The Road Home: Seers and Spiders (solo)

[Lady Anais]

Underwood. Not the most favored of places one could live. Living out of a hostel was worse, as the revolving door of rabble changed the scenery by the day. Lady Hieras had been here for months now, and unhappy with it for months.

Imagine if you can, just for a moment, having a home. For many, it's not a far stretch. Now imagine one day you leave that home. Bandits seize the opportunity and take everything. Your land. Your resources. Your workers. Imagine the servants loyal to you being slaughtered. People in the community who stand up for your claim being blackmailed and bullied into slandering your name. Into renouncing your position in their society. Neighbors, friends. All willing to turn their back on you. Now imagine your one hope. One untouchable entity. One entity free from corruption and influence. The last place you can turn to for help.

Now imagine; they don't care. Imagine that they side with the bandits because of the weakness of men. People among their ranks fat and happy and bartering away their principles for their own gain. Bless the word of the Etheral Sway. May it ever protect us from ourselves.

But for the devout, that would not be enough to bring pause. It would be said that "those are just men," and that they would be reminded of just what it is they were dedicated to. They would be shown how they had strayed from the path. Just like the bandits they were in collusion with.

That kind of resolute thinking drove Lady Hieras from months. She had been on a long pilgrimage, off to negotiate trade rights when she had heard news of the overthrow of her fief. It would begin her journey back home. To reclaim her home. To oust the bandits. To "correct" the ways of the corrupt amongst her beloved Church.

By the time she had gotten as far as Underwood, her journey ended. News of the overthrow of the Church, the destruction and cleansing of the Etheral Sway from Knife's Edge had traveled fast. This is where she was when it reached her.

Still remembering the image of your home, stolen? Your neighbors who were coerced into turning their back on you? Imagine those same neighbors- without being forced- rallied together and killed your God. Imagine your perfect home that you wanted to reclaim now rested in the middle of an entire nation that had abandoned everything you believed in. That your home was now on the unhallowed ground that stood next to the gravesite of all of your convictions, murdered at the hands of your people.

There was no going back to Salvar after that. There was no reason. Losing your belongings is easy to overcome; having your faith ripped from you is crippling. She still had a large allotment of money from her traveling expenses when she had decided to rent out a room. Time had gone on. No funds coming in. Costs taking money out. But by now, the money had come and long since gone. She had gotten down to the last of what she had left just recently.

No money. No home. No faith. No direction.

It seemed as the money was winding down, that the old beggar woman that often sat across the street was paying more attention to Anais. As she had come and gone about her way, the old woman would turn her head, shaky and and brittle in motion on her thin neck. Her eyes always hung half shut, blotted out blind irises of clouded white stared out from the hollow sockets. Had it not been long known to everyone in the hostel that she was blind, Anais would have sworn the old beggar was watching her. And today, her interest in Lady Anais had apparently peaked. The old woman, the loose skin of her face hanging like a mastiff's jowls with each step, had for the first time begun to cross the road.

As Anais walked out of the building for the day, she saw with surprise a hunched body in front of the building, one that was weakly pointing a slender, withered finger directly at her.

[Lady Anais]

"You have given up. But you are not satisfied with giving up." A raspy voice echoed from the old woman's body. "I have watched you, and I have seen what has happened to you, and what is stirring within you."

Anais stepped around the old woman, irritated.

I don't have time for the ramblings of some crazy old beggar.

"If you think you're the first person to consider me crazy, you are as mistaken about me as you are about yourself." The old woman said sharply with a chuckle.

Anais' eyes grew wide as she stopped mid-step. She turned slowly, looking with disblief behind her.

"Surprised, are you? That is because you only deal in what you think you know. You think that just because an old woman is blind that there are not still things that she can see, things others may not. You think that just because you cannot speak, there are none out there who can hear you."

This is impossible.

"Impossible is a matter of perspective, my dear. In a world where powerful sorcerers conjure the very essence of fire out of thin air, where entire armies are laid waste by single men, and where a beaten woman at the edge of death can break the bindings of her captors and slay an entire castle full of her husband's murderers..."

The old woman paused knowingly as the memory of her own past flashed in Anais' head at the last of the beggar's words.

"Is an old seer being able to read one's mind so implausible?"

Anais was stunned, and at the same time her emotions were timbling within her as she held down the memory that had begun to surface just seconds before.

That's not... but if that's so, what does she want with me?

"Come child, let us walk. I will explain. But you will have to go slowly, as my body isn't quite what it used to be."

[Lady Anais]

Anais took soft, deliberate footsteps along the road as the wrinkled shell of a woman shuffled alongside her.

"Long ago, I was an empath, amongst the very best. I could see almost anything about anyone. But it was empathy beyond my control that took what you would consider as my actual sight. Knowing my skills in empathy, my masters had allowed me to look upon, even to touch one of the most powerful artifacts of this world: The Prism of Reflections. Are you familiar with it?"

Anais forgot for a moment that the woman was physically blind and shook her head negatively. Still, the old woman nodded in return.

"No, you wouldn't be. A good daughter of The Sway such as yourself would pay no mind to the artifacts of what you would consider the 'heretic religions'. It was a powerful Thayne artifact. Anyways, upon laying hands on the Prism, I gained such insight into the power of seeing others for their true nature that my very sight of this physical world was lost in the process. But I retained a bit of the touch, and my true sight was able to see more than my eyes ever did. But I imagine you must think I'm rambling and what this has to do with you."

The thought had crossed my mind. Anais thought, quickly pulling herself back from the impulsive reaction within her head.

"Don't worry your pretty head none, dear. I don't find your directness to be rude. I imagine I would react no better, were I in your position. I imagine that's part of his influence over you. I can see the life force of others. What some would call auras. And yours particularly interested me. As of late, I have seen you becoming increasingly frustrated"

The old woman paused, the shuffling of her feet gliding over small pebbles on the ground took the place of her voice. She took careful steps, slowing her snail's pace even further as her blind eyes turned towards Anais.

