[u][b]736[/b][/u]

Morning preparations had never been a massive priority of 736's. The crack of dawn signaled little change in the isolated lab he called home. There was no need to make a bed. Flesh Golems do not sleep. There was no need to make breakfast. Flesh Golems do not eat. Hygene was of minimal concern. The caustic alchemical substances that spread their fumes through 736's bizzare, decrepit hovel made conventional bacteria a non issue. The building, the experiments and 736 himself eternally smelled of formaldahyde. There was little that could be done about it. 

In most cases, 736 wouldn't even notice the progression of the cycle of life outside. The sun rises, the sun sets, the people of the nearby villages wake up to whisper their gossip about the strange shack in the forrest that had been vacant for 3 years, but still belches forth a plume of smoke at seemingly random intervals. And 736 continued his studies. There were tests to run, books to read, notes to be organized, samples to be grown. There surely would not be enough hours in the day for him, had everything not seemed like one continuous day. 

That was not the case today. 736 remembered the event clearly. 72 hours prior, some sort of corvid had delivered to him a letter, informing him of a most fortuitous oportunity for further research and testing: enrolement in a program to train Gatekeepers. In his studies, the Gatekeepers had always caught 736's attention. They and they alone were the wardens of the Black Gale, a bridge between worlds, hosting strange fauna and governed by alien natural principals. 736 had a fair amount of academic knowledge in the way of psychology. Thus, he could identify his response to this prospect as "excitement".

736 had been cognisent of the fact that he could not transport all of his test subjects to the Academy with him. After being provided sufficient time to ponder, 736 determined that all that he really required were the basic supplies for testing: scalpels, microscopes, slides, etc. He would also need Blitzengiest, though 736 did not think of the amorphous green symbiote as luggage, or even a weapon. More of a pet, really. In all 6 years of his life, the curious little life form was the closest thing that 736 had ever had to a friend. Finally, 736 donned the cloak provided to him. 736's practical knowledge of society, limited though it may have been, made him aware that many of his peers would find the sight of a 2.5 meter tall, iron-studded mass of reanimated flesh disconcerting at best. Thus, he found it pertinent to obscure his rather aesthetically offputting form as best he could.

Leaving his abode for the first time in recent memory, 736 found himself face to face with a creature that resembled a mish-mash of parts almost as arbitrary as himself. The beast in question was none other than a griffon. 736 knew that the Academy, prestegious establishment that it was, would provide some form of lavish transportation. After resigning himself to the fact that no, he did not have time to perform behavioral tests on this rare and spectacular creature, 736 mounted the griffon with little hesitation. Tests had shown that Blitzengiest could become a servicable flight membrane, should the need arrise. And with that, the beast let out a screech and began to ascend.