A character reference done by  Black_Chaos666 of Thirteen a mythic chimeric amalgamation based on a tabletop inspired story.

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Prologue-

Life is not a fickle thing, it's as tangible as you can make it. Though, sometimes, when you try to grasp it too tight, to make it too tangible, it slips through your fingers, it escapes, like fine sand. This is wholly one of those times. Like it or not, the ‘between a rock in a hard place’ scenario has encapsulated me entirely. Today I die, the last few grains of ‘sand’ are slipping away and I have little control over what happens next. So, either I die to disease, I die as a “unreliable or uninteresting assistant”, or I die in this experiment. At least the latest I have had a hand in manipulating. The risk is great, but the gains are greater, at best I hope to be free of this poison in my blood, however, the effects of this process will likely be extreme, I know what the doctor has prepared and it’s not a minor change, but, my conviction to survival is stronger. Before the trigger is pulled, the lever thrown, the switch flipped, there are some details I'm sure you would like to know. Who is this ‘doctor’? Who is speaking? What led to this ultimatum? Well, let's start simple I guess…

I am a kitsune, yea one those magical fox folk, don’t make that face, I’m used to the prejudices enough, anyway, we can shapeshift, use foxfire, etc. As you can assume, I’m not some special snowflake, people hate kitsune for our aloof nature and abilities, all of which usually ends up with me specifically catching distrustful glances and a general sense of distrust or just flat out ambiguous resentment for being different by the ‘normal’ folk. I learned early on it’s easier to blend in and play human than the alternative, also, it makes my job easier when you aren’t inherently distrusted because... well, because. In retrospect, this probably corroborates the distrust but, at this point, that’s not even remotely my concern. So, let’s just assume I'm human since I don't shift out of the form unless absolutely required. I consider myself a daggerspell; a stealthy, skilled, blade wielder, with a twist of arcana. Strong magic, subtle strikes, and a careful application of unique abilities overall, rounds out my resume.

Life in the Pathfinder Guild is pretty easy. Especially for “targeted removal of problematic individuals”, they commission you, give you a target, and generally ask for anonymity. Easy. There are the occasional dungeon dives or party quests but overall I prefer to go alone. It makes things easier, well, until you contract some incurable disease. Magic can only go so far apparently; divine, arcane, whatever disease I have, it’s part of me in a way that magic can no longer help. It’s been three years since the problems started, and if I were a commoner, I would likely be dead already.

Wealth carried me only so far, and after my money ran out, I got desperate... I started working outside of the pathfinders and my apt for being able to get where I should not, be unseen, and general cleverness have kept me alive until now. Today, I’ve found myself at the edge of sanity, working for this “mad” doctor, and trust me when I say that “mad” is a ‘very’ benign description. However, I am out of options, I’ve tried everything else I can fathom and this raving lunatic of a wizard is my last chance at survival as far as I can tell. I just hope that at the end of the day, I can walk away with the least being my mind intact, hopefully my mind uncompromised, and at best, nothing worse for wear.

Going further back, the last year or so has led me to dabble in some pretty dark and convoluted stuff at the doctor’s behest. I’ve seen others like me fall into his hands; other alchemists, mages, wizards, students, professors, you name it, but I’ve never seen them walk away. I don’t believe the doctor will allow me too either, not if it’s within his power, which seems immeasurable. It wasn’t until recently that I re-revealed my kitsune heritage, and since, he’s been quite… interested in me particularly, which has never boded well for those individuals. Funny how a minor detail suddenly means life or death. The doctor’s effective practice is a bit forceful by nature; try the experiment until it works… then, maybe, throw in some new variables here and there when they are convenient or interesting, mostly, otherwise try-fail-try again. This wouldn’t be so problematic if there weren't living creatures, sometimes people under the proverbial knife. It’s shaken my faith and sanity, but my conviction to survival is greater, what are these people to me, I will survive, I am stronger, I Will escape.

Two weeks ago before the last dregs of my capability wore thin, the doctor utilized me to capture what he called “the most exciting material ever”, a young phoenix. I dread what is in-store for the holy creature, but I already assume the worst. The conditions the normal “materials” are kept in is abhorrent, reinforced stone prisons surrounded by layers of anti-magical fields, left on the edge of life until the doctor finds time to “utilize them”. Personally, I know I don’t have much time left, the elixirs the doctor formulated to keep my symptoms in check have stopped being effective. In days I will likely be unable to walk, in a week even less, which means I have to escape now, though I know not how.

