- Ten Thousand Guns Cult Compound -Welcome to the land of milk and honey, friend, where the sex is good and the ambrosia flows like water. Nestled here in the folds of Beta Sector is a fair-sized marble temple, a thousand cubits deep and wide, gleaming in the sharp Upwarp light like silver. Twenty-three towering minarets jut from the low-slung building in the pattern of a hedgehog's quills, bristling and sharp with razor-tapered tips. The front gate, a great oaken affair, has two stone statues flanking it - one of Frostbyte in his glassine armor, a standing sentinel, and one of Frostbyte in nothing at all, grinning as he pours out the infinite contents of a cornocopia.
Once inside the gate, the Cult Compound stretches off in a series of streets which lead to areas ranging in style of environment. Minute deserts are represented, as are oceanic planes, frigid mountain sides, and low and sweet-grassed valleys. Sections of both high and low gravities are available, but any area where the atmosphere changes from that consumed by the vast majority of sentients appears to be restricted to a minaret. Within this area, moving around gracefully and updating and adapting the itineries of Worship, Learning, and Rest is Sweet William. At each point that he enters between the gates, he is swept by the briefest of cellular scans, in order to ensure that he is not his StrangeSelf.
The Secretary wears a complex garment, formed from multiple layers of black silk that hang from his shoulders as a slit tabbard and are then woven to form various sigils as it falls down his body. Underneath are equally black stockings and undergarments, his gait rendered changed by the heeled boots he wears.