Mokk drew in tow behind Garran. The eloquence of the building surpassed any architecture he had beheld before. Were he an artist and not a marauder this place would be even more of a wonder. The gilded walls and fancy furniture only added to the scene. The seraphim didn't mess around when it came to aesthetics. It made sense why the most valued items in the world were funneled from these lands.

"I'd love to see a fighting ring. Bring the real art out. They can have their gilding. I want to see strength. Power." Muttered the brute in the spacious and bright hallway. It opened up to a rotunda of sorts where the others had gathered outside of the council chambers. 

Mokk looked up at Chii and the other unfamiliar faces and remained silent. Chii would know him. Perhaps she would even remember his name. Memories came back of the time he considered kidnapping her to prove her and teach her in ways he considered only a veteran killer could. Her savagery in combat was inspiring, it was poetry.

The crocodile grinned. Something that few could recognize as an actual smile.