Part I
Part OneThe hall was quiet, save for the crackling of brazier fire. In the shadows of the subterranean cavern, a figure stands, shrouded in a deep, crimson robe. The colors of his garments blend with the darkness of the peculiar place he finds himself in, and to the untrained eye, the figure could be mistaken as but one of the thirteen obsidian statues that lined the cavern, a dark silhouette perpetually frozen in time.
Yet this is no simply effigy, no sculpted creation of a trained hand. This is what is known to you and I as a Resolvist. In particular, the “fifth” of his kind.
Five remains motionless, even as the air around him cracks and bends in unholy protest. The shadows themselves swirl in a torrent of activity, revealing a momentarily blinding light. After the flurry of activity dissipates, two more figures, identical to that of number Five, have appeared. For a long moment there is silence, as the figures recuperate. In time, we shall come to know these other two visitors as One and Twelve, appropriately.
Now, one of the newcomers steps forward. His ungloved hands are black in color, numerous tattoos of peculiar shapes and sigils scribed upon them. He grips them into fists, looking towards our original query, number Five.
“I trust you’ve a valid reason for calling me from the eastern expanses, brother.”
Twelve speaks up, joining the protest.
“Indeed. I’ve little time to waste on foolish erran-”
It is now that Five speaks up, his voice calm yet chilling.
“The Seventh has been slain.”
We now observe a long and silent moment in which Five’s consorts are dumbstruck. No doubt we would see facial features of utter confusion and disbelief plastered upon their inked faces, for if it weren’t for the ceremonial masks they have a penchant to wear.
From the shadows of the cavern, yet another figure approaches. He is affectionately referred to as the Eleventh, one of the youngest of his kin left standing. He speaks softly as he approaches the gathering.
“He speaks true.”
The peculiar visitors look amongst each other, the First speaking up again.
“Illblooded, then? I had feared they had made their way this far east by now.”
The Fifth shakes his head solemnly.
“Nay. Decusians.”
Both One and Twelve look to each other in a fashion that could only be interpreted as disbelief.
“You jest. Surely this cannot be true.”
The Fifth nods once, turning his palms to both One and Twelve.
“By my watch and warrant, brothers, I speak truth.”
What seems like hours pass, the four figures simply standing in uneasy silence, their only company being thirteen massive statues lining the cavern hall. After an eternity, it is One whom breaks the silence, his voice carrying a tone of absolution.
“It is time we paid brother Two a visit.”