Two days ago with a bit of luck and the greatest test of my skills I have ever demonstrated, I found the doctor’s notes on the upcoming experiment. To my greatest dread, yet highest resolution, He had decided to use me in his upcoming experiment. He was still stuck on his amalgamation trend, trying to fuse multiple creatures into a “pinnacle of evolution” utilizing his alchemic and arcane arts. The past trials have yielded poor results, and by poor, I mean bloody chunks of smoking or disfigured remains completely unrecognizable from the source creatures, which has likely fueled the doctor’s recent admiration in the phoenix. So, knowing my fate, and a bit of insight of my own, I stole the most recent chimeric recipe and called in every favor I was owed from the cohorts I was afforded at my time working for Geroe. With the help of two of the highest ranked alchemists in the doctors team, No, I will not disclose their names, anyway, they gave me a recommendation. The eve of the event, I showed the doctor the recommendation with a shifter at the center of the amalgamation magic and he lost it. He’s been whispering to himself and cackling since, I was hoping for a reward in the form of further formulated medications to keep me alive at least until something more “effective” had been tested as far as the amalgamations were concerned, however, I already know that he has something else in mind.

The day of the event, last evening I found the doctor’s plan to utilize me at the center, likely his only shifter “material” on staff... and, to make matters worse, I was caught doing so. I suppose when I delivered the insight to utilize a shifter, he had likely already decided on me. I fear I have the worst idea of what was soon to be in-store for me. Mechanical golems strip me of my gear, firstly my weapons, Koruken my black blade, then my strand of magical pearls. As the constructs rip the clothing from my humanoid form, I can feel the resonance of Koruken, my black blade rippling in agitation, its voice ringing in my ears. It took everything in my power just to think of my own mortality and more so, my commitment, this would be my only way out. So to survive, here I was, strapped to this slab of stone, stripped of my weapons, pride and clothes…

The first preparations were started in the standard method. Mechanized golems drawing the dweomer lines, inscribing the runes and circles in sand deposited on the smooth floor. The sand varied in color and contained a slurry of precious and semi-precious materials. It sparkled between blue-green to bloody red, and wrapped around the room in winding circles and lines, checkered script in various arcane languages twined around them. Then, second, the golems brought in containers and vials of various stabilizing or enhancement materials. Dragon blood, demon horn, angel feathers, you name it, it’s likely somewhere around here, focusing some aspect or element. A large clear etched pylon of glasslike clear crystal quartz hung from the ceiling, it was the focus of the system, it channeled the aetheric energies and mana into and through the entire process. Several smaller quartz crystals were fixed in place, one to the north, three to the east, three to the west. ...The next few hours dragged on before; strapped as I was to the stone. When the golems finally finished the scripts, a disconcerting silence fell over the room, the rasp of my breath and pounding of my heart was a highlight to my fleeting mortality. Hours past, maybe days, could have been minutes, I had no sense of reference other than my own decaying state of mind and body. As such, I could only count as I drifted in and out of sleep twice.

I awoke to a building cacophony of noise, the squeaking of wheels, the growling and murmuring of beasts, and the building apprehensive dread that it was finally time. Torches lit the room all at once as the doctor escorted in the ‘materials’. My heart fluttered in both panic and weakness. Nausea crippled me, though I couldn’t tell if it was the panic or the symptoms of my condition that caused it.

“It is time to cure you” the doctor shouted gleefully as he magically bound the first creature to be wheeled past him, gesturing his hand up, whispering a few arcane words then, magically lifting a long black bodied snake-like serpent, coiled as it was into position over the first crystal. There was a canvas cover tied over its large spade shaped head, it’s long arm-length tongue darted out constantly. It was easily thrice as long as I was tall and with a flick of the doctor’s wrist, the crystal above the scaled creature glowed white hot and the snake hovered in place, locked in its prison by the spell, coiling defensively in restrained blindness.

“You see, you have solved the problem! Of course the hosting interpolation of organisms would create a feedback loop. But, a shifter would insulate that, they are fluid like water, your form can change” the doctor rambled excitedly.

“Hey doc, I don't suppose we could run this once before with another shifter before we try to cure me, huh?” I asked weakly. I knew it was futile to ask but hey, can't blame a fox for trying. He giggled moving the second creature, a large feline shape into place. It was easily twice the size of a large cat with a dark spotted pattern and several long appendages hanging from its head limply, almost like long whiskers; this creature looked sedated, that was interesting... Geroe generally preferred them “as lively as possible”. It must be some creature he would have issues controlling with brute force, my mind wandered and came up empty.

“No, no-no-no, you are being rewarded. This is it! It ‘must’ work this time, and you will be cured, and you...” he said, as the crystal over the second creature flared into light, locking the creature into place. He approached close before continuing, and dropped his voice to a whisper, “...you, don't have the time for delays.” He whisked away back to the door again, another feline shape, this one awkward and just as large as the second floated into place, its fur as dark as night; multiple limbs lashed about inside it’s undersized containment, tentacle like limbs folded back, fangs bared; it was a displacer. Any pathfinder knew this creature.

“You’re all mucked up inside, and for your trouble in catching it, and for solving my problem…” he moved the displacer-beast into its containment, it growled and roared spectacularly in protest the sound reverberating within the stone chamber. My ears rang in resistance as the third crystal flashed into brilliance. The fourth creature was wheeled in on a flat cart, no bars, completely incapacitated, but I didn't need to try and see. Brilliant orange and red feathers adorned the bird twice my size.

