Interrupting his soliloquy, a small entourage of spider-beings leaned their heads over the pit.

"Invader, the great Matriarch Nyxoria has agreed to an audience, in spite of the counsel of her advisors. Be grateful and start walking. Dust off those clothes, lest you sully the Royal Palace as well," said one of them through its clicking mandibles.

The haughtiness of these insects was starting to get on Rivel's nerves, but he just made an sarcastic smile and kept his composure. He stood up and brushed the dirt off, then, after waiting a few moments for the arachnids to throw him a stair or a rope, or any gesture of consideration, he simply climbed the vertical walls by burying his hands into the rock through sheer force.

Once up, he tilted his head a little, brushing the dust off again. In a spiteful tone full of mockery, he motioned to them: "Gentlemen? Shall we?"

One of the soldiers, or paladins, whatever they were, acknowledged the gesture and started walking towards the city again.

Rivel stopped at the entrance, contemplating the cascading cobwebs in front of the palace doors, blocking the ever-present dust of the caves. The deteriorated carvings on the graystone walls spoke of a time long past when arts and culture had flourished, now most of them unrecognizable. Rivel supposed that powder frosting in the mausoleum must have done wonders at preserving the artworks. As the entourage pushed him inside, a smell of exotic flowers wafted his way.

He looked towards the corners of the room and spotted the place where the perfume originated from—a blueish pale light irradiated from them. Their stems had little white tendrils that flailed around, despite the lack of wind, and their delicate blossoms shied in a protective husk, indecisive whether to expose themselves to pollination or not. It was a rare breed, perhaps exclusively subterranean.

At the very back of the room, a gigantic arachnid of proportions so difficult to assess that her body seemed to fuse with the vaulted ceilings, and her many legs functioned as columns to the structure. On top of her head lay a crown of bones, and eggs were arranged on both her left and right. Their white, waxy aspect was sometimes interrupted by something moving inside, making them bulge and flatten in a disgusting marvel of biology.

The Queen didn't directly address Rivel. Instead, a very small black spider did so.

"The Queen has decided to accept your request and listen to your proposals, outsider. Make your sentences clear, and do not try to deceive us, lest your tongue fall off your mouth straight into our platter."

Rivel smiled and shook his head at the poor attempt at bravado that the tiny being professed.

"What an aggressive way to start a conversation. Let's do it differently, shall we? In the lands where I come from, it's customary for speakers to introduce one another. I am High Magus Rivel, counselor of the late King of Erebus, city of the Tenebri. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Queen Nyxoria. I'm marveled by the ingenuity of the architecture and designs of your race. May I ask how you call yourselves?"

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

The queen shuffled on her feet and seemed about to address him, but the little being intervened again. 'Is this guy going to be a nuisance?' Rivel thought, irritated.

"We are the Silkborne, outsider. How dare you step into our territories without even knowing how to address us? How did you trespass into our necropolis undetected?"

Rivel didn't even look at the tiny spider. "Silkborne! What a poetic name. You remind me of a certain group in my hometown, called the 'flesh weavers,' though their practices could use a bit of your artistic sense. Is the battle I saw depicted on your murals metaphorical or does it have something to do with the location of the mausoleum?"

"Outsider! Stop dallying!" The small spider pointed its blue stripped legs towards him threateningly. "You've been warned against this. Are you trying to fish information to relay to your war quarters? Well, you chose the wrong kind to mess with! We will not be trifled with!"

A booming voice stopped the guards looming over Rivel, just in time, since any later could have had catastrophic diplomatic repercussions. The voice was strangely velvety and deep, clearly feminine and without clicking noises or insect traces, something Rivel didn't quite understand. 'I need to dissect one of them as soon as possible...'

"Arkyne, my king. That's enough. The outsider comes with peace, and I sense an aura of danger coming from him. Had he wanted battle, he'd have gotten plenty. Speak, little one. What brings you to the deepest recesses of my cave? Surely not sightseeing."

Rivel stopped his train of thoughts and chuckled.

"Certainly not. Although it was a pleasant surprise. It's difficult, murky times in my homeland; our king has come to pass, and we're at the brink of war with an enemy nation. Before that, we need to settle some internal disputes, which is partly why I'm here. If my queen is so kind as to provide me assistance to defeat my political opponent, I would do my utmost to bring glory and prosperity to the Silkborne. No longer shall any Silkborne's territory be trespassed, nor any family be forced to pick whose life is more valuable. What say you, my queen?"

"You speak very grandly for a man whose counsel brought his king to an early grave."

"While it's true that there's turmoil in my homeland, I assure you the late King's fate had nothing to do with my counsel, nor did his passing come a second earlier than it should have."

"This still doesn't clear any questions, outsider. How do you intend to fulfill all these promises? Are you going to drag your backers into our village to fight on our behalf? Or perhaps do you intend to single-handedly solve our every problem?"

Arkyne smirked at the Queen's doubtful tone. It was time to up the game. Rivel rose both hands.

"My queen, this very day, with your avail, I'll bring enough food for every Silkborne to feast, only with a few ingredients and a willing, umm, participant. Through my skills as High Magus, I'll prove to you that Rivel doesn't hold any Silkborne hostage, and that the wellbeing of his allies are top of the priority list. I will have no demands, other than the supply of the necessary implements for my magic. If even one..."

The queen laughed out loud at this statement, she had never seen any of this "magic" before, and legends spoke only of fire-flinging monsters, never of food-summoning ones. If the outsider had a death wish, she wouldn't be the one to stop him.

"Arkyne, see that this Rivel fellow comes through with his word, supply him to the best of our ability, and let me know before he attempts his 'magic.' When that time comes, all my subjects and myself shall witness his failure, and he'll have no escape from his promises."

Rivel smiled, "Thanks for the confidence, my queen."