Promien The Rotting

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Promien scratched at his face languidly as he took his seat at the table, grunting out of what seemed to be exertion as he did so. A sign that he had either been up late performing some ritual the night before, thus causing some manner of increased physical strain, or that'd he'd simply tired himself out while walking the fortresses labyrinthine hallways. Whatever the case, he was here, and taking full advantage of this moment of solace before the others arrived and disrupted his peace with their plans of world domination, the subjugation of the masses, or whatever other half-cocked scheme they'd come up with to spite the lands beyond this time.

And that wasn't even mentioning the bickering or grandstanding that was sure to follow, the very thought of which almost made him want to fling himself off of the nearest balcony.

Almost.

Sighing, he motioned for one of his skeletal servants to go fetch him a cup of tea. What they lacked in regards to combat, especially when pitted against loincloth sporting barbarians with a fetish for ridiculously large hammers, skeletons more than made up for by providing a cost effective source of menial labor.

(To be expanded)

Ada broke the awkward silence by commencing her presentation. She really took her time explaining the inner clockwork of a Golem Brain Micro-architecture, Golem Operating System, and the Artificial Neural Network model installed as the software inside the Golem Brain.

Marina was in the hallway outside trying to straighten out her leather vest she was wearing while one of her servants stood nearby holding her staff.

The servant was a gnome creature about three feet tall, its skin made of diamond material. They looked up at her and sighed while rolling their eyes as she kept fidgeting with her clothes.

"I can feel you rolling your eyes at me, Scara."

Scara straightened their face back to a neutral one as Marina finally shrugged and reached out her hand for her magical staff.

"We've come a long way Scara. To think that back home, we were forgotten by the masses as though we were a myth."

"Master, you weren't popular, to begin with, though among the other myths in our home country."

"Silence Scara. You will not speak of such insolence amongst the Council of Evil." Scara shook their head silently as they followed Marina to the doors.

Marina pushed forward and stepped into the room, looking around at the Council's room's messy appearance only to realize that it wasn't impressive as she would have hoped.

Biting her bottom lip, she frowned and spotted someone already sitting at the round table.

She wasn't a popular or famous witch herself; in fact, she spent over a hundred years trying to make a name for herself in a time where it was impossible to rise above other legends.

She noticed the man with a gaunt appearance and dark eyes dressed in robes and nodded her head once before pulling a seat out to sit down. She picked one opposite the stranger as she did not feel like making much small talk.

Though she did want to make a good first impression... she leaned forward as though she were going to speak, but at the last second, she realized she had nothing to say.

So there she was, leaning forward, mouth open and no words coming out.

Scara, the servant, stood behind her and smacked themselves in the face with their palm.

@ZAVAZggg 6
You motion to the skeletal servant to fetch you a refresher, but either you put too much power into it or the arcane energies inbued it a little too much. Soon you have every Skeletal servant in the room bringing you tea, each of them crowding around your chair, holding out saucers and mugs and appropriately named bone china teacups, all brewed to unnatural levels of ultimate perfection.

As the flurry of skeletons draws most of the attention in the big room, Galeini the GREAT finally sees an opportunity after hiding out in the door way for a solid two hours. The master of the unexplained and arcane quickly makes his way to his chair, quietly brings his chair out and sits on it. While all attention is still elsewhere, Galeini throws down a smoke pellet on the table which quickly disperses.

"Greetings my fellow nare-do-wells! It is I! Galeini the GREAT! It would appear we are still waiting for some members of our nefarious band but I would like to throw nanoscopic amount of praise to the Mrs speaking of her immoral golemancy! Brava! Brava!" the weilder of the occult said with a round of applause. However, most of this speech was drowned out by the clattering of fine china and bones bashing together.

Imbeciles. All of them.

Shandris was left dumbfounded; unable to believe her own eyes at what she was witnessing. These villains—no, cretins—likely couldn't take over a single kingdom, much less the world! She sighed, partly wishing this was all but a dream as skeleton butler upon skeleton butler raced to the necromancer's side, teacup in hand.

