The Flesh has 4 different parts in every rank with a shared health bar. The warrens had become a landfill of snout and hoof, gristle and bone - a mountainous, twitching mass of misshapen flesh, fusing itself together in the darkness.
The spasmodically squirming, braying, and snorting half-corpses were heaped each upon the other, until at last I was rid of them. When excavations beneath the manor broke through into an ancient network of aqueducts and tunnels, I knew I had found a solution to the problem of disposal.
I could not store such a prodigious amount of offal, nor could I rid myself of it easily, possessed as it was by unnameable things from outer spheres.
Progress was halting, and the rapidly accumulating surplus of wasted flesh had become burdensome. My zeal for blood rituals and summoning rites had begun to ebb, as each attempt invariably brought only failure and disappointment.
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