptable collateral." Hastily Maxi leaves quarters and moves towards the auctions area. Armed with Sweetness and a frag-grenade he passes the guards and positions himself close at his R-T visible showing his Arbiters assault gun awaiting further instructions.

Parsifal looks at Maxi leaving and also looks a little bewildered. Combined with Messinus' reactions and the comments just made by Azhmut it is a long moment before the puzzlement leaves his face but his hand is firmly on the pommel of his sword. When it does he turns to Messinus and says "What disturbed you, so?"

"STAY AND WATCH MESSINUS!!! I'm called. YOU ALL HAVE YOUR ORDERS!!!!" MAXI looks at Parsifal, Azhmut and all the guards. "Remember: "WALKIE" Maxi says before he leaves hastily. When arriving at the auction, and after a short and a very short brief from his R-T he moves towards the opponents bidder. (The Inquisitor) (Haxtes points who offends) If needed Maxi is very helpful explaining imperial LAW and conduct. (IF NEEDED) by force. At the pointed offender. By lecturing law. Maxi explains CHARTERS OF TERRA and its complainants of how THIS planets IMPERIAL SANCTIONED law interferes with his diminutive badge, whatever.

For a moment Parsifal looks at the portrait and repeats the words that have come so quickly to his lips "Blood of his blood, Blood of his blood, Blood of his blood..."

The Inquisitor, which to my knowledge is not counted as a bidder, mostly because he hasn't bid on anything, actually deigns to answer the thug that confronts him. Herrod: "I question not the right of the esteemed Rogue Trader to participate in this auction. In fact, given the status of this island, he may effectively buy whatever items he wishes - even things that will see even a Rogue Trader arrested and executed should he take them with him to Imperium territory." He steps a bit closer and speaks in a cold and low tone: "I do however reserve the right to monitor the crowd for heresy and witchcraft...or would your master question my god-given right to do so, and the ultimate authority that rest within the barrel of my gun?"

Messinus: "It was just the master, calling for his master-at-arms. I believe there was some sort of trouble in the Auditorium. I shall see if the God-Emperor can cast some light on the matter." He sits down and retrieves a well-used Tarot deck, the starts laying out the cards.

Meanwhile the auction continues. More odds and ends, this time of xenos origin, including a number of stuffed xenos you've never seen before (not that you're all the familiar with xenos). --- Haxtes attention is drawn to a mask made of xenos skin - withered grey-green, featureless save for a wide lamprey mouth (i.e. circular with lots of teeth), pulled over a frame to make it wearable for a human. Why anyone would go to a masquerade with such a mask...twisted are the minds of men! Bland: "Xenoflesh mask. Species unknown. Suitable for a xenos-themed masquerade. Bidding starts at fifteen thousand. Any bids?" Haxtes feels cold inside when he looks at the mask. He sees himself donning the mask, feels what it is like to be a member of that species, can see his brothers feasting on human flesh. Psychometry flashes again. You need to learn how to control this 'gift'.

Having to drag his eyes from the portrait Parsifal turns to watch instead Messinus' reading, some trepidation in the pit of his stomach as to what lies in store next. In tension, he holds his breath as each card is turned in order.

Maxi looks the inquisitor at his face, lower his glare down to his insignia and back up again. "My master do not challenge your god-given right, I believe the Ecclesiarchy are the right place for discussing such dogma." Maxi takes a step back away from the Inquisitor, awaiting further instructions. (Maxi will accept being dismissed by the Inquisitor. He shows no need to escalate the situation further. He will then walk back to his R-T to be dismissed at his leisure.)

Herrod: "You seem oddly familiar armsman. Have we met before? What is your name?" You're quite sure you haven't (met before).

"Maximilian Dante, Master at Arms on the free trader vessel Maiden of Golgenna, sir. And no sir, we have not formerly met. I would have remembered any meetings with the Holy ordos."

Turning to one of his adepts: "We have his genes on record, yes?" The adept nods. Herrod to Maxi: "You may leave."

IF the mask is cheap Haxtes will bid up too 25000

Seems no one is interested in the mask, save Haxtes. You get it for the starting price. 15.000. Cheap or a complete wast of Thrones?

The mask is handed to you, but you quickly turn it over to Jeb - the sense of being another, being a XENOS is only heightened by proximity and ownership. Jeb doesn't seem to mind though, but then again he isn't what you'd call psychically sensitive (or any other form of sensitive ;)

Nice birthday present for the mistress, she likes too play dress up :)

"If the pleases the R-T, I will leave this hall and go and stay at our quarters."

"Yes Thank you Maximilian you did a good job with the Inquisitor"

As he watches the cards carefully placed Parsifal asks Azhmut a question without looking up, "do we know who that is meant to be a portrait of and do we have a date on it at all?"

Jebediah fiddles around with the mask given to him by Haxtes, uneasy by its worth more so than by the grim visage it presented. The gruff ex-mercenary had been somewhat above the pay-grade of a common trooper and their fifty thrones a month, but even so this was just silly. Jeb had no doubt that he could equip and outfit a small army for the prize of this xenos-mask. And it was butt-ugly too. If the goal for Haxtes had been to establish himself as an eccentric spendthrift, he certainly had accomplished that goal with exceptional flair. Jeb gave a wry snort - that had probably been exactly the reason, he realized. With nowhere else to put it, the burly man decided to simply hook it onto his belt - he needed his hands free, and he doubted waving the mask about in a threatening and aggressive way would do much good in the case of an actual fight.

