Flesh Renders
Flesh Renders

Flesh Renders

The Flesh Renders of Ash

Now here’s a mob you don’t want to cross paths with—unless you’re into the whole being-torn-to-shreds-and-devoured thing. ‘The Flesh Renders’ is the name given by the ash genasi to the ghouls and ghasts that wander the ash wastes. Think of them like a roving gang of street thugs, if street thugs were starvin’ undead with a penchant for, well, rendin’ flesh.

Aye, they’re ghasts and ghouls, but not your garden-variety, lemme tell ya. Most of that lot are as savage as a hungry razorvine—sharp, relentless, and they won’t stop till they’ve got what they’re after. ‘Course, what they’re after is usually yer innards, so there’s that.

Now, I’ve heard the same whispers you probably have—that they might’ve been Vecna’s minions back in the day. Makes sense, given their utterly foul disposition and unsavoury dining habits. If they were part of the ol’ lich’s crew, that’d explain a lot. Vecna’s not known for his team-building exercises, if y’know what I mean. Probably kicked them out of Citadel Cavitius when he was done with ’em, like they were scraps to be tossed for the crows.

These Flesh Renders have adapted to the harshness of Ash, which says somethin’, considerin’ how even the dead have it rough here. I reckon the scarcity of, err, “food” makes ’em even more dangerous. They’re most common near the borderlands of Ash and the Nothing, in Empty Winter especially, but recently there have been flesh render raids in the Wasting Places, Sparkling Vast and even Core Ash itself.

I wouldn’t go pokin’ around their territory unless you’ve got a death wish, or maybe a deep philosophical point to prove about the cycle of undeath. Best way to deal with ’em? Keep a good distance and have a heap of holy water handy. Or just don’t be tasty. Unfortunately, for most bashers, that’s a tall order.

So, heed me well, berk: if you’re wanderin’ about Ash and you smell somethin’ worse than a fiend’s armpit, turn tail. ‘Cause it means the Flesh Renders are nearby. Guarantee they’ve got one thing on their undead minds—and it’s picking your brains.

Source: Jon Winter-Holt

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