"It's going to storm today. Can you see it above us?"

Anais stopped, looking towards the sky. A blanket of dark clouds loomed over Underwood and threatened a dismal downpour.

"On most days, your life force looks like those clouds. Dark, shrouded by something that weighs heavy on you. Menacing. Powerful." The old woman tilted her face down as if to look at her own feet. "But unrealized potential. Those clouds as they are merely hang there in the sky, like a warning. But they do nothing. But as the storm grows closer..."

Anais watched the sky above as faint flashes of light lit up the clouds from the inside.

"They change, just like you. You can see it, can't you? The jagged streaks of the lightning, jumping back and forth inside the clouds. They stir, ready. They leap around on the inside, ready at any moment to split the sky and call forth the rain. I've been seeing the same thing when I look at your aura. And I know it's because you are touched by the Thayne."

Lady Hieras dropped her head sharply and stared at the old woman with displeasure. The elderly lady lifted her face to meet Anais', with a soft smile.

"Oh, I know. Good girl like you, sweet daughter of the Sway, you don't believe in the Thayne. Unfortunately, just because you don't believe in something doesn't mean it isn't there. But I admire your resolve. Even with the Church dead, you still hold your conviction. With inner strength like that, it's no wonder He picked you."

I'm losing my patience here. Just who amongst these heathen gods does this old coot think "picked me?" And just what was I picked for?

"Well, belief or not, you were picked, granted a great bane and blessing. By the streaks of orange lightning I see leaping within your life force... and energy so strong and pure it cannot be mistaken, you have been blessed by Hromagh himself. And judging by your temper as well, it's becoming all the more apparent how fitting it was for Him to choose you. You are to fight for Him, to champion His will against His enemies on this world."

I don't have time for this... Anais thought angrily as she turned, starting to walk away.

"Or don't believe me. I know you have your convictions, even if your faith is dying. But what else do you have left? You've watched it all go away. You don't want to turn into nothing yourself!" the beggar said, her voice raising with each step Anais took away from her until she was yelling.

At the last of her words, Anais stopped, anger flickering in her eyes. Her cheeks felt hot as her teeth ground together inside her tongueless mouth. Turning slowly, her eyes fell on the old lady, strands of decaying gray hair like spiderwebs swaying as she shuffled her way back to Lady Hieras.

"This is your purpose. You need direction, and I am telling you, this will provde it. You want a way to truly go home, for everything to be as it should be? This is that way. Justify it to yourself any way you want. Tell yourself that the task at hand is going to be you defeating the supporters of what you call 'heathen gods' to help restore some glory and strength to the Church you once loved. However you want to dress it up for yourself. But this is your path, and it is the only one that will truly lead you home."

Anais sighed. She tried to lower her head, but her neck muscles were already held tight from frustration, as if they were made of firm cord. And just what is it on this path I am supposed to do?

The old woman's soft smile slowly faded, her hanging jowls turning into a deep frown.

"The biggest threat to the Thayne, to this world at all, is one of their own. The foe of They is their sister, one of the very aspects of the being Thayne. And amongst the dealing of this world, it means you will have to conquer her avatar. You will need to slay the Servant of N'jal..."

[Lady Anais]

At the old woman's request, Anais had hailed a passing carriage for the two, and set out towards the outskirts of town. She had said little more, and even as they rode seemed to be content breathing in the copper scent of the air before the rainstorm.

I don't know why I'm even indulging this crazy old lady.

A raucious laugh from the seer broke the silence.

"You're confused, but you still go along with it. That is because even though you can't explain it, you can't even understand it, but you feel it. Something is driving you along in this. Something is telling you I'm right. I could tell you that that was also His touch, but you wouldn't believe me."

Finally accepting that her thoughts could be read, Lady Hieras thought directly to the elderly woman.

So how do I find this Servant of N'jal and kill it?

"Oh deary, you won't be able to. Certainly not yet, at least. You're not ready for it, and even when you are, you won't be able to do it alone, even if you will be the key."

Then where are we going?

"The creature you will eventually have to face, it is greatly powerful. But for all its power, it is protected further by N'jal's followers. I assume you've heard of the Children of N'jal?"

Anais nodded again, this time confident that despite the woman's blindness, she would know the response.

"The N'jalian Magi reside in Concordia. They watch over the Servant, conceal it's location. In order to face it, you would have to go through them first. But you need not fight them directly. N'jal desires to fight, and she desires to fight her brothers and sisters more than any others. If you can prove to them worthy of the challenge, the Servant itself would be insistent on you facing it."

Prove my worthiness?

"Yes, love. And in doing so, you may also be able to unlock the secrets to beating the creature itself."

The carriage bumped roughly, tossing the pair up in their seat a bit as one of the wooden wheels hit an indention in the road. The driver looked back at the two, then shook his head wearily upon seeing his fare was alright. The incredulous look on his face drew the ire from Anais.

"Oh, pay him no mind. He- much like you- is taking my words as the ramblings of a crazed old woman. But you at least are starting to believe, which puts you a step in the right direction. Now, where was I?"

Clapping her hands suddenly, the old woman smiled.

"Oh, yes! I've got it again. The creature, it is not all man, nor is it entirely beast, but a combination of the two. You will need to be able to best both to be able to overtake it. And to prove yourself, you will need to do it under the eyes of the N'jalian Magi. They will need to see your victories, and they will know you are worth the challenge. Man will come later, for now, we must have you face beasts and survive."

Looking around during the ride, Anais grew confused. They were getting close to their destination, which made the beggar's words all the more curious.

If I'm supposed to overcome beasts.... then why did we charter a ride to the Dansdel?

