4.07 Rebirth Of A Scoundrel

It was dark as a crypt. In a vat of yellow-green mucus a large bubble of air rocketed to the surface and exploded trailing flecks of slime across the mage's lab. As if bidden, a pale-skinned figure, his barely clothed body slick with sweat in the oppressive heat of the lair, approached to wait silently. His dull red eyes scanned the vat for signs of his employer's emergence. He didn't need to wait long. The claws of a bear broke the surface of the pool and rapidly receded into burly, yet manicured, human hands. The ousted aristocrat hoisted himself out of the slime and collapsed naked in a puddle of ooze against the dirty tile floor.

"The cloning process has worked" the albino mage hissed, "You will feel weak for a time but now you should possess much greater control of your shapeshifting."

Lundune was racked by a string of coughing fits, hacking up heavy clots of mucus from his new lungs, after several attempts he managed to respond to his savior, "Well done Dubral. What of the modifications we discussed?"

"Your demise came more swiftly than we had discussed" the mage purred, with a deadly pleasant tone.

"So your work isn't complete yet?"

"No, I didn't make the mistake of underestimating your adversaries, I worked quickly to spare you the agony of of having the additions stitched to your body while your soul resides in it"

"Then what's your concern if we're ahead of schedule?" Lundune inquired warily.

"No concern of mine, merely that my fee is now triple what we discussed" Dubral replied grinning like a fiend.

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