In the night following a battle, the Grafters come. Tracking the scent of bodies aged by the heat of day, the skulking horde prepares for a night of labour.
They work in silence. Within the fugue of dusk, the Grafters and Harvesters operate with speed and precision. Removing faces and limbs, skins and muscles, they quickly perform their ritual. The final act of defilement which quells the curse of their fallen race, to provide a brief respite from their unquenchable doom