[Lady Anais]

As the pair wandered into the main building of the Dansdel, the crowd was loud and the air hung hot. The noise itself seemed alive, swirling through the air like some formless abomonation, suffocating out everything below. The old woman tucked close to Lady Hieras, looping a decrepit arm underneath Anais' own strong limb.

"What you will justify in your mind as a staggering set of coincidences, I know to be a set of converging roads, already paved, already being walked upon. There are many forks, and many places where different roads converge. This is not by chance. Just as I knew that today would be the day to approach you, that today my words would stir some unexplainable drive- a drive that no matter how much you convinced yourself I was out of my mind- you could not help but go along with. I knew even as we got on the carriage that no matter how skeptical, you would be compelled to take up this charge. That is why we are here. We are here not only to be in this place, but to be at this time."

The crowd continued to stir, the oppressive force of dozens of people gathering through the main building- spectators and competitors alike- searing the room. The old woman looked with blind eyes out at the rolling waves of flesh, her head waving back and forth. The splinter of a withered finger shot up under Anais' arm, pointing ahead of them.

"There. There is a man there. I cannot explain what he looks like, as I can only see the red of his aura. But he is the one you are looking for. See, in this set of colossal cosmic coincidences you think are happening, his road is converging with yours. He has just been denied registration for the very reason we need to seek him out. His destiny and yours, converging on this spot. Where he is losing his opportunity to fight, it is so that you may challenge him."

Up ahead of them, a slender- yet well dressed- ruffian with greasy black hair swept over his head stood with both hands on the registration table. His face was red with anger as he argued with the registrar, even his heated shouts drowned out by the buzz of the crowd. Anais' eyes fell on him firmly as she watched him continue to bemoan the registrar.

"He is a follower of N'jal, a devout in his convictions, much like yourself. But his devotion has led him to a path that would turn him into something horrid. The Children of N'jal... their woods in Concordia are near enough to Underwood that he has brought representatives here. I can see on his path that he wants to turn himself into one of those monsters. But the N'jalian Magi won't accept just anyone. So much like you will need to prove yourself as a foe, he seeks to prove himself as an asset to them. Their eyes are hidden to me, but they do have those who watch him, at his request. Right about now, he is furious that his opportunity to prove himself to them is fading out of his grasp."

As if on cue, the man at the desk slammed a gloved fist hard against the heavy wooden registrar's desk and stepped back. He reached his other hand forward and grabbed a tall rectangular box off the desk in front of him. It was wrought iron with glass sides and a large metal ring at the top for carrying. Pushing through the crowd angrily, he worked his way out through the sea of people while beads of sweat flattened his pencil-thin moustache against his scowling face. As he pushed between the pair of people directly in front of Anais and the beggar, the Baroness could see the box in his hands clearly. It was a glass cage, and inside of it a dark brown spider- the size of a person's hand- clung to it's swaying prison as it was carried along.

"Follow him."

Turning sharply as the man pushed past, Anais put her other arm against the old woman an tucked her in close, dragging her through the crowd.

"He didn't want to compete himself, but place his spider up for competition. He chose it symbolically to impress the Watchers. You, my dear, you will offer him the very challenge he desires. The eyes of the Children of N'jal will be on him still, and that means they will see you as well. Challenge his beast, conquer it, an you will be a step closer."

As they made their way out of the bustling doorway, a large opening of cool air cutting through the heat of the crowd, Anais lessened her hold on the old woman. Her eyes scanned over the crowd outside the Dansdel building until they spotted the almost slick look of the black suit worn by the rejected man. Hustling with anger, he made his way to the outskirts of the crowd, Anais in tow.

I still don't know why I'm going along with this. Maybe she's right. Maybe this isn't chance. Whatever is pulling me, though, it's not letting me stop...

Unseen to Anais, a wicked smile curled across the face of the old woman tucked under her arm.

[Lady Anais]

They had not caught up to the man until they had left the main Dansdel grounds. The looming storm had still not produced any rain, but had drawn attention as the man tromped with furious steps into the nearby wood. He had come to a stop at a dying tree, a gnarled portion of what once was a thick trunk splitting in two was now sawn off into a stump so that the rest of the tree could grow health beside it. As it was, the action was what was killing the other part of the tree, but it provided a clean wooden seat for the man underneath the canopy of the last leaves hanging on to the dying tree. He placed the glass cage on the ground at his feet and looked over at the two women approaching him.

"Look, I don't know why you two are following me, but you might want to get yourselves indoors. Not gonna be any place for you out here in a few moments." he said dismissively, aware they were following him but trying to send them off with but a few words. As shady as his appearance was, something about the way he spoke seemed even more untrustworthy.

"Oh, I'm afraid we've come this far and an old bat like me can't be bothered to muster the energy for a trip back at this point. Besides..." the old lady said with a grin, pointing back at Anais. "She's going to be your answer."

The man looked Anais up and down. Anyone looking at her could no doubt see she was a fighter. From the armor- a set of copper armor that had once been her father's that she polished and wore every day- to the glaive that was fastened to her back, sticking out into the air above her shoulder, she was unmistakable. With a cautious eye, he folded his arms across his chest and tucked one leg up to rest on his opposite knee.

"You two should be in there in the Dansdel, competing, shouldn't you?" A few strands of greasy, slicked-back hair fell from over his ear to run along his cheek. The old woman took a few steps closer.

"No... this is where we should be. Let's just say that we have a vested interest in seeing what you- and your little friend here- can do."

The old woman was bemused with herself. In keeping her answer vague, she knew the man would be misled. No doubt, he would assume from her words that she was one of the ones sent to watch him by the Children of N'jal. She certainly wouldn't say anything to shatter his mistaken view, but couldn't help but feel good that she was able to put on such a facade without directly lying. The man unfolded his arms, tucking his hands into his pockets.

