"The mucks over there, boss," the bandit said, moving closer to the church steps.
A tall man approached, his presence felt throughout the band of bandits that made way as he went, and all bowed slightly, looking at him in absolute submission.
He walked along the line of bandits with a regal pose, his movements not wasted as he trudged those steps.
He was dressed in an ornately designed coat, black colored leather in its material, and silver sigils spread throughout its surface. In his head, he wore a large hat, feathers of crows adorned its top, and it was held in by a red ribbon, resembling the hats that witches would wear.
His face was long and gaunt, gray in its complexion with only a thin cover of facial hair on his chin, and a large scar running across to his eye and cheek.
He carried himself with a grandeur posture, elegant and efficient in the way he poised himself, both arms crossed behind his back, and his face with a stoic expression while glancing at the cathedral.
His form was stiff, every move not wasted.
"Send the golem, Pircle," he said, his face stoic as he looked at the bandit at his side. At that order, the snake-man, Pircle, went to the back and signaled a command.
A giant flesh colossus slowly lumbered forward to the side of the man, Pircle, having him bound with a black chain on its neck and guiding it.
And when the giant now lay side to side with the man, he raised one of his arms, it was gloved, and he waved his fingers in a specific motion, black and red dust gathering in his palm, covering it whole.
His hand now became clawed, fissures of rock-like formations, almost like bone sprouting out, long and sharp fingernails jutted forth, almost demonic in their shape as he went to touch the golem.
The giant glowed with a sheen of red as the man cast the dust into it.
"Release him."
The colossus, now having been let out, rushed towards the stairs to the door. It was moving at rapid speeds, rumbling the stairs, easily reaching the doors of the church, then using the force it gained, it launched its entire body, destroying the door to pieces. The man had used a spell to enchant the veracity of the creature.
"Pircle," the man said, his voice containing a hint of anger, though not visible to his face.
Pircle immediately bowed.
"How did you get my tome stolen, Pircle? I had made it abundantly clear that it must be placed at high importance, to be protected at all costs."
"I apologize for that, milord, the child had managed to infiltrate into the assigned carriage, sir."
"Did he now?"
"Aye, sir, we made the mistake of leaving it in uncapable hands."
"How did the grimoire get stolen anyway?"
"Aye, sir, Deru was the one assigned to guarding it when we went out for resupply; that was a mistake on my part, but he seemed adamant about the responsibility."
"What happened to this, Deru?"
"Deru the man was occupied with his grub, the kid managed to sneak in, saw that he was alone, and without him noticing, took Deru's knife and stabbed him wit it."
"How had the child infiltrated?"
"The book was beein transported through a carriage around town sir, he saw that we left, kid thought maybe there was somethin valuable to loot, and chose the book."
"What of my tome? Is it secure? Has something happened to it?"
"It seems safe, sir. We saw it takin it up there, the boy seemed desperate to run away wit it. We'll bring it back in safely, I promise ya."
"How had the child come this far? The dagger was laced with venom, was it not?" The man said with a hint of annoyance, though not visible in his unmoving face.
"Probably toughed it out, this city can do that to the subjects, make them more durable." Said Pircle.
As Pircle said that, the man looked up at the rampaging monster gnashing at the door, its conglomerate of flesh made arms, reducing it to splinters.
Why did this have to happen? He said in his mind, his patience was going thin, and growing even more annoyed, he needed that book back.
"Boss, what'll we do 'bout the runt when we catch 'em?" Pircle said, glancing at the man, his face painted with a murderous smirk.
"Aye, aye, bossss, whaddya want done with him?" Another bandit spoke, small and stout, he was doddering his entire body all around, a hunchback with a large stum on his shoulder. All his limbs were thin and bony.
He was pale, and with round yellow eyes like jaundice, his face was smooth and without lips, with only two slits for a nose.
"Will give it our finest treatment."
"Aye, Lord Belluk," responded Pircle, grinning.
In this city, named Kadicum, there lived many factions of power that governed its entirety, 5 in total, managing its machinations as the present ruling class. Heinous and detestable groups, their members consisted of revolting demi-human species, daemons, and undead of the most abhorrent kinds, warlords that saw humans as nothing more than fodder for their productions.
Their reach spread to all; some spent their dealings with all sorts of endeavors, such as the acts of slavery, weapon trading, and drug manufacturing. While some took to forbidden dark practices, works of dangerous manners, the use of dark magics, and the research of the dead.
The most established of the cultic side of things was the Advecathos Union. The members of the union mostly focused on the knowledge aspects, delving deep into research of the forces of the undead and the heinous experimentations, all in the pursuit of understanding the secrets of life and the worship of the god of death.
Belluk Olhad was an aspiring member, though not officially inducted into the union. He showed great prowess for a spot in candidacy as a proficient necromancer. He was the one who summoned the flesh golem, but was always thwarted by another after another by seemingly incompetent fools, in his eyes.
He believed them to be uninspired, that their talents were lacking compared to his, and he hated in his cold soul the rejection he faced in every event of indoctrination of members. It was when he declared he would prove himself worthy by uncovering something even the union couldn't ignore.
The purpose of the book was so he could achieve that goal; it was a powerful and acnient book.
He had caught wind of it when trying to find artifacts to make himself stronger, and when he read through an old book the union had, wherein something had caught his attention, that of a mighty grimoire, its origins outdated by that of this city.
In the passages, it stated that it was a research journal of a long and defeated lich lord that had created it, and in the passages, spells of mysterious undeath nature and incantations that were key to the summoning of powerful minions.
It said that the book was placed in the most desolate mausoleum at the farthest part of the city. He sent out followers to excavate the mausoleum, or whatever bandit or miscreant he could muster up, and sent them to retrieve it in a grand excavation party.
They had found it, suffering a large number of casualties in its wake - most of the surviving members of the expedition were now here - and were traveling to bring it back to him.
He was ecstatic about its acquisition; it was the key to his ascension, and the final gear for him to finally be in the ranks of the union.
Until he heard it was stolen.