Azhmut: "The auction catalog lists this item as a portrait commissioned by Erasmus Haarlock in 701.M41. That is two years prior to his disappearance. Furthermore that the portrait is of Erasmus, but that it was never completed - due to said disappearance. This does not seem to match what we are seeing right now."

Still watching the cards Parsifal keeps his voice level, almost idle in tone, "Azhmut is there a gene record for Erasmus Haarlock that you might have access to?"

Azhmut: "I do not think we have any gene records of anything. The Tricorn or the local Inqusition office might."

Messinus to the others: "This is most unsettling. I keep getting wildly divergent readings each time I do a spread - but each time I get the Man reversed AND the Hulk. I have never seen the future so in imbalance!"

At the auction: "Statue of great hunting cat with three eyes and bat-like wings. Comes with gem-encrusted necklace. Starting price 500.000. Any bids?" There are several bids, soon the price approaches 2 million. Your friend the admiral is one bidder, the Tobias Belasco look-alike another.

"Who is it you are casting for Messinus? Or is it for all of us? And excuse my ignorance please of what it is you do but does not that mean terrible change and destruction from what little I understand?"

Messinus: "All of us. I have cast it for all of use and the result is the same. We are doomed - but the manner of our demise is unclear. We should not have come here, it is a trap."

Parsifal does not look up from the cards on the table still, but raises his hands in a series of gestures to the guards, trying to alert them to a possible greater risk than they had previously assumed. His own hand drifts again to the holt of the sword while he asks Messinus "Is the Explicator aware of the heightened danger? If not can you make him so without anyone knowing?"

Messinus: "I am his astropath. I can send to him. But what is there to say?" Azhmut: "I do not think that the Rogue Trader is overly interested in speculation. He will rightly dismiss such a warning - and chastise us afterward. We must instead seek to gather more data."

Parsifal nods, "You are both correct of course. So we work with what we have here. Are there any purchased items present here at the moment? And was there a point at which you would have said the tone of the readings changed perhaps?"

Mesinus: "Perhaps...perhaps when you started looking at that portrait...I don't know, I wasn't really paying attention. Wait...bring the portrait over here, I will do a spread for it. I think it is influencing my Tarot!"

Parsifal, with great care, collects the portrait from the wall and places it before Messinus.

He does another reading - a spread called the Haloed Rosette - and it comes up much the same. Man reversed, the Hulk, various minors...and this time also the Harlequin in a significant yet undetermined position. Messiunus: "By the Throne, it is as if it was both alive somehow - and a part of my Tarot deck. It must be make of psycho-active materials and God-Emperor knows what. What mad heresy is this?"

"And seems to bear an uncanny resemblance to myself. At least currently, though it may not have when it was catalogued. Do we have an image of what it was catalogued as, or should I be even more concerned about the likeness it carries."

Azhmut: "Look at this catalog image. The man in the portrait is blurred, unfinished. It would appear it is not the same portrait." Massinus: "No, it is the same. But its psycho-active. it can change, warp, alter itself. Much like a Tarot card. Clearly it took after Parsifal's likeness."

"Blurred and unfinished, or faded from the portraits memory? If the portrait is an image of a person and the last owner died then perhaps he faded, so to speak. But yes, why my likeness? It make's little sense."

Azhmut: "It says in the document that the portrait as never finished due to the disappearance of Erasmus Haarlock. And it has never been owned by anyone before the Master. Says here it was recovered from Haarlock's fief on Sinophia and held by the Chancellery Court until now." Maxi returns to your chambers.

The furious bidding continues. The admiral is force to drop out at around 5 million, but there are several more bidders left in the race. Elizaveta does not look pleased.

Guess she needs a richer sugar daddy :)

Or maybe the current daddy needs more money? The admiral sends his Flag Lieutenant aide over with a short request; are you willing to lend him some money. It could be intriguing to have an admiral owe you money, could give you access to all sorts of stuff and places and people. It could also be intriguing to see what happens if he can't purchase something nice for his woman.

"It will be my pleasure to aid a friend." RT can't be seen to have low founds, does not sit well with the RT guild :)

And the bidding continues, until finally your firned the Admiral gets the statue of the three-eyed bat-winged feline for the prince sum of 8.5 million Thrones... You notify Provost Bland that you guarantee for the 3.5 million that Malokov lacks. Elizaveta seems very happy indeed.

The final batch of items are what remains of Erasmus' Haarlock great collection of clokwork items. Not just actuall clocks, but anything with a clockwork mechanism. Over a hundred items in all (not a very high number actually - guess most of the items have found other owners long ago). The main piece is the 'Gilded Widow', a human-sized mechanical manequin. It's said to have propehtic abilities. Bland: "We have now arrived at the final piece, the Gilded Widow. A wonder of clockwork engineering, created at great cost by a number of Archmagi of Mars. Said to be imbued with the ability to foretell the future using the Tarot - she comes with a complete set - and relay the telling with her mechanical voice. Unfortunately she is not in working order. The power source is missing. Still, it is not without value. The asking price is 10 million. Any bidders?"

