Within this Castle, old portraits hung in the air, and an eerie silence flowed through the empty halls, stairway and even rooms.
The occasional sound of chains rattling and metal groaning echoed with the prevalent storm.
It's sound rolled within the Castle interior. Leaving it spacious and hungry with a far promise of fulfilling it.
But even within this eerie Castle, a room pulsed with energy and life.
Within this room of red, blood walls and hazy fire lamps, a table, ceramic and stained, sat in the middle of the tranquil chaos.
And placed around it were ten seats.
The images of seven figures bounced on the walls. Casting a silhouette that failed to hide the strength within them.
And further at the end, was a throne, large, black and spiked. A work of pure evil, and on it was none other than the pillar of the Cult, the Crimson Lord.
