77th of Ash, 4621
"Oh, that thing," Raphael continued in regard to the sheet of skin he'd cut from the cadaver across the room. "To hold it in place, just press the button beneath the switch. That will... Nail it in place while you manipulate the rest," he explained while Arkash held the Embalmer's Tongs steady.
A flick of his tongue and the furrow of his brow saw him hold the fresh skin over the wound he'd created, then pressed the indicated button with a resounding crunch of a click, akin to some artificing tool he'd witnessed in Lorien. The spot was indeed nailed to the sedated soldier's body, and Arkash took the liberty of seizing the far end to pull the sheet fully across the man, without strain, and without air pockets.
"Anyway, as you were saying?" Raphael continued in the low lamplight of the necromancer's laboratory. It was fairly obvious to the Rath just what the mage was after, but there was also the side of him that believed Raphael was trying to help. After all, neither of them really wanted to be with one another for however long it would take him to master Necromancy, so why didn't he just explain the specific task he had in mind?
But the fact that Raphael had dismissed Arkash's mentorship, even the wellbeing of the man he was operating on, in favor of the knowledge he offered. Wasn't that suspicious? But really, what could Raphael do with what he was about to share? As Arkash nailed the far corner of the sheet of skin with a click of the button, he nodded. "The people I want to heal..." Arkash began as he took another corner of skin, "are... Sorta stuck together," he began to explain.
Silence came from the Human as Arkash nailed the next corner, followed by an intrigued "what do you mean?"
Arkash took one edge of the skin sheet, and carefully began to mold it over with his fingers, pressing the skin to be flush with the muscle and squeezing out any air bubbles. "...Like, someone stuck them all together, fifteen different people in one giant... Golem... Sort of thing," he explained, then looked up to ask "how's this?" In reference to the skin. Raphael held an expression he hadn't seen on the man before, that of wide eyes, uncertainty, even fear. hell, he could smell the fear on the man, feel the quickened beat of his heart. "Raphael..?" He asked again.
Recognition flashed in the human's eyes, and Arkash released the Tongs. "...yes, that's fine," he declared, but his eyes didn't remain on the skin for long. His gaze was swiftly upon the Rathor again. "Flesh golems?" Raphael asked. "Where?"
"A remote village in Tyrclaid," he explained. "There's a few of them, like a trail... Some of them are worse than others, like someone's experimenting, trying to make-"
"A superweapon," Raphael finished his sentence, "someone's trying to make a superweapon... And you want Necromancy so that you can fix them, right?"
A nod followed the human's question. "Well, yes... But the people in the golem are ...Well, they're important to me," he began to explain and set the Tongs down. "...All the clues I've found so far show that the mage who did it is from here, from Daravin. When I find them, I'm going to kill them," Arkash smiled toward the human, who offered a supportive grin.
"That's admirable... You know, after doing my research on you, I didn't think you'd ever care about helping some animals so far from home. What of your revolution?" The human leaned in to get a better eye of the work Araksh was doing, then nodded. "Looks good, you can nail the last corner now," he spoke with a motion of his head.
At once, Arkash recollected the Tongs, and seized the last corner as instructed. With the ether the tool commanded coursing through the skin, Arkash set the last stretch with his fingers, then stapled the stretch of skin in place with a press of the button. As the click sounded, the stretch of skin became stuck in place, allowing the Rath to continue his work. "...It's on hold for now," he spoke with some degree of uncertainty. Fayeth had told him directly not to go galavanting through the Omen-crazed streets of Daravin, but he couldn't leave them like that after everything they'd done for him.
"...On hold?" Raphael asked with a scratch of his chin. "Interesting..."
Arkash lifted a hand and waved. "Well not totally, my friend is looking after everything while I'm away," Fayeth and Asmodei had everything covered, he imagined. It was hard to say though, he wasn't in contact with them. A glance down at the stapled skin roused recognition in Arkash's eyes, and he lifted his gaze back to the Doctor. "...Now do I just fill in the gaps with Sinew Foam?"
"Right," Raphael nodded. "You might want to trim the excess first, though," he spoke with a motion of his head. A nod from the Rath followed the gesture, and Arkash went about trimming the excess skin with the scalpel... Then he paused. The Necrodoctor raised a brow. "...What is it?"
