At first sight the bulky figure hobbling through the cloudy harvest evening would not appear as unhuman to any observer. Any citizen that saw the figure would just assume that it was some old, misshapen beggar in his dirty ropes. Only on a closer look someone could see the strange feet the person was walking on and maybe if he turned his head, become aware of something that looked like and unaturally long nose.
They called him Crowfeet, although he had an actual name, he still used Crowfeet because he learned that the people in this city weren't able to pronounce his name correctly anyway.
Crowfeet was a stranger to this city, he came from about half a world away, but his people abandoned him or he did abandon his people, depending on the point of view.
Crowfeet was a Tengu, the tengu were a people of humanoid ravens, living in the far east. Crowfeet's kin loved soaring the skies abouve the dragonspine mountains and practice the art of the sword. He himself however never was that much interested in swordplay and learn magic instead. Regular magic at first, but later he looked into darker, more specific kinds of magic. The people of the far east called it Maho - Bloodmagic.
He had to leave his poeple and later he left the continent. He traveled to the west just to find out that westerners weren't found of his craft either. He kept fleeing until he found this place.
He liked to compare it to the dirty nest of a flightless bird, build into the ground, that's basically what it was - a dirty hole in the ground. It sorta suited him though, he made the experience that the people of this city were not interested in the celestial wheel, they were only interested in cause and effect. And Crowfeet was able to provide them many, many effects.
He had build a small hut to the side of the citywall, near the main graveyard of the beggar's quater. The presence of corpses, fresh or otherwise were...usefull to him.
As he entered the hut he imidietly shook himself to get rid of some rainwater on his feathers. The hut had only one room, that was pretty much stuffed with all kinds of alchemical devices and gruesome tools, one of them being a large iron cauldron filled with the remains of dead animals, rats mainly - after all we was a magician and not a chef.
He picked up a pail full of rainwater and poured its content into the cauldron. He put down the pail when he heared someone aproaching the hut.
"Come in", he said without looking up.
"Good evening.", said the voice of a women - politness, how refreshing.
"I heard you can curse poeple."
"If you have something of the person you want to be cursed, yes."
He still didn't look at her, instead he started searching for the things he needed for the Hex.
"I have a lock of his hair."
Crowfeet held his claw out to recieve the hair and take a look at it.
"Yes, this will do. What do you want to happend to 'him'?", people tended to expect to much from people who have "powers" so he had to please to the best of his abilities. Sometimes people wanted someone dead and then he had to pretend a curse and later kill them in another way.
"Make that he can't get it up again. Ever.", there was slight hint of bitterness in the women's voice, but he learned not to ask too many question.
Yet he tried to converse: "An ungrateful Lover?"
"Look I don't care if he goes to random women in the city, but he should never have touched our daughter."
Never ask to many questions.
He formed a small image of a man from wax. He then wrapped the lock of hair around the images genitals and then pierced it with two wooden needels, perpendicular through the figures waist, before throughing it into the fire under the cauldron.
"Done.", he streched out his claw again "You owe me."
She nodded and opened a bag with two herrings in it, that she gave him.
"Oh these will do nicely.", he said with a greedy gleam in his eyes. In fact he was so hungry that he instantly swallowed one of the herring. The second he put aside to preserve or prepare in a more suiting manner.
She held a finger at his face:"If it didn't work I will come back for those."
"Be my guest.", he gulped.
Crowfeet was confident that she wasn't going to come back, in fact he may have over done it. He would be suprised if this man he never met was going to get up anything ever again.
Almost casually he looked into the cauldron.
The cauldron not only was for cooking it was also his version of a magical mirror, a so called scrying device and now it showed him an image of an almost empty street. The only person to see was some tall guy in black wizards robes. Crowfeet only got a sort glimps at the mans face but it was enough to realize it was just a skull.
This man was getting quite active, maybe something is on the horizon.
"Peperations seem in order."