Merlin TV Universe, Darkling Woods
Time: Year 1, Month 9, Day 28
Current Celestial Points: 0
Celestial Points Gathered (This Year): 1000/1000
Monthly Roll: 1/1
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Amara anchored herself at the heart of the web nexus, her eight legs splayed across silk-strung oak branches. The lattice pulsed with the colony’s activity - vibrations signaling hunts, repairs, and the restless stirring of captive humans in their cocoons. Her spinnerets twitched reflexively, mapping the rhythms of her territory. Liberation, she thought, flexing chitinous plates that had cramped for many months inside human skin.
Two tiers below, Adrian crouched over a half-eaten stag, his carapace already rivaling some of his older siblings in size. At two weeks old, his horns had hardened into serrated curves, and his chelicerae - still flecked with marrow - clicked in a disjointed rhythm as he dissected the carcass. A human femur snapped between his forelegs, its splinters woven into the web as reinforcement.
Three senior hunters approached along the eastern silkway, their boar-bristled legs leaving faint tremors in the strands. The lead hunter halted precisely four body lengths from Amara, spiracles hissing a greeting. "Great Mother," she clicked, forelegs sketching a tactical map in the air. "The northern woods’ Griffin weakens the colony. Its territory overlaps ours. We propose a joint strike."
Amara’s pedipalps stroked the silk, parsing vibrations from the hunting grounds. Deer carcasses grew sparse, their blood trails thinning. Expansion or starvation. Her offspring’s unexpected size strained the forest’s limits - Adrian alone consumed half a stag every two weeks. "The Griffin’s health?" she clicked, mandibles parting to taste the wind.
"Perfect," the hunter replied. "But we can lure it to the ravine. Silk-nets to ground it. Then…" A jerk of her abdomen - venom.
Adrian skittered upward. "Let me lead the ambush," he pulsed, new vocal sacs swelling with authority. "My human disguise can bait it. A wounded traveler, screaming…" His chelicerae twitched into a mock grimace.
One of her older children bristled, horns tilting skeptically. "You lack molt-hardening, hatchling. One misstep—"
"—Would teach more than a thousand successes," Adrian interrupted, silk spraying from his spinnerets to bind a stray branch. The strands glistened with pheromones - confidence. "Once our Great Mother breeds with the Griffin, our territory could be gifted with a brood of greater size, durability and aerial tactics. Imagine web-nests in cliff faces. Prey fleeing skyward, only to…" His forelegs snapped shut, miming a kill.
Amara’s spinnerets tingled. Ambition. Adrian’s mutations had birthed not just strength, but foresight. Yet his carapace still softened at the joints, vulnerable. "Learn from your siblings first," she decided. "Then lead."
Adrian's POV
The breeding chamber stank of human sweat and venom. Cocooned humans dangled from the ceiling, their muffled whimpers vibrating through silk strands. Adrian crouched beside his sibling - a female twice his size with patchy boar bristles matting her carapace. Her human disguise changed at regular intervals: one moment a freckled woman with straw-colored hair, the next a spider-thing with black eyes.
"Watch," Silara clicked, mandibles parting to release Thomas from a nearby cocoon. The man hung upside-down, face purple from blood pooling. His screams had grown hoarse over days of practice. "Observe the throat vibrations. Note the pitch variance between terror and despair."
Thomas thrashed as Silara’s barbed leg sliced his forearm. "Please! No more—!"
Adrian’s chelicerae twitched, recording the way human vocal cords strained. Fear sharpens the "e" sounds, he noted. Silara dragged another claw down Thomas’s chest, slowly peeling skin.
"AAAAAH! GOD, STOP—!"
Deeper resonance on "stop" - diaphragm contraction.
Silara released Thomas, letting him gasp. "Now you. Human skin first - remember the jaw hinge."
Adrian flexed his spinnerets. Kitsune Wear was summoned from his subspace pocket - a torn tunic and breeches appearing over his fair skin as the disguise took hold. Green eyes widened artificially, muscles tensing in a flawless mimicry of human terror.
