The hooded men gathered in the large room, twenty of them in total. The room was lit by gaslight from sconces in the walls. It was warm compared to the chill Frear air above ground; the men had doffed their outer coats and replaced them with black robes.
The room was dank and smelled of must and mildew. It was a forgotten storeroom that had been used for various purposes over the years. Most recently, it had been earmarked as the maintenance room for the discarded underground train system. Before that, it was used to hide runaway rokairn slaves and its original purpose had been for workers when they had built the sewage system.
A dark wood table dominated the center of the room. It had symbols carved into its face and the floor around it. Metal manacles had been attached to the four corners of the makeshift altar and straps attached to the center. The surface was stained darker than the rest with remnants of previous rituals.
One man stepped forward. He was broad shouldered and his presence brought a hush to the assembly, he was physically imposing and the way he moved was sanguine, radiating power and mystery.
“Tonight we usher in a new era. We call upon long forgotten forces to come do our bidding. In this age of wonders, of gas and steam bowing to the new lord of electricity, we shall summon servants from another realm that have long waited to return to our world. But this time man shall not be the servant, we shall be the masters!”
One of the men began to clap, disturbing the leader’s speech. All heads turned to the interloper and his clapping slowed then stopped, his head bowed in awkward silence. The speaker ignored him and began to speak again.
“Power, my friends, is the key. We used to fear and worship fire. Now we have harnessed lightning and it dances at our command, and so shall the dark forces that once enslaved humanity with our own childish terror. Knowledge and our driving curiosity have made us the Lords now, and the universe shall bow to our whim! Bring in the sacrifice.”
A hiss sounded from one of the many corridors that led to the room, and a figure entered carrying a limp form in its arms. The new arrival moved with a reptilian grace, sliding side to side with each step. It wore no hood or robe and each man saw something different than the others.
Some saw a well-dressed man in finery, others saw a mechanical monster that whirred with cogs and gears, and one man saw its true form. He shuddered, backed away, eyes wide and vomited on the floor by the wall. The speaker knew the true form of the creature and smiled an oily smile as it laid its burden on the table, a woman clad in nothing more than her white undergarments. Men darted forward to clamp each of the limbs of the girl and strap down her midsection with the restraints.
“Now we begin and the Telestic Krewe shall rise to its rightful place of power, as leaders of this city of New Sylians!”