20th of Vhalar 722, Noontime.
Rakvald by now had recovered his magical faculties, and was left wondering what had gotten into his head, to think that he should ever consider abandoning arcana. Arcana was a way of life! He was Quacian, full through and through. Arcana was nothing to be ashamed of, or hidden, or wrapped up in a scary costume... Well perhaps a mask was well advised. Rakvald didn't want to frighten any children, afterall. Not too much, anyway.
He was thumbing through the book that started his fall of the wagon of anti-magic sentiment. He was reading through the Graft section, in the off chance that he may find something new, that he wasn't entirely aware of. And lo, something popped out at him, "What!? You can actually do that?!" He stood incredulous, as the wondrous technique of leeching was described in tandem with rousing, to create natural weapons that could be attached and detached at will, so long as the ether to rouse them was supplied.
Rakvald scratched his hood, and frowned beneath the goggles of his mask. "And to think, I was just rousing hands, limbs, and totally pedestrian things! This is brilliant!"
So without much waiting around, he got to work conceptualizing what may become his crowning project. A blade, smithed not from metal, but from flesh, bone, and blood. It was a beautiful idea, and he could see the weapon now, as he drew up his plans, taking notes and jotting down properties that he'd want the weapon to have. He thought of all the fleshes that his half dozen totems possessed. Their particular abilities and such. Add in the possibility to leech abilities from other fleshes, and he was away to the races in terms of possibilities.
His mind raced as he jotted down the materials first. "Ascended mantis exoskeleton, for flexibility and toughness. Cannot be damaged by a singular blow." He underlined that, as it would be important he felt. That was going to be the core material of the blade. However, he'd need a sharper material that was less smooth with more cutting power to ring around the core.
Bone would feature prominently in the blade, obviously for the ability to retain a sharp claw-like edge. Keratin possible as well would need adding to the bone's material composition.
Once the materials were chosen and set aside for the function of the blade, he began working on the form, jotting down and drawing the plans for the weapon.
He made careful measurements all along the paper, jotting it down to a lower scale than the weapon itself would take on when it was ready to be made. In the end, he came up with a strange-looking weapon, that looked absolutely savage and brutal. It had a central shaft made of the ascended mantis exoskeleton, for which he had the flesh to spare.
A macahuitl-style club-axe that was formed from roused flesh, bone, and blood. A sharpened exoskeletal structure of an ascended mantis forms the flexible blade, which suffuses the impact of one other weapon at a time, but will begin to incur damage if it is hit at multiple points at once. The handle is formed of spinal column bone sharpened with jags that protrude from the central shsaft of the ascended mantis skeleton, fused together with adhering.
He had other ideas of course, to include a method of generating poison for the weapon to deliver. But that could wait until a later iteration. For now, he was satisfied with his design. That meant it was time to get to work on the actual meat of the project.
Which involved cutting his own flesh up.
The outgrowth and subsequent excision of ascended mantis flesh from his left arm, as he planned it, would weaken and render him vulnerable. So he saved that process for last. Instead, he decided to mold the teeth and what would be the edge of hte macahuitl. From ithecal teeth, which his current gestalt totem possessed, he pulled them from the twisted mandible beneath his hood. These, he grew at need, and at other points plucked after numbing the flesh so that it wouldn't be too excruciating.
By the end of the process, he had a row of sharp and broadly molded teeth, that would serve as the cutting edge of his weapon. For now he left them in the outline of his pattern, turning to his left arm, which possessed the ascended mantis exoskeletal structure he'd need for the core of the weapon. He rolled up the velvet sleeve of his robe, and looked at the arm. 28 inches of healthy gestalt flesh, molded and merged of ithecal materials and ascended mantis. It would do nicely for the core of his blade. So he began growing a lengthy lump of flesh from the skin there. Channelling the ether and willing it to multiply the cells, it caused him to suffer from a gnawing hunger as the enervations raced to enact his will upon the body.
Finally, after what must have been breaks of painstaking sculpting and growing of flesh, he had enough material, or so deemed it to be enough. With a unceremonious tug of his right hand, he removed the flesh from his left arm, and placed it beside the teeth that would serve as retractable blades. He'd studied animal flesh, particularly that of felines, and knew well the mecahnics of retracting claws. He surmised that he could accomplish a similar effect with his macahuitl of flesh and bone.
As the fleshes were separated now, and more or less jointed by contact, he began channeling ether into the materials. The process of rousing took roughly a break for him, to the initial revival of the freshly removed flesh and bone. His work proceeded uninterrupted, until there was a knock at his door. He turned his head momentarily, checking the entrance to his apartments.
Who could it be? He wondered. Perhaps Renfreud. Yes it was likely his apprentice. A shock of guilt thrilled through his heart at the treatment he'd levied upon his student. He'd been unnecessarily harsh on him, casting him out of the abode. However, as the knocking continued, Rakvald drowned it out of his mind. He continued channeling ether until the flesh was fullly alive, and roused. There, he could work on it without fear of causing immense pain to himself. He'd weighed the pros and cons of working the flesh while it was attached to his own. While it might help make the work more precise and easier to affect, he opted for the pain free option, so as to maintain focus on the task of crafting the blade.
However, as he was finished the task of reviving the flesh, he set the materials aside, and went to answer the door. Sure enough, Renfreud stood there, hat in hand and looking very much contrite. However he couldn't disguise the glimmer of satisfaction that shone in his eye as he beheld his master, "M...master? You have returned to yourself?"
"Yes, Renfreud, we are returned. And you are welcomed back into my abode, for the time being. Come there is something I wish to show you..."
So saying, he led him over to the workbench that he was putting his flesh into. Blood and ichor was spread around the table, in splotches. Renfreud stared wide eyed at the pieces of flesh and bone that laid on the table. "What are these, master?"
"This is a weapon I'm forging. You will bear the distinct honor of watching a master work his miracles, Renfreud. I hope you're prepared to be amazed."
"Forever and always Master! Yes, work upon the flesh to make a great weapon! Is there any donation I might make! A tooth here, a finger there? I wish to contribute!!" He wrung his hands nervously, as he bowed his back before the master. Rakvald regarded him with a sense of regret and pity, but then slapped him on the back playfully.
"Oh Renfreud! I missed ya." For a moment, Rakvald considered the depravity of his request seriously. But then he shook his head. "No... not yet anyway. If I run short of materials or sinews, perhaps..."
So saying, he began his work on Lâmina-Sangrenta, the weapon that may just become his greatest work to date in the art of Grafting!