Haxtes will bid and keep biding until he gets it or run out of thrones

Well, with purchase of the seal, the loan to the admiral and various lesser bids...if you scrape togther everything you have maybe just enough to make one bid. Barely. At any rate; the Head Mourner, Greel, steps forward, his worn black robes billowing around him. "I may be able to shed some light on that. The heartstone is here, in the House of Dust and Ash. It always was, even in the day of Solomon Haarlock. He entrusted us with its care, so that it would not fall into the wrong hands. The only time that I may release the stone is if the Widow lawful passes into the ownership of another. Only then will the heartstone be released. Upon one additional condition. That the owner start by asking the Widow to release the last will of Erasmus Haarlock. And that those here present act as witnesses, and that what she says be considered as legally binding as any written will."

That sounds fun, lets make our one and final bid this action

When he returns Maxi asks Azhmut about any news. He take a quick glimpse at the conversation between Massinus and Parsifal but shows no interest. "It was a fools errant." he laments to Azmut after any report. "I don't know if the R-T wanted to test my loyalty or if there was a real face-off back there. I'm returned so I guess I've failed." Maxi laugh. "Sorry about the shouting, it's the drilling you know. Always shout when your in command." he continues. Maxi pauses and a bleak prayer passes silently from Maxis mouth, a prayer which border cursing and could leniently be thought as wishing bad things on someone. (Two-faced-rat is heard but other then that the recipient for the prayer is unmentioned.) It seems that Maxi is somewhat shaken by his former incident. After a pause he askes: "Tell me Azhmut, what do we know of Inquisitor Herrod?"

Haxtes puts in his bid, but is quickly outdone by half a dozen other bidders. 'Tobias Belasco' is among the other bidders. He seems very confident, until the price exceeds 50 million, after which he looks increasingly nervous...

Azhmut: "Inquisitor Herrod is a ranking member of the Ordo Xenos. He has done extensive work in the Koronus Expanse, as well as in the Malfian sub. Beyond that I have no lore to share."

Just as the bidding seems to taking off Inquisitor Herrod signals that the Throne will put in a bid of 60 million Thrones. Is he merely pushing the price? Is he observing the other bidders? Is there some other reason for him entering the auction? At 100 million Mr. Belasco is forced to drop out of the auction. Only Herrod and three others remain; a factor of the DeVayne Incorporation (the greatest supplier of bonded workers in the sector - their workforce number in the billions), a masked Rogue Trader whose name has not been mentioned aloud, and the envoy of the Lord Governor of Sinophia.

"Thanks Azhmut, hopefully his presents will draw attention his way, leaving us to only report witness." Maxi settle down and studying slates of the grids of the 'House of Dust and Ash'. If he got to move out and fight withdrawing towards the docking area he should have a general knowledge of the area. (OOC: Slates of the grid aka tourist maps / city maps.)

There is something odd about the entire complex. And thanks to the extra information you got from Mr. Mayweather - and you own background you think you've finally been able to figure it out: Its not really a mausoleum. Or a meeting place. Or whatever else it might look like on the surface. It reminds you, however, of an Adeptus Arbites Precinct Fortress. Built to keep attackers out - and inmates inside. Yes, that's the only logical reason why it's been built the way it has.

Maxi continues his studies analyzing the chocking and holding points in his area. (Are the big halls easily suppressed?)

The Sinophian drops out at 180 million. Herrod has been quiet for a while. The DeVayne man is quite aggressive, but he suddenly quits bidding too, leaving the Rogue Trader alone...at 260 million...but then Herrod starts bidding again, and soon the price races past 300 million...

Haxtes sits and wonder why the RT will bid against Herrod when Herrod will take it after any way...don't think Terra will let a tarot reading machine loose in the universe.

The Rogue Trader has the bid a 315 million when an awkward moment arrives - the moment when Provost Bland, for the first (and hopefully last) time has to stand up to an Inquisitor and say 'I am sorry sir, but your credit limits seems to have reached its limit.' It's not every day you see a preening cock like Bland so suddenly turn into the grey and submissive scribe that he really is...its an image you can all remember and treasure as a ward against the bureaucratic oppression of the Administratum... Herrod takes it reasonably well. He just looks at the Provost (who seems ready to soil himself at any moment). Then nods to the Rogue Trader. "Sir. It would appear that the honor of granting a fortune to the Throne is yours."

There are no further bids and the nameless Rogue Trader becomes the owner of the Gilded Widow. He (you think it's a he) then debates something with the Provost, and exchange that only Greel overhears. Overhears and then signals the Inquisitor. Herrod remains standing where he is, but speaks out in a vox-amplified voice: "It was agreed that the Widow be activated and allowed to recite Erasmus Haarlock's last will. It was a binding vocal agreement, made before on hos His chosen servants. There will be no going back on that deal. Please step away from the Widow, on pain of death." Everyone complies. "The head Mourner may proceed -activate the Maiden so that we may hear the will. Then, and only then, will you take possession of her Sir." Slight pause. "And then we will discuss the possible implications of giving the Holy Ordos erroneous information as to your identity." Greel moves forward with some object cradled in long fingers. You don't see exactly what he does, but presumably he inserts the object within the Gilded Widow, thereby powering her up. He steps back and the figure comes to life...