His vocal chords flexed, mimicking the vibrations. "P-please," he stammered. "D-don’t hurt me!"
Another sibling scuttled forward. "Eyes wrong. Humans leak water when afraid."
Adrian’s disguise obediently produced tears. He let saliva drip from the corner of his mouth, shoulders hunching. "Please… no, not the eggs! Don’t make me eat them again—!"
Silara’s horns tilted critically. "Convincing whimper. Now escalate."
Thomas’s screams hit a fever pitch as Silara jabbed her stinger near his groin. "NO! NO, PLEASE—!"
Adrian’s mouth gaped open, replicating the raw, wet shriek. "HELP! SOMEONE HELP—!" The sound echoed through the chamber, startling even the seasoned hunters monitoring from silk perches.
Silara’s spinnerets twitched approval. "Laughter after. Prey mocks itself to deny fear."
Thomas’s cries dissolved into hysterical giggles as venom seeped into his veins. "Sh-she’s in my head… Amara… laughing, always laughing—"
Adrian clicked his tongue, dissecting the unstable cadence. He let his human disguise melt just enough to reveal fangs, then barked a jagged laugh. "Haa! Haa! You thought you could beat her?" The hybrid sound - half human mockery, half spiderish chitter - made Thomas piss himself.
First Hunt
Moonlight speckled the forest floor. Adrian crouched in human disguise, wearing a torn traveler’s tunic. A stag grazed ahead, antlers glinting. Wind direction: southwest. Heartbeat: regular. Fear-scent: nil.
He clutched his "wounded" leg - a convincing ruse, thanks to Silara’s training. "Help…" he whimpered, voice trembling. The stag’s head snapped up.
Adrian let tears fall. "Please…"
The stag approached, nostrils flaring. Five meters. Three.
Adrian’s spinnerets twitched. Silk threads shot from his sleeves, anchoring to birch trees. The stag reared as webs snapped taut around its hooves.
Now.
Adrian shed his disguise fully, carapace glinting black. Bullet Patterns ignited - spectral mandibles appearing midair, snapping at the stag’s soul. The beast screamed, thrashing as its resolve frayed.
"Mine," Adrian pulsed.
He lunged, fangs piercing the stag’s neck. Venom liquefied muscle within seconds. The kill was clean. Efficient.
Silara skittered out from shadowed ferns, legs applauding. "The Great Mother’s gifts serve you well. But the Griffin’s wings…" She flexed her own barbed limbs. "...require subtler lies."
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The Griffin Hunt
Adrian’s human disguise bled just so - a precise trickle from the temple staining his torn tunic. His limp favored the left leg, tendons artificially strained to mimic a traveler mauled by bandits. The ravine walls was above him, pockmarked with silk anchors where his siblings clung motionless, their carapaces dulled to match the granite.
Wind shifts east. Griffin’s musk detected: ozone and rotting eagle feathers. Nest proximity: 200 meters.
He let his "injured" leg buckle, collapsing against a lichen-crusted boulder. "H-help!" The cry quavered, throat bobbing with manufactured panic. "Someone - please!"
Above, wings snapped like war banners. Adrian counted the Griffin’s wingbeats - seven before it banked, talons scoring the cliffside. Molten gold eyes locked onto him.
The beast landed with a thunderclap of displaced air, lion claws gouging furrows in the soil. Adrian’s disguise prickled with sweat, pores exuding scents harvested from terrified humans.
"Bandits…" he rasped, crawling backward. "T-they took everything—"
The Griffin’s beak snapped, shearing a sapling in half. Hot breath reeked of charred flesh - recent kill: boar, male, six months old. Adrian’s spinnerets tingled.
Three meters. Two.
The first silk net struck hard, weighted with boulders taken from a nearby field. It draped over the Griffin’s wings, threads imbued with paralytic venom.
Success?
The silk net held, but the Griffin's muscles barely tensed from the venom coating. Its golden eyes blazed with contempt as talons shredded through reinforced strands like paper.