Arkash furrowed his brow; he didn't know much about human anatomy, but something seemed off about the pectoral he was working on. "...Is his uh... The nipple, is it supposed to be that close to the armpit?" he stepped back as Raphael leaned forward, rose both brows, then sighed.
"No, it's not," the mage started, disappointment in his tone. "You put it on back the wrong way around," the noble returned with a shake of his head. "I guess he has to live with an upside-down pectoral from now on."
"WHAT?!" Arkash called in a burst of panic.
"I'm kidding," Raphael returned. "Just peel it back off and stick it back on," he spoke with a slight smile and a shake of his head. As Arkash began to peel away the miss-attached skin, Raphael sighed. "Well, it won't take too long for you to manage what you want to do, in terms of learning. All the things you need are accessible pretty early on in the craft... But it'll take a lot of knowledge in biology and anatomy for you to put them all back together," Raphael explained.
Arkash frowned, he'd suspected such would be the case. Even so, he focused his works on the re-application of the pectoral skin, made sure it was on the right way, and began to staple the corners again, and sighed as he shaped the skin flush to the muscle. "...I don't suppose you'll teach me about that, will you?" he asked, hopeful. It was unlikely considering he'd given Raphael a hard time from the beginning; why would the doctor help him?
"Well, it's not in our contract," Raphael returned, and Arkash felt as his heart sunk. "...But," he continued, and Arkash perked up. "After we've exchanged marks, I'll be willing to go there with you to see if I can help out, teach you more on the job," he offered with an extension of his hand.
Arkash stopped right there and lifted his gaze to the human. Raphael couldn’t be serious, could he? It was very much unlike him to offer help, especially if he had nothing to gain in return. What had come over him? But then, he hadn’t seen such a grim expression on him before either. The mention of the necromancer’s superweapon seemed to have him afraid as if there was something deeply unsettling about the idea that someone was trying to create such a thing.
Did he know who the Necromancer was?
“Are you kidding?” Arkash asked, serious in the glare of his eyes. “You’ll help me? Really?”
Raphael nodded solemnly, then lifted his own gaze to match the Rathor’s. “I will,” he declared, without so much as the remnant of a smile in the corner of his mouth.
“Why?” The Rath returned with a furrow of his brow, directly confronting the mage despite the futility of past attempts. “Why would you offer to help me?” He started, squaring up fully as he pressed the handle of the scalpel to the table with splayed fingers. “We’ve been at each other’s throats since I got here, what do you have to gain?”
Raphael cast his gaze to the body on the table, stared for a long moment, then shook his head. “Is it that obvious?” He asked with a lift of his head. Arkash crossed his arms, waiting for the answer he wanted to hear. “…I’ve heard of the works you’re describing; the product of a powerful Necromantress who supposedly achieved immortality…”
Arkash furrowed his brow. “…Her name?” He did his best to contain his excitement. He’d actually Caught Raphael out in the Candor! That one moment of fear in his eyes at the mention of her works left the noble frozen, and Arkash’s perception rewarded him with information on his target.
“…I wish not to say,” he returned.
Arkash dropped his shoulders, exhaling the gratification in his lungs. “Why?”
“She’s an idol of mine… I too aspire to become immortal,” he confessed.
“…So why offer to help me?” Arkash interjected. Something didn’t add up.
“Well, as much as it would pain me to tear apart her creation…” he paused when he caught the Rath’s burning glare, then cleared his throat. “…Well, I mostly want to see her work, but undoing it might give me some insight as to how she managed such a feat,” he confessed, and Arkash rolled his eyes. “I think that if I get to see the way in which she works Necromancy, I might see more into how she’s managed all that she’s accomplished thus far…” The noble continued, Arkash shook his head.
“….So you’re just helping me for your own gain?” the Rath clarified.
“And for yours,” Raphael added. “It would take you several years to undo a project of that magnitude… Did you say fifteen people? Stuck together? I can get them all back in their individual pieces without issue in a season, maybe less… And all I want is to inspect the Golem. Is that so wrong?”
An exhale escaped the aspiring Necromancer, and he let his hands lean upon the table. “Alright, fine…” he agreed. “But I don’t owe you anything, alright? You’re doing this for you,” Arkash spoke firmly as he recollected the Tongs, and resumed work on the soldier’s pectoral.
“Never…” Raphael returned with a hidden smile.
