Amora rose to his feet. He groans in pain as he does so, then looks around the sand dune. "Where is that damnable necromancer..." he mutters, limping toward the oasis. He saw figures there. Perhaps the necromancers were among them.
Harrad was at the oasis, wetting his hands and splashing water in his face, enjoying the coolness of the water on his skin as he rubbed the water in, seeing his apprentice stare at him he let one of his eyebrows rise questioningly. "Something the matter young Naream? You look rather disturbed." Naream pointed and Harrad looked down at the hands he had been using to splash water in his face, one was his own arm and hand, the other was the rather stiff one of the surgeon Amora. "Oh, that?" He laughed and extended the arm, "Need a hand Naream?" Harrad Let out another laugh at the obvious distaste of his apprentice, he was still young compared to him, he'd grow and get used to it... assuming Harrad didn't have to kill him for something or another.
Scratching his chin with the arm he turned and looked at the owner approaching. "Ah! Good master surgeon is it? Are you quite rested for the procedure?"
Amora sighs in annoyance, nodding his head slowly. He still looked pale from blood loss and physically he felt like he was made out of piano strings. Tense and frustrated and ready to snap at any moment. "Just give me usage of my arm back." He states plainly. "And maybe, just maybe, when I inevitable have fix you, I'll do it right."
Harrad chuckled and pulled a arm casually on Amora's shoulders, one of his own this time, and turned the human around. "Naream, follow boy." He called over his shoulder as they headed to where Harrad had already put up his tent, well were he had Naream and Shade already put up his tent. "I can most certainly give you use of your arm back, still are you sure you want this arm? I have some very fine speciments with claws, talons, even ones where there are various knives and other instruments attached instead of fingers. The thumb on that one is actually a flute, the fellow I took it from could play the most beautiful tunes... his screams were a bit nicer, I actually have his spirit sealed somewhere, wonder if his screams are still wonderful. Are you interested in screams good man?" He asked Amora, genuine curiousity of what he would answer with.
"Screams just tell me that I'm doing my job correctly." He states as his answer. "And that they are still alive." He adds quickly as he pokes his head inside the tent. Some of the things here he recognized, other things he did not. This necromancer seemed to be a collector of sorts, though, he didn't see a pile of limbs anywhere. The comment must have been made in jest. "I will simply take the arm which I know will do what I require of it..." He states as he turns and faces the necromancers. "...And that would be my arm."
Harrad made a click-clacking noise that almost sounded as if he was disappointed, "Such a shame really, but the patient is always the king, or was that customer? I have forgotten, please sit down." Harrad said with a flourish and with some mumbled words as a series of bones suddenly moved and started to form a operating table of sorts while Naream pulled a piece of cloth over it.
Harrad was already preparing something else, humming quietly to himself as he went to work, "I... well borrowed some herbs from that lvoely elf woman, don't tell her please, or those assassins... or should I say demons, she associates with, I suspect they might take offense. Hmm, stir three times coutner-clockwise was it?" He murmured as he added some water and started stirring, with Amora's arm. "Yes, yes, that's it." He turned around and handed Amora a cup. "Here, drink please and lie down, should help you relax and make my job all the easier." Harrad's eyes had been filled with mirth the entire time he had talked before but now he was dead serious.
Amora takes the cup up to his lips, then sniffs it. He wrinkles his nose and lowers the cup for a moment, glaring in an icy manner at Harrad. "I am a doctor, not a fool. These drugs will knock me out cold." He eyes the contents of the glass momentarily. "Do please keep me alive. I have... Things to attend to." He places the glass down on the makeshift operating table, then takes his bag and unslings it from his shoulder, placing it upon the ground beside the table. "alas." He remarks with a sigh, sitting upon the table and grabbing the drink once again.
"Off to see her again, I go." He states with a hint of long term sorrow in his voice before drinking the contents of the cup, laying down upon the table and fading off into slumber.
Harrad cleaned the dirt, well sand, from under his finger nails, and then moved to do the same with Amora's severed arm before he prodded Amora and then for good measure slapped his cheek with his own arm, breaking off the little finger, cursing Harrad went looking for it and picked it up, muttering, 'I can fix that' as he did, but at least he was sure the good surgeon was definitely out cold. He turned to his apprentice who looked expectingly at him, Harrad snorted, recognising the look in his apprentice's eyes. "Not a chance Naream, go outside, make sure nobody enters this tent while I work." Naream looked as if he might protest but a glare of his master send him scurrying out the tent to guard, along with Shade.
Nodding to himself again Harrad reached at his neck and produced a necklace with a rather odd heirloom, twisting a dial in the center of it in a certain pattern and then let go and closed his eyes while he palced a hand on the chest of Amora. There was a sudden flash before his closed eyes and when he opened them, he, the table and the unconscious Amora were still there, but everything else had changed.
There were dark walls made otu of black brickes on which were glowing runes which hurt to look at and green ghostlights provided the only ilumination, bathing the room with a macaber sheen of light, near him stood a table of sorts with all sorts of instruments. He snapped his fingers and a section of a nearby wall slid away, revealing a new room from which came a stink of decay. Wrinkling his nose Harrad whistled and two figures emerged, they were quite gruesome, rotting flesh and exposed bone as the ghoulish servants answered the bidding of their master. "Clean the wound, sterilise it, and nothing more! No snacking!" He said with a note of warning and the creature moaned and quivered in fear.
