>"Shall we?"
>Assuming no objections, let's head inside
>Virtually surrounded by the spiritual defenders of Yamato, you enter into one of the bases of those who defend the physical side of life.
>Your first impression of the insides of this place isn't wonderful. The very faint scent of old horse droppings wafts across your nose. Probably the result of someone leaving the door or window near the stables around back open a while back. Accompanying this scent is the odor of strong, cheap coffee. The front room is also fairly spartan. A thick barrier which doubles as a desk blocks off the rest of the room a couple of feet inside, and a stocky looking man in a police uniform mans this desk. Beyond, the room is very wide open, the walls a mix of dull grey and white with little in the way of decoration beyond a couple of wanted posters and assorted other papers and posting likely relevant to the officers stationed here. A number of flat grey and brown desks dot the interior of the room at points, and the chairs surrounding them indicate their purchase was based on cost rather than comfort.
>A large conference table takes up the space in the middle of the room, with three individuals seated at it at the moment. Another officer, this one a black haired woman of human stock, is accepting a cup of steaming cup of coffee from a stern-faced winged man wearing a steel-plated jacket and armor over his legs. A second cup sits in front of Komachi, the only one of the group with a smile on her face. Not that this is abnormal for her, but it does seem a bit out of place given the state of the others. The last one of the group, seated at the head of the table, is an older woman with thick glasses, her thinning purple hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. She has an aristocrat's face, and the expression of one that has spent a very long time surrounded by people she doesn't care for. She can only be Patchouli's mother, you could have guessed that at first glance even if you hadn't been told Madame Knowledge was here, but you can see straight away that her daughter may not have been far off when describing her mother, as she put it, as 'haughty'.
>The man with the thin beard behind the desk takes in the sight of all of you entering. He mutters something shortly which you don't quite catch as he straightens up and says more loudly, "Ah, you're all here, lovely." in a voice accented like one whose native tongue is Francias. He presses a button to his left and a portion of the barrier swings open. "Come in, come in."
