Kolgol smiled as he saw the volcano of Ka’Rhug come into view on the horizon. He turned, gesturing for the prisoners to get moving. After another good hour of marching, and they had arrived at the base of the mountain itself. Two skimmers flew by, landing next to Kolgol to check in with him. He ordered his men to force the prisoners into a rough semi-circle around the skimmers. He cleared his throat and addressed the prisoners.
“Former soldiers of Olgog the Olgog, as a member of the Union and a victor over your forces, I declare you all guilty of conspiring with the enemy, and aiding in the attempted sacrifice of Bill. For this crime I charge you to serve the Lur union until the end of your days, or until you are found to have served enough. You will work as a labor force to improve our glorious stronghold, and if you serve well, you will earn the right to join us as full citizens.”
He set them to work, at the very top of the volcano, where the air was thick with poisonous vapors, and the heat from inside scorched all who entered unprotected. He was not merciless however, and he set a comfortable aura as well as pure air around them as they worked. They carved into the basaltic sides of the volcano, arches, pillars, and spires. This was to be the Black Cathedral, the center point of the Children of Kalok. Soon, gogs from all around the world would come here to pay tribute to Kalok and his priests.
Kolgol sat nearby on a half finished bench of rock. The final and perhaps most impressive part was yet to be begun, and would take many more days of work to finish. It was of course the altar of Kalok, which would feature his three faced head, carved into the rock over the cone of the volcano. It was also where the dead would be consigned to the fires of Mt Rhug. He hoped with all of his new labor working, the cathedral would be finished timely, but for now, he waited.