Zanzetkuken the Great
Suddenly realizing that the conjuring of such an expansive Base of Operations would be far too time-consuming and, truth be told, not really all that necessary to his humanity-destroying schemes, Dark Zanzetkuken tweaks his plans yet again and instead decides to bring forth a perfectly sufficient Reliquary Tower (actual relics
sold summoned separately).
The manifesting of the Reliquary Tower should take around 1-2 hours; a mere fraction of the time that would have been needed to spawn the amply-sized Crumbling Necropolis.
TorZon The EverShifting
As TorZon continues absorbing the memories of the seven infiltrated patients, it begins to scan for specific information concerning its immediate whereabouts and the leaders thereof...
Several minutes of picking through the memories reveals that the Chosen One is, at this time, residing in the western portion of an immense (though largely desolate) island apparently referred to by most as
Australia, within a small, coastal town bearing the name
Karratha.
As for who happens to be in charge of this particular region of the globe, it would seem that the humans of this apparent island nation have managed to make such a matter just as confusing as the rest of their culture:
According to some of the data, the island nation's supreme ruler is an elderly 'queen' residing in some far-off land. At the same time, data from other memories leads TorZon to believe that it is, in fact, an individual known as the 'Governor-General' who truly makes all the important decisions of the nation, while others still suggest it is one who carries the title of 'Prime Minister' that holds most of the
real power on the island. Further scanning reveals that the official residences of both the 'Prime Minister' and 'Governor-General' are located almost clear across the island, a distance spanning over a couple
thousand miles.
It is almost beyond TorZon's comprehension how these humans manage to get anything done with such convoluted power structures...
Regarding public leaders on a more local scale:
From what the Chosen One can understand, this area is ruled over not by any one human, but rather, a 'council' of them. And, luckily for our little swarm of brain-infecting blobs, the headquarters of this council is—if the memories are anything to be relied upon—situated in the very same town that it has found itself involuntarily inhabiting.
The Moderator(s)
"So then, the fate of 12-14 billion souls depend on the actions a mass-murdering, schizophrenic sorcerer...and the untrustworthy, incredibly reckless individual of questionable competence that is yourself? Lovely..."
There is a small pause, followed by yet another question from his ever-inquisitive captors.
"...If you wouldn't mind, could you please disclose the details of the mission the two of you are currently on?"
Jorn Darkmane
After what feel like an unusually long time of waiting, the door of the house finally creaks open, bringing Jorn face-to-face with a tall, (unhealthily) thin woman of sickly complexion. The woman looks utterly exhausted, and does not appear to be the least bit excited about the warlock's unexpected arrival. Nevertheless, Jorn wastes no time introducing himself in a calmly manner and inquiring into the family's suspected paranormal botherations.
With a dull gaze, she briefly looks over the Chosen One, before responding to him in a rather distrustful, unwelcoming tone. "What are you, some kind of priest?"
Estimated time passed: 5 minutes.
13:10 remain.