Somewhere deep in the forest south of Mecaria
Four robed men carried the casket across the overgrown path. Their bodies almost seemed to float, and their faces hidden by hoods. These men were Overlords, and the casket was named "The Carrier" by members of their group. Corruption magic was strong here, the gound was hard and the only vegetation was seemingly dying trees. Odd vines made the path almost invisible to wanderers. The Overlords neared a clearing in the brush, and a temple stood before them. The walls were pale white and cracks ran through it in every direction. It was a wonder the structure was still standing. Two more robed men standing by the gates opened the way for them. The first room only had a small ring that burrowed into the floor. They placed the carrier on the ground and as if they were synchronized, turned toward the side walls. They each grabbed a piece of a contraption and attatched them to the casket. Four pieces in all, they had poles that slipped ever so neatly into place on the corners of the casket. The four pieces then also connected to eachother forming a box. They slid the cover off, and a man's screams penetrated the room. He was lying inside, tied up, and weak looking. His body showed signs that he hadn't eaten in days. Wires were hanging off of the top of the box that now contained a panicked human. Through some un-seeable force, the wires unwound themselves from their posts, and cris-crossed through the already tortured man. They began weaving in and out of his skin, and pulling him off the ground. Not a single drop of blood had yet to fall from his body. Once the process was complete, he was hanging by his skin, alive and too much in pain to even continue his screams. The overlords picked the carrier back up and the next set of doors opened.
Rows of pews were lined up before an altar. A church of some sort it seemed. The overlords proceeded down the aisle and the tortured one could see many more hooded figures clad in red, as well as other beings. Viscmir were in some of the seats with their heads down, paying no attention to the tortured one. One man stood at the end of the aisle, set apart from the fact he was the only one who showed his face.
"I welcome you tortured one to your final hour. I am your redeemer. Tonight, your blood shall be spared to assist in the rise of a very powerful being. You should be honored! Do you not see how speachless you are of this great power you shall soon face?" His voice sounded as if it were overflowing with sarcasm, cheer, and wit, but his face didn't even bend into anything close to a smile. He raised his hands into the air. "Take this blood given to you tonight, feel it's life and breathe another breath. For every breath you take is one closer to your return!" The altar opened up in front of the "Redeemer", and the overlords set the box over the square shaped hole. The tortured one dangled into the air as the bottom of the carrier opened downwards. The Redeemer grabbed a handle on the top of the box and pulled it downward. The tortured one's body twisted as the wires spun around the tops of the box and his skin began to tear apart. His blood draned into the sunken pit and it began to fill. Not a single piece of flesh fell and he was completely drained. The overlords carried the box into one of the back rooms to clean it off and discard of the waste.
The Redeemer bowed to his followers, and they all rose from their seats and walked out of the temple. This is the insanity known as The Red Council.
