"The palace Pandemonium had architecture like no other. The reigning monarch some three centuries earlier had shipped in an architect from an overseas district. She knew his ideas, although perhaps common where he came from, would be sufficiently exotic in her kingdom to inspire awe in the populous. And so instead of the peaks in the roof, she had gold domed towers instead. She had an open porch at the front held up with most ostentatiously detailed pillars, painted in brilliant white. Inside there were no doors on the ground floor, only arches. The flagstone floor had been shipped in also and was made with a stone of soft blue hues that had never before been seen in the district. After completion it's designer had been executed to ensure he could never make a replica. It was then that the halls of Pandemonium became possessed. A trail of blood appearead throughout the great corridors. With each passing moment it grew thicker, and a phantom of the great palace's architect drifted through the halls, paling her skin to a translucent white. With each tick of the clock she wanted the king's heart to stop, just stop, to watch his eyes become glossy and vacant. The blood of his last victim had begun to dry, more brownish than scarlet. She was no longer human. Every choice had lead her here, to the side of the demons."

Brotherhood report #014