Widow: "Ask and be answered." Greel: "What is the last will of Erasmus Haarlock?" Widow: "This is the last will of Erasmus Haarlock...as he wills me to tell it." The mechanical, yet feminine voice of the Widow does not change as such, but the tone in which it speaks becomes subtly different, more masculine, more forceful. "It is my final will that you listen and learn. For some of you I might have a little extra, for others there will be nothing but oblivion. I know not what years this is, but since you are hearing this I must be long dead and gone. The Imperium moves ever more slowly as the eons pass. How long has it been? A hundred years? More? It matters not. You will no doubt have heard many rumors - and outright lies, about my person and my work. They must have gotten worse after my passing. So my guess is that you think me an utter villain. But I assure you, the truth is much worse. But I am getting ahead of myself. First things first. To whomever is in possession of a fine Protasian bolt pistol of the Vanquisher pattern - I grant to thee the second weapon of this matched set. It has taken the life of many of my blood relatives - those I got hold of myself and didn't bother to get creative with. May it seve you as well as it did me." The Head Mourner, Greel, produced an ornamented weapons case. The words "There Will be Blood" is picked out in gemstones in High Gothic on the lid. Opening the case you see a bolt pistol inside, looking an awful lot like Haxtes' weapon of choice.

Nice Haxtes has allways wanted a maching set, the one Gifted too him by the late Inquisitor is not balanced properly :)

If it is a match Haxtes sends a trooper to collect his weapon.

It is a match. Very nice. The bolt pistol you took of the Inquisitor is a fine weapon indeed, but you never warmed to it, as it was made for a bigger and coarser warrior than yourself. This one fits you much better.

There will be blood, how fitting.

Meanwhile, in the quarters. Azhmut: "I am detecting an unusual amount of logistreams and power fluctuations throughout the surrounding structure. Venus would be better at interpreting the former, but the power fluctuations are easy enough to interpret - somewhere deep below are powerful generators, gearing up and feeding power to perimeter voidshields. Look." A coarse hololithic image is projected from Azhmut's right cybernetic eye, the one entirely replace and encased by sacred metal and circuitry. The image is of the House, showing it in three dimensions. There is now a dome of impenetrable energy surrounding it. To Maxi's trained eye another things is obvious; the structure just went on a higher level of alert, as a Precinct Fortress would if under threat of a massive prisoner uprising (very rare, but one prepares for every eventuality).

Widow: "To whomever guards this brave voyager; I bequeath to you my trusted power sabre. It is not the most sophisticated of weapons, but it have not once failed me in battle, and reliability has a quality of its own. It seems to me to relish xenos ichor above all other things - feed it regularly to keep its spirit content." Another Mourner has appeared out to the shadows bearing a jewel-encrusted sword. Directed by Greel he strikes out for you and presents the sword to your sworn bodyguard.

Did Haxtes get the widow ??????

Assuming that Jeb takes the sword (otherwise the Mourner just hands it to another of Haxtes' guards) the Widow goes on: "I am certain the Holy Ordos are also in attendance. If not overtly, then covertly. So I say to you Sir, step forth and let thy name be know." Herrod: "I am His Divine Majesty's representative." Widow: "To you I present this, Lord Inquisitor Melbiniou's Rosette. I am afraid he died a long time, but not before lending me the seal of his office. We were friends of sorts, and I am sure he only intended for me to return it to the Tricorn. Which I hereby do. I may have take advantage of it beyond what was assumed. I hope you like the modifications I made to its security protocols. There were useful to me at least." There is some murmuring in the crowd; this talk is...somewhat heretical.

No, Haxtes didn't get the Widow. The nameless Rogue Trader did. But he has to wait to claim her until the will has been recited. Herrod made it clear there would be blood otherwise.

I just cant read right :)

At least you can shoot straight! Widow: "There may be more gifts later if you are good, but now more serious matters await. As I said initially; I am a very bad man. I guess I can blame it on the galaxy. Fate was not kind to me. It took away that which gave meaning and joy in life; my wife and my only daughter. That didn't go down well with me. I was wrought. I took it upon me to slaughter all my blood kin. By my own hand no less, in ever more cruel and creative ways. Or so you will have heard. What utter rubbish. It is true I killed and tortured those that I suespected of having omething to do with the death of mine. And that I had murdered those that might be a threath to me and my charter, but the rest... Even the logistics are impossible. My bloodline is prolific. Hundreds of scions across the secret, thousands if you count distant kin. Clearly an impossible task for one man. So I hired augurs and trackers and killers. Many of them. That worked like a charm. But I did not do it out of spite or for a desire for vengeance...I did it because I had found a new purpose in my life. To take back that which was mine!"

On Vox : "Maximilian please make your way here right now." Haxtes doesn't think it bodes well when weapons are given to the guests at a reading of a last will, and insulting Inqusitors are not something you do with out a plan, and Haxtes think that the good Haarlock is just the sort of bastard that will strike from beond the grave so this is preparing to spoil that fine plan. Haxtes leans over and whispers to Jeb: "Make ready." Sends the same to Venus.

Maxi looks at the projection from Azhmut. "Can you get any reading on the fluctuation in our area and at the R-T's point. This house old defences have been triggered and probably not only it's outer shields. Relay what information you can to Venus. If inner defence systems are up and active she should get the warning." (OOC: GM, please confirm if Maxi receive vox from Haxtes.)

Maxi receives, but there is much more interference now that before. Ancient machine spirits being awoken, now agitated and confused. As long as you stay close to Azhumt and Haxtes close to Venus (and her drone) you are in touch due to their more powerful systems (and better Tech-use skills). But a normal handheld vox or a micro-beard won't reach very far at all inside these massive buildings. Azhmut: "Readings are inconclusive, but seem to support your assumption; internal defenses are also on line - blast doors are powering up, auspex arrays scanning active, prowl drones are being deployed, and servitor-sentries reaching a conscious state. Movement throughout the complex will become very difficult, very soon."

