• Closed • The Fleshcrafter

[Devin]

Vhalar 105, Arc 719

“So, I visited the Order of the Adunih this morning because I was feeling a bit off”, Talieson, the bard, a handsome, dark-haired man of approximately thirty arcs of age, told Devin in a casual tone and took a gulp from his Desnind Mead. They were sitting at a table at Karshe’s, just like every afternoon. “And I heard about this really strange …”

“Wait!” Devin raised a hand, signalling the other hand to stop, suspicious and, perhaps, mildly irritated. “Why did you visit the Order of the Adunih? If you were feeling off, you should have come to me! I know medicine and stuff now! I’ve become a really good doctor!”

Talieson laughed.

“Possibly”, he replied. “But they have this cute little healer, and I really wanted to get to know her better. Anyway, do you want to know what I heard or not, Devin?”

“Sure!” Devin replied. He was perfectly happy with the other man’s explanation. Being a follower of Edasha and an occasional Zanik and Syroa devotee on top of being a priest of Delroth, he considered one of the healers at the order being cute a perfectly acceptable reason to go there instead of seeing the doctor that you pretty much lived with.

“So, there’s apparently this mage at the order”, Talieson said. “He sculpts flesh and such and gives people new body parts. Can you imagine that? That’s almost as weird as you know what.” He lowered his voice as he said that. He was talking about Devin’s strange penchant for necromancy which was something that the Sev’ryn absolutely disliked.

He shook his head.

Devin’s eyes on the other hand lit up.

“No!” Talieson said in disbelief. “You are not going to look for him, are you? Are you mad?”