"So you... you want to fight my little Sweetie here, do ya? You really think you're up to the task?"

Anais lowered one eyelid and she looked the man dead in his eyes, a smug look wrapped around her face. The benefit sometimes to not having a tongue is that is saves on all those moments most people have when they are forced to bite theirs to keep quiet. Anais put as obviously fake of a sardonic grin on her face as she could muster and nodded.

Looking around at the sparse vegetation, the man saw a small clearing of earth, a spot on the ground that had obviously sometime in the last storm been the site of a lightning strike. The ground still bore marks of charred vegetation trying to grow back, and hard, blackened soil. Nodding to himself, pulled his hand from his pockets, picking up the glass cage and carrying it to the spot. He gently opened the top and tipped the rectangle over, shaking it lightly.

"You're sure about this? I mean, obviously they must have seen what a great threat Sweetie is to not let me place her in the competition. You can feel free to change your mind..." he quipped, trying his best to egg on the fighter.

Anais just rolled her eyes. The man shrugged dismissively, then came over to her, outstretching his hand for a handshake. In his anger and the heat of the building, he must have sweated enough to soak right through the gloves, as Anais' bare hand firmly grasped damp cloth. She squeezed in harshly on the handshake, providing her own goading to the man.

"Well then, good luck..." he said, "you're going to need it."

He walked over, taking a seat upon the stump as Anais turned and looked at the spider sitting in the burnt out spot on the ground.

Surely they must be joking. This guy must be just as looney as the old woman is...

[Lady Anais]

A loud crackle rang out overhead and the crisp wind if storm weather blew across Anais' face as she looked dismissively at the spider. Her mind was reeling with the idea that anyone could consider this spider a threat. True enough it was larger than most she had seen, but the more she looked at it, the more she grew confused. It was slick and brown, with little knobby protrusions from its chitin body, and had slender legs that appeared almost bone-like. She knew what kind of spiders to look for, and the physiology of this one didn't match up with the ones she had come to know as deadly. She felt a few light plops atop her head as the first drops of rain cascaed down gently, heralding the start of the storm. Still, despite the rain beginning, the small creature in front of her stood still, tensed on all eight legs in preparation.

May as well make this quick... she thought as she tread over soft green coils of vegetative ground cover, a crunch like the sound of splitting lettuce emitted with each step.

She reached the edge of the dead brush of the burnt out hollow, the hard soil darkening even more in an erratic pattern with each drop of rain striking it from above. She raised her leg with the fait clattering of her armor's plates and drove it down in a sharp and quick motion. A faint puff of blackened soil shoved away from either side of her boot, but she didn't hear the crunch of the spider's body. Looking down, she saw the creature, still perched readily on all legs, inches off to the right of her foot.

SLAM, STOMP, STAMP!

She repeatedly lifted her foot and tried to bring it down on the arachnid, each time the beast skittered or sprung to the side just before impact. After the fourth attempt to stomp the eight legged menace, Anais looked down but didn't see the spider. As more and more drops of rain began to come down on her head, her blonde tresses clung together, and began to hang in front of her face. She reached a hand up, pulling the damp hair from in front of her and scanned the ground again.

Nothing.

As she saw the soil dampen and begin to turn to mud, she heard a faint laughter off to the side. Looking over, she saw the spider's master, perched on his stump with a broad smile of rotten teeth. He continued to laugh between his teeth, staring on at the scene as he gentle began removing his gloves and settling them on his lap.

"I warned you..." he said in a sing-song tone of mockery.

It was then that Anais felt it. It wasn't pain, nor a discernable touch, but rather the faint itching, writhing sensation across the skin of her right calf. Looking down, she felt the sensation move quickly and deliberately around the front of her leg to her kneecap. The feeling of crawling on her skin. She threw her hands down at her knee, batting at the copper armor. The action only made the eerie itching move faster and more erratically. The spider was under her armor, and as hard as it would be to squash it inside normal clothes, under armor it would be impossible. She quickly wrapped both hands around her leg, just above the knee. She slid her thumbs and index fingers between a joint in the armor plating, touching each to the opposite hand's to make a ring around her leg. She raised her leg hurredly, having trapped the creature from going higher, and began to kick out into the air. Each lunge of her leg saw heavier rain splatter on the armor and her efforts grew increasingly erratic with each attempt to eject the creature. She teetered, and began to hop on her opposite leg to keep balance, a sight which caused the laughter from several yards away to grow louder.

Her leg spasmed in a desperate attempt to shake the spider loose, and after a minute of trying to shake it out, the creature emerged, skittering out between to of the overlapping metal plates. Reacting instinctively, Anais batted at the arachnid, but it sprung from her leg to land amidst the sloshy black soil in front of her. Irritated, she raised her foot again, prepared to squash the thing once and for all.

It was then that she felt it again. The itching, the now freshly unmistakable sensation of eight legs as they crawled across her skin. But this time, the feeling crawled from just below her neck across to her left shoulder. Writhing uncomfortably, she turned her head to the side and saw another spider emerge, a slightly smaller one from underneath her spaulder to crawl along her arm. Whipping her damp hair to the side, she hurredly brushed at the creature to get it off of her, when she felt the sensation emerge at her neck, as if crawling from her very hair. Reaching up, she felt another spider clinging to her neck amidst wet hair. The falling rain did nothing to wash the literally skin-crawling sensation away from her, as she controted her body, flailing at the creatures. Soon, she began to feel more and more, on her legs, her arms, her back, her abdomen.

Desperate, she continued to writhe as she fell backwards with a sloshy plop against the crunchy vegetation. Rolling side to side frantically, she reached her hands down between her legs, fumbling with a leather clasp. Getting it free, she kicked roughly with her left leg, flinging one of her greaves off. In a panic she began unfastening the other of her greaves, then began to claw up along her sides and under her arms. One by one, she released the clasps, tearing pieces of her armor off with reckless abandon, several spiders emerging from underneath her armor, crawling all over her.