Three hunters dropped from above, their stingers plunging deep into the Griffin's haunches. Toxins that could dissolve a boar's bones in minutes merely beaded on magical feathers. The beast's wing swept out, catching the smallest hunter mid-leap. Chitin cracked like pottery against granite. The spider's death-clicks echoed through the ravine - a warning frequency that set Adrian's spinnerets trembling.
"Regroup!" Adrian's human disguise melted away as he skittered backward. The Griffin's magical nature seemed to render conventional attacks useless. Even as more siblings glided down on silk lines, their fangs and stingers might as well have been striking stone.
The Griffin's beak snapped through another hunter, spattering ichor across lichen. No time for analysis. Adrian's chelicerae clicked rapid commands: "Fall back! Reform defense pattern three!"
His surviving siblings retreated in waves, leaving silk tripwires in their wake. The Griffin charged through them all.
Adrian's legs splayed across the ravine wall as falling stones clattered around him. The Griffin's roar vibrated through his carapace, making his spinnerets quiver. Eight eyes tracked the beast's movements - primary pair focused on its beak, secondary pairs monitoring wing positions, peripheral vision scanning for exposed weaknesses.
Silk strands trembled with death-signals from his siblings. Three more hunters fell, their legs curling inward as the Griffin's talons shredded through their bodies. The beast's golden eyes blazed with fury, magical protection deflecting venom and physical attacks alike.
"Soul-strike formation!" Adrian's chelicerae clicked rapid commands. His remaining siblings - fifteen now, down from twenty-two - skittered into position. Those without soul magic would serve as distractions.
The Griffin's wings swept outward, span wider than three horses. Adrian's spinnerets released anchor threads, letting him drop to a lower ledge. Wind from the beast's wings buffeted his carapace, but he managed to hold on.
Two siblings darted forward, their boar-bristled legs scraping stone. The Griffin's beak snapped shut inches from the first hunter's head. The second managed to sink fangs into its shoulder, but might as well have tried biting granite.
Crack
The Griffin's wing crushed another sibling against the ravine wall. Ichor sprayed across lichen as the spider's legs twitched their final signals: Breach... attempted... failed...
Adrian's chelicerae spread wide. Spectral mandibles shot at the Griffin, snapping at its soul. The beast screamed - not physical pain, but something deeper. Its magical protection meant nothing against attacks targeting its very essence.
Three more siblings used their own soul magic gift from the Great Mother. Ghostly fangs, demon horns and stingers tore at the Griffin's spirit while physical bodies served as targets. The beast thrashed, crushing two more hunters beneath its lion paws. But its movements grew erratic as soul-wounds accumulated.
"Press harder," Adrian commanded through leg-signals. He saw subtle changes in the beast - the Griffin's eyes dulled slightly. Each soul attack fractured its soul further.
Another sibling died, spine snapped by the Griffin's tail. The death-clicks carried tactical data: Wing joint... exposed... when turning...
His remaining siblings coordinated through silk vibrations, positioning themselves at different angles. The Griffin couldn't defend against attacks from all directions.
Adrian's pedipalps tasted blood in the air - both Griffin and spider mixing into a bitter cocktail. A sibling to his left clicked rapid coordinates through the silk network. The ravine walls amplified every sound: talons scraping stone, wings beating air, dying spiders releasing final clicks.
Eight eyes tracked movement above as another sibling launched from an overhang. The Griffin's beak snapped upward, but spectral mandibles tore into its soul while physical fangs missed completely. The beast stumbled, golden eyes flickering like dying embers.
"North face clear," leg-signals rippled through surviving hunters. "Strike formation."
Four siblings skittered across granite, leaving silk trails that gleamed in the sunlight. The Griffin's head whipped between targets, soul-wounds rapidly accumulating. A wing swept out, crushing one hunter against jagged rock. The death-clicks carried vital information: Soul fractures... turning physical... from wing joint...
Adrian's spinnerets released rapid signals through the silk network. Soul fracture detected. Wing joint vulnerable. Physical attacks now possible.
