>>5214142>>5214077>>5213823>>5213786When you explain your purpose for coming here, and they realize that you are THAT Degenerate, the Fleshweavers’ flustered outrage diminishes.
“To mend the heir to the Great Dragon Dragon?” their apparent leader murmurs. It is apparent from his tone that he deems it a worthy cause.
“I have begun some… tentative experimentation to this end,” you proffer. “Using a human agent, bound to my will, I have learned much of how the Dragonborn—this Great One—was created, and how we might go about mending it.”
His draws scoffs and hisses of ridicule.
“A human? What human agent cold have any use to us?”
“She is a fleshweaver fo sorts herself,” you note.
“A human FEMALE, no elss? And claiming to be a fleshweaver? By what right?!”
“Well, they sue a different term,” you say patiently—as patiently as you can manage. “As to her qualifications, she did MAKE the Dragonborn, in her mage-facility, in the human city which was assigned to Infiltrate.”
This draws an awkward, confused silence as they process the information.
“What has this ape suggested?” another Fleshweaver asks, though with a concerted effort to appear as if he is merely humouring you rather than taking genuine interest.
You relate what Henzler ahs taught you—from her rambling impromptu lectures, her answers to your actual questions, and your experiments together. The Fleshweavers are all horrified as you recount the creation of your ‘False Degenerate’—you knew they would be—but they fall silent when you explain the genesis of that experiment:
“It was an attempt to learn how to extend youth—the reversal of senescence, and the preservation of vigor. This could…” You pause, lapsing into guesswork that is honestly beyond your ken. “It could be sued to reverse some of the deterioration of the Great One’s body, in tandem with magic meant to restore or regrow his removed wings, and his misshapen arm.”
“Could it?” one of the Fleshweavers mocks. “How should you know?!”
You don’t, and you avert your eyes downwards. A part of you sort of hoped that the False Degenerate would be central to their work on the true project of the Dragonborn’s repair—that, in mending the heir of the Great Green Dragon, they might unlock secrets to alleviate the prejudice which has surrounded you since your (not as glorious as you’d hoped) return.
However, it is then that another one of the Fleshweavers placed a hand upon the robes of the one who chastised you.
“This work is beyond healing, beyond the creation of Amulets of Disguise…” he says, loathe to admit it. After all, these ideas came from a HUMAN, of all things, transmitted… Well, by YOU, a Degenerate halfbreed. “We… Should investigate them, for the sake of serving The Grand Design however we can.”
Finally! Someone sensible. You look up with eyes and heart full of gratitude…