“Sure!” Devin replied and smiled brightly. “I have something in mind that would go well with the steel wings Delroth gave me! Besides, this guy’s magic sounds awesome!”

~~~

About half a break later, the thief sauntered into the Order of the Adunih, whistling a merry little tune because he was extraordinary excited. He might finally get what he had wanted since he had first met Faith after the collapse of the docks in Scalvoris the arc before.

He was, as always, dressed in silk and other expensive fabrics, and there was a fancy hat on his head (sans Avriel feather, because there were far too many Avriel in Desnind at the moment, and he didn’t want them to get mad at him and possibly try to beat him up).

“I’m looking for your resident Grafter!” he proclaimed. “I have an important medical question!”

[Rakvald]

"Rakvald, sir, you need to settle down..." Juel'rie was very patiently trying to tutor Rakvald in the finer points of needlework. They were practicing on a hog carcass (not one of his), and he wasn't precisely excelling.

"Bah! Why we sew up a dead pig? Easier to do for live pig!" Rakvald bellowed at her, careful not to upset Juel'rie. "Sorry, I not try and yell."

The girl had a way of getting very sensitive and emotional whenever Rakvald raised his voice. She was merely seventeen arcs old, too young for Rakvald to pursue, but many callers came to the Order house thinking to court her or ask her on dates. Rakvald took it on himself to drive these suitors off. She hadn't taken kindly to the downturn in her social life.

Rakvald threaded the flesh of the pig but seemed to be doing it wrong, too far from the edges of the incision. Or something. The Lotharro was on the verge of giving up. It merely was of no use to patch up a dead body, when the living made far better test subjects!

Juel'rie finally took the needle from him. He softened as her hands removed the needle from his grasp, and he watched her work at it. Within a few moments, she had the pig sewn up perfectly. Rakvald sighed, "I sorry. I did not needle good."

Juel'rie patted him on the elbow, "It's fine, mister Rakvald. You'll get it sooner or later."

Rakvald was not so confident, but he nevertheless accepted her condolences. The Lotharro couldn't stay frustrated at the girl for long.



At some point past the half-day bell, a caller came to the Order of Adunih outpost. It was Juel'rie on duty then, and she looked up at the good-looking bard that'd come calling. She smoothed her skirts as she stood and smiled at him. "Ahh, we've heard about a foreign doctor coming to Desnind... Must you be Devin? Welcome to the Order."

"Who it!?" Rakvald bellowed from the backroom. As he came crashing into the room, he saw the young man speaking to Juel'rie, and presumed the worst. "I bash! What you want, young man!"

Presuming, he repeated his request to speak to the resident Grafter, Rakvald's disposition would soften considerably. "Ahh! That me! Right? Ya, that me. I work the finest clay."

Rakvald gestured for Devin to take a seat nearby. Supposing the doctor took the chair, Rakvald smiled at him, "You want to learn graft den? I can teach not the best teacher, but I can try! Or you looking for answers? Ask away, boy!"

[Devin]

The girl that approached him was rather pretty, and Devin instantly stood a bit straighter and smiled at her. “That’s me!” he proudly confirmed. “I’m the new expert on Northern Medicine at the Medicine House! If you want to, I can show you how we do things in Rynmere”, he offered. “I can also show you my parrot! It’s kind of like a Sev’ryn familiar, only better! Do you like parrots?” he asked and smiled even more. He could see why Talieson preferred the Order of Adunih. The staff was much better looking (apart from himself, of course)!

He was about to say even more and brag about how he could see the future and had all those other weird, but cool abilities because he had had a magical accident when a man came crashing into the room. He instantly stopped trying to impress the young woman and made a step back as the man looked scary, irritated and just a bit weird. He had an excessive amount of body hair, he was almost as wide as he was tall (and he was very tall!), and his gut was so large that it could probably fit a whole pig into it … or a small human!

“No bashing!” he told the man and raised his hands defensively. He could barely understand what the hairy man was saying – he had a really thick accent – but it had kind of sounded like a threat. “I don’t want anything from your daughter or your girlfriend or whatever she is! I was just going to propose an exchange of knowledge!”

He flashed the hairy man a grin.

“I’m looking for the Grafter!” he told him.

“So, you are him?” he asked and raised an eyebrow in surprise. The man was … not attractive, to put it mildly. Why had someone that had such a powerful magic chosen to look like that? Unless … unless he’d looked much worse before he had used his magic on himself?

Deciding that this was probably the case, he followed Rakvald to the chair and sat down, smiling softly as if he had absolutely no problem with the man’s looks and … by Delroth, did he have an eye on his arm? Why did he have an eye on his arm? Could he see anything with it?

He pondered the question for a few moments, but ultimately decided not to ask Rakvald about it as the man might be offended if he pointed out that there was an eye on his arm.

He couldn’t use an offended Grafter right now.

He needed a happy Grafter that was willing to help a colleague in need!

He turned to answer the man’s question.

“No, I don’t think that I want to learn Graft right now, although I might change my mind about it later”, he claimed and continued, “I want to give you the opportunity to use your magic on a live subject, namely me! You see, I met this girl on Scalvoris a couple of seasons ago. She was human, but she had those sharp black claws that looked really awesome! I want some as well! Claws, that is! You can do that, right? I heard that you are extremely skilled!” he claimed in an attempt to stroke Rakvald’s ego.

[Rakvald]

“Hmmmmm…” Rakvald considered the young man’s conundrum. Black claws… He thought he could do it, but… “You need dem to work, like slice up animals and people good? You a fighter, or just want pretty nails? I can one or both!”