"Oh, that thing," Raphael continued in regard to the sheet of skin he'd cut from the cadaver across the room. "To hold it in place, just press the button beneath the switch. That will... Nail it in place while you manipulate the rest," he explained while Arkash held the Embalmer's Tongs steady.
A flick of his tongue and the furrow of his brow saw him hold the fresh skin over the wound he'd created, then pressed the indicated button with a resounding crunch of a click, akin to some artificing tool he'd witnessed in Lorien. The spot was indeed nailed to the sedated soldier's body, and Arkash took the liberty of seizing the far end to pull the sheet fully across the man, without strain, and without air pockets.
"Anyway, as you were saying?" Raphael continued in the low lamplight of the necromancer's laboratory. It was fairly obvious to the Rath just what the mage was after, but there was also the side of him that believed Raphael was trying to help. After all, neither of them really wanted to be with one another for however long it would take him to master Necromancy, so why didn't he just explain the specific task he had in mind?
But the fact that Raphael had dismissed Arkash's mentorship, even the wellbeing of the man he was operating on, in favor of the knowledge he offered. Wasn't that suspicious? But really, what could Raphael do with what he was about to share? As Arkash nailed the far corner of the sheet of skin with a click of the button, he nodded. "The people I want to heal..." Arkash began as he took another corner of skin, "are... Sorta stuck together," he began to explain.
Silence came from the Human as Arkash nailed the next corner, followed by an intrigued "what do you mean?"
Arkash took one edge of the skin sheet, and carefully began to mold it over with his fingers, pressing the skin to be flush with the muscle and squeezing out any air bubbles. "...Like, someone stuck them all together, fifteen different people in one giant... Golem... Sort of thing," he explained, then looked up to ask "how's this?" In reference to the skin. Raphael held an expression he hadn't seen on the man before, that of wide eyes, uncertainty, even fear. hell, he could smell the fear on the man, feel the quickened beat of his heart. "Raphael..?" He asked again.
Recognition flashed in the human's eyes, and Arkash released the Tongs. "...yes, that's fine," he declared, but his eyes didn't remain on the skin for long. His gaze was swiftly upon the Rathor again. "Flesh golems?" Raphael asked. "Where?"
"A remote village in Tyrclaid," he explained. "There's a few of them, like a trail... Some of them are worse than others, like someone's experimenting, trying to make-"
"A superweapon," Raphael finished his sentence, "someone's trying to make a superweapon... And you want Necromancy so that you can fix them, right?"
A nod followed the human's question. "Well, yes... But the people in the golem are ...Well, they're important to me," he began to explain and set the Tongs down. "...All the clues I've found so far show that the mage who did it is from here, from Daravin. When I find them, I'm going to kill them," Arkash smiled toward the human, who offered a supportive grin.
"That's admirable... You know, after doing my research on you, I didn't think you'd ever care about helping some animals so far from home. What of your revolution?" The human leaned in to get a better eye of the work Araksh was doing, then nodded. "Looks good, you can nail the last corner now," he spoke with a motion of his head.
At once, Arkash recollected the Tongs, and seized the last corner as instructed. With the ether the tool commanded coursing through the skin, Arkash set the last stretch with his fingers, then stapled the stretch of skin in place with a press of the button. As the click sounded, the stretch of skin became stuck in place, allowing the Rath to continue his work. "...It's on hold for now," he spoke with some degree of uncertainty. Fayeth had told him directly not to go galavanting through the Omen-crazed streets of Daravin, but he couldn't leave them like that after everything they'd done for him.
"...On hold?" Raphael asked with a scratch of his chin. "Interesting..."
Arkash lifted a hand and waved. "Well not totally, my friend is looking after everything while I'm away," Fayeth and Asmodei had everything covered, he imagined. It was hard to say though, he wasn't in contact with them. A glance down at the stapled skin roused recognition in Arkash's eyes, and he lifted his gaze back to the Doctor. "...Now do I just fill in the gaps with Sinew Foam?"
"Right," Raphael nodded. "You might want to trim the excess first, though," he spoke with a motion of his head. A nod from the Rath followed the gesture, and Arkash went about trimming the excess skin with the scalpel... Then he paused. The Necrodoctor raised a brow. "...What is it?"