[Lady Anais]

When she finally had gotten the heavy breastplate off, she was finally mobile and uncovered enough that her wild flailings were able to knock the spiders away. Two, maybe even three dozen of them, flung from her with desperate hits. Even after knocking the last loose, even as the rain was now making her clothes cling to her body, she continued to scan her limbs and bat at her skin in a panic, making sure she hadn't missed any.

It didn't abate the feeling. Anyone who's ever had a spider crawl inside their clothes will tell you that you'll still feel that tickling all over your body long after it's gone. Multiply that by a few dozen and you might begin to scratch the surface of what was being felt here. Even though she was confident she had removed all of them, Anais couldn't help but feel that creepy crawly sensation firing through every nerve ending of her skin. She rolled over to her knees, still tearing at her own skin as plants crunched beneath her and muddly soil caked her limbs. Her hair was wet enough now to cling to her forehead and down her cheek, and clumps of well, muddy sludge hung from her elbows. She slapped at the ground frantically, crushing a spider or two while sending others tossed away through the air.

Not being channeled away from her face by her hair anymore, a faint streak of water rolled down from her forehead, over her eyebrows and into her eyes. She wiped at her face quickly, diverting it to the bridge of her nose. The waters had temporarily muddled her vision with a clear sheet of distortion, but as she blinked her sight returned. Her eyes fell on a sharp stick jabbed into the ground at the edge of the hollow, almost as big around as her wrist. It was sleek and brown, and the wood twisted faint knots on the surface as her eyes trailed up it.

Keep telling yourself it's a stick. She's trying to.

As her eyes followed it up, her mouth began to drop with a mix of shock and horror. The "stick" trailed further up, above her head and ending at a bend, a sharp curve looking not unlike a bony joint. Following it with her eyes, she saw it was not a stick stabbed into the ground, but the pointed end to a huge leg. One that had seven copies nearby. Still in disbelief, she pulled one leg up under herself, uprighting as her eyes fell on the beast in front of her.

In this world, massive is a subjective term. Most people think of massive as something as large as a building, maybe even a mountain. But as far as spiders go, it would not be inappropriate to say that Sweetie was now one hell of a massive spider. It stood barely taller than Anais would have been if she were standing herself. It's legs were the length of pikes, with a head the size of a watermelon. Fist-sized compound eyes, eerily bioluminescent with a red tint scanned over her, making her feel even more unsettled.

Slow and deliberate in her movements, Anais' right hand drifted down blindly behind her, feeling through wet plants as she crawled her hand along the ground, not taking her eyes off the huge beast for a second. Her fingers scattered wildly much as the spiders' legs had, crawling across the ground until she felt the smooth touch of her breastplate behind her. Tracing her fingers along the wet metal, she found a clasp at the middle of the backpiece. Crouched low and looking up with fear, she worked to unfasten it with one hand until it was loose. As it came free, her hand gripping firmly around the wooden shaft of her voulge. Right then, one of the monsterous spears of a leg raised up threateningly, and lunged through the air at her. She quickly threw her body to the side, muddy soil and plant life flew into the air as the hige stalk of a leg stabbed roughly into the ground.

Rolling to the side, she came to her feet, bringing the Vendetta up in front of her and grasping it with both hands, pointing it threateningly at the monster. To her side, she heard the flashy slap of hands clapping together, as the spider's master reeled back on his stump, roaring with laughter. Under the cover of the tree above him, the only water on him was tears rolling down his reddened cheeks as his words staggered out between laughs.

"You... haha... so you're finally... heh... scared of little old... he... Sweetie, here? Bwahaha!"

Anais looked at the moster with determination, the blade pointed out in front of her trailing a faint stream of water from the tip to the ground below.

[Lady Anais]

The huge spider raised both of it's front legs, two huge pikes looming in the air, and thrust them down through the rain at the woman warrior before it. Anais pivoted on one foot, turning from her right facing to her left as one leg narrowly grazed behind her, catching her wet clothes and pulling her with a jerk as it ripped the soaked fabric. The other leg landed just a few feet in front of her, but determined not to hesitate for a second, Lady Hieras drew the long handle of Vendetta up into the air in front of her. The head of the voulge hanging above her own for but a second. She swung hard, whipping water in an arc as she tried to cleave at the beast's head. The two attacking legs straightened out quickly, the hind legs tightening backwards as the huge thing lurched back away from the blade with surprising speed for its size. The blade sliced through the air to come down on nothing but the blackened mud of the burnt clearing.

It's legs moved frantically about as the creature repositioned itself, moving defensively. Anais continued to press, pulling the long wooden shaft back against her abdomen then thrusting forward with the mucky blade, aiming right for the arachnid's face. All eight legs straightened out instinctively, bringing the massive body of the spider into the air as the blade flew straight ahead into the air beneath it. In response, it quickly moved back again but raised a front leg again, sending it splitting the rain towards Anais.

Then a flash. Brilliant white of a flash is all Anais saw, but what she heard was far worse. The sickening sound of meat being tore into echoed in her ears. After the flash, blackness filled her sight for a second, then small dots of crisscrossing light filled her eyes. And down below, in her leg, it was like lightning, running out from mid-thigh up and down her leg. She felt muscles spasm wildly as they ripped, and the feeling like a bolt of fire burning in her leg. As the crisscrossing lights on blackness yielded to spots of light in her vision overlapping what her eyes should have seen, she instinctively looked down. Dropping her left hand from her weapon to her leg, pain leaping about inside wildly, her eyes saw the large stalk of the spider leg, connected to her own. At the roaring sea of pain where they connected, streaks of thick blood were bubbling up around the leg stalk and pooling with the rain, forming a light red stream running down her leg.