Here, Rakvald took a seat out from behind a table, and placed it on the ground, so he could be at eye level with the lad. He waved him over, gently, and began whispering low, “I can do, but we need special keratin resin, only found with…” Here his face darkened, and the room went silent to match his tone, “The Dubaebo…”

“Aye… Rakvald can do it. Make your claws sharp dan adamant, harder dan embersteel, prettier dan onyx.” Rakvald whispered lower, if it were possible, “There’s a technique, a secret technique of grafters. We take property from other flesh, bone, whatever. Put it to other flesh, bone, or whatever. I can make wonderful claws for you if we find…” The room went silent again, and his brow cast a shadow over his face, “The Dubaebo.”

“Make dem sharp, sharper dan sharp. You’ll look good too. I think I can see claws on ya. Ya, would do good. Don’t even have to pay Rakvald. I do it for trade of finding the den of…” The room went silent, and thunder seemed to roll. Or else it was a medicine cabinet upstairs. “The Dubaebo.”

“Dese creatures have big spines on back, maybe use dem? Or we leech on it claw and give to you. Or just pull dem out, shape and put on you fingers. We’ll find a way if we can find…”

Here, Rakvald waved for Devin to come closer, as if he had something very confidential to tell him. His brows lowered farther than one might think possible, and his face glowered with untold menace, just thinking of it, he beckoned Devin closer, so that he would be able to hear the name of the elusive and dangerous beast they would hunt...

”THE DUBAEBO!!”

Rakvald laughed uproariously, whatever Devin’s reaction to his little prank was. But no, Rakvald was dead serious. They would go on safari now, and find hunters at the cooking circle. He got up from his chair, and slapped Devin on the back as he led him out of the Order House.

They found their way through the big village, across the ladders and down to the ground, where the fire pit could be found.

All around, were cooks and hunters and trackers. All the kinds of people they could use on this venture. But Rakvald had no skill at convincing people to do things that were difficult. He’d have his work cut out for him if he tried to sell anyone on the prospect of going after a Dubaebo.

He turned to Devin, “’Ey, you talk pretty. Talk to hunters and get dem to come wid us?”

[Devin]

“Sure!“ Devin replied enthusiastically as the hairy man wanted to know if he was a fighter – because being able to slice up people without a sword did sound quite useful. “I’m actually a pretty good fighter. Even the junior warden at Slag’s Deep was impressed with me!” he claimed which was in fact not an actual lie, but more of an exaggeration of the truth. Mackenzie and he had beaten a prisoner up together, and then they had done … well, other equally enjoyable things that involved a bed and such together.

“I want pretty nails as well though! I worship the Immortal of Vanity, you see?” he explained. Having said that, he walked over to Rakvald and leaned a bit closer to him so that he would be able to understand what he was saying better. Apparently, the hairy man was going to tell him a secret. He absolutely loved secrets – especially other people’s secrets that he could use to extort money from them!

When Rakvald talked about keratin and such, Devin was confused. He had no idea what keratin was. A poison? A rare magical reagent? Of course, he didn’t ask Rakvald to explain it to him – he didn’t want to appear stupid. Instead, he nodded as if he knew exactly what Rakvald was talking about.

He’d thought that it would be a simple matter of hopping onto an examination table and holding still for a bit, but apparently, they needed to harvest the claws that he wanted first. For a moment, Devin looked rather pissed off because it sounded as if it would take a lot of time, and he wanted to have his fancy black claws now, but a bit later, he grinned all over his face because it also sounded like an adventure, and he loved adventures.

“I’ll help you find the Dubaebo!” he assured the hairy man, smiling brightly because he quite liked getting stuff for free. “Whatever part of the creature you think works best, grafter!” he told him. When Rakvald beckoned him closer, he did so without hesitation, his eyes wide with excitement. A moment later, he abruptly jumped back though, a rather panicked look on his face. The hairy man had been so loud that his ears hurt!

“What the f…?” he asked and stared at him, wondering what the point of that had been. Had it been a prank? If it had been a prank, it had been the worst prank ever. It hadn’t even been funny!

A moment later, he laughed out loud nevertheless though because Rakvald might refuse to give him claws or make him pay a lot of money if he didn’t pretend to like his stupid prank.

He even smiled good-naturedly when the hairy man slapped him on the back, and he would have put an arm around the other man’s shoulders and treated him like his new best friend as well if it weren’t for their considerable height difference. For that reason, he settled on walking next to him with a spring to his step and following him to the fire pit.

“That I do!” he agreed as Rakvald said something about him talking pretty. It was about time that someone recognized this particular talent! He momentarily wondered why Rakvald didn’t approach the hunters himself regardless – surely, he knew better how to deal with them, being a local. A few trills later, he came to the decision that, while he might be familiar with the local customs, he was ugly and pretty much the opposite of charming.

It would be better to let his amazingly handsome and talented new acquaintance take care of it!

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Devin proclaimed in order to get everybody’s attention and walked over to the hunters. “My associate Rakvald and I, the accomplished naturalist and physician Devin Thorn are looking for a few brave men and women that are willing to help us find the Dubaebo! Fame and glory await you, and you will have our eternal gratitude as well! We will of course compensate you!” he claimed. Of course, he didn’t tell them what that compensation would consist of. Maybe he’d buy them a few cheap beers - or whatever they drank instead of cheap beer in Desnind.

