Dark Sun Rising
Mask of the Dancer (Hat of Disguises)
A mask worn by Shiv made from the flesh of a Doppleganger
The bolt of defiler power splashed the creature. It shreaded and twisted and fell. For a moment the gem of an idea appeared in her mind. A black gem. Almost obsidian.
When the battle concluded, she walked to the corpse.
To her this was not a person. It was, well, a creature. A bit like an animal, but more like a monster in childrens tails. But it was still a little – awkward? Normally she did not worry about what the others thought. However, they were currently a source of limitless money and excitement. And she had help kill two defilers now – the fun was only starting. She could not afford to put them offside.
However, this was to great an opportunity to miss. The Mul would understand. It was just animal parts. The Dwarf would get all uppity and go on about “in-the-old-days-when-dwarves-were-douche-bags”, but as long as she helped him, he would suck it up. No, the problem lay with the templar. But she had just said a moment ago when discussing killing her boss, “better to ask forgiveness than to seek permission”.
She cut the hide from the front of its head. It came away easily. It made a rough mask. As they walked she rubbed a poison she kept into the skin. Between that and the defiler energy that had fried the creature, the the blood would freeze in the mask and it would not decompose. She would cure it properly later. As she walked she flicked her mind out in tiny spikes of ki. Each was targeted as a nerve and muscle group in a face. The mask responded. She put it on and the mask letter her dance between a few faces.
She could see out the corner of her eyes the others watching her. She did not worry. This was going to be useful…and they all knew it.