The discussion that followed about the quality of furniture from M36 wasn't much of a discussion, truth be told, and more like a monologue. Salvius occasionally went on rants like this, something Gormog had always tolerated, but he didn't pretend to understand what the historian would talk about -- or why. Usually, he didn't listen at all. 

Their descent through the hive was an interesting experience. Gormog had been instructed by Salvius to keep his ripper gun slung around his preposterously large torso while they were in civilized society, but the Ogryn reached for the weapon and kept it firmly in his grip when they reached the Underhive. The hairs on the back of his neck stood perpetually on end. It was obvious why; all sorts of nefarious people (and other things) infested the dark, damp streets, so low in the hive that the sun didn't reach the cobblestones. The Ogryn's gargantuan stature was a big deterrent, of course, and nobody wanted to mess with a creature that would make the average Space Marine look small, but the sense of impending danger never left Gormog. 

He was somewhat surprised when Salvius motioned for them to stop and pointed at the sign that hung over a small shop's door: [i]The Gentlemen's Boutique of Intriguing Antiques[/i]. The fact that Gormog couldn't read was momentarily lost on Salvius, and the Ogryn dallied for a few seconds while his infinitely more intelligent companion entered the shop. Was this really the place? The conversation between the preacher and the historian in the shrine had seemed important to Gormog -- perhaps because of an ancient association between places of Imperial worship and... well, importance -- and he found it difficult to rhyme that with this seemingly insignificant, small storefront. At least the techno-library had been imposing. 

When he finally entered, squeezing his large frame through the door, Salvius had already presented the paper and the stone to the guard and had been waved through. Gormog followed, growing increasingly unsure about the whole thing as they made their way through the subterranean tunnel, but his spirits lifted a little when the perverse heresy of the VIP section was revealed to him. The allure of the sensual dancers failed to make an impression on the Ogryn, but the fighting pits immediately grabbed his attention. Losing sight of Salvius, Gormog approached one, easily peering over the heads of the baying crowd, and narrowed his eyes at the combatants currently engaged in mortal combat, signifying that old human hubris: [i]I could take them.[/i] 

"Looks fun," he muttered to himself. One spectator turned around at this and looked up at Gormog's face, smiling. "Then perhaps you should join in, friend!" 

[@Jbcool] [@Keepvogel]