He only began to wonder what kind of animal the Dubaebo was and why they needed help to hunt it then …

[Dula]

"He who fights monsters should be careful lest he thereby
becomes a monster....
And when you gaze into the abyss
the abyss also gazes in to you...."
-Nietzsche

¤

Dula was sitting alone eating some caramelized fire ants on a stick when the man Rakvald and some scrawny, clean looking man came wandering up. The scrawny man had made such a show of asking for help that she choked a bit on her ants, wiping her face with the back of her hand in an attempt to hide her coughing. While the clean man spoke a little too quickly for her to understand all that he was saying, she did catch the word "dubaebo" and inferred that they wanted some help in the Lori. Dula kept her distance at first, waiting to see if anyone else would heed their call, though none did. The hunters were already gone for today, not even Maktuu'kal was here. Most everyone else were conversing in their bubbles or eating some of The Stew. Rolling her eyes to herself she signed and got up.

"Dula help. You men pay? Know Makubwa Lori good. Dula no hunter. Dula..."
She struggled with the word "survivalist" and said it in her native tongue before switching to common again.
"Survivalist. Learnin' trees and dirt good. Lori where I lives. Why want dubaebo?"
Looking Rakvald up and down she addressed him next.
"Nice apologies Rakvald. He has staff good? Dula got better, hits hard! Good to see with eyes again."

She looked them up and down as if appraising them, hands on her hips, trying to seem more important than she was and impressive somehow. Shrugging and throwing her hands up in a "I don't know" kind of gesture she said again in common.
"If Dula comes Dula get paid. Dula no whim at de how. Dula gather some things. Meet me Itọju, two trees."

It was a lie that she was making up that she was unhappy to go with them, she was in fact more than happy to join these two foreigners in the Lori. Dula had it in her mind that by seeming aloof maybe she would get some respect from them and they would see her as a true leader, not just some Desnind townie. Taking her ant covered stick she chewed away at it happily, trying her hardest to look cool as she walked away to gather her things.

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[Rakvald]

Rakvald seemed crestfallen when Devin failed to enjoy his little prank. For the rest of the way to the campfire, he sullenly hung his shoulders, letting his feet do most of the leading as he kept his gaze cast downward. Eventually they got there, but it looked like many hunters were still out searching for prey. This was not good. But then Rakvald saw Dula, and that was good!

"Oy Dula, hello!?" He said, waving happily at her. He shook his head at the staff comment, "Not much staff doing, just get strong, and new animal shapes! Plus, uh, dis Devin. He not got much sense of humor but he good boy. He going to help us gather a group of hunte..."

But then Dula went on to pitch herself as a party mate. Rakvald scratched his chin. Well she was a fierce enough fighter, as her Kai had shown him earlier in the season. But then, did she know how to hunt the most dangerous of beasts? She claimed to have some survival ability that might help get them there, but what to do when they found the... Dubaebo? They would need more hunters to come along.

"Ehh... Devin, you search wider and farther to find hunters. While me and Dula catch up. We meet you by two trees? Hunters know where to find."

So saying, he fell in step with Dula, and slapped her on the back. "You get good with staff den? What other skills you got than survive?" He began sizing her up, trying to figure out by what she wore what she might do for a day to day living. "You some kind of wizard, or priest, or..."

[Devin]

Apparently, Devin realized with a light frown as he noticed the crestfallen look on the hairy man’s face, Rakvald seemed to have seen right through his façade. When the hairy man complained to one of the hunters about his sense of humor – or rather the lack thereof – the thief looked at him somewhat indignantly and pointed out, “Hey, I laughed, didn’t I? If you want to, you can even prank me again!” he offered as that might improve the hairy man’s mood.

While he waited for Rakvald’s reaction to his incredibly generous offer, he took a closer look at his friend.

At first, he didn’t recognize the woman that was munching on a few ants on a stick as if they were some sort of delicacy rather than disgusting things that you squished with your boot. A moment later, his heart nearly skipped a beat though. It was Zombie-Dula! Well, at least he thought it was Zombie-Dula. She looked a lot more alive than when he had last seen her. Did she recognize him? Would she complain about the vision? What was he supposed to say to her? Should he run?

When she didn’t say anything to him, he breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently, she suffered from amnesia or dementia – or she had really been high when they had last met, as one of his friends had suggested. Either way, when she mentioned getting paid, he enthusiastically informed her, as if he were desperate to get rid of some of his nels, “Dula get paid! Dula get paid lots!” He’d give her a bottle of beer as well. Maybe he’d even give her a bottle of more expensive beer because she was a zombie or at least an ex-zombie, and he was quite fond of zombies.

Having said that, he turned back to the hairy man. He was about to tell him that he could take him to the Dubaebo now when the hairy man asked him to find even more hunters. How was he supposed to accomplish that – and why did he have to do all the unpleasant work?

And besides …

“Just how dangerous is the Dubaebo?” he wanted to know before he ultimately resigned himself to his fate because he was quite desperate to have fancy black claws, just like Faith. He approached the fires again, smiling brightly and brimming with confidence as if he were absolutely excited about trying to carry out this seemingly impossible task!

