• Open • [Lowgarden] Crocodiles and Coffin Nails (Mature) [Graded]

[Carver]

1 Vhalar, Arc 720
Southwood River, nearest Lowgarden

Carver drifted along a thin branch of water that forked off from the Southwood River. He laid against the flat raft. The dark canopy of swamp flora shadowed most of the sun above. Shadows crossed over him, in the vine and gnarled branch shapes, while his bare foot gently kicked against the scum that floated along the water's surface. He used his rucksack as a pillow, one hand set behind his head of messy poorly-dyed auburn hair. His hair had gotten longer, the wavy curls past his jawline and tied back in a thin ponytail. Along his jaw, the scruff of a short beard blanketed the lower half of his face with dark blond and brunet hair.

He held a long oar in the other hand, though it just laid across his stomach. There was a natural current to the river so he let it take the raft where it would. Usually, he avoided getting so close to the main river due to the various ferries that went up and down between the port of Foster's Landing and the city of Etzos. Today, he'd drifted a little closer than usual.

The Grafter mage wasn't alone, though. Following along, the water cut over the rocky scale spines of Southwood alligators. Carver felt one run along the underside of his bare foot. He lifted it away, upon the feeling of scales, and sat up to look over at Chomp.

"You hungry?" he asked. The gator lifted its snout and opened its mouth to show off its teeth. Carver nodded. He'd spent most of Saun training the gators into a semblance of domestication, though they still were rowdy enough that he couldn't do much more than have them follow and feed them when they did.

Carver opened his rucksack and took out a wrapped package. He grabbed the large hunting knife from his belt. With a swift cut, he undid the twine and opened the butcher's paper to reveal an arm, along with some fairly fresh organ meats. He picked up one of the kidneys, then tossed it at Chomp. The gator lifted to catch it, water splashed from the motion and the raft bobbed along faster.

"Shit, careful Chomp!" he grabbed for the oar. Carver barely caught it before it fell into the water. He exhaled low. If he'd lost that, being so far away from the shack he called home, he'd be in a predicament. He stabbed the knife into the arm, then tossed some black-bloody organ a short distance away. The other gators swam forward to chase after it.

While busy with trying to get to the meat, Carver started to carve away slices of meat from the arm. He gathered a handful of strips, then stood on the raft. Once steady in his balance, bare feet against the mossy slime over the raft's logs, he started to toss the longpig flesh like confetti. The alligators went wild over the blood in the water, causing waves to splash around. Carver stabbed the knife into the rucksack's strap so that it would remain pinned down. He picked up what was left of the arm, and coarsely pulled it apart to toss for the feeding. He centered himself, and surfed the river waves on the raft.

[Rakvald]

The brackish waters of the Southwood River, as much as they seemed to suit the Monster of Pygmalion, weren't kind to the monster. Although he was feircesome in aspect and ability to kill, he hadn't the survival skills to live out among the wilds. He was by nature a thing of civilization, despite the fact that for his monstrosity he'd been cast out of it. Even if that exile was mainly self-imposed.

Still, he had his vitality, and the talent for arcane manipulation of flesh that allowed him to heal whatever hurts had been inflicted upon him. Hurts that were largely the result of many of the alligator populations of Lowgarden and its surrounding wetlands.

He found he'd needed an ally against these devilish creatures. One day, he found something that fit the bill. It was like and yet unlike the alligators. Much larger, the size of a small sloop almost, the King Crocodile matriarch that Rakvald had taken to calling Realeza, or Royalty in Vahanic.

Their acquaintance hadn't been openly belligerent at first. Rakvald tried the same methods as he'd used with wild pigs in the past. It seemed at least to calm the creature toward his presence, if not make it entirely docile. Yet, the more he fed it, the less aggressive toward him it became, and the more it tended to follow around and be where he was at times.

How did he feed it, if he couldn't even find his own food? He grafted plants to grow human limbs of course! The wonders of corruption were abundant, there was no limit to the amazing things he could create using this arcane technique. At least when it came to manipulation of flesh.

So as Realeza gorged on corrupted flesh, left to rot on the banks of rivers to move her closer to where the Monster lurked, the Monster began asserting some sense of dominance over the creature.

It began with fighting her for the food before letting her have it. Of course, that meant making the meat tougher, and also longer to avoid getting gobbled up with the arm once it did go in its gullet.

In time, he'd arranged to have it tamed more or less, although it still needed quite a bit of work to improve. But for now, he had that ally.

