49th of Ash, 120 AS
A jar of dark red blood sat on the workbench before Lyra. She eyed it critically for a time, turning the container this way and that as she peered through the substance. It wasn't ideal. She would have preferred to have elven blood or even human. The blood of a monster, however, would work for the time being. Opening the jar Lyra took a bit of Ichor from the container that sat to her right, letting it fall into the blood and begin to dissolve. From a drawer, Lyra produced a wooden spoon, and with it, she began to mix the liquid using slow and even circles. Over the course of several minutes, the color of the blood lightened somewhat, becoming a deep crimson instead of the brownish-red it was previously. Setting the spoon aside Lyra took up her soul totem, dropping it into the container and sealing it before setting it on the shelf. It would take at least an hour before she could move to the next step, but in the meantime, she had another project she could work on.
Walking around the stone slab in the center of her lab Lyra eyed the selves of parts, pausing on the box of bones. She rummaged inside this one, eventually, her hands closing around one bone, in particular, that was long and thin. Examining it she realized it was a fibula, a bit longer and thicker than a typical elven bone, but the proportions and shape were nearly identical. Nodding to herself Lyra took this bone with her back to the workbench, setting it aside as she gathered a few more materials. The first was a small bottle of foggy liquid, which gave off a pungent smell of chemicals when she uncorked it. She poured a few drops of this liquid onto a cloth before recording the vial and setting it back on the shelf. She used the cloth to steadily clean the length of the bone, the substance a mild acid that helped to remove any lingering bits of flesh or tendon that might have remained. When she finished the bone was slightly whiter and was smooth to the touch. There were some pockmarks and odd intentions that normal human or elf bones did not have, but Lyra assumed they were points of attachment to different muscles that only the shambler possessed.
The next item she pulled down was another small vial, this one containing a salve that was slightly yellow in tint. The vial itself was covered in pictographs for preservation and sustainment. From another drawer, Lyra pulled out a pair of thin gloves. Putting these on she then took a small swab on a stick, dipping it into the salve before rubbing it onto the bone. The Salve was called Bone Molder, or Bone Salve. It was a unique product of necromancy made from ichor, blood, and bone shavings. When applied to bone it made the bone more pliable, closer to the wood in many ways. The effects were temporary though, and most often used to help reshape or remove parts of damaged bone structure. In Lyra's case, however, it served a different purpose.
Once the bone was coated she closed the vial, returning it to its place and taking up a short carving knife. This was an instrument Lyra had created recently. It was a simple knife, inscribed with the pictographs for reshaping, clean cuts, and improving the efficiency of the edge's sharpness. It was specifically designed for carving bone, and the glyphs glimmered slightly as she brought it close to the fibula on the workbench. Being careful to only touch the bone with her gloved hand Lyra began to slowly carve the surface of the bone, using her hands and thumbs to straighten its length and narrow its smallest end into a point which she then carved sharper using the knife. She had to reapply the salve several times as the effects wore off. Eventually, she was left with a bone just a bit longer than her own forearm, one end shaped like a quill while the other was hollowed out and intended as if to hold something.
Nodding in satisfaction Lyra began the next process of adding a series of designs along the surface of the bone. She traded out the carving knife for a familiar carving hook. Closing her eyes Lyra breathed out, a tendril of smoke escaping her lips and twining down her arms to cover and collect around the bone itself. Her senses shifted then to the smoke, and she observed from her new perspective as she began to slowly carve down the entire length of the bone. She created a series of small pictographs, circles, and squares that appeared at intervals along the entire length. The pictographs were all variations of a similar topic. To draw, to write, to create, bring forth, inspire. Between these main concepts, Lyra began to make a flowing script that weaved and connected them together. Blood, infuse, become one, a part of. These she all connected together brought to the very tip of the sharpened edge where she made a circular design around the entire tip. This one she created with sharp lines that led to the very edge of the bone and two pictographs were added here. The first described a physical command. Harden, unbreaking, strong. She used these concepts to reinforce the tip of the quill so that it could last longer without needing to be replaced. The second, and most important, pictograph was drawn on the backside of the quill head. It simply read 'inject'. Moving up the bone Lyra spiraled the design all the way up to the socketed end. Each of the pathways she ended with a pictograph, a swirling gem surrounded by flowing mist. These pictographs she connected up the edges of the socket, drawing additional lines that lead back to the pictographs that looked similar to arrows. To pull out, or to draw.
The smoke trailed back up her arm, flowing into her mouth as she opened her eyes and blinked, looking down at the item. She nodded slowly and turned her attention back to the jar of blood which had now lightened further and shimmered slightly with a pale light. Leaning down Lyra pulled out a larger jar, several times bigger than the one that held her ichor, which was inscribed with glyphs of preservation. Then from another drawer, she pulled out another, larger container that was corked. This was also inscribed with preservation, but it also possessed another symbol, not the bottom of a snake with no eyes. It was this container Lyra began with. Standing she found a funnel from yet another drawer, placing it in the opening of the pyramid-like container before picking up the jar of newly created blood liquor and pouring more than half of it in. After sealing the jar of blood Lyra took several scoops of ichor and added it to the container, picking up the whole mixture and swirling it several times until ichor started to dissolve.
Standing and stretching Lyra removed her gloves, setting them on the workbench before stepping outside the white-walled lab, leaning out the door, and trapping a vial of infused ink from the shelf by the door before returning to the workbench. She poured the entire vial of ink into the blood and ichor mixture, swirling as she did until it all mixed together. She then corked the container and moved the white pedestal in the corner. Setting the blood and ink mixture on top the glyphs on both the container and pedestal glowed, and the liquid swirled slightly before settling.
Though she did not sweat Lyra felt the sudden urge to wipe her brow, but ignored the sensation with a chuckle. There were just a few more things left to do. From her shelf, she pulled down the jar of flesh scraps and went through the steps of cutting and prepping them before putting them into a bowl along with a few handfuls of herbs. She then poured a portion of the blood into the bowl and began to mash up the mixture with the pestle from the self. She then proceeded to pour this mixture into the prepared jar, repeating the process several times until the jar was completely filled. Finally, as the last step, Lyra took the soul totem from the now empty container of blood and dropped it into the jar containing the ichor ingredients. She then sealed this container and set it on the shelf, sighing to herself before putting it on the shelf to set overnight.
The rest would need to wait for the next day, Lyra mused as she began to clean up. It was a lot of work upfront, but she knew that all of her preparation would serve her well in the coming days.
