Council of corruption

In a room far from the Horizon, five individuals sit around a table in a massive throne room. The throne sits empty as always, shrouded in purple cloth to represent the absent leader of the Order. At the table, the council who have nominal control over the empire discuss the latest happenings and decide upon courses of action. Two men are high level administrators, bureaucrats and yes men of little influence within this chamber. They know that their power, though considerable, is fleeting should they attempt to go against the will of the true powers in any way.

The other three are the bedrock of power in the order, primarily the first, though as usual, she shows little interest in anything beyond her tinkering. Even now, as she sits at the table, she has some project she is fiddling with as she ignores the conversation.

Her name is Kaeli, and she is a technomage, a mage with the power to fuse magic and technology, something essentially unheard of, and the source of much of the rise to power of the Order. Her dark skin and curly black hair are lit by an otherworldly blue glow as she works. Disdainful of vanity, she is nevertheless attractive, though she makes no effort to highlight it. Her obvious apathy towards the Order has led to rumors that she may not be there of her own free will.

Seated across from Kaeli is a formless mass of robes, tattered and worn.

A withered and diseased looking hand rests on the table, and corruption seems to rise off him like a heat shimmer. Once, he was a renowned elven sorcerer, but there is little left of the man known as Niran. Outside of the ruling council, he is known as The Corrupted, or the Dark One, and is avoided at all costs.

At the head of the table sits the face of the Order, and the leader of the council.

A consummate warrior, and as vicious as she is beautiful, Victoria the Silver sighs as she flips through the documents on the table. The silver hair that is her namesake frames a surprisingly delicate face, her youthful features betraying her half elven heritage. Dark rings around her eyes, however, hint at the corruption within. She looks to the cowled mage and speaks.

“Something has come through the barrier. Several of our seers have confirmed it. How is that possible, Niran?”

A suggestion of a shrug from within the tones, and he speaks in a raspy whisper. “It should not be possible. But things are strange. More change storms are occurring, and our prison fleet is struggling to contain the monster population.”

Victoria shakes her head, turning to Kaeli. “Speaking of which, one of your ship prototypes has sunk. All hands lost. We need more of those.”

The technomage sighs, shaking her head. “It’s always something. Fine.”

The silver haired warrior glares at Kaeli, who pointedly ignores her. Sighing again, Victoria rubs the bridge of her nose. “One more thing regarding the fleet. One of our flagships was attacked. One of the mage captains fled here. I have his report, and there are several unusual things that I will need to discuss with the leader.”

Niran chuckles. “And the coward?”

Victoria makes a gesture, and a pair of guards drag the struggling young mage into the room. Victoria clears her throat. “We have read your report, young mage, and we will act upon the warnings you bring. However, your cowardice in the face of an enemy is unforgivable. Your punishment is to be given to the corruption.”

Niran rises from his seat and approaches the struggling mage. A whispered word, and a magical glow surrounds the prisoner, holding him paralyzed, though the terror in his eyes is obvious as Niran reaches out with a withered hand, gently placing a finger upon the mage’s brow. Upon removing the finger, Niran turns and walks back to his seat, the glow fading as the guards back away.

The mage thrashes, blackness spreading from the point he was touched, growths and protrusions sprouting as it spreads. He falls to the floor, writhing in agony as his body rebels against itself. Bones crack as muscles work against each other, and soon the mage is little more than a mass of bloody flesh, rapidly blackening.

Victoria shudders in spite of herself, but collects herself quickly. Standing, she looks at the others, ignoring the quivering lump that was once a person off to the side.

“I must confer with our leader. The rest of you have jobs to do. Dismissed.”