"Astropaht Massinus, we're moving in. Be prepared to send at any moment, we don't know what we face and we don't know when we die but we should hold long enough for you to send. Brother Parsifal you'll guard our Astropath, I and Azhmut take point. ATTENTION ALL!!! OUR R-T HAS SUMMONED, WE'RE ON THE MOVE." Maxi turns to Azhmut. "We need your gifts and sensors to move safe and swiftly, answer the R-T that we're on our way and explain the recent changes in the house." (Maxi takes point with Azhmut, Parsifal and Massinus follows with all the guards.)

All the while the Gilded Widow keeps laying out various tarot spreads, as if she was an astropath reading the Emperor's Will. A machine. Reading His will. Another heresy. Elizaveta, who has gotten close somehow: "Is it me or is the machine speaking rather incoherently?" Widow: "Let use continue. You have all been brought here for a reason. And no, not for any small specified reason for each of you. You are here because it serves my purpose. To get that which is mine. And to achieve that I need not only be able to peer into the future, I must be able to shape events, even from the great beyond." Elizaveta: "Repetition. It is just stalling, waiting for something. I bet this is more than just a recording of Haarlock's will. That thing is responding to current events, adjusting what it says accordingly." Herrod: "Enough!" A gunshot rings through the Auditorium. A mass-reactive bolt shoots from the Inquisitors bolt pistol, racing towards the Widow. Herrod is no doubt and excellent shot and the automaton is immobile - there is no way he can miss. He doesn't miss. But neither does he hit. For a brief instant you can see the bolt slowing down just as it strikes the Widow - and in the next instant the very same bolt has reversed its course, regained its speed and struck back at the shooter. Herrod is knocked off his feet by the impact and disappears from view (he and his little group are situated on a low walkway overlooking the auction area). You see one of his adepts dive down to help him. His Stormtroopers raise their weapons... Widow, screaming: "Heed my words, or There will be Blood!"

Haxtes speak to his guards "Stay calm, lets hear the rest of the will."

Azhmut and Maxi enter the corridor outside. Lights have been dimmed, making it hard to see for those not fortunate to be blessed with low-light vision (those fortunate would include both Azhmut and Maxi). You see three Mourners - they are easily recognizable in their billowing black robes and tall iron staffs. Only now those staffs are wreathed in what can only be a power field. Power fields that are being used to murder a group of retainers trapped in the corridor. What to do?

To Elizaveta: "How good to see you once more, I congratulate you on the fine gift you got, no more than you deserve....And you are right its staling...lets take that time and invite your fine future husband and his party over here for drinks...yes we will have drinks and wait together...sometimes its nice to be together don't you think my dear?" To Jeb: "You may let the Admirals party get close to me as you did miss Elizaveta. I'm sure you will get that right."

If they are in his path Maxi orders fire upon them and charge in stick high after the barrage firing. If they have not noticed the party and not in the way, Maxi will ignore them and move on.

Parsifal snaps his blade out and drops his less technological shield off his shoulder and onto his left arm, stepping between the Astropath and the Mourners as he does so. Under his breath he recites a litany to bless the blade that may spill blood and snaps a look to Maxi, awaiting his command.

Venus: "My auspex is no longer reading correctly; the Widow seems to be a nexus of a strange temporal effect that negates causality." Pause. "She's covered in a very powerful force field. I've no idea what it is." Widow, voice clearly angry now: "That which was mine, was to be mine forever, it was taken from me, by my own blood kin. It is my will that all those of my blood pay the ultimate price for that crime. Blood for blood. It was also my will that what was once mine will be so again...and for the longest time I tried to find a way. I even tried to buy myself an audience with the God-Emperor...but there are things that cannot be bought. Besides, I must admit, had I received an audience, what would He care of my loss? Surely other men have sacrificed more, for less? But I am not other men. I am Erasmus Haarlock, and I will not be denied what is mine! I will have it, no matter the cost. I will have it, and it will last from beginning to end, for all of time - and beyond. I, Erasmus Haarlock, deny time. I will no longer be ruled by it - I shall become its master. Such was my plan. Such IS my plan. Such will my plan be. I have found ways to peer into the future, I have found ways to shape the future. In ways large and small. This very gathering is once such shaping. You would not even begin to understand...and if you understood your feeble intellects would break and insanity blanket your minds. But it was not enough. The future i ever malleable. It can be predicted and shaped. But it cannot be known or directed absolutely. Not unless you can control the past. So I set about this task with equal vigor...no, with greater vigor, for it was there that I had really desired to go from the onset. To undo the wrong done to me...now there was a challenge I had not dare speak out aloud, even to myself! I had spoken for resurrection of the dead. Explored a thousand different ways. But found no assurance that they would be as they were. But to go back and undo what had been done..."

Haxtes smiles to his companions and sips his amacec and speaks with a light tone: "After putting low the representative of His Imperial Majesty's most holy Ordos AND a long winded speech more gifts are in order:)"

Oh, they spot you all right. And they have nothing but murder in their hearts. Fire is opened as they charge you - one of them drops, but the other two keep coming, despite the murderous gunfire. You notice that the iron necklaces, shaped like black sunbursts, flare with barely visible energy as they struggle to deflect the incoming shots. They don't do too well in melee tough. A power maul to the head sends on into oblivion and the other one gets skewered by Parsifal and then beheaded by Azhmut's Omnisiah-blessed axe. Then you move on.