“...I shall cure you. The magic of the phoenix, the purity of it shall cleanse you!” He finished, lowering the phoenix over the last of the four circles, the crystal above it igniting in light respectively. It hovered listlessly appearing almost dead if not for the inaudible rise and fall of its chest. The doctor swirled out laughing maniacally. The next part is the part I dreaded most of all. After a few long minutes the center crystal flickered once, twice then started to slowly glow in light. Every time there was a muffled scream, some human, some not, the crystal would light further. This is where I assumed all those the doctor had determined “uninteresting” ended up, he was draining the life of others to fuel this machination. It would have made my fur stand on end, but I had to deal with goosebumps instead. An odd realization occurred to me, maybe it was better to be under the crystal than in it, and with apathy I smiled as the light grew within the crystal until it was as bright as the others, small arc’s of aetheric energy began leaping between the connections of the crystals as the stored mana reached critical levels.

The door slid shut and I knew it was time. The trigger was behind me, on the other side of a thick glass wall. The displacer growled again. I shut my eyes. Silence hung for a long moment but I knew what would happen, he would read the incantations, and trigger the process. Seconds later, with a crack of light and sound everything went black.

---

Start

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The doctor shook with fury.

<No. Everything was right, it had to be.> He smashed his left arm down in unbridled anguish and anger, telekinetic energy crushing the nearby golem like it was made of foil. The other side of the glass was a mess; blood and gore was everywhere, decorating the room and window with a fractal of death. A mass of flesh and bone in the middle twitched lifelessly, it had no discernible shape, yet was almost feral in appearance, but wings, tentacles, arms and legs all bent and connected oddly, flesh was warped in a gruesome arcane disaster. Other organic detritus was dispersed in a fashion having exploded from all four of the foci spread around the room. Sand, once ruby red was now black and smoked lightly adding an acrid acidic scent to the smell of the charred remains. The doctor stormed out defeated. Automatons immediately started the cleanup of the lab, starting with cleaving the larger bits of the bodies into manageable pieces and storing them in the refuse cart to be disposed of. Once full, the cart was wheeled away by two basic clay golems out of the facility and about a day away.

Large quantities of rotting flesh decorated the marsh here, supplied by the other failed experiments; this one was no different. The golems emptied the cart quickly unloading both large and small chunks of flesh one after the other, and once done, turned to return to the facility. After completing their task, the automatons made it five steps from the discarded remains when a fireball exploded, vaporizing the fragile clay golems, the wooden cart, and any other discarded refuse within a forty foot radius.

A sharp inhale and a gasping cough followed by a low growling groan which was exhaled by the now living and breathing reincarnation that existed in the stead of the miscellaneous parts that remained after the failed amalgamation process. Cracking his eyes open yielded a fuzzy and indistinct view of what was the smoldering blackened mud and horizon of dead trees and reedy growth of the swamp. The back of his eyes hurt, and a tingling phantom limb pain assaulted his senses as the visual world spun with vertigo. Everything was blurry and overly bright even with the sun hidden behind the clouds, he had to clasp his eyes shut in discomfort. The air smelled of smoke, cloying rot, musty mold, and stagnant water. Sound was indistinct and muffled, as if cotton was stuffed in his ears with a lingering ringing echoing in all directions. Odd weights and sensations that didn't make sense was the first feeling that was alerting. <What happened> He thought to himself. He reached backward to memories and produced nothing. No memory of what happened, reaching further yielded nothing before that, and further led to nothing before even that. A heavy stone of fear formed in his already unsteady gut with the realization of having no recollections about himself, yet, he could recall facts, details, general knowledge of things, the ability to define things… but nothing specific to himself. He had no name, no history, and his first feeling was fear.

Rolling over was an experience. <What is… wings?> he thought with confusion as the appendages rested awkwardly under his side as he tried to roll from his side onto his back and failed, giving up futilely. Lacking his primary senses, he relied on touch reaching up to his face yielded another mystery of sensations as things felt misplaced, but he couldn't remember why it didn't feel right or even define what ‘right’ was. He thought, <Catlike features, scales in places, long ears, whiskers, unnatural appendages at his shoulders beyond even the wings, a second set of arms?> None of this was normal. In the darkness of his squinted eyes, other blobs of nonsensical color impeded his vision. With frustration he ignored it and continued his inventory; working legs, cat-like claws, a tongue that was longer than normal and bifurcated, teeth that felt alien to his alien tongue. His eyes eventually came into focus, along with hearing and equilibrium. Standing was awkward at first, balance felt significantly different, he had to take several steadying steps in order to avoid falling backward. He learned that he had to lean forward slightly and utilize his tail far more effectively to offset the increased weight behind him with the wings and the tentacle-like appendages and thicker tail. Once he was on his feet, hunger followed the experience of standing, however dizziness and a feeling of uneasiness followed... Skulking away and finding shelter felt instinctively more relevant than a meal.

V1.2. Still adjusting to FA desc. mechanics. More to be posted soon.