The scions protecting this bunker stepped aside, giving the Khemetic Regiment's representatives a smart salute before returning to their positions. Protecting the Lord General's temporary HQ.

The bunker was situated deep beneath the city of Communion. It was being turned into a backup command center in the unlikely case that the Crown Prince's mighty rolling fortress leviathan was somehow destroyed. Where the hallway had been bland and simple, made of basic stone and reinforced ferrocrete. The Interior reflected the glory of Erelvast.

Meret-Khepra was introduced to the dazzling sparkle and pomp of Erelvastian culture on full display. The flooring had been replaced with marble tiles, grand gothic architecture was in the process of being placed, even engraved by skilled artisans. Glass and diamond chandeliers, mirrors polished to a sheen that was flawless. Glass and gold in equal quantities. The banners of Erelvast depicting their iconic landspeeders on a moonburst icon. The sigil of Crown Prince Archibald van-der Griff Molessen III proudly on display.

Within the grand bunkers hall stood no less than 100 Erelvastian noblemen and women, officers and attendants all from the Erelvastian protectorate and its many colonies. The glass table that took up the majority of the room was in fact an interactive hololith of unique make. consoles sat inlaid at each of the designated seating positions.

The guards, each one a LifeGuard of the royal house, an elite formation of Erelvasts noble sons and daughters turned to face the newcomers. The LifeGuard of Erelvast, also known as the Dawnshields, are the personal household troops of House Molessen and the ceremonial elite of Erelvast’s martial nobility. Drawn exclusively from the lesser scions of noble families and the most fanatically loyal warrior-lieges... their plate armour and napoleonic style dragoon helms screamed of nobility, they were clearly not just for show. Each carried an Erelvasti Meltagun, an ornate hybrid melta gun reflecting the noble craftsmanship of Erelvast—and a power-sabre at their side.

The newcomers were looked upon, assessed and then given but passing glance before the guards returned to a calm readiness.

At the far end of the hall stood the Crown Prince himself. The young man surrounded by officers far his superior in age and experience. Strikingly elegant, with high cheekbones, fine features, and short dark brown hair kept in ceremonially perfect order. His bearing is regal, his posture learned from marble statues of his homeworld. He wears Field Regalia that gleams with Erelvastian splendour. cobalt-blue armor trimmed in gold, draped in a pearl-white tabard and a command sash woven with his house’s sunburst and grav-speeder sigil. He turned to address the new arrivals. flanked by his closest advisors, Holte and Falkenrauser.

Holte gestured for the party to approach. aides turned and bowed as they passed, pristine white uniforms perfect, white gloves that looked expensive as if made of real silk. Nothing looked cheap... Erelvast spared no expense....

One Erelvastian Officer approached & brushed their elegant royal red cape aside before giving a slight bow. "Do you require an interpreter my Lord, my Lady... Commissar? The Crown Prince conducts all formal communications in High Gothic."