Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25684606-20180404122401/@comment-25684606-20180405155417

The cargo bay was indeed empty, the hatch leading to the cockpit closed. Once the last of you entered and sat down, the hatch slowly closed, blocking out the sight of Sylvain. The rumble of the engines rattles you in your seats and the lights inside the cargo bay jump to a flaring red. As the engines start to howl loudly, a feeling of sudden elevation seems to press your stomachs into your knees for a split second. The Valkyrie accelerates rapidly, taking an upward course.

With a crackle of static, the vox speaker comes to life, a brief silence suddenly interrupted by a lightly distorted, male voice.

“Welcome, sisters. Lady Tenley is ever busy, but you will meet her as soon as we reach the  Dubium Venatio. Until then, I recommend you fasten your seat-belts for the ascension through the atmosphere.”

The whole craft tilts upwards and accelerates rapidly as soon as the vox dies with a dry click. You hastily fasten the magnet-locks of the belts as the cabin decompresses with the hiss of air. The belts are soon are everything that keeps you in your seats while the barely muffled howl of the engines grows louder and louder and the subtle vibration shaking the Valkyrie’s frame intensifies steadily. Eventually, some of the pressure and the feeling of gravity eventually fades away. Time stretches as the aircraft moves through weightless space and the only sense of direction you have is a vague sense of motion.

Finally, you feel the Valkyrie slow down and come to a halt and descend before connecting with ground. You faintly hear a siren blaring beyond the hull of the vessel and a moment later, gravity returns. The hatch unlocks and opens, the meanwhile stale, hot air of the cargo bay being sucked outside. Once you get up from your seats and step down the ramp, you find yourself inside a massive hangar, around 200 meters in length, 100 in width and 50 in height. Behind the Valkyrie lies a massive, double-winged gate and the rest of the hangar is filled with numerous vessels or heaps of cargo, both hidden away under large tarps.

“Welcome aboard the Dubium Venatio, honored sisters.” The voice comes from an officer wearing the distinct blue garb of the Imperial Navy and you recognize it as the on speaking through the vox earlier. The man, featuring wake, dark brown eyes and a shaved head with a dark, bushy moustache bows deeply.

“I will guide you to Lady Tenley’s quarters, please follow me.” He turns on his heel before you have a chance to reply and walks towards the opposite end of the hangar.

Once you leave the hangar behind, your way leads through narrow steel corridors with closed hatches left and right. Yellow light rods illuminate the monotone way and the only change in the view are several doors along the way, each plastered with purity seals, papers with holy fragments of holy scripture and tied shit with heavy, silver chains. Each of them is guarded by a man or woman, carrying a shotgun and wearing thick, concealing armor. They bow or salute as you pass but remain immobile otherwise.

Eventually, you all enter an elevator, which takes you up to a wholly different part of the ship. The corridors’ walls and floors are boarded with dark, polished wood and lit brightly. Paintings of men and women in armor and robes adorn the walls and a thick carpet dampens your steps. Your guide stops in front of a leather-clad door, knocks briefly and pushes it open once he hears a faint command from inside. Then, he leaves.

The room is a rough square, cabinets with weapons, skulls or mechanical objects occupying the rounded corners. Tall book shelves cover the left and right wall, reaching to the ceiling, which features a painting of the galaxy, their boards bending under the weight of their load. The center-piece of the room, however, is a large wooden desk in the center, decorated with nautical motifs wrought from gold. It overflows with books, papers, scrolls, data-slates, pict images, scribbles and books, the sheer mass of them spilling on the carpet.

Aside from you, there are two other humans in the room. To your left, behind a smaller, portable desk, sits a man in wheeled chair, his slender frame clad in a thick, checkered green robe. His features, though gaunt, are outstandingly beautiful, the only sight staining his fair skin and golden locks being two thick, segmented tubes growing from his temples and disappearing over his shoulders behind the chair. He looks up briefly as you enter, a smile flickering over his face and through his blue eyes before his gaze returns to the desk in front of him, covered in a set of rectangular, skillfully painted cards; The Emperor’s Tarot.

The second one sits behind the central desk. A woman, her face with a strict, straight nose, thin lips and dark gray eyes is framed by strands of foxy red hair escaping from the tightly knit bun on the back of her head. Gray streaks on her temples as well as faint wrinkles around her eyes and mouth indicate progressed age. She wears a simple, green vest with a high collar over a white shirt with rolled up sleeves, revealing her left arm to bionic, though covered in elegantly curved, pearly white, gold-lined, ceramite plates. Thick brown leather gloves reach to her wrists, her right fist supporting her head as she leans back in the high-backed chair, the left one's fingers drumming faintly on the leather-covered armrest. She examines you with a direct, unrelenting stare, carrying the unspoken order for you to speak first.