While the ghoulish servants went to work on Amora, harrad placed the arm, including the severed finger, on a nearby table. He looked wistfully at a rack which held some other arms, hands and other body parts.
But shook his head and started to mutter a incation as he swept his hand over Amora's arm, flesh starting to rot and peel off as he did so. Till nothing but bones remained and he nodded, "Good, now the real work begins..." He said with a smile as he reached for a inkwell.
Amora stirs to life, opening his eyes a little as he does so and spotting the strange chamber he was in. It was dark, and dim, and his clouded mind was having a hard time keeping things straight. Why was he here?... Ah, yes. "Your potion... Is made of... Diluted crap..." Amora chuckles bitterly, coughing in an almost sickly fashion.
A rotting ghoul face appears in Amora's vision, letting out a low moan, reaching with a cadaverous hand for the lying doctor before it was slapped away in a irritated fashion. "No, no snacking I said! You have done your job, go and have lunch in the storage." Harrad said and waved them away and turned to his 'patient'. "Hmm... so I see... next time I double or triple the dosage." Harrad looks distracted, humming to himself still. "Actually good thing you are awake, or at least somewhat awake... do you feel... this." He said and then pushed a brand on the wound where the arm was severed, burning a ritual mark on the wound.
Amora screams in pain, reaching over with his good arm grabbing the handle of the brand, throwing it away. A few droplets of blood escape from the wound that almost made him convulse in pain, his eyes watering. "YOU ARE INSANE!" Amora yells, laying back down with the occasional twitch of pain. "Get this over with or the next ghoul that I see in front of me will be losing his head!"
"Tut, tut, how rude of you." Harrad said, sounding almost dissapointed, "This is all necessary to make sure you will have a functional arm... or do you want a appendage that just flips around when you move?" He shook his head and retrieved the brand, grunting when he noticed it was bend. "Have to fix that..." He reached for a inkwell and dabbed his finger in it, pulling it out covered in blood and not ink and started to dab more sigils and ritualistic marks on and around the wound. "Just applying the required marks to make sure the rest of your flesh does not die off when I attach the arm, some people like to become a undead abomination but somehow I doubt you are one of them." He muttered and then nodded in satisfaction at the marks. "Right... this might hurt... so back to sleep..." He pinched Amora's nose, making him gasp to open his mouth and poured down another herbal mix and forcing him to swallow and waited till once again the surgeon was once again asleep. "Now for the real work..."
It was some time later and Harrad looked up as Amora stirred, "Ah welcome back among the living... no pun intended." They were back in Harrad's tent near the oasis and Harrad himself was busy with a tome of some kind. "This is a first for me you know." Harrad started and smirked, "Operation successful and patient survived, usually my patients... are not there to be healed at my touch." He nodded at the re-attached limb... the skeletal arm which was scribbled in black runes and sigils to keep the bones attached to each other. "Try moving it if you would, perhaps by grabbing this gift." He showed what he was holding, a tome. "One of my spare summoning tomes, the pages are blank and I gathered you need a new one."
Amora lays there momentarily, looking at his skeletal arm with a vacant look in his eyes. Then, it occurred to him. His wife would probably be rather upset with him at this turn of events. He lowers his eyes from his arm, closing them and taking a deep breath. This would take some getting used to. He exhales slowly, then sits up. He looks at Harrad, then at the summoning tome, which he gingerly grabs with his skeletal arm. "...Admittedly, not what I expected." He remarked, both about his arm and about Harrad's behaviour. "I do not know what to make of you, friend or foe or mere curiousity."
Harrad shrugged and smiled, showing a row of perfect white teeth. "Friends can be foes in disguise and foes can one day become friend. Perhaps it is best to just call me eccentric." He said while watching Amora.
He slips off the bone table, flipping through the pages of the summoning tome quickly to be sure that it was as empty as Harrad said it was. "Is there anything else you require? Any other strange acts of charity you wish to give?" He asks as he hefts his bag up from the floor. It had collected a little dust. They must have been here for at least a half dozen hours.
"Charity you say? If you look at it like that, well who am I to dispute it. There are many things that could be said of me or my kind herr doctor... charity is not one of them I am just in a good mood I suppose." Harrad laughed and washed his hands in a bowl of water, rising his hand and watching the droplets. "We all have our secrets and we all have our intentions that are either good, bad or both. I just want to make sure that I get what I am promised... restoring your arm and giving you a spare summoning tome might help me with that, it might not. Time will tell."
"Hmph. We will see." Amora mutters as he leaves his tent. He glances around at the sky, noticing Kouri's fire signal he yells back into the tent. "Kouri is getting everyone to move out! Pack up and go!" He states once, and only once. Summoning tome under his arm he leaves and starts out towards the source of the flame in the sky himself. He had no desire to remain near Harrad.
Harrad walked out of the tent and looked at the signal, muttering. "How lovely, a big sign in the sky broadcasting to any desert nomads, bandits and barbarians that we are here." He turned to Naream and Shade who had been waiting outside. "Pack up the tent and everything else, I will already make my way to the origin of the signal." With that Harrad ignored any reply his apprentice might make and went off to his riding lizard, he had a apprentice and undead servant to do the menial labor for him after all.