Arkash furrowed his brow; he didn't know much about human anatomy, but something seemed off about the pectoral he was working on. "...Is his uh... The nipple, is it supposed to be that close to the armpit?" he stepped back as Raphael leaned forward, rose both brows, then sighed.
"No, it's not," the mage started, disappointment in his tone. "You put it on back the wrong way around," the noble returned with a shake of his head. "I guess he has to live with an upside-down pectoral from now on."
"WHAT?!" Arkash called in a burst of panic.
"I'm kidding," Raphael returned. "Just peel it back off and stick it back on," he spoke with a slight smile and a shake of his head. As Arkash began to peel away the miss-attached skin, Raphael sighed. "Well, it won't take too long for you to manage what you want to do, in terms of learning. All the things you need are accessible pretty early on in the craft... But it'll take a lot of knowledge in biology and anatomy for you to put them all back together," Raphael explained.
Arkash frowned, he'd suspected such would be the case. Even so, he focused his works on the re-application of the pectoral skin, made sure it was on the right way, and began to staple the corners again, and sighed as he shaped the skin flush to the muscle. "...I don't suppose you'll teach me about that, will you?" he asked, hopeful. It was unlikely considering he'd given Raphael a hard time from the beginning; why would the doctor help him?
"Well, it's not in our contract," Raphael returned, and Arkash felt as his heart sunk. "...But," he continued, and Arkash perked up. "After we've exchanged marks, I'll be willing to go there with you to see if I can help out, teach you more on the job," he offered with an extension of his hand.
Arkash stopped right there and lifted his gaze to the human. Raphael couldn’t be serious, could he? It was very much unlike him to offer help, especially if he had nothing to gain in return. What had come over him? But then, he hadn’t seen such a grim expression on him before either. The mention of the necromancer’s superweapon seemed to have him afraid as if there was something deeply unsettling about the idea that someone was trying to create such a thing.
Did he know who the Necromancer was?
“Are you kidding?” Arkash asked, serious in the glare of his eyes. “You’ll help me? Really?”
Raphael nodded solemnly, then lifted his own gaze to match the Rathor’s. “I will,” he declared, without so much as the remnant of a smile in the corner of his mouth.
“Why?” The Rath returned with a furrow of his brow, directly confronting the mage despite the futility of past attempts. “Why would you offer to help me?” He started, squaring up fully as he pressed the handle of the scalpel to the table with splayed fingers. “We’ve been at each other’s throats since I got here, what do you have to gain?”
Raphael cast his gaze to the body on the table, stared for a long moment, then shook his head. “Is it that obvious?” He asked with a lift of his head. Arkash crossed his arms, waiting for the answer he wanted to hear. “…I’ve heard of the works you’re describing; the product of a powerful Necromantress who supposedly achieved immortality…”
Arkash furrowed his brow. “…Her name?” He did his best to contain his excitement. He’d actually Caught Raphael out in the Candor! That one moment of fear in his eyes at the mention of her works left the noble frozen, and Arkash’s perception rewarded him with information on his target.
“…I wish not to say,” he returned.
Arkash dropped his shoulders, exhaling the gratification in his lungs. “Why?”
“She’s an idol of mine… I too aspire to become immortal,” he confessed.
“…So why offer to help me?” Arkash interjected. Something didn’t add up.
“Well, as much as it would pain me to tear apart her creation…” he paused when he caught the Rath’s burning glare, then cleared his throat. “…Well, I mostly want to see her work, but undoing it might give me some insight as to how she managed such a feat,” he confessed, and Arkash rolled his eyes. “I think that if I get to see the way in which she works Necromancy, I might see more into how she’s managed all that she’s accomplished thus far…” The noble continued, Arkash shook his head.
“….So you’re just helping me for your own gain?” the Rath clarified.
“And for yours,” Raphael added. “It would take you several years to undo a project of that magnitude… Did you say fifteen people? Stuck together? I can get them all back in their individual pieces without issue in a season, maybe less… And all I want is to inspect the Golem. Is that so wrong?”
An exhale escaped the aspiring Necromancer, and he let his hands lean upon the table. “Alright, fine…” he agreed. “But I don’t owe you anything, alright? You’re doing this for you,” Arkash spoke firmly as he recollected the Tongs, and resumed work on the soldier’s pectoral.
“Never…” Raphael returned with a hidden smile.
