Crisis followed after Crisis, either out of a desire to keep up appearances, genuinely protect the ageing psyker or simply to avoid sitting through the service. The remaining three acolytes followed the crowd into hall of statues, passing a number of retreating servants on the way. Padded pews had been brought out from somewhere and arranged in rows before a similarly portable pulpit which was position before the statue of a kind-faced man with his arms spread wide in a welcoming gesture.
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Main HallLord Bludnoch wasn't the only one to have eschewed the sermon. There were a half-dozen groups of bored looking nobles and their equally bored retainers ambling around the main hall, a few watching impassively as a trio of servants set about removing the body of the dead "actor" and cleaning the blood off the stage. You catch sight of Elsergi Krin, leg freshly bandaged, making his way towards the exit of the court, shielded by bodyguards and hangers on while trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.
Cryvus:
Cryvus stood next to the door he'd been led to; identical to all the others he'd in the Alabaster Court except for the fact that it was shut tight and, after a careful try of the handle, locked. Crisis looked at him, glanced at the door and back at the senior acolyte again. His expression was hidden but his body language was clear enough. All he needed was the command and he'd set about bypassing the security measures placed between them and where Cryvus wanted to be.
Cryvus:
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Hall of StatuesThe sermon was something quite unusual. The preacher who took to the pulpit wore a heavy ceremonial robe with an oversized round collar and sleeves. He raises his voice to its fullest, the room falling silent in response, and greeted them before expressing how happy he was to see so many faces in the crowd, both familiar and new alike. What followed was a short speech about how blessed all those present are that the God-Emperor choose that they should serve in leading, instructing and organizing the lesser citizens of His Glorious Imperium and that they too deserved to be happy about their role in the society and should give praise to the Emperor. His tone was far more amicable than any man of the cloth they'd received a sermon from before. Mithras and Gunner, both hailing from agri-worlds, were more used to the gruff commands of simple men who extolled the importance of doing their duty and serving God-Emperor and Imperium. For Mikolas, whose experience with such things was limited to what he'd seen on Iocanthos and the deadly-serious ceremonies that had been held in the Bastion Serpentis, the contrast was even more apparent.
Any thoughts they may have been contemplating were interrupted when the orchestral music began, played by some unseen band, and written lyrics sprung into being above them, hanging there and flickering occasionally as the holoprojection they'd seen back in orbit had done. The congregation quickly began to sing, plucking the words of the hymn out of the air above them.
(Here's an update on everyone's positions. Cryvus and Crisis (purple) are in front of a door that leads into one of the rooms marked 6. Mithras, Gunner and Mikolas are in the hall of statues.)