Yet that didn't solve his own food problem. What did a Lotharro and Mer Gestalt even eat? Could he subsist on raw meat like the Crocodile, or rotten meat? He'd tried berries, but spat them out before injesting them, finding them not at all to his taste.

Then he remembered, there were settlements along the river, places where people cooked and left their baked goods to rest on window sills. He could poach some of that, and maybe Realeza could scare the occupants while he enjoyed their pies...

While he was having these thoughts, wading along the bottom of the river, he spotted some gators ahead. Damned things. Realeza creaked as she swam along behind him, He retreated, and jumped on her hard and scaled back. Not directing or even really mounting her, but allowing her to do what she would. She was still the alpha in this relationship, and he would follow her lead...

When he looked across where he'd seen those gators, he also saw what looked like manflesh on the raft, throwing bits of this and that.

[Carver]

Carver had gotten used to a bend in the waterway that led to a curve of swamp. It'd be where he'd turn around to circle the waters on his way back home. He guided the raft with presses through his feet, from the gator's waves that mixed with the current.

He tossed the last of the arm, bone and all, with the rotten hand still attached. It bobbed on the surface while the gators headed for it. With the oar, Carver placed it to help direct the raft's path. He gave an enthusiastic yelp while one of the gators flipped over and created a larger wave that took the raft up. It crashed down in a spray. Carver laughed, then paused when he glimpsed past the disrupted swamp scum to see...

...what was that?

Carver dug the oar into the waves, turned the raft around, then went to his knees to peer downward into the river. That was a MASSIVE gator, and what in the fuck was riding the beast? Was that one of those Mer things that he heard people talk about in the taverns from time to time? An impulse to call out went through him.

"Oy," so he did. "Yer a big ol' gator, ain't y'?"

"Can y' hear me?" he asked the thing that accompanied the creature. He slowly pressed the oar to guide the raft toward the bend, so the current would continue the path he'd already been on. He glanced up and whistled for the trio of hungry gators who'd gotten busy with wrestling between the arm. "Play nice!"

Carver reached over to the butcher's paper, and found the last of the organ meat. He tossed it down in offer for the giant beast and could only hope that it would satiate rather than encourage any kind of attack. Still, Carver eyed the surrounding area, just to be sure that if he did get knocked off the raft, where he wanted to head to get out of the water.

[Rakvald]

Pygmalion’s Monster stared out at the manflesh on a raft, as he tossed bits of bloody meat to his pets. The Monster’s belly growled at the thought of sampling some of that fresh organ meat. A real feast for a real alpha creature. But then, he had to acquiesce to Realeza’s hunger. If she proved hungry enough to consume the organ meat, he would let her, and beg what he could of what was left from the manflesh on a raft.

Realeza lifted her massive maw out of the river, and caught the lump of organ meats on her tongue. She chomped down several times, and then swallowed it down. Thus satiated and mollified, she turned around, no longer on the hunt against the manflesh and his pet gators.

Meanwhile, Pygmalion’s monster still straddled her back, and cast a stare toward the manflesh. ”Kin hear ya. I… I am… Pygmalion’s Monster. Whose manflesh be you?”

Rakvald still had trouble with common, even to this day. His voice sounded strange in the gestalt’s throat, rattling and crackling like it retained water from when he’s waded along the bottom of the river. He squinted at the manflesh on the raft, and held out his hands hopefully, wishing for some taste of meat himself.

”Flesh for peace?” He asked.

He squinted even more, and thought he saw something strange in the man’s eyes. But just as swiftly as he thought he saw something he dismissed it. He couldn’t really tell if there was something off about this man, or if he was just another yokel, fishing out of the river, and feeding his pet gators.

The bat-faced monster sniffled through its misshapen nose, and waited for a sign of friendship from the man, waiting for him to toss him some of the meat.

The Monster cast a baleful gaze toward his gators, snarling as they churned in the water, playing with each other, ”Watch pets. Be nice!”

[Carver]

The creature was... talking back? Carver had seen a lot of weird things since he'd first woke on those sapphire shores of Scalvoris, but he didn't know if he'd ever seen anything quite like what he looked at now. He understood well enough, however...

...and he noticed the held out hands... did the creature want some meat? But he'd already thrown what organ meat was left.

Flesh for peace?

What had been the first thing asked? Manflesh must be him... if Pygm-...pygma... fuck, what had it been. Something's Monster.

"Yeah. I am Carver, Pyg... Pygmaleein's Monster?" Carver glanced toward the gators as well and repeated to them, "Play nice."

