"Your Grace, you are not seriously considering..."
Barred from forging armies beyond what they needed to protect their forges flesh-smiths at the height of their craft fell to mostly cosmetic alterations, for purposes the proprietors of Lyseni pillow houses would find familiar.
"The template is more magically potent than baseline humanity, more than capable to preserving the fading magic of our new citizens when you factor in standard mental and physical enhancements," you reply as the largest of the fey spirits, a vaguely simian being with the head of an eyeless lizard-lion sets off, brushing aside a thorn thicket.
"You could have allowed them to remain beasts," the governor of Volantis replies, his single malformed wing fluttering in frustration as your company continues along the path.
"A lack of thumbs makes for citizens rather ill-equipped to deal with most of the tools and conveniences of civilization," you counter reasonably.