Viktor cackled a bit too ominously for the Summoner's comfort, but said nothing as he proceeded to tap his right hand with his left. The limb was replaced with what appeared to be an unholy amalgamation of a circle-saw, tongs, a drill, and numerous none-too pleasant looking needles.

"Now, if you happen to be squeamish or generally have a fear of having your flesh penetrated......unfortunately, it is too late to reconsider now. I must warn you that you must not make any sudden movement, lest you lose an organ at best or die at worst. Feel free to scream as loudly and continuously as you need, the sound will not bother me in the least and the music will blare out most of it anyhow."

And with that said the Machine Herald proceeded to begin the operation that would make the crippled walk again.....Though there was much bleeding (not enough for one to die), excruciating pain, and agony the likes that few others had ever experienced. It was a long and arduous procedure, and there were some moments where it appeared that the General would give out, but both the almost-machine and the Summoner persevered for four grueling hours until the deed was done. The Summoner's nervous system, though not repaired, had been reinforced and integrated, successfully mind you, with a network of conductive lines and most of the withered flesh of his legs (the calves and thighs specifically, the rest was durable plastic) replaced with metal plates that were light weight but very sturdy.

More detail would be given, but the sheer mechanics of how Viktor managed this procedure would cause most to go into a drooling fit of absent-mindedness....

"---iece..." Wyerden appears outside the laboratory in a sitting position and immediately falls backwards. "Well, should have expected that..." He grumbles, regaining his feet before taking in his surroundings. The doors of the warehouse remain negligently open, revealing the most technologically advanced laboratory one could imagine. Despite the impetus of seeing his new workplace for the first time, his focus is immediately drawn to the Machine Herald himself, standing over a blood-soaked table, his entire focus upon a screaming cripple wearing summoner's robes. "I certainly hope that's elective surgery," Wyerden mutters before finding a convenient location out of the way to watch the procedure unfold.

Having completed his prior work, the Machine Herald turns his attention to the entrance of his laboratory and regards the newcomer with a simple nod. He felt nothing in regards to the improvements he had just done to the weaker summoner upon his operation table, though it was well enough that he had finally found another who was willing to have their human form upgraded - even if it wasn't to the extent of a glorious evolution.

Viktor merely went over a sink settled at one far side of the former warehouse - in truth, it was more of an armory before Zaun rose to its status as a city-state - and thoroughly washed off the blood that was already coagulation in clunks within the smallest recesses of his instrument.

"I welcome you to my laboratory, you must be Wyerden. I would offer you a seat, however I have not furnished my sanctum with any of the like due to my current status as vastly superior mechanical steel."

Quote:

Originally Posted by Ask Talon Viktor, Have you considered selling augments that would be worn as a second skin over flesh? The market for such devices for miners and lumberjacks would be immense, even for city guards and soldiers as well. Think of it as a stepping stone to the Evolution if you would. ~Talon

((Whoops, didn't notice xD ))

"I will make due." Wyerden glances at the now resting summoner. "Is this one of your experiments, or a customer?"

Viktor looked to the currently unconscious, though very much breathing, summoner laying on the table before shaking his head dismissively and walking over to lean against one of the pods proudly on display.

"He made a request, and I answered. He should be satisfied enough with the results."

He fell silent as he watched Wyerden intently. He seemed to be sizing up his potential prospect, taking note of anything and everything that could be observed.

Pack shifted quietly, mustering up a small groan as he came to after the operation. His head hurt like hell, to say nothing of his back and his legs, but he slowly overcame the immense pain and managed to flick open his eyes. He found himself staring up at an intense light, and he grimaced at it before testing out his arms, pulling himself up from the operating table.

"Guess my low pain tolerance was a blessing there," he grunted out, "Didn't feel a **** thing while I was knocked out..."

He looked down at his legs, completely changed and resembling little the flesh bags he'd dragged around in his wheelchair. Getting up, he held himself as he wobbled slightly, readjusting to his new-found (or should he say, re-found) ability to walk. He took a tentative first step.

His foot landed on the ground with a resounding clink! of metal, and he smiled, turning to Viktor.

"It... worked," he said. Then, not believing himself, he uttered the words louder, "It worked!"

The sound of the previously ordained summoner rousing from his unconsciousness caused Viktor to look towards the operating table with little more than a low huff. It had startled him, slightly, though he expected the General, having been combat experienced, would not have remained knocked out for too much longer. He watched as the summoner hauled himself up, then wobble clumsily to his feet. The Machine Herald saw no need to assist the newly modified summoner, only to chuckle in slight amusement at his struggles to stand erect.

And the summoner gave an exclamation of such triumph that it almost made some faint feeling of satisfaction gurgle in the pit of Viktor's core. He merely repressed this, however, and simply nodded generally at the General.

"Of course it worked, for I am a genius. Did you truly harbor any doubt that I, who has converted the majority of his former flesh into steel, could not successfully restore your biological state? The steel that I have replaced your leg tissues with is comprised of a very dense alloy with a high boiling and a low freezing point. It may or may not render you completely immune to certain elements, especially those of an arcane nature, though it should suffice enough to endure a great deal of stress and activity."

If he had a human face, he would be smiling now. Proudly, at that.

"You are very welcome. And congratulations. Also, the conduit network that has mostly replaced your nervous system is still very much the same in function, though not as easy to wear out or disable. You may consider it similar to having lightning charging through strings and threads, passing the neural signals from your brain through the rest of your body. It is not dangerous, however. You will be fine so long as you do not expose it to pure water."

"So... no bathing then," the summoner scratched his head awkwardly, "Well, this'll be something to tell the boys. Heh."

Eager to test out his new abilities, he began pacing around the room, his wheelchair long forgotten, as he marveled at the rest of Viktor's inventions. While he'd been slightly off-put by Viktor's arrogance when he first met him, he had to admit that it wasn't so much arrogance that Viktor had - it was brilliance. The man was a genius and he knew it - pressed it to his advantage. A bit much, Pack admitted, but geniuses weren't expected to be modest now, were they?

Observing some of the Herald's scraps, he asked, "I suppose you'll be looking for some sort of payment. I can offer you a large sum of gold - summoner's wages - but I have something a little more interesting in mind. How would you like an apprentice?"