~~~

After an eternity, Devin returned, seven people in tow. Four of them had been lured by the promise of a reward and fame. One had agreed to join the hunt after Devin had offered to pay them and share their bed (the Sev’ryn was quite attractive, so he would likely have done so anyway after the hunt was over). The sixth hunter, a man in his early twenties, had told him that he’d join if his grandmother was allowed to come along. Apparently, hunting a dangerous monster was on her bucket list. That was why a little old lady with white hair that was fast approaching eighty trailed behind the six fit, young and healthy hunters (one of which was missing two fingers on his left hand), looking around with obvious excitement!

“She’s a witch or something like that”, Devin lied and pointed at her as he approached Rakvald and Zombie-Dula, just in case the two complained about the presence of the old lady. “Can we go now, or do we need more people?” he wanted to know.

[Dula]

"He who fights monsters should be careful lest he thereby
becomes a monster....
And when you gaze into the abyss
the abyss also gazes in to you...."
-Nietzsche

¤

Dula knew Rakvald could understand Xanthea even if he couldn't speak it well, so spoke to him when they were in private in her native language. Rakvald gave her a friendly slap on the back, which surprised her, and she patted his arm in the same friendly manner.
"Good to see you again Rakvald, hmph! Has been a long trial since I've seen you last. I'm definitely better with the staff than when we met before and slipped all over the wet grass. My father is the one who taught me the staff, it seems to have stuck after all these years. I can play pretty good on the panflute as well, I usually busk outside Wealth of the Land, you know where that is? Also I have been.... doing alchemy off and on. Have made a few things here and there. I need more ingredients though, that's the big reason why I want to come along. Am I a wizard or priest? No, just a Desnind townie bum. But I know my way around the Lori, that's for sure."
She said the last part with this surety and confidence that was new to her, like a true welling in her chest that yes-- she could do this. They made it to her home and she gathered her things, bidding Rakvald to wait outside. When Dula returned she had on her traveler's pack stuffed full with her field craft kit, as well as a blanket tied to the pack and Mercury in her hand.

As they made their way back Dula asked Rakvald,
"What is it that you do? I know I recognize you from around but we don't know each other other than that one time on the Tosibeere. Tell me about yourself?"

