Blood and darkness. An endless cycle of blood and darkness. Galliard had no idea how long he had been here, in the dark. Even giving himself night vision didn’t help, with no light to reflect. Illuminating his surroundings had been a mistake he’d made but once. The swarm of horrors that had come as a result had not been worth the advantage of sight. His magical sight had been the only thing that kept him from being completely unseeing.
With a grunt, the heir of Wrath pulled a spike of stone out of his side. The armour that would have normally protected against the blow sundered. A flex of his magic sealed the rent, though it would be weaker, it was more acceptable than leaving the flesh exposed. He’d learned the hard way when the Shadespikes, small leech-like oddities, had begun feeding on his shins through his cracked sabatons.
For a moment, Galliard wondered if this was how it was for the mermaids in the deepest of places. Down in the depths with monsters unseen from above no matter how hard one looked. There were truly dreadful things in the depths, out of sight from the rest of the world. Ancient and terrible things that even the Blessed were wary of. He wondered, briefly, if there was a reason for places like these. In the darkest depths of the world were most feared to go. Maybe there was a reason for their presence within the world, as prisons, or as tombs.
The nuzzle of his companion drew him from his thoughts, causing him to reach down to pet between her ears idly. Kalama had grown explosively in the time they had been here. The young prince was unsure if it was the constant fighting, her consuming the flesh of monsters or his near-constant use of magic. Whatever the reason the hound had become a far more threatening presence. Through his magical sight, she made for a striking figure. Her teeth and claws had claimed the lives of more than a few monstrosities, and her growth showed no signs of stopping.
The choker in his possession was growing warmer now, a sign that it was reaching its limit. The souls contained within would be ready to harvest soon. Honestly, he would be glad to be out of this place, he’d been yanked off his feet by enough tendrils to last him a lifetime. Why everything down here had some form of extended limb or grasping tentacle was beyond him, but he was truly sick of it. The experience gained in fighting and navigating in the dark be damned.
Lifting his hand from his familiar, which caused her to wine at the loss, he strode deeper into the blackness. Small ratlike creatures scurried away from the lordling as quickly as they could. The tiny scavengers likely realised he was too powerful for them to kill even together. Yet one did not flee from the scion of Wrath, through no fault of its own, it seemed stuck on some kind of ethereal strand. Curious, Galliard halted in his travels to track the slim thread. The fact the thin thread was magical made it even more intriguing to him. That level of control suggested either an extremely powerful monster or an intelligent being.
Though he knew he had been down here for less than a month now. He spent what felt like years in this place battling, or avoiding, all manners of abominations. He was not foolhardy enough to think he could slay every monster he came across, at least, not when he had first arrived. Though he was far stronger than most beings in this accursed place, he had no illusions that he was the most dangerous thing in this scar upon Xendrada. Now it would seem he was also not the only intelligent being in this canyon.
A flex of his magic veins cloaked his presence from the world around him, a simple spell that many children of the clans learned in their youth. Galliard watched a many-legged being crawl out from beneath the earth. Eight strong legs bring it to the trapped prey, moving far more swiftly than its considerable size would imply. It was at least three times his height and wider than a full-grown Gacklo. A blade came down, killing the small scavenger with rehearsed ease. The being encased the bleeding mammal in a silken tomb with a series of intricate gestures, reminding Galliard of a seamstress.
The large Arachne placed the cat-sized rodent onto her abdomen, the thread hooking around her waist to secure her bounty. He had not found them appetising, personally, though he was a visitor in this place. Perhaps he had not used the right recipe, should he ask her for tips on giant rat cooking? A dry chuckle left the heir of Wrath’s lips at that, the sound swallowed by the magics enveloping his form.
The spiderkin looked around one last time, searching for hidden threats, before scurrying back to her hole as quickly as she came. Galliard watched as mystic thread emerged from the hidden entrance, the trap reset in short order. Effective, if uncomplicated in design, but the Arachne’s traps weren’t what interested him per se. The fact that a mortal, however designed to live in such environments as they were, survived here was interesting. Were there more of the lesser beings, hidden away somewhere? Perhaps he would pause the endless butchery and see where this new path guides.
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It had been a good day so far, a dozen catches and not a single battle against the more dangerous terrors of the deep. The Great Mother must have been watching over her this day, she thought. Her legs blurred through the tunnels back to the main chamber. The tunnels were as dark as ever, only her years of travelling these passages and her natural senses kept her from taking a wrong turn. She wondered briefly if the other hunters were doing so well, before discarding the thought. Worrying would do nothing good, she would see the results of the hunts in due time.
Breaching the tunnel she let out a sigh of relief, the light of the luminous moss greeting her with a warm purple glow. The faint light gave her the gift of sight, however slight, once again. Placing the bundle on her abdomen down into the large pile she had created, previous catches of the day, she tied it together quickly. Thinking it best to leave now before something stronger than she took interest in her and began to track her.