At least one thing was favorable, however. With the skeletons and other minions, they'd have some cannon fodder from the get-go if push came to shove (though these dimwits would be a better distraction to throw at the enemy instead, she believed).

Looking across the table as the Illithid took his seat, Shandris nodded. "I would've preferred to start earlier, but nonetheless, let us begin." She spoke, reaching for a series of small, wooden sigils, and then placed them on one of the maps. "As you may have heard, the kingdoms have begun forming alliance after alliance with one another. It has been centuries since something of this nature has happened. Centuries since the dark and vile, as they say, once ruled the world."

Shandris leaned back in her chair, glancing around the room. "So, I ask, what do you all plan to do?"

Ziebach slouched forward, one arm resting on the table and propping up his face. His expression was sour, but that wasn't any indicator of his mood. Many of the mans habits had been inherited from his dwarven foster parents, among them a resting stone face that always looked just slightly put off. At current he was trying to ignore the chronic rattling of bones as the necromancer overdid it and summoned a horde of skeletons to deliver him tea and focus on the most interesting thing in the room. Typically it was Ada and whatever mad idea she had about crafting her man of metal.

He tried to follow along with whatever she was talking about, but it was proving difficult. Ziebach considered himself something of a genius, but though he would never admit to it whenever that woman started to get into "neural-networks" and "programming" the whole lecture started to go completely over his head. He wondered if she was truly that much farther above him in terms of artificer theory or if he could only parse what she said as nonsense because she was, in fact, off her rocker and talking nonsense. He gave it 50-50 odds.

The others began to gather in short order, the first of them being Galeini the GREAT, who just appeared beside him somehow out of nowhere. Ziebach sat up straight in surprise at the mans appearance, awkwardly joining him in his applause. "Uh, yeah. Brava. Very stimulating as always." He said, sounding bored without meaning to. Thank you, again, stoic dwarven upbringing.

It seemed the meeting was getting underway now, the Druid taking charge and asking what their plan was for the systems of alliances that was springing up among the good nations of the world. "You worried about that, nature girl?" He said dismissal. "This is simple; you find the biggest opportunist among the current crop of rulers, someone with a huge chip on their shoulder, and you arm them to the teeth. Gibe them a bunch of skeletons while we're at it." He glanced over as the Necromancer's servants still tying to offer him a oceans worth of refreshments. "We got enough. Then while they're all busy with their precious alliances pulling them into a spiral of war we loot the place blind in the chaos."

Promien The Rotting

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@ZAVAZggg 6
You motion to the skeletal servant to fetch you a refresher, but either you put too much power into it or the arcane energies inbued it a little too much. Soon you have every Skeletal servant in the room bringing you tea, each of them crowding around your chair, holding out saucers and mugs and appropriately named bone china teacups, all brewed to unnatural levels of ultimate perfection.

Promien let out another sigh as he took a cup of tea before motioning for the skeletons to set the rest at various parts of the table for the other members that were currently gathered for their little meeting, one which had started without his knowing to boot thanks to that daft miscalculation on his part. Maybe they would drink, maybe not, at this point he really didn't care. He did have to force himself to suppress a chuckle upon hearing Shandris' remarks however, for it tickled him right to the bone.

"Why what I planned to do from the very moment I joined this silly little gaggle of would-be conquerors..."

He smirked, expression clear for all to see since he wasn't currently wearing his hood.

"Become a lich. If there's one thing I've learned over the last couple of years, it's that taking over the world and spreading chaos is far harder in practice than it is in theory. But by all means, feel free to launch some foolish crusade at the greatest wane in your collective power."

Promien paused to take a sip of his tea.

"I still get the remnants after all."

