Not sctrictly a character, but my GM asked me, as we're going to Eisen and I happen to be playing a monster hunter, to create the Terror that is stalking the town. Thus...
(lit. The Skin Tailor)
A short, timid-looking old man with sallow, wrinkled skin and rheumy eyes, calloused hands and a dusty, oft-mended craftsman’s attire. On closer inspection, it starts to become clear that the skin is a patchwork of fine scars and needlework, holding his facade of humanity together, but by then, he’s most likely drawn his long cutting shears...
He is the inhuman lynchpin that binds together his web of flesh and sinew. Without him, his creations fall apart.Motivation
Compulsive craftsman, using human skin, bone and sinew to create clothing that reflects his subject’s life or personality. Sturdy gloves of a mason, elegant leather boots of a courtesan, etc.Shapeshifting
The best hunters never let their prey know they are being hunted until it is too late. This creature could be standing next to you, perhaps even speaking with you, and you might never know it. Spend a Danger Point to have this Monster assume a new form. The new form is completely indistinguishable from whatever it is mimicking, save for a specific thing that the GM determines. For example, a specific Monster may always have cat’s eyes or have a snake’s fangs.Flavour: Die Hautschneider can alter his own appearance like tailors let out a jacket, with needle, thread and some ‘leather’ from a particular source.Regenerating
The Monster heals quickly, and is even able to regenerate lost limbs. This Quality can only be applied to a Monster Villain. Spend a Danger Point to remove all Wounds in the current tier. Spend 2 Danger Points to remove 1 Dramatic Wound.Flavour: The wounds literally ‘knit’ back together with needle and thread.Origin:
Once upon a time, a poor tailor was commissioned by a wealthy gentleman to make him some winter clothes. The money was good and the tailor was more than happy to put all other work aside to see this done. The gentleman asked for a jacket as tough as a soldier’s hide, boots as sure as a huntsman’s stalk and gloves as soft as a virgin’s kiss. A curious request, but the tailor was sure he could give the gentleman what he asked for.
The tailor spent what little he had acquiring the finest leathers he could find to create the items the gentleman requested. Night and day he toiled, neither eating nor sleeping until the task was complete. His hands cracked and raw, his stomach knotted and growling, he looked upon his work and smiled with pride. Truly, this was the finest work he had ever done!
The next day, the tailor presented the gentleman with his jacket and gloves and boots. The gentleman regarded the fine leathers, the elegant stitching, the beautiful decoration...then threw them into the fire in disgust.
“I told you,” the gentleman spat, “a jacket as tough as a soldier’s hide, boots as sure as a huntsman’s stalk and gloves as soft as a virgin’s kiss. I will accept nothing less.”
The tailor had spent every penny on acquiring the leather he’d needed, and still it was not enough? He had neglected his work for so long that his other customers had taken their business elsewhere, If he did not finish this commission, he would face ruin. He approached the usurers and with a heavy heart borrowed against his own home, bribing dock workers, hiring professional hunters, scouring the four corners of Theah for the rarest hides imaginable.
Weeks passed. The tailor grew thin and wizened, surviving off’ rainwater and the scraps of rawhide he could spare. Night and day became meaningless. Madness’ icy fingers slipped into the tailor’s mind, but in that madness, he created something sublime. Finally, he had it.
The gentleman’s household nearly turned away the obvious madman at their door when the tailor came to deliver his work, but the gentleman waved them away. He asked the tailor, “You have what I asked for?”
The tailor nodded, and showed him.
Nothing had ever been made so exquisite. Hide worked in such a way that it almost seemed still living, so light and natural that it could be felt as an extension of your body. Perfect.
Once again, the gentleman cast them all into the fire. In rage, he rounded on the tailor, bellowing once again, “a jacket as tough as a soldier’s hide! Boots as sure as a huntsman’s stalk! Gloves as soft as a virgin’s kiss! DO NOT RETURN UNTIL YOU CAN BRING ME WHAT I ASK!”
The tailor left. His best had not been enough. He had sacrificed everything. There was simply nothing left for him to give.
But perhaps there was something for him to take.
The tailor left the town. The usurers claimed his workshop, noting only that they were short some of the simpler tools of the tailor’s trade. Life, such as it was, carried on as normal.
Then one autumn evening, the gentleman’s gamekeeper disappeared. They found his body strung from a tree. His feet missing.
The next day, the gentleman found a pair of boots at his bedroom door. They were firm and formed well, they met even the slickest precipice with the sureness of a mountain goat. A finer pair of boots had yet to be made.
As winter crept in, and the memory of the gamekeeper’s demise had begun to fade, the gentleman’s brother, a fine swordsman and proud military man went missing on his way home from the inn.
He was found the next morning, hung from his ankles, his whole torso flayed clean to the bone.
The next day, the gentleman found a jacket hung inside his wardrobe, made of a leather that turned aside steel and fire like rainwater. It was then that the gentleman knew what this meant.
In a panic, the gentleman summoned his daughter his his side, young, fair, betrothed to a noble house, he knew what the tailor wished to do next and he would deny him that pleasure.
The following day, the carriage sent for his daughter arrived in the town, horses steaming and frothing from the mad ride they’d made from the estate to the safety of home. The gentleman flew to the door, flung it open…
...and saw a pair of delicate pale leather gloves arranged on the seat. Next to them, penned in a steady hand, was a note:
“I ask for no coin, sir, for you have shown me such wondrous and terrible things.”
So be cautious, should you find an errant shoe or glove seemingly cast aside on a lonely woodland track. It may be Die Hautschneider, looking for someone to complete the pair.
Monster Squad (Die Fleish-Puppen)
The skinless, mindless leftovers of Die Hautschneider’s victims. They are clumsy and slow, but thanks to their master’s handiwork, they have become adept at patching one-another up should they come under attack.Suggested Move: Much like the Pirate Brute Squad, spend a Danger Point to have 1 of the squad abduct an NPC and drag them away to Die Hautschneider’s lair.Unliving
Typically single-minded in the pursuit of slaughter and feeding their insatiable hunger, these walking corpses are unsettling to behold but not a significant threat alone. This Quality can only be applied to a Monster Squad. Spend 1 Danger Point at the end of a Round to return this Squad to full Strength.Relentless
Prey runs, and the predator gives chase. This Monster never gives up the hunt, and hiding from it is futile. It will find you. Any attempts to evade or escape from this Monster cost 2 Raises, instead of 1. Spend a Danger Point to have the Monster enter a Scene, so long as it is physically possible.