When they got to the Itọju they had plenty of time to talk, as Devin was taking forever, but Dula kept rather quiet, thinking about how she was going to lead these men into the wilds and worrying about who this Devin was going to bring. Something about Devin stirred her memory banks but she couldn't place just where, chalking it up to just a misfire in her head. They had definitely never met before. Finally, after what literally may have been an eternity, Devin reappeared with seven people in tow, one of them being an elderly woman. Dula gave Devin and strange look but shrugged. On the other hand, the hunters that had been rustled up by Devin gave Dula a solid look up and down, one of them seemed to be snickering at her, making hands around his body signifying her weighty hips. She rolled her eyes at him, wanting dearly to whack him with her staff but the time would come for that later, surely.

In truth, Dula knew very little about the dubaebo other than it was a fierce, dog like predator and half expected Rakvald to come out with it now, the nature of what they were going to do. They could trudge around the Lori all day looking for things to get up to surely finding some kind of monster to attack them, but that wouldn't do. They all kind of stood in an awkward silence in front of the two trees that marked the entrance to the Lori until Dula mustered the inner strength to pipe up and ask the men who had gathered them, in common,
"Hrm. You bois find Sev'ryn, hi. We find Dubaebo? An-ee plan?"

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[Rakvald]

"Just how dangerous is the Dubaebo?" Asked Devin. Then the light came back to Rakvald's eyes, but this was more menacing than before.

"Big danger, clever, and hungry!" Rakvald sighed wistfully at the prospect of incorporating the creature's flesh, molding it like the finest clay and making a work of abject beauty and horror.

He glanced at Devin's hands, and imagined them tipped with sharpened black nails from the spines of the dubaebo. The process for joining those spines to his nails was a matter of technique. He could rip them out of the Dubaebo, and then adhere them to Devin's hands, and from there mold them to his form. Or he could leech the quality of their sharpness and durability to his existing nails. It was an interesting thing to consider, especially for the increasingly insane graft mage. His spark was driving him to new heights of innovation, and he was more than willing to go with it.

When at last Devin returned with the hunters, Rakvald clapped his hands together with glee, smiling at the confidence man. His smile broadened when he saw the Sev'ryn beauty he'd dragged along with the others. Perhaps he could have some fun with her himself, and then let Devin have the leftovers. But for now, he had Dula's concerns to address.

"Hello Dula, good time to see you." He responded in Xanthean. He nodded at her introduction, and kind of zoned out at certain parts of it as he focused on the area of skin on her forehead. For some reason, he was imagining fixing an eyeball to it... What was that about?! But he thought she'd look much improved for having three eyeballs!

"Oy, you can be useful den! You help us forage and find stuff we needs. I can identify some plants..."

When she asked what he did, he grinned broadly, "I train pigs, animals, keep animals, always following the path of the Bonde, the breeders among Lothar. These days, I just freelance adventure and do Flesh sculpting."

When they all gathered together, hunters, Devin, Dula and Rakvald, the big Lotharro addressed them all in commono, "I gots plan. We lure lone Dubaebo out of lair, you know where he reside! He come out, I draw him to me, and with a bit of sleep dust I throw in his nose and put to sleep. Den, we do de big magic!"

Some of the hunters seemed ill at ease with the mention of magic, and shifted their feet. But Rakvald continued, "I bestow on Devin, the black claws he desire. But be careful Devin, not want to scratch lady's back when having fun!" He winked at the Sev'ryn huntress that clung close to Devin at the mention of magic.

"If dere be no more questions den, we go off!"

So saying, Rakvald began leading the way into the forest. Within a break, they arrived at a set of tracks, which the hunters informed Rakvald resembled those of the Dubaebo. They followed them quietly as they could to their source. A deep cave beneath a large willow tree. The dirt was dug out of the hole, likely the den of the creature...

Within a few moments of arriving, they could all feel before they heard the deep growling of the Dubaebo. Rakvald held his hand out toward the hunters, who lifted their spears in anticipation of an attack.

Rakvald crept up on the hole, and put both hands to his mouth. Without another moment's hesitation, he shouted at the top of his massive lungs, "WAKEY WAKEY DUBAEBO!!!"