Snippet #2710356

Red followed along, listening to Alexia regale them with details regarding her home on the island upon the lake. He listened well but he definitely figured he'd be making little use of her provisions. He distrusted the water, not appreciating the prospect of possibly imbibing untested liquids with partially unknown effects. He could heal himself and was virtually immune to most diseases. Purging himself of poison's or venom was child's play as well.

Even the replenishing food was needless to his eye. If his hypothesis held true he'd have his source of nourishment under control in no time. As for entertainment he held little need to amuse himself with little distractions when there was research to be done.


For a while his eyes simply absentmindedly scanned the forest for anything of interest as he sat upon the boat they floated down the river on. Eventually however the scene of a battle came into view. A demolished tank and several dead laid askew with the sound of gun fire not too far off. That was just a side note, Red noticing the bodies right away. He was able to detect not only how many dead there were to a precise degree but he also could tell how long they've been dead by how fresh their blood is. He could taste it in the air from miles away and sense it from even further away.

With a gentle hop Red leapt a couple stories up, shortly falling back down a good distance from the river on the blood soaked earth. He walked among the bodies, examining the wreckage. The bodies themselves were fresh, rather uneaten for that matter. Whatever attacked them was not too interested in consuming the bodies currently that was for sure.

Not too far off there were footprints leading up the hill along the side of a small stream. There was blood spilt recently somewhere up the path. He didn't even need to use his blood sight to know where to find the remaining survivors.


He also didn't care. There were matters more relevant to his current interest, the bodies to be specific. He turned to the limp corpses and raised his hands towards them in a violent surging gesture. All the blood that was spilt ran up from the ground into the air, forming into a crimson ball just a few feet off the ground. Next up rose the flesh, peeling away from the bones of the bodies along with all the blood that remained within their freshly deceased meat.

With a short series of motions the flesh of those that died sheered into ribbons, macabre red strips wrought from the women of the eighth crusader order. He started to tie these strips together, forming a net of humanoid flesh strung together through his hemomancy. The blood from the orb he formed flowed along the muscle and skin tissue that the net consisted of, soaking into the tears and seams of the horrifically fleshy weave.

"Roboro."


He spoke his hemomantic spell, the blood infusing the flesh with the unholy power of the dark arts, strengthening it's material form. The net was now tough like steel yet flexible like rope. He estimated that it would be perfect for ensnaring one of these residential beasts. Looking upon his creation he almost overlooked the group moving ahead towards the hidden away crusaders. He quickly caught up, following along with his brand new gore-weave net in tow.