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While their peers in the Merchanta and Medusae stare at one another cooly, you are all too aware of the lingering gaze of both Barak Yldirm and his counterpart Heron watching your egress Neither of them strike you as the type that would miss much, one likely doesn’t survive this environment long without the powers of perception. Perhaps the ramifications of this event go much further in the Palace games than an outsider like yourself can readily appreciate. You’ve no idea how much of this nettling over particular roles in the Palace, such as assessing new applicants to the Dragon Guard, really plays in the grand scheme of things. But whatever the aftermath, it’s unlikely that you have earned either parties direct ire. Their attention, maybe, but likely not much more.
<span class="mu-i">“Please, this way..”</span> Militades leads the way through the looming halls of the Crescent Palace inside, which remain as mammoth as you last remember them, a structure purpose built with something well beyond the human scale in mind. <span class="mu-i">“There are many things you should be knowing in time, my men not being permitted within the Wing of the Guard being of them, but I can at least escort you to the threshold.”</span>
Something of a procession has formed behind the two of you as the group of Stratiokas officers trail behind on one side whilst the members of your own party, Mikail and Antoninus, follow on the other. Between them, at a respectful distance trails two black and purple cloaked figures that seem to have followed from the main Medusae party. One has an intricate golden mask with the appearance of a fox of some sort, while the other hovering just behind Mikail has a plainer mask. Albeit still gold and beautifully decorated.
Kyrios Militades notices your questioning look, and with a grin he leans in close.
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