Jeanne stood frozen in shock for a long moment after the spider dropped on her. She had only survived her indecision and terror because of the distraction caused by the goblin‘s sudden appearance.
The goblin was young, barely full-grown, and no more than five feet tall, He had pallid, grey-green skin and long, black hair flopping down his narrow face, partially obscuring his glowing, mustard eyes. His frame was scrawny, and compared to the enormous spider, he was merely puny. Despite this obvious mismatch, the goblin had continued to fight, driving his spike deep into the side of the creature. Ichor gushed from the gouges torn in the spider’s flank, and she began to believe his courage would save them both. Then the harsh reality of life had asserted itself, and he had been thrown crumpled to the floor.
She was brought back to the present by the sound of the spider‘s bulk dragging around as it turned to face her. The huge, monstrous creature was dragging several limp legs. Its injuries impeded its progress, and ichor still flowed from where the stranger‘s stone spike was embedded in its carapace.
Huge fangs clicked angrily, and its shiny, black body gleamed in the dim light as unblinking, alien eyes glared at her with the promise of violence.
Terrified, Jeanne slowly backed away as it moved towards her. Farther and farther she scurried back, wondering why it was advancing so slowly. Was it playing with her in the way a cat toys with its prey?
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Jeanne slammed hard against a stone surface. Glancing behind her, it became evident that she had retreated to the very wall of the cavern and, there was nowhere left to run. She looked back, and the spider was still edging its way towards her, its mandibles clicking menacingly.
The murderous advance became slower and slower, the clicking erratic and less frenzied. Then, all at once, the spider collapsed in on itself. Curling into a ball as it died, looking like an oversized house spider.
Though shocked, she resisted sinking to the floor, determined not to fall apart. Blinking back tears, she steeled her nerves before moving forwards past its corpse.
As she did so, she mumbled a quiet mantra, ‘My name is Jeanne. I am a priestess of Minerva, an example to others and a light in the world.‘
Her previous life of quiet contemplation in the temple may be no more, and she definitely wasn‘t the innocent girl who was forced away from her temple a few days ago. Yet she was still a priestess. It was time to rise above the situation and do Minerva’s will.
Conflicted, she looked down at the goblin who had fought the spider. A small, green-skinned humanoid with an angular, unpleasant face and sharp, feral teeth. Her education in the temple had warned her that they were very unpleasant, vengeful creatures with no mercy in them.
Yet this one had undoubtedly saved her life with its actions, and according to Minerva‘s teachings, it would be wrong not to help it.
Reaching down, she checked his neck for signs of life.
Yes, there it was, a feeble pulse. The spark of life remained. If Minerva willed it, the goddess could revive him.
Kneeling, she began to pray with all her heart.