A group of undead pulled the corpse of the one-legged man into the shadows. The rats pulled the unneeded equipment and moved a table and a man-sized cocoon into the focused moonlight. One walking dead man placed a torso with a head on the table. The walking corpse held the grey beards head still.
The mage walked over to the table and looked down on the old craftsman. Several stone cutting tools were pulled out of his harness and placed on the table. An array of hammers chisels and a stone saw were placed on the table. Only one bone saw appeared on the table where the trades men legs would have been.
"Rorke, I gave you a number to remember the other night please say it allowed now," ordered the mage.
"Two hundred thirteen," whimpered the man.
The mage looked down on the old man from his note pad. He had been blind folded to help keep him docile. In the future it might be better just to remove the eyes entirely. A small table was placed nearby on top of it was a large clay jar that would store the brain. The Book of Blood Stones and Abomination Warfare had agreed that exposing a brain to the environment was damaging. He would need to get it out and, in the jar, quickly.
"Are you still 57?" asked the mage.
Albie cut open his wrist and began filling the jar while he reached over to the cocoon and began siphoning the trapped solders life into himself.
"Yes," responded the old man.
"Is your favorite color still blue?" asked the mage.
"Yes," was croaked in response.
The jar now almost full Albie heeled his wound and brought it closer to the table. He stood over the man.
"In your opinion do you think it would be better to cut your head open with the saw or just crack your head with a hammer like a nut?" asked the mage. "Both speed and safety of your brain are important in this case and I can't think of a third option."
The old man whose head was held in place by a corpse sat silently on the table teeth clenched tears coming out of his eyes.
"Hammer and chisel it is," declared the mage. "Try to stay together now."
The mage placed the chisel against the man's forehead. He raised the hammer and with a powerful strike cracked the old man's skull. The rest of his torso arched in response and went limp. Albie panicking slightly stuck his hands into the hole he made and with the moonlight boosting his strength ripped the skull into halves. The distressed grey matter stuck to one side of the brain case. The panicked mage grabbed it with his hands and began channeling healing magic into the brain to keep it alive as he pulled it to the pot. To his surprise it seemed stuck at the bottom and he had no time to try to cut it free. At his will, the dead man moved the pot closer to the brain.
The corpse did as order and moved the blood jar to the head of the table. The mage dragged the body by the constantly healing brain up the table until he could submerge the brain in the jar spine still attached. The chest continued to spasm. Abbie took the stone saw and began cutting at the bones and sinew in the back of the neck.
After a few minutes, the spine was severed, and the jar sealed. The product was in the mages hands as rats and corpses moved the equipment away. On review it would have been easier to cut the mans head off and drop it into the pot. He would need an axe or one of the swords that the knights carried around. For now, it was time to check on Rorke and how much of the mind had survived the experience of being ripped out of the body. Albie reached to his blood in the jar searching for the mind.
"Rorke?" asked the mage. "Are you in there?"