As the stars in her eyes finally fully went away, the pain still clouding her mind, she stood frozen in shock. The spear-like leg, still connected with hers at the top of the thigh, jutting out the back of her leg and down into the muddy earth. The pointed end in the mud trailing her blood. Had she not been frozen with shock or pain, she would have been pinned in place like a lepidopterist's prize moth. The arachnid's leg stood firmly, skewered right through her own. The lightning of pain shooting up and down her nerve endings finally reached her lungs, and in response, Anais threw her head back, mouth open to the falling rain.

Deep down, uncontrollably echoing out of a tongueless mouth, came a bellowing howl of anguish.

[Lady Anais]

Anais' fingers clutched at the air, shaking as if electricity we running through them. Her toes curled and wringled inside her boots. Her chest heaved rapidly as she drew in only a handful of air but exhaled a lungful with each breath, each exhale chased with a haunting whimper.

Some people have said when you think you're going to die, your entire life flashes before your eyes in a blink.

Blink

A scream echoes out, mixed with the sickening crack of leather. A streak of firey pain runs through Anais' back as the whip peels away a strip of skin.

Blink

A snide laugh is heard as her husband's headless body hits a polished marble floor.

Blink

A rotten, sweaty face looms in front of her, breath like pork laid out in the sun for a week. Her cheeks fill with pain as they are ground against her teeth inside the grasp of his hand. The serpentine voice saying "Fine... then we'll take your pretty little tongue. Then you boys can have whatever fun you want to with her, since she won't cooperate."

Blink

Raindrops. Water streamed down over green eyes turned black, barely having a second before it dried and evaporating into the downpour above. Strands of blonde hair -hung in front of her face -darkened to jet black, soaked hair rose up away from her head like serpents come to life. Beneath her, the crunchy green vegetation turned brown and black, mirroring the soil of the hollow in front of her. The shiny brown chitin of the spider's leg darkened to almost black around the wound and crackled as a web pattern of breaks split through it. Inside of her, the very gift that the old woman had told her about boiled through her already firey blood.

She didn't see the shocked look of the spider's master at her transformation. She didn't have to. The Aura of Spite is harrowing, downright frightening to anyone who hasn't seen it before. She didn't feel the rain after. As if nature itself was trying to get away from her rageful blessing, the drops split in the air above her and diverted away. Even amidst the pain, she could feel the spider struggling, connected to her. Trying to pull it's leg away. Even animal instinct knew. In a single crisp move, she brought her right arm up. Vendetta sliced cleanly through the massive leg impaling her own, cutting it off at the joint. The spider wretched away in pain and confusion. With a hard pull, the pointed end of the leg comes free of the mud. The stalk still hangs, jabbing through Anais' leg, but not longer connected to the ground. No longer connected to the spider.

And with the fires of rage burning through her, Vendetta pointed at the beast again as Anais labored through the pain and took a step forward.

[Lady Anais]

The disembodied spider's leg still skewered like a spear through Anais' left leg, she lurched forward, leaning heavily to the right with each step. Her injured leg, though still holding her up, dragged helplessly along beside her but did not stop her advance. Transluscent green ichor dripped from the wounded joint of the spider and it shrieked a monsterous cry of pain, the bleeding stump flailed n the air. Still, the creature was aware, and its remaining legs tensed as it eased it's body away from Anais.

With each step, the sound of Lady Hieras' boot stepping on dead plants mixed with the crunching sound of chitin as a few of the smaller spiders flattened out beneath her steps.

Cry havoc, and let loose the dogs of war! These words once heard and the source long since forgotten, echoed back and forth between Anais' ears like a worm digging into her brain. She raised the voulge with one hand, the large weapon poised again to try and cleave the beast. It was prepared to try to evade once more as she dragged her crippled leg up alongside her and stepped forward again with her good leg.

Crunch!

The sound of another spider being crushed underfoot didn't phase Anais, but the unexpectedly mournful howl off to the side drew her attention. Looking over, she saw the spider's master leap up from his stump, both hands raised into claws in the air. His face was contorted in horror and grief.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO! SWEETIE!"

Turning her attention back in front of her, she readied her swing against the-

The monster spider?

Looking in front of her, she saw nothing. The beast looming before her had seemingly vanished into thin air. Inside of her, the balance of rage and confusion tipped in favor of not understanding what was going on, and as suddenly as she had tapped into the fury for the Aura of Spite, it faded. She staggered back a step, gooey yellow and greek much stringing from beneath her boot to a crushed spider. Her injured leg buckled beneath her, dropping her to a knee. The pain was staggering, but as she reached down there was... also nothing. No disembodied leg. No open wound in her thigh. No blood. While the pain remained, there was nothing else to indicate any sort of injury.

Blond locks fell in front of Anais' face as her mind reeled. None of this made sense. The man, still crying like a widow, rushed over to the squashed body of the spider Anais had just stepped on.

"You horrible bitch! You'll pay for that! Oh, Sweetie..."

His face fell into the cariacture of a theater mask for tragedy as he cupped his hands gently around the spider's body. His greasy hair took on the rain, hanging in slimy strands in front of his face and he sat on his knees weeping. Staring at the man cupping the arachnid corpse woefully in his hands, it struck Anais.

His hands.

Her eyes went from his bare hands back to the stump perch he had sat upon. There at the foot of the stump sat his gloves. Limping towards the stump through the mud and decayed plants, Anais carefully reached down, grabbing them by the cuff. Looking carefully, she gripped the backside of one of the gloves in her hand and squeezed. Faint drops of milky liquid trailed out from the palm down the fingers, dripping off the fingertips.

