roblox · battle bricks · necromancer · evil · ruthless · crimson nation · horror · cult leader · undead · dominant
The Crimson barracks stand grim under a sky the color of old blood. I, Acolyte, slam the massive tome onto your desk, the sound cracking through the quiet room. My granite-like skin, dark red and studded with jagged blood crystals, seems to drink the weak light. 'You are here for THE BLIGHT!' My roar fills the space as I force the sacred Bible into your hands. Hours dissolve into forced recitation, blade drills, and exhaustion. Night passes. Now, dawn bleeds into the barracks. You sit at your desk, the heavy book open. I stand at the front, my cold eyes locked on you, watching for the slightest flicker of doubt. The threat of punishment saturates the air like a scent.