It had already been dawn when ravagers gaze at the ghastly puppet that the shaman had stitched; fearing, yet admiring the crafts of Zoirat. A ghastly creature, a humanoid-totem shaped made out of stitched-tendril limbs ranging from its head to its feet; its face, patched out of many faces allowing it for 360 degree vision. Villi like structures at the end of its body, allowing it to move with eerie precision, capable of re-arranging its own limbs to perform multiple tasks and acts as storage for flesh and blood.
"Lovely isn't it?" The sound emits from the beast, "This is the shaman speaking, I will use my newly-found arts for communication."
The raiders stare in awe of the innovation created by the minds of cruelty, a sense of relief wash over them as they believe the tribe will thrive from the new heir. Shortly after, they depart from the village to their settlements with a report to be proud of. Galloping through the snow, some look back to the totem, consistent with the goats without perceptible movement, and the shaman's fingers constantly curling unsettlingly fast. Nearing the mountain slopes, commotion from the refuge gets closer every step. Nearing the entrance gates, a crowd swarms upon mounted men, cloaked in red coats with white crosses embedded within, relief sets in on the returning warriors when they see mountain goats dyed in white.
"The blood emissary?" Zoirat thought in her mind, "What could they have brought that would cause a commotion?"
She brushes by her regime, investigating the problem. Followers make way at the glimpse of her, witnessing the totem of flesh following behind. Instead of a bountiful deposit, instead, she was met with bruised and injured soldiers, parts of their flesh dried out from frostbite. The leading commander notices the lead shaman. Before he could order his men to bow, "Halt." The totem speaks again, "Your men are not fit for orders, dismiss them at the inn.". "Oh Ancestor's Voice, I come to report of," The commander bows anyway, "An invasion on settlement Lung of Vrekat tribe.". Voices ring from the crowd, Lung of Vrekat tribe was the stockpile of the whole body, Mine shafts and workshops were established there, the whole body's source of supply was invaded.
"We were intercepted in the middle of our passage here, i believe they are somewhere in the pathways between gallbladder and liver." The man in command looks down, " I accept the fate of my actions, to be revoked from my body privileges." He offers his head.
"Don't be selfish, your duties are not done yet." He exhales from the mercy, " I'll kill you after you lead me to the invaders.
Hesitantly, he had already proposed his expulsion, "Follow me, Mother of the tribe." He mounts his last.
Galloping down the slopes as she follows his lead, arrows tipped with frost begin to appear on further roads, occasional blood splatters from injury, it was not long until they stumbled upon the bodies of Vrekat soldiers. "This was where they ambushed us... We were rained from the trees." They continued further, eventually arriving at a mountainside valley, wagons of charcoal deposits ignited, crop farms harvested into the enemy's carts. "That's them..." The supposed man in command's voice trembles...
A battalion of elven forces, estimation of 300 men in total. They mostly wield spears, some are equipped with twinblades, there are archers assigned on the top of the houses. Zoirat faces to the commander, with his duty fulfilled, she arms her dagger.
"W-wait! I don't want to d-" Swiftly throbbing her dagger into his throat, having her totem absorb the remains before vanishing into the woods.
"Its time to test the strength of my new puppet." She planned as she had the pile of corpse screech outwards, emerging from the wood , staggering the elves into their attention. Squelches of blood constantly pour from segments of the cylindrical totem, split into 4 sections from the head, torso, lower body, and the villi. A total of 6 faces attached to the head while limbs hang from all sides of the torso to the lower body. Zoirat hiding in the trees, needs to be wary of the distance between her and the puppet. Infantry began to raise their spears amongst the monolith of flesh. Bow and arrows charge up, ready to challenge an unwavering foe. The totem roared once again, a gaping hole opened in the totem, flinging limbs of the bodies. "Spritz" The faces of the totem speak in unison, splitting each fiber of muscle and cell of the body, spraying blood under the feet of the enemy, before they could evade. "Hemorrhage" The blood burst up, instead of cutting open wounds or physical damage, blood tipped with poison from the ceremonial dagger were splashed into their eyes, their open wounds, with my controlled blood inside theirs, I'll be able to contort them too.