"They have men, gold, and plentiful defenses. We have a castle in the middle of nowhere and some ragtag minions. You'd have to be daft not to worry with or consider those odds." She replied to Ziebach, turning down a skeleton's offer of a mysterious, bubbling brew. Death by whatever-it-was was not something Shandris was willing to try. "It is like Promien says. We are without power. You speak of armaments, but I see none. Why should we give away what little we have to play silly games of courtship with some king or other noble as well?"

"Although, if you do want to go that route, I would suggest we start small." Shandris pointed to a river on the map. "The Tooth; a river within the lands of the Kracanni nomads. Many of them depend on the river for survival, even more so for their cow herds that bandits prey upon. Help me take out the bandits, and I will give you an army."

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Maere made his way into the room via a side stairway, his expression gruff as ever. Taking a mug from one of the skeletons, he moved to take a seat, his gaze drifting over those assembled.

"Mornin."

He brought the bubbling liquid up to his lips with one hand as he reclined in his chair, shifting slightly so he could prop his feet up on the massive table itself.

@Vatonage 6

You turn down the offer of the suspicious bubbling brew. Crash! The chairs reverberate as every skeleton drops their drinks simultaeneously onto the floor, destroying the lion's share of the china collection and covering the floor in a thick puddle of mixing teas. Some of those items were ancient! Oh well. Who's cleaning this up? You look over to see the skeletons eerily backing away from you and standing in the darkened corners of the room. You are left seeing only the pinpricks of their eyes. Looks like they're a little overtuned today.

@ZAVAZggg 3
The drink is delicious, but it is a little on the uncomfortably hot side (if necromancers worry about such things?) You prop your feet up on the table, momentarily feeling as if the chair will fall backwards, but you quickly readjust your balance and find a very comfortable seating position. Who says you can't be evil in style?

@Vatonage 6

You turn down the offer of the suspicious bubbling brew. Crash! The chairs reverberate as every skeleton drops their drinks simultaeneously onto the floor, destroying the lion's share of the china collection and covering the floor in a thick puddle of mixing teas. Some of those items were ancient! Oh well. Who's cleaning this up? You look over to see the skeletons eerily backing away from you and standing in the darkened corners of the room. You are left seeing only the pinpricks of their eyes. Looks like they're a little overtuned today.

@ZAVAZggg 3
The drink is delicious, but it is a little on the uncomfortably hot side (if necromancers worry about such things?) You prop your feet up on the table, momentarily feeling as if the chair will fall backwards, but you quickly readjust your balance and find a very comfortable seating position. Who says you can't be evil in style?

Maere grunts as the liquid slides down his throat, before calmly setting the cup down, as though the entire hall hadn't just been filled with the clatter of crashing china.

"Problem with your spells today Promien?"

The demon-bound warrior cast a sideways glance at the necromancer, who sent him a level look followed by a friendly smile in return.

"Why I haven't the slightest clue as to what you mean."

The necromancer shifted his gaze back to the druid.

"Much as I hate to agree with someone who walks the path most hypocritical, Shandris' plan is a sound one. If any of you are truly hellbent on conquest, you will need an army, and I can only provide so much as of the present. I say we help the peasants, if only so they may be further in our debt."

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His footsteps echo throughout the dark hall only muffled by the crash of thunder outside the darkened keep while rain beat against the glass like the very weather was trying to get inside. Silently the robed man kept walking down the dimly lit hall his long dark cloak flowing behind him as he finally reached the end of the corridor.

A torch lit the mans visage, shedding dull light upon the mask he wore on his face as he looked at the large wooden doors listening to the voices chattering on the other side, and his brightly glowing red eyes narrowed as he caught pieces of conversation 'Things seem to have already begun...' he thought to himself adjusting the gloves on his hands.

The door creaked open interrupting the conversation within the chamber within which others were gathered around a table in the middle of their own exchanges. The man entered the room letting the door close behind him with a slight thud, as he looked around the room at each person gathered without any emotion showing in his eyes towards the people in the room.