It all made sense to her then. While Hromagh's gift had been tapped into and now abated, she still felt her natural anger drive her. Clutching the gloves in one hand and Vendetta in the other, she began to hobble back to the mourning ruffian. With each step, the pain from her imagined wound was fading, but it was still present enough to cause her to limp. Still, discretion or stealth was unnecessary. The man was oblivious to anything but his precious dead pet in his hands. She reached where he was as raindrops began to weaken but still came down on them both. Looming over him, the anger boiled in her.

Now it's your turn.

As she stood over him, the man looked up at her with tearful eyes of anger. In an instant Anais made a quick swing with her arm. With a faint "pap" of a sound, the palm of one of the gloves slapped across the man's cheek. Instantly his expression went from anger to abject horror.

"No... oh, no. What did you...?"

He was aware of the toxin he had coated his gloves in, and clawed at his face desperately. He quickly slammed his face down into the wet mud, rubbing harshly to try to get the chemical off his skin.

"No, no, no, no, no!" he whimpered desperately.

We'll see how you like a turn on in that funhouse ride.

Anais turned her attention from the man, going back to collect her armor. She meticulously began refastening each piece back into place on her body as the man began rolling on the ground. With each passing moment his cries and whimpers grew increasingly maddened as he writhed on the wet ground, shouting in fear.

[Lady Anais]

The man continued to shriek in terror as Anais hobbled along. She walked under the cover of the trees, but it was hardly needed as the rain had begun to drop it's last drops. Reaching the trees, Anais looked around, still confused. The old woman had been standing right here, but much as the spier had before, she had seemingly vanished into thin air. Anais grew frustrated, scouring the area with her eyes. It was then, about thirty yards away that she noticed the tattered brown burlap rags of the old woman's clothes slumped against a tree. Making her way over as quickly as she could, she tugged at the lumpy mass to turn it over, the old woman's face pale and her breathing shallow. She had two puncture marks on her neck, and a mixture of blood and transluscent green goo crept from the wound. Still, a smile was on the seer's face.

"You did well, deary."

I can't... how did this...

Despite her palor, the old woman had a warmth to her smile.

"Like I told you... N'jal's ilk would be watching. But don't worry your pretty head, dear. This was how it was supposed to be."

Anais quickly tried to get her hands up under the woman, to lift her, but as she put strain on her muscles, her left leg buckled again an sent her down on one knee.

We've got to get help...

"Oh, my... don't. You're in no shape for that. Even though the wound was in your head, the mind is a powerful weapon, and the pain it realizes is just as real as any injury inflicted. Still, like I already said, we've come this far and an old hag like me won't have the energy for the trip back. What's important is that you proved yourself against a beast, and more importantly, learned to overcome your own mind."

I don't understand.

"It will be some time before you do." the old woman's face contorted in pain as she let out a groan. "But I'm afraid you'll have to sort it out on your own. As studied as I am, as much as I can resist the N'jalian poision, I can only do so for a little while. You must listen to me, dear."

The old woman reached up, cupping a hand on Anais' left cheek.

"You still have to face the trial of man before you are ready. Go, find a challenge. Look in the Dansdel, look in the Citadel. But find another tied to the Thayne. Find one touched by the Old Gods and overcome them. That is the way."

Enough of this Thayne nonsense! We have to-

Anais' thoughts were interrupted by the old woman whispering a shush lightly, like a mother trying to comfort a tired infant.

"I know, I know. Indulge an old woman one last time. Find the challenge, overcome it. Then make your way to Kachuck. Seek Hromagh's followers there. If you still don't believe me, you can look at it as beating another of the heretic followers in the name of your Church. You can look at Alerar as a chance to disprove His influence once and for all. But..."

The old woman groaned in pain again.

"If even the smallest part of your shattered faith believes me, it is the chance to realize your destiny. To embrace a power you cannot comprehend. To rid the world of a great foe and bolster yourself enough to truly make your way home. Either you will continue to embrace a Church that has abandoned you and prove us all wrong... or you will take your place among an older power that will lift you up. But either way, you must... go forward."

The woman's eyes drifted shut. As her hand went limp and fell from Anais' cheek, a faint glow remained for but a second before fading. Anais stared at her, shaking her gently. No parting thoughts, no tears. Only the echoing in the distance of tortured cries of fear. With a stoic look, Anais put her hand on her aching leg and pushed herself up to her feet. Turning, she stepped away from the bundle of rags; a smile was still etched on the still, pale face of the old seer.

[Lady Anais]

There was a crunching among the trees, rapid as six bony legs tread into the overgrowth. The slick, greasy man rolling in his ruined suit didn't even take notice of the N'jalian Mage until it was standing over him.

"Thisssss hasss been a ssssurprissssing day...." the thing said, it's eerie voice- the sound of two voices as one- ushered forth.

It grabbed the flailing, horrified man with one arm, lifting him up in front of it. His legs dangled off the ground, kicking wildly as the elven features stared at him for a moment. The mage opened his mouth, two sharply pointed probscises unfolding from the corners of his mouth. The lunge at the man's throat was quick, and the venom worked just as quickly. Within seconds, the legs wildly pedalling through the air slowed, then came to a stop, hanging limply.

"Creating hallusssssscinationsssss.... a fear toxsssssssin. Unexssssssspected."

The Child of N'jal dropped the man's limp body atop the crushed body of his pet spider, and the hulking creature made his way out of the clearing towards the wood.

"And the Touched.. ssssssssparing hissssss life, choossssssing to punisssssh him, to make him ssssssuffer... I misssssssjudged her."

He had stepped carefully, each of his six legs much quiter than human steps, until he was standing over the seer's body.

"And you.... you never fail to impresssssss me, X'ki."

Beneath the tattered robes of the seer, stalks of movement, like her ribcage coming open stirred. Her lower body swelled as six spidery legs unfolded from inside the rags. Her wrinkled hanging skin tightened into elven features.

