The grand artisan. The mistress of remaking. She toils in the darkness, shaping flesh and bone, forging a new world in her divine image.
Both mother and maker, the Fleshsmith lurks within her subterranean surgical theater, where the air is thick with the scent of blood and alchemical ichor. A twisted artist, she grafts together the nightmares that serve her, sculpting new forms from the torn remnants of the fallen. Her pursuit of perfection is relentless, leaving behind a wake of torment and death fit only for the most ruthless of warlords.
Those unfortunate enough to be dragged into her domain are unmade, their limbs and organs repurposed to birth the next generation of her Remade. Yet, in her own grotesque way, she is a loving mother - mourning each lost creation, only to rejoice in the chance to breathe new, twisted life into them once more.