The remaining boar-gene siblings absorbed this information through leg contact with the silk strands. Eight pairs of bristled legs tensed against granite. These hunters carried the strength of wild boars in their genes - thick carapaces meant for charging, mandibles designed to crush bone.
The Griffin's golden eyes flickered between targets, magical protection wavering around the wounded wing joint. Cracks spread through its magical defense like humans losing their will from breeding. Each soul-wound left behind by spectral mandibles created new weak points.
Three boar-gene hunters launched forward, bristled legs scraping furrows in the rock. The Griffin's beak snapped at the first, but the spider twisted mid-leap, allowing the second hunter to sink fangs into the exposed wing joint. Mammal blood sprayed this time - not just ichor.
The beast screamed, wing thrashing. The third hunter's mandibles crunched through feathers and muscle, venom flooding the wound. Magical protection crumbled around the injury, rapidly spreading outward.
Adrian's chelicerae spread wide, launching another barrage of spectral mandibles. The soul-strikes tore deeper now, finding purchase in the Griffin's weakened defenses. More cracks appeared in the beast's golden eyes.
A wing sweep crushed one boar-gene sibling against the ravine wall. The death-clicks came slower this time: Venom... working... keep striking...
The remaining hunters coordinated through silk vibrations. Two distracted the Griffin's beak while another charged its wounded flank. Bristled legs gouged bloody furrows across the beast's side. Magic sparked and fizzled, unable to repel physical attacks as the soul continued fracturing.
Adrian's pedipalps tasted victory in the air. The beast's movements grew sluggish as venom spread through its system. Each soul-strike widened the cracks in its spiritual defense.
Press attack. No mercy. The commands rippled through silk strands. Adrian's remaining siblings understood - this was not about clean kills or preserved breeding stock. The Griffin's soul would shatter, but the body would impregnate the Great Mother just fine.
Two more hunters died beneath lion claws, but the death-clicks carried no regret. Each sacrifice exposed new weaknesses, every drop of ichor paid for in Griffin blood. The beast's roars grew weaker, golden eyes dulling as soul-wounds accumulated.
Adrian launched the final assault, spectral mandibles tearing through what remained of the Griffin's spiritual protection. The beast's soul shattered, leaving behind an empty vessel wrapped in failing magic.
Adrian's legs scraped against granite as he looked at the aftermath. Of thirty hunters who began the assault, only seven remained standing. Four boar-gene siblings still drew breath, while three others capable of soul-strikes had survived by staying out of the Griffin's physical reach.
The ravine walls were a mess - ichor stained the rocks in thick streams, broken legs and shattered carapaces scattered across ledges. Adrian's chelicerae clicked a command, and the survivors began gathering the remains of fallen siblings.
No part would go to waste. Broken chitin would reinforce web structures. Intact spinnerets would produce silk for egg sacs. Even the ichor could be processed into venom enhancers.
The Griffin lay bound in layers of silk, chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. Magic still sparked weakly around its wounds, but the soul-fractures had spread through its entire being. The beast's eyes stared at nothing.
"Prepare for transport," Adrian clicked to his siblings. The boar-gene hunters positioned themselves around the Griffin, bristled legs digging into stone for leverage. More silk strands wrapped around the creature's limbs, creating a network of anchor points.
A hunter with the soul-strike gift approached Adrian, mandibles working in agitation. "Twenty-three dead for one breeding stock." The spider's horns tilted forward, expressing displeasure at the unprecedented cost.
Adrian's pedipalps brushed against silk strands, reading the vibrations of the surviving group. "The Great Mother will spawn just as many from one breeding session with this capture. Our siblings' deaths ensure the colony's growth."
The hunter's legs shifted in acknowledgment. Spider-things measured success in offspring produced, not lives preserved. The Griffin's magical genes would strengthen future generations far beyond what twenty-three deaths could diminish.
Silk lines snapped taut as the survivors began moving the Griffin. The beast offered no resistance - just dead eyes and shallow breathing. Adrian's eight eyes tracked every movement, watching for signs of recovery. But the soul-fractures had done thorough work. Nothing remained of the proud creature that had ruled these skies.