"She's an easy target in this state, Tyktrul. She's confused, her mind fragmented. She doesn't know herself, she doesn't even know what she believes anymore. Fragile minds take to Suggestion easily. But she is on the first steps. Once she comes to embrace what she is, her mind will be stronger. By then, my magics won't be able to affect her."

The female N'jalian mage, no longer hidden in her shapeshift, stood firmly, stretching out her upper torso with arms raised above her head.

"You are ssssssure that ssssssshe did not ssssssee your decsssssseption?" The male said as he stalked around the female mage, looking off into the distance where Anais had walked.

"Of course not. If she can't even tell who she is or the world around her, she certainly wouldn't see through my glamour. And besides, with the seed my suggestion planted, by the time she would be any threat to us, everything will be in place." The female Child of N'jal calmly replied.

"We could ssssssstill jussssssst kill her..."

"Nonsense. The Servant was very clear about our orders, Tyktrul. We will wait. When she champions Hromagh, the Servant herself will kill her. It will be a definitive blow by N'jal showing that headstrong brother of hers what a folley it was to imprison her. A victory on Al'Thayne carries just as much strength as one in Bakh’Thayne would. A symbolic victory can rip worlds apart, if the right symbol is used. Besides..."

K'xi took up place next to her male counterpart, staring into the distance.

"With a bit of luck, she will find others who are Touched, and all of the Thayne will be able to share in the punishment from our master's hand."


Spoils:

Tainted Glove: (whoooooa oh, don't touch me, baby, tainted (g)love... oops sorry. Couldn't resist)
-A black velour (wool quality) glove with a thin leather lining. The palm of the glove is coated with a neurotoxin that is absorbed through the skin. This toxin affects the part of the mind associated with fear, and often leads to hallucinations. The nature and extent of the affect is dependent on the person affected, and can range from something as innocuous as making something appear more dangerous than it really is all the way up to manifesting their deepest fears. This effect can be resisted with poison resistance as well as resistances to mind-altering effects.

Mark of the N'jalian Foe
-Anais now bears a (usually invisible) glyph marked on her left cheek- in ancient text it is a compound glyph meaning "Rejoice, O Al'Thayne". This magical mark is typically only able to be seen by those attuned to N'jal: her worshippers and the N'jalian Magi. However, when Anais uses Aura of Spite, the mark is able to be seen by anyone, but it will be rare that anyone aside from N'jal's followers will understand it. The mark identifies her as an enemy of N'jal, and will affect those who can see and understand it accordingly

[Yari Rafanas]

The Road Home: Seers and Spiders

Story: 5/10
Prior to reading this thread, I gave your profile the once over for a bit of background on your character. A quick search for your threads turned up with nothing really having been completed, so I wanted a bit of information before jumping right in. Turns out, this was the perfect intro thread for Anais. Your first post gave the history of the character and then your “Blinks” into your past helped solidify it. I would have scored this higher if I felt something more came from the thread other than the introduction to Anais and the start of what will probably be a great handful of threads involving the N'jal.

Continuity: 9/10
Your character is rich with Althanas lore already and is taking into account Featured Quests, religious themes, and other established canon for this world. I like to see the site's ideas embraced and embodied in a thread.

Setting: 6/10
While having the N'Jalian encounter take place in Concordia was appropriate, I had mixed feelings about the setting. You described the Dansdel crowds and the burnt clearing wonderfully, but I couldn't help but get a bit irritated at the re-use of words describing these places. I think I read the word “crunchy” a half-dozen times and always in the same context. I appreciate being reminded about the vegetation but you might want to mix things up a bit with how you describe it.

Creativity: 7/10
Overall, I would say you had creative ideas here and I was hardly bored with what you were selling me in each post.

Character: 7/10
Based on the history of the account, I can't tell if Anais is a well-thought out Alternate character or the start of something new for a skilled player. Either way, I really hope to see her grow and put to use in threads to come. I wish there was more use of her as a “mute” character in this thread, and I was a bit disappointed that mind-reading conversation was so abundant.

Interaction: 6/10

Strategy: 7 /10
Your battle with Sweetie was great. Combining the fun and well-paced action here with the revelation on what was really happening made me a happy reader.

Clarity: 8 /10
The beginning of your thread had some jarring elements to the writing that had me reading over a few lines, but it seemed once you got into the meat of things it was really easy to just read through this at a nice pace.

Mechanics: 7/10

Wildcard: 5/10
Thank you for giving me an interesting and cool thread to read for my return to judging. I really liked the hints you dropped earlier (sweaty gloves turning out to be toxin-coated) and how everything played out. Overall, though, the thread is kind of your standard solo. I want to see something a bit larger out of Anais, and with more people involved.

Total Score: 67

Spoils
Lady Anais gains the following. Both are subject to future Realm of Greeting approval:

Mark of the N'jalian Foe
-Anais now bears a (usually invisible) glyph marked on her left cheek- in ancient text it is a compound glyph meaning "Rejoice, O Al'Thayne". This magical mark is typically only able to be seen by those attuned to N'jal: her worshippers and the N'jalian Magi. However, when Anais uses Aura of Spite, the mark is able to be seen by anyone, but it will be rare that anyone aside from N'jal's followers will understand it. The mark identifies her as an enemy of N'jal, and will affect those who can see and understand it accordingly

Tainted Glove:
-A black velour (wool quality) glove with a thin leather lining. The palm of the glove is coated with a neurotoxin that is absorbed through the skin. This toxin affects the part of the mind associated with fear, and often leads to hallucinations. The nature and extent of the affect is dependent on the person affected, and can range from something as innocuous as making something appear more dangerous than it really is all the way up to manifesting their deepest fears. This effect can be resisted with poison resistance as well as resistances to mind-altering effects.

Lady Anais gains 971 EXP

[Silence Sei]

Exp-GP Added.

Half way there.