The Hobgoblins watch patiently as you hand over your weapons, placing them on the desk until it is covered in metal. Several of them stare longingly at the fine blades, recoiling at a glance from their apparent commander.
The head of this group, along with the first Hobgoblin you met, urge you on forward, pointing to another door at the back end of the room. The door itself is the first thing that stands out, a solid-looking work of steel and gold, a match of nightmarishly-beautiful proportions. The interwoven gold within the lancets of steel shines in the presence of light, flecks of yellow and strands of grey.
Two huge orbs hang upon the door, each serving as a handle and knocking mechanism, their massive weight enough to alert anyone in the building. The two Hobgoblin guards stride ahead of you, each placing their hands upon one of the orbs, and with a gentle push the door smoothly opens, admitting you to the Grand Attendance Hall of the AAGP.
A massive room of enormous proportion, its size seems larger than the building itself, a massive arena surely bigger than the walls surrounding it.
A thick blue fuzz envelops the entire floor of this place, soft to the touch and smooth on the skin. Upon this fuzz, dozens of chairs, tables, and couches stand in various arrangements, filling each of the four corners of the room.
Cutting a path through this mess, massive rugs of flowing red, one from each side of the room, all meeting in the center.
All around the outside walls, huge silver-encrusted windows, each offering incredible views of Saerb. Situated near the center of the entire town, each window offers a distinct and unfettered vantage point, a view unrivaled in all of the city.
And in the center of the room, a grand throne perched on a thick wooden base. At its front, gold lionheads carved into the armrest, the legs of the chair lion-like in appearance as well. Thick red cushions support the weight of its occupant easily, richly engraved with patterns and crests. The back, high and strong, the crown on its summit a mere gesture to the power of the chair's occupant.
For all its elegance, the room has but a single occupant other than yourselves and your escort - a small green goblin, nearly drowning in a royal robe ten sizes too big, perched neatly upon the throne, his snores echoing royally.