Story Time: Feth the Cannibal Assassin

(*Warning* there are themes of cannibalism below. It's not graphic, but if that sort of thing upsets you, I would skip this post.)

One of my favorite characters to this day is my good friend’s Human Rogue Assassin PC, Feth. For simplicity and anonymity, we will call this good friend “X”. X is an odd sort of person already. He goes by his nickname (which starts with an X) and even though I’ve known him for 5+ years, I still don’t know his real name. I have a few ideas, but I’m not 100%. When we met, I was a little bit of a prick and just called him a new male name every campaign, going down the list in alphabetical order. It was a jest and in all good fun and he didn’t take offense to it. I’ve since dropped that charade and call him by his preferred nickname. 

Regardless, it was X, my bestfriends who were also a couple, my brother, and myself getting ready to start our first Fantasy AGE campaign. I was the GM. I was also a green GM, fresh and sparkling in the lamplight. So of course, being new, I gave my characters a pretty long leash when it came to creating their characters. This was also before I understood how point buy and standard array for ability stats can be a GM’s best friend. 

Long story short, we had girl from couple create a ratfolk character penname “Luc”; her boyfriend created a fairly dim feral man, penname “Az,” that shapeshifted into a polar bear; my brother came for a few sessions, and I can’t for the life of me remember his edgelord cringe character’s race, he named his PC “Meta”; and X’s character Feth, a human assassin that enjoyed to cook and consumed his targets. 

I know I already said Feth is one of my favorite characters, and indeed this entire post is about his character. However, I want to emphasize that all these characters, save my brothers, were very memorable and loved characters. Our campaign managed to span a good four years before we ended it. Some players joined and left in that time, but the main three I mentioned stayed. One of the players, the woman who created the ratfolk character, still uses her old character as her online persona. Her now husband, who created the man/bear, also still talks about his adventures as the dim witted polar bear-man and his best friend the assassin cannibal, who would share some delectable meals. 

I’m getting off track. Let me introduce you to Feth. We met our assassin friend for the first time enjoying a meal provided by his most recent contract, though not by choice mind you. He was a very well dressed gentleman and you would not pin him for a rouge, or an assassin, for that matter. He always kept up his appearances and spoke in a very noble like manner, without sounding snobbish or condensing. 

Feth had a taste for anything unusual. While human was by far his favorite, he was drawn to anything that he hadn’t tried before. Calling him an opportunist was an understatement. Any chance he was given to try or cook different meats he took. It was almost a given that as soon as a defeated monster fell, Feth would roll to dress down the beast. The party never grew hungry with Feth around. 

His cooking skills improved while on their adventures and he would often seek out exotic spices to add to his growing supply. Besides that, he grew very attached to one of his companions, Az. They had had a sort of appreciation for each other and their shared interests in human flesh. While Feth was exceedingly smart, Az had little brains to be desired. They were a perfect duo. Each rubbing off on each other, making bad decisions and executing clever combative plays. It is well known by the two, if one should fall, the other will honor them by consuming their flesh.

One of my favorite scenes was when Luc, Az, Feth, and Benji (a picked up NPC), were traveling in a deserted desert. Az was complaining about the lack of water and how thirsty he had become when the four of them stumbled upon a very odd looking cacti patch. Feth had mentioned there could be water stored in the cacti and that cacti, after being properly prepared, can be delicious. He wished to try it. Luc, being the youngest of the group, was quick to pipe up that it may not be safe to try unknown plants. Despite the warnings, Az hacked open the cacti and they both drank from the flesh. 

It was a hallucinogenic cacti, much like our real world Peyote. The effects lasted quite a while. I added this cacti into the campaign because I had just watched Avatar the Last Airbender and I adored the scene where Sokka had cactus water and started hallucinating. Once the effects wore off, the two, Az and Feth, named the water, unimaginatively, “cactus juice”. They also filled up the remaining of their empty water barrel with as much of the “juice” they could find. 

Much, much later, they ended up meeting a Beer Craftsman in a dwarven city. They had a pitch for the Beer Craftsman, and they wanted to start a new line of beer using the cactus juice. Feth’s communication and persuasion skills were so high, the beer maker was won over easily. Thus started a years journey of finding various unusual ingredients for their growing beer line and sending any spare coin to the brewery. 

If you were to ask Feth what he hasn’t tried, and what he would like to try, he would say “wizard, I want to know if the meat is zingy or perhaps has an electric charge to it.” He would do a little dance with his shoulders when he pronounced the word “zingy,” in an endearing, almost schoolgirl like way. 

With his hands clasped together, he would bow his head in respect with a, “How do you do?” and you would never know those hands had prepared many meals from unusual, controversial sources. Nor would you think, if he was given the opportunity, those hands would be preparing you for a dinner table.   

So, if you meet a well dressed individual, with slicked back black hair, a thin mustache and a rather dry sense of humor. Be weary. If he offers you a meal he prepared expertly with passion and gusto, seasoned with his many spices he tirelessly gathered over his travels. Be cautious, for he may be Feth and he may be offering you a meal you don’t want to know where it came from, or who it came from.