"Good work men. Azhmut is the area reacting to our power use? I need you to tell me if we activate any systems." Maxi picks up one of the necklaces. "Gift for our beloved R-T." He mumbles.

The admiral and his people mingle with Haxtes. You now have a nice little group in case thins turn ugly. When things turn ugly.

More flesh behind me :) and we all know what happens too the hind most don't we? To the admiral: " Glad you had time to join us my friend, have you been offered a drink? "

Several ancient servo-skulls are lazily floating nearby, observing you. Azhmut: "I think that answers your question." He points his axe at the skulls. Their glowing eyes-socket go dark and they clatter to the floor. "The skulls were reporting to a choke-point down the hall. We need to go through it to reach the Auditorium. Better hurry or it will be more difficult. As Maxi bends down to retrieve the shield-amulet the headless corpse moves once more, tries to strike with its staff, but finds it difficult to hit anything without eyes. Maxi smashes its chest a few times at full power and it is still. The Mourner that was gunned down is likewise reanimated - it takes the head of one of the servants before its gunned down again. This time for good. The third one does not reanimate.

Maxi heeds Azhmuts words and takes point.

Parsifal thinks that the Mourners may have once been human, but that i certainly no longer the case. They have been twisted into something dark and alien by unknown forces.

Maxi passes by a few other apartments where servants and such have been left behind. Mourners are busy slaughtering those inside. Do you delay and fight the Mourners or do you push on?

Admiral Malokov: "Thank you, I need something to fortify myself." Leaning in and speaking in a low voice. "I can no longer reach my flag cruiser. We appear to be jammed."

Inquisitor Herrod is up again. He's bleeding from a shrapnel cut to the face - since he isn't dead he's wearing concealed amour strong enough to deflect bolter rounds.

Too Malokov: " really ? my servants have told me nothing ...but I`m used too that if you are inn the marked for scum I`l sell them cheap after the action :) look the good Inquisitor is up and about surly the emperor protects"

Standing somewhat to the side, Jeb diverted his attention between Haxtes, the sense of unease that had fallen over the room, and the sabre in his left hand which he was holding at a somewhat strange angle away from himself, and with his thumb as far from the power-rune as possible. Although he usually gave a rats ass about psykers and their magical mumbo-jumbo, he wasn't completely sure he wanted to carry around and use something that had been gifted to him by a mechanical fortune teller belonging to a long dead dude with obvious mental issues. Somehow that smacked him as about as sane as playing hopscotch in a minefield. And at least there you knew what could go wrong...

Sticking to the plan maxi waves the group forward. The chock-point is quickly overcome. It is not yet fully operation and you quickly take out the few semi-conscious gun-servitors defending it. Semi-conscious and very old. No match for your firepower. You loose only one man - a guard to a lucky head-shot. Azhmut interfaces with the shield-door's machine spirit. After some swearing (recitations of the Machine Creed I mean) and application of sacred oil it groans open long enough for you to slip through, then it crashes back down behind you. The Auditorium is not far. You hear a voice in the distance: "...but to go back and undo what had been done..."

Admiral Malokov: "There is one difference; I have several vessels in low orbit, maintaining a close survey of this site. And I have my Flag Lieutenant carrying a powerful orbital up-link. You ships, on the other hand, are high up there, thousands of kilometers above. I like this not at all."

Too Admiral Malokov: " I understand , but I dont need vox I Have one piece of astropath and jamming him is hard"

"Get a reading of this place Azhmut and work on the door it may be our only way out." On vox: I'm here R-T, where do you want us?"

Haxtes gets a pained look on his face as he hears the vox and turns to the admiral and speaks : "Please excuse me I have to take this." To Maximilian: "Well Maximilian I asked you to come so I want you to come here, no us just you, like I asked you...please tell me you are alone."

Someone shouting, possibly the DeVayne man: "What is this? I am getting reports that my thralls are under attack - by Mourners!"

The female Cardinal: "And why have I lost contact with my sky-ship? Are we being deliberately jammed. Provost, what is the meaning of this!?"

On vox: "Couldn't make it alone. Azhmut was needed." Maxi signals to the group to stay and guard the door, Azhmut and Massinus before he moves in towards his R-T. "Astropath be ready you may be needed."

To all: " Gentlemen, take what cover you can find if and when someone starts violence fell free to fire at will"

Widow: "And now that the final players are here I can finish this will. Be not shy, step forward and let us see you." Maxi and the brave bunch shuffle into sight up on the balacony. "To the man that is not a man I grant nothing more than I have already given; you have within you to peer beyond the veils that surround us, peer beyond and see the worms and the corruption that dwell behind masks of flesh. It is good to see that at least one of you lives, despite what the Holy Orders may have tried to do. To the Slaught that are no doubt here today - I cast upon thee a curse of spite. Look, I have made someone to undo you, to see your hidden darkness. I do this out of spite, from beyond the grave, for no other reason that I hate you kind. May you all starve and wither. Finally, to the blood of my blood. Some of you escaped me in life, so I have set things in motion to make sure the good work continues. Yet one of you I have need of, and will spare. But will it be you? If so you will live to claim the Spear of Destiny and the Charter that lies on the desk in my cabin."

Herrod and his team is moving in on the Widow. they seem determined to put it down.

Messinus is mumbling something again and again: "Let my Kingdom come and release the Children." Whatever that means.

" Venus sweet pet can you get does shields and rip that thing apart ? "

"Parsifal, are we loosing Messinus?" (How high is the balconny, i.e. is there anyway down?)