Whether or not the gators listened wasn't necessarily up to him, but he could pretend. Carver shuffled through his bag, then said, "There's no more left but... I have more... elsewhere."

"Peace, you promise?" Carver's words trailed off, then he shook his head. He slid to the edge of the raft, sat down and crossed his legs so his feet wouldn't be in the water. The auburn-haired man retrieved the hunting knife. He tapped his fingers against the blade, then he shrugged and slid the blade along his shin. The pain struck him in pinpricks, then it seared through the exposed flesh while he peeled his skin away from his own leg. Blood trickled down, in tiny streams over the raft that polluted the swamp waters.

A strip of about a foot's length, Carver detached the skin and flesh in a last slice. His eyes burned, but he tilted his head up to avoid any tears from actually falling. He sharply inhaled, a wavered breath, then he looked down to hold out the bloody stretch of still-warm flesh. Carver said in his raspy voice, "Flesh for peace."

He dropped it to let the bat-faced monster collect the strip. Carver rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. Blood smeared on his cheek. He placed a hand on his leg and gradually started the process of healing the flayed portion. The raft bobbed under the gentle waves of the river, while it continued along the familiar path that would eventually lead back to the shack he called home.

[Rakvald]

”Mmm, Carver. You do meats? I use to do meats.” Rakvald said, as he waded a little closer to the man. ”When I was a human.”

His eyes widened as the gators shuffled around in the waters, causing them to churn and bubble with the fleshy bits of organ meat. Perhaps if he took the form of one of those lucky gators, he could become a frequent beneficiary of that sweet organ meat. As it was, he had to wait for the man to produce whatever he had in his back pocket.

”Promise Peace, for meat. We carve more, make mince meats of pigs I help more, special magic meats.” Then, he watched as the human reached down, stripping a piece of skin and surface meat from along his shin. It looked to be good meat, enough to chew on at least, if not the least bit tender. Rakvald’s chops got wet in anticipation, as he saw the human bacon. He’d never tried such meat, but there was a first for everything, and Rakvald was nothing if not a great fanatic for firsts.

The strip was about a foot in length, good enough to settle his stomach before the next meal. ”Peace…” Rakvald assured him, as he took the strip of meat, hung it over his maw and then lowered it slowly, savoring the taste of blood. As always, he felt the compulsion to thirst, and flay the blood from the flesh. But his spark had no need of such sustenance, having not spent much ether lately. He dominated the spark into submission, this was his bacon.

”Delicioso! That good bacon. But you hurt?” Rakvald said, his face contorting into something resembling concern. With a careful motion, he took the man by the shoulder, with his left arm. It was a tentacle arm, blackened by corrupted magics, he wrapped his fingers around the shoulder, and channelled ether into the wound he’d cut in his shin. Within moments, the wound began closing. Before the bit was done, provided Carver didn’t throw off his arm, the meat would’ve regrown and healed completely without a mark.

Then, and only then when he was sure the young man was healed, Rakvald let go, and stood back from the young human, ”Flesh good. Let find more.” Rakvald’s maw widened into a smile, as he watched the younger man with caution still.

”Taste like pig.”

[Doran]

Rakvald:

Knowledge:
Animal Training: x 6
Swimming: x 2

Loot: -
Lost: -
Wealth: -
Injuries: -
Renown: -
Magic XP: -
Skill Review: Appropriate to level.
Points: 15

Carver:

Knowledge:
Animal Husbandry: x6
Butchering: x 2

Loot: -
Lost: -
Wealth: -
Injuries: -
Renown: -
Magic XP: 5 XP may be used for Graft. Carver used Graft in this thread, but the description of his doing so was very brief.
Skill Review: Appropriate to level.
Points: 15

- - -

Comments: You set the scene well by having your PC draft along the Southwood River in my opinion, Carver. I think your PC is the only one who is training alligators. I wonder where the arm and the organ meat that he fed Chomp comes from. From the people that he killed?

Rakvald seemed a little more monstrous than he usually is in this thread. I found his idea of grafting plants to grow human limbs and feeding the crocodiles that way quite interesting.

I wonder if he’ll actually do it one day!

The meeting between Carver and Rakvald was … interesting. When Rakvald mentioned “flesh for peace” I didn’t expect Carver to cut into his own leg – although I likely should have!

The thread was a bit gory, but at the same time, I couldn’t help but be amused when Rakvald ate the meat from Carver’s shin and called it “good bacon”. It’a shame that it was abandoned. I wanted to know what happened next in this meeting between the two Grafters!

Enjoy your rewards!