The woman spun a thread from her spinneret, her head swerving back and forth in search of intruders. The silken cord was attached in short order, the large spiderkin taking off a moment later with her quarry in tow. Her heart lifted as she got closer to her home, maybe her little sisters would yet be awake. They would be excited to see her after she had left during their slumber. A small smile split her face, fangs glinting in the growing light, a city soon came into view before her. The city of Aleton was a shining beacon in this dark place and the sight of it never failed to lift her spirits.
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Skittering down the cliff overlooking her home found herself before the massive gates of her home. Two familiar-looking guards stood at attention at the open gates, their many eyes scanning the area behind her for any pursuers. Once they saw she was alone however they relaxed, one even taking a hand off his halberd to wave.
“Hail, hunter, good haul today.” The man spoke in a scratchy voice, halting the trapper.
“Hail Watcher, the Great Mother has blessed me with good fortune this day.” The woman puffed up in pride at her work.
“A couple of the other hunters came through here earlier, headed out I mean,” The man paused to scan the area again, “ Said something about a mass of monster carcasses to the west, did you see anything dangerous out there while you were out Azu?” The Watcher asked interested.
“I…no nothing that would be strong enough to be of worry, I would have fled, if there had been.” The hunter, Azu, shook her head in the negative.
“Well if you see anything strange out there be sure to report back, no heroics ya hear!” The other guard patted her on the back, chuckling when she glared at him for jostling her catch.
“You two, I swear…” Azu rolled her eyes at them, getting a chuckle from both.
“Say hi to the little ones for me.” The guard waved her through, returning to his duty.
“I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to hear from their uncle Sizz…” The woman flashed her fangs at him, as she walked past, barely holding her laugh as he sputtered in indignation.
“It’s Sizzala damn it!” His face went red as his fellow guard chortled at him.
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“Interesting, I don’t believe this city has been documented on our maps.” Galliard thought back to all he knew of the Canyon of Refinement from the maps he was shown, none had marked down the city of spiderkin.
Galliard knew he was not the only member of the Masks to come to this place for training, how had this been missed? Had those who came before him simply killed any of the Arachne they encountered without investigating, thinking them monsters? Was this the only city of its kind or were there more of them? How long had they been here, enough to erect a single city at least and not a small one. The spiderfolk had erected great walls and towers here, not something done without great effort for lesser races.
He had heard of their kind before, in passing. Though, as far as he knew, they lived in the jungles of the eastern continent of Gelzoyia stalking the trees during the night. What were they doing here in the Shattered Isles? Then again, perhaps he was getting ahead of himself, they could have been remnants of another age, who simply lived here because they always had done so.
Galliard watched the spider woman for a while longer, turning about towards the underpasses, he shot off at a speed no mortal could match. He’d learned much today, including the fact that his slaughter of the local monsters had drawn attention. He had been lucky not to encounter any of these lesser beings previously, but the fact remained they were here. Had he been sent here as a test, to see what he would do with this information despite his given orders? The heir of Wrath was unsure of what to do now, did he bring back such information himself? Jyn had instructed him to remain until the task was complete. Did he already know about them? He was one of the best scouts of this age, Galliard suspected he was already aware of the Arachnid’s existence.
A hand came up to massage his brow, he could already feel the headache coming. First things first, finish the assignment, the city wasn’t going to disappear into the ether. Not without an extremely powerful mage in their employ and he’d have sensed that kind of power from the other side of the canyon. Unless…another Blessed could be the cause of this. Unlikely, but possible…
Galliard shook his head, clearing the thoughts as he came to a stop. Reaching downwards he scratched Kalama behind the ears. The hound’s tail wagged fast enough to generate a stiff breeze. At least the pup wasn’t ignoring him anymore, he mused. Though, perhaps pup wasn’t the right word to describe her any longer. Humming to himself as he concluded that he did not necessarily need to personally go back just yet. It wouldn’t be long until he was finished with his trials here. While he doubted Jyn was ignorant about the city, it would perhaps be prudent to get his opinion on the situation.
Shrugging his shoulders a small pulse of magic left him, in his palm, a miniature clone of Kalama appeared, wagging her tiny tail. Lifting the other hand from the fluffy ears of his familiar, much to her consternation, he slit open his index finger and wrote a short message with the blood pooled. Giving it to the smaller version of his companion he watched as the clone flew upwards towards the top of the canyon.
“Well then, back to what we were doing girl!” Galliard chirped merrily, looking forward to being done with this place.
Cracking his neck the young heir of House Wrath strode into the darkness once more…only to find his legs tangled in thick tendrils.
“I’m sick of these fuckin tentacles!” The lordling seethed as he was pulled off his feet towards the open jaws of a Tanglebrute for the third time today, Kalama rushing after her irate master.