The balcony is a half-story above the floor, running around the entire room. So you can jump, or take the broad sweeping stairs down.

If the balcony provides cover from the room, Maxi will stay and asks the others to get in cover as the R-T ordered.

"I have no idea. Something is going on there, but then that thing down there was waiting for us to arrive so who knows how much wyrding there is round here." To Messinus - "Which children? Whose Kingdom?"

"Pray with him, snap him out of it. Anything. If we're loosing him will become the least of my worries."

Jebediah lets out a sigh of relief and gives a wry smile. Finally an order that made sense. Stepping away from the group, the ex-merc makes a sweeping gesture with his empty hand to remove what ancient junk lay on a heavy table, before bowing halfway and lifting it with a grunt of exertion. With the antique sabre in his left hand scraping against the surface, and the muscles on his arms bulging from the effort, Jeb heaves the table back to the group and rests two of its feet on the ground, before with a carefree motion he topples it onto the side. "Here" he grunts. "I took some cover."

Were it not for the display put on by the Widow this little stunt of Jeb's would surely have caused quite a stir. As would Maxi's arrival. But not it is hardly noticed at all.

Messinus, looking confused: "I...what...what kingdom are you talking about?" Even more confused: "I sense something approaching, something welling up from below."

Parsifal frowns at Messinus, "You kept repeating 'let my Kingdom come and release the Children.' I guess that whatever is coming up from below broadcast it as a signal, if that is at all possible?" Turning to Maxi he speaks quickly, clipping his words, "Something has been called, from down below. It can only be bad to my mind."

The Inquisitor has pushed through the crowd, flanked by his retinue, stopping only to receive a blessing from the Cardinal, before confronting the Widow. The automaton continues to lay out the tarot, but for the moment it is quiet.

Messinus: "It's him, the reaper in black" pointing in the direction of Provost Bland, High Mourner Greel and the Gilded Widow "calling for Haarlock's will to be done, for his Kingdom to come."

Haxtes looks at the antics of Jeb and the void look on Venuses face and asks her: " Please answer in your own time Venus I know its a hard question "

Venus to Haxtes: "I could try, but I might hit the Inquisitor. Or worse, the shield effect could end up ricocheting the bullets all over the place."

"Thanks, Parsifal I'll relay the message." On vox: "Choir has called, approaching from below."

"That all right let it kill the Inquisitor first and then you let lose, take cover behind me and my shield."

To Maxi, louder, more urgent, "It's the Provost! He is the focus of the calling!"

After hearing Messinus and Parsifal. On vox:"Provost Bland has been marked. Commence fire on R-T's command!"

You can see the Widow and the Inquisitor clearly now, for the podium upon which the main itmes are displayed are raised up by a meter or so. The gilded mechanical body of the Widow, dressed in the finery of a queen, sitting upon her chair, with her tarot spread on the polished table before her. The Inquisitor, in his white-and-gold, hood thrown back, Rosette around his neck, looking not unlike a king himself. Blood flowing down his cheek, a slightly curved and pointed sword thrust out before him in gauntleted hands. Behind them Provost Bland, clutching his lectern like its the only think keeping his sanity intact. Next to him, Greel, the head mourner, covered head to to in dirty black, iron staff in his hand. All around the attendees and their servants, all dressed up for this event. On the balaconade, maxi and his brave bunch. Elsewhere in the complex, Mourners killing whomever they come across...

Leaning the powersabre against the overturned table, Jebediah kneels next to it and pulls out his sidearm. With the flick of a thumb he switches it to single round action and rests his arm on the table's edge as he targets the podium and the people there, watching Herrod and the Provost. Waiting. Aiming.

Maxi's barked order causes Parsifal to drop his shield back onto his shoulder strap and to resheath his blade, instead drawing a long nosed stub auto from his hip holster and switching on the red dot sight as he readies it, prepared for the command.

On Vox: "Keep steady all, when someone gets marked I'll tell you Maximilian, don't be a wet hen...be calm"

On vox:" R-T, Venus. Confirm received transmission from me. 'Messinus has marked Provost Bland, Choir approaching from below."

The Inquisitor, reciting the Litany of Hate out loud, focuses his not inconsiderable will at the task ahead - ever so slowly he pushes his blade forward, into the chest of the waiting Widow. As the blade sinks in she shout out a final curse: "I will not be denied - I will reclaim what is mine! Oppose me all you want; whatever you do, you will do it serving my purpose. And believe me..." then the voice dies away as Herrod twists his blade around inside the delicate clockwork, and the Widow is still. The moment the Widow does silent High Mourner Greel cries: "There Will be Blood. Thy Will be Done. Release the Children of the Kingdom." To sort of underscore his point he uses his staff, which now sports a blade of dark energy, like a scythe, to decapitate Provost Bland. You can fire if you want to. Since your up on the balconade you have a clear line of fire, even if its a little long range for accurate pistol shots (the Auditorium is, like all monuments halls, quite large and airy).

To Maxi: "I hear you Maximilian E. Dante"

'When someone starts violence, fire at will...' Behind his makeshift cover, Jebediah shifts his aim slightly. "Sweet Emperor, guide this missile into the hearts of Your foes..." As he finishes the Litany of True Striking, he exhales and pulls on the trigger, sending a single shot towards the High Mourner, followed by a less pious exclamation. "Eat lead, fragface!"

