Molars

There are monsters born of the world's sins, our darkest thoughts made manifest. Some fear them, some hate them. I find them generally quite good with butter.

-- Molars

Molars is able to see things immaterial. More to the point, he is able to eat them. He can touch and interact with various entities that are manifested from the unconscious of humanity, some of which are very dangerous. In addition, he can consume these entities to take on their abilities. He can eat most anything, provided he can properly cook and prepare it, and anything he eats, he can take on the traits of.

Backstory

Molars remembers when they first realized they were special. It was porridge they were eating, at the table with their family when they saw their first monster. They were 8. The monster was looming outside the window, in the cornfield. The chickens were dead the next day. It wasn't a fox. Foxes don't do... that.... to their prey. The guts were everywhere. 

Molars remembers being sad that those livers were contaminated now. He'd just learned to make chicken liver more than passably. And the eggs. It would be a long time before they could find a layer like Matilda. 

It came for him in his bed next. He fled to the kitchen to get a knife. He stabbed it, then when it stopped moving, he took it to the butchering shack and carved it up, like his dad taught him to do with the hog. It made meals for a week, and what do you know, it had a very nutritious liver. Good with Garlic, and butter. But everything's good with butter

His parents were scared. Proud, sure, but scared They'd heard about things like that in old stories. The power to kill something like that, was impressive, and terrible. The power to cook something like that, though... that was a different kind of power entirely.

He traveled a while, getting into scraps with creatures no one else could see, and working kitchens across the continent. He was 12 when he came across the Looming Shambler. It was a vast, cow-like thing, wretched in every way. A manifestation of despair, it brought bad harvests, bad weather, and worse to the entire county. It made a good soup.

He was 16 when he fought the Exalted Delusion. It had a whole village in it's clutches, hypnotized by those singing and whispering mouths. Its tender flesh was best with far too much sugar to be reasonable.

At 21 there was the Red Beast. It's pure Rage and violence, made manifest in every armament imaginable, all fused into one mass of fur, flesh and vengeance, cut through a number of retired military officers who fought in a war long finished. It did not cut through Molars. Molars did cut through it. It made a good barbecue, with jerky for later.

23 brought the crawling plague. It was a bad one. The worst so far. It's venom turned people into husks full of hate and desire to spread the infection. A city fell to it before Molars could stop it. It was good wrapped in a pastry, but not good enough to forget it's horror. When Molars felt that venom gather behind his own teeth he wanted to be sick. But even something like that deserved the recognition of a good meal.

25 was when he encountered the Squatting Sultan running the biggest thieves ring in the Gazarian Markets. It was another kind of monster. Smart. Cunning. No less monstrous. It was Greed manifest, and it didn't care what was done to satisfy it. Slavery was outlawed in Gazar, and none of the other syndicates were running people. One of the best things Molars ever did was turn that thing into jam, and not just because of how exquisitely the flavors melted with the fruit.

Compared to the Crawling Plague and the Squatting Sultan, the Maze King was almost benign. Almost. It's spreading of a "perfect world" with it in perfect control was less overtly evil, but it grew petty and cruel, and so it's wings had to be fried and tossed with spinach and onions.

Now Bifrost Terminal looks like it might be a new, and delicious, problem to solve.

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