Oncemen: Robots, but Meat!

    Oncemen are one of my favorite things about Descent, mostly because I'm a huge fan of body horror and especially a huge fan of creatures made of multiple, fused-together creatures. Bonus points if the constituent parts are conscious and aware but unable to do anything. There may be something wrong with me. However, that's not what we're here to talk about.

    Oncemen are, as the opening paragraph suggests, creatures made of fused-together creatures. Specifically, they are fused-together humans. Each Onceman is created via extremely intense, painful magical surgery, often performed by a Dove (or in some cases a Vulture.) Every single one is created to serve a specific purpose, be it moving cargo or bodyguarding or being a mobile miniature artillery platform. To that end, the Oncemen are not particularly clever, or at least no more clever than they need to be.

    Some physical features are common amongst most (if not all) Oncemen: a truly Liefeldian muscle mass, translucent skin, bands of Elderspeech holding all the bits together, and...the goo. There's really no better way to describe it than that. If you're dealing with Oncemen, odds are you'll see a substance not unlike the fluid that covers a raw chicken breast: a clear, viscous biological substance with a similar consistency to hand sanitizer. Prevailing theories suggest that it's some sort of biological agent that keeps all the different parts from rejecting each other, or a naturally-formed lubricant that maintains the odd mechanical part that might aid a Onceman in its function. 

    Oncemen are an unfortunate and grisly byproduct of the frugal and efficient lifestyle of Descent. Nothing goes to waste, not even people. So, what better way to repurpose the dregs of society, the beggars and thieves, than to remake them into useful organic machinery? As the name implies, the Oncemen were once men, women, and others, their flesh recycled into the hideous patchwork beasts so commonly used as dumb muscle. These people, these ingredients, come most often from the Pit. The Pit is a prison truly massive in scope, where prisoners are kept in cramped and squalid cells until the time comes for them to be...reused. They are fed once a day if the guards can be bothered to remember, each serving a sentence that far outweighs whatever petty crime they committed. There is nothing less than a life sentence in the Pit, and nobody has ever managed to escape. Even if a prisoner could sneak past the patrolling guards, they could not escape the sight of the Panopticon. 

    Imagine a giant meatball. I'm going somewhere with this, I swear, just imagine a meatball. Now, cover it in wrinkled skin mottled in various colors. Now, add eyes. More. More than you believe any life-form could conceivably need. Now put a rudimentary brain at the center, and a long cord similar to an enormous optic nerve, shod in rubber and brass banding. This is the Panopticon, an ever-suffering aberration of twisted flesh, barely conscious of its own agony. The thousands of unblinking (because the eyelids have been removed) eyes see everything in the Pit, and send this information directly to a series of cathode-ray-tube screens in the nearby barracks. That's right, it's the world's grossest security camera.

    The Panopticon is just one of the many disgusting varieties of Onceman that can be found wandering the docks, warehouses, and heavily-guarded areas of Descent. Should you encounter one of these wretched things, run quickly away. Though you may pity it, it will not afford you the same consideration.