"The messenger arrived late, you'll have to pardon my tardiness." his voice had a metallic hum like a voice through the blades of a spinning fan "I am Mortus of the Crimson Flame." his eyes flashed as he blinked "What has been discussed in my absence?" he asked making his way to be seated by himself in the meeting hall.

Mortus

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@Kenshi@VeyrinDay@Gentlemanvaultboy@RainyHigh@rocketrobie2@ZAVAZggg@Vatonage

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His footsteps echo throughout the dark hall only muffled by the crash of thunder outside the darkened keep while rain beat against the glass like the very weather was trying to get inside. Silently the robed man kept walking down the dimly lit hall his long dark cloak flowing behind him as he finally reached the end of the corridor.

A torch lit the mans visage, shedding dull light upon the mask he wore on his face as he looked at the large wooden doors listening to the voices chattering on the other side, and his brightly glowing red eyes narrowed as he caught pieces of conversation 'Things seem to have already begun...' he thought to himself adjusting the gloves on his hands.

The door creaked open interrupting the conversation within the chamber within which others were gathered around a table in the middle of their own exchanges. The man entered the room letting the door close behind him with a slight thud, as he looked around the room at each person gathered without any emotion showing in his eyes towards the people in the room.

"The messenger arrived late, you'll have to pardon my tardiness." his voice had a metallic hum like a voice through the blades of a spinning fan "I am Mortus of the Crimson Flame." his eyes flashed as he blinked "What has been discussed in my absence?" he asked making his way to be seated by himself in the meeting hall.

"The start of our planning for one," Maere said bluntly before crossing his arms. "We've been discussing what we should do in the world beyond. The druidess suggested taking care of some bandits so a group of tribals living nearby will be indentured to us, and Promien agreed. Shocking thing for him to do really."

The young necromancer cast the man a withering glare, though he made a point of ignoring it in favor of carrying on.

"I say we should just kill them all myself. Bandits and tribals alike, but this is a democracy so..."

He gestured vaguely at the air, apparently content to leave the conversation at that.

<Snipped quote by Dark Cloud>

"The start of our planning for one," Maere said bluntly before crossing his arms. "We've been discussing what we should do in the world beyond. The druidess suggested taking care of some bandits so a group of tribals living nearby will be indentured to us, and Promien agreed. Shocking thing for him to do really."

The young necromancer cast the man a withering glare, though he made a point of ignoring it in favor of carrying on.

"I say we should just kill them all myself. Bandits and tribals alike, but this is a democracy so..."

He gestured vaguely at the air, apparently content to leave the conversation at that.

Taking his seat, he glanced at the druidess and Promien before his attention returned to the young man in the garb of a necromancer. Mortus made a humming noise as he thought about the necromancer's suggestion "It could work if we just kill them, but not everyone shares our taste for bloodshed." leaning an elbow on the arm of his chair he nodded and chuckled amicably, then looked to the necromancer "And you are?" he asked out of politeness.

<Snipped quote by ZAVAZggg>

Taking his seat, he glanced at the druidess and Promien before his attention returned to the young man in the garb of a necromancer. Mortus made a humming noise as he thought about the necromancer's suggestion "It could work if we just kill them, but not everyone shares our taste for bloodshed." leaning an elbow on the arm of his chair he nodded and chuckled amicably, then looked to the necromancer "And you are?" he asked out of politeness.

Promien barely shifted his gaze, though the pools of silver flecked shadow that were his eyes found Mortus all the same.

"Promien."

"I concur! Having the neanderthals as our thralls may be a great boon to our organization. Though may I suggest using our abilities to astound them rather than slay we dazzle them with our abilities? Dazzle them to their knees to the point where they can't help but MARVEL at us and follow us. Despite our resident necromancer's astounding abilities, the living's autonomy may be a great boon in a more mind-centred battle." Galeini the GREAT suggested, all the while with his elbows on the table and bridging his fingers. In an attempt to really send his point home Galeini the GREAT attempted to toss another smoke pellet, this one red and full of sparkles, onto the table.