Haxtes activates his shield draws his bolt-pistols fires controlled psy aimed bursts at the High Mourner. To Venus: "If you can take out the High Mourner without hitting the inquisitor take the shot otherwise hold."

Jeb's gunshot strikes through all right, only instead of impacting with the target the air around the reaper figure suddenly shimmers and warps, and then the High Mourner is gone... Haxtes is shielded and have weapons drawn, but is without a target. Venus is trying to reacquire the target - the drone shudders and then flies straight up to get a better view.

The attendees have now spread out a bit, clumping together in groups large and small. In addition there are some bonded Munitorum workers, Administratum clerks and IG troopers scattered about - servants, aides and guards respectively.

What does the Inquisitor do? Haxtes intends to follow the mission and observe.

There is also a lot of shouting and movement to and from, and its not getting any better when various people find out that you're all locked in here. The Inquisitor is prying something out of the Widow. Presumably the power stone thingy that Greel placed in her. On of his adepts are gathering together the tarot cards. The rest of his crew have adopted a defensive position around the podium.

Venus to Haxtes (on the vox, to cut through the noise that several hundred confused people are making): "I have him, over by the far end. Do I take the shot?"

Too Venus : By the .... Throne Yes rip him too shreds Too Guards : Form a perimeter and stand too. Too Jeb: " get up from under that table bad form for a body guard too hide when hes master stands tall eh ? On Vox too Maxi:" we are locked inn down here see if you can find a way out from up there and if so inform me and keep the way open"

The ex-merc mutters a string of rather explicit curses as his target evaporates, but remains in place, rising at Haxtes request although with a rather confused look at his words. "A bit hard for me to rest my arm against thin air, Boss. I was trying not to hit that shiny guy with the Inquisitorial Rosette around his neck. My apologies if that effort made you look bad." Looking out across the room, he scans the crowd, keeping a tabs on the armed forces milling about below and the weapons they are carrying. If the feeling in his gut was anything to go by, he predicted he'd need something a bit more powerful than his sidearm in a near future.

On vox to Haxtes: "The whole complex is activated on lock down, R-T. It seems all doors are shut, Azhmut is working on it. We will give support fire so you can get at the balcony, it's partially safe up here."

On vox too Maxi : "Have you checked every possible way out from the balcony.. Its not safe partially or otherwise if its without a fucking way down and out then it is a shoting gallery now is it not Maximilian?.. Just find the door and get it open and keep it open please just give it a go, warp you may even get it done if you try please"

On vox to Haxtes: "Yes, R-T. Acknowledge." Maxi moves towards Azhmut to get a situation update.

Maxi already has Azhmut working on the door - the same one you just came in through :) Above you the drone, currently draped in velvets for the sake of appearances, deploys it gun pod and lets loose with the autocannon. The keening sound of the shots as they are launched mix with the noises of supersonic impacts and exploding masonry. Haxtes is force to lip-read the final part of Jeb's reply.

The drone, which under tech-priest Molochan (may he rest in peace) helped put many a heretic to rest, now becomes the prophetic vessel for Haarlock's words: There will be Blood. The roar of the autocannon triggers something, and where before there was confusion there is no complete and utter chaos. You upon on the balconade have a somewhat better view of things, but its not easy for you either to tell what is going on.

The Masked Rogue Trader and his crew make a move on the Inquisitor. Soon they are engaged in a wild melee. A couple of guns are fired at the drone, either out of reflex or as a precaution in case they are next. But the drone's hallowed metal shell resists the feeble shots - its built to withstand small-arms fire, and few if any weapons here present qualifies as heavy. The autocannon continues to fire short controlled bursts.

The attendees and their servants/guards are either taking cover around the Auditorium, or making their way up either of the two grand staircases leading up to the balconade and the main entry (where Maxi and the guys are).

To Maxi "We need to control this Sir or when they get up here it will be chaos and we will become embroiled in their mob. And we have no where to go until that door is opened. Awaiting your order."

There is a loud ringing noise, or rather two separate noises that take place almost at the same time, combining to make one loud bang. Like to great slabs of stone crashing to the stone floor. At about the same time the lights cut out - adding even more confusion. Venus: "Target has been eliminated. Ammunition at 20%" The autocannon stops firing.

At Parsifals call Maxi moves out back on the balcony. He throws his smoker on one side between that crowd and him hoping to slow down that side so he can submiss the other side.

"Parsifal, you have the smoke side. Pacify and hold it by any force necessary." Maxi turns at the other approaching mob. Shouting. "THE DOOR IS AT LOCK DOWN. GET DOWN AND STAY CALM WHILE WE WORK TO OPEN THEM."

With a brisk nod of his head Parsifal drops the pistol back into its holster and takes his shield back onto his arm as he draws his blade again. Like some ancient feudal warrior he moves to the edge of the smoke, his surcoat flowing under his armour as he glides down the steps. He takes his position, ready to strike at whatever emerges.

It's no use. Not in the dark and the noise and...what IS that awful stench now filling the room? You haven't smelled anything that loathsome since the mine tunnels of Sepheris Secundus. The woman Cardinal is advancing on Maxi's position, surrounded by her servants, synchopants and personal guards. You can see them coming because several of her people are carrying torches and lanterns and whatnot. All filled with sacred oils and unguents no doubt. Behind her is a mob of other attendees. Over at Parsifal's side there is less dignity, but rather more momentum as several panicked dignitaries race away from the chaos below. Not going to work at all.