dikdik
colossal leaf and prince of the universe
2
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Fantasy Terrorchild: Awakening
- Thread starter K0mori
- Start date
Call on the Circle
New
K0mori
Servant Supreme
Option 1: 1 Vote (13% - Range: 1-13)
Option 2: 6 Votes (75% - Range: 14-88)
Option 4: 1 Vote (13% - Range: 89-100
Fae Roll: 45
You turn to Embryx. "Let's gather our circle up and figure out where to go from here," you say after you've finished savoring the adoration of your followers. "A few of you are probably going to voice some concerns with me, but I'd rather try to work things out than just overrule you all," you explain, your expression relaxed and reassuring. Embryx, still stressed from her brush with death, takes a deep breath and nods, seemingly intent on keeping her anger in check so that it can be useful to her, rather than causing more of a scene.
"...Fine, let's go get them," she replies.
Your circle - Embryx, Jannava, Corrinth, Veralt, Fiola, Stalna, and Wag - all lived through the battle, either through luck or through divine intervention. As the eight of you stand aside on the uneven ground of the graveyard which, ironically, is devoid of the dead - as the enemy found the numerous open graves an unsuitable battlefield - a crowd forms around the edges, trying to eavesdrop on your conversation.
"Sisters," you begin, "we have at least seventy mouths to feed tonight, and more will be coming after this. There's no food here, and while the royalists have fled east and they're still in our path, they probably won't stand their ground if we come for them. I think we should move east, towards Enthaan - and maybe even travel through the night so that we don't have to camp on the road without supplies."
"I've got a different idea," Corrinth volunteers, her eyes sparkling with a renewed love of life. "I think we ought to turn around and go backwards."
"...What?" you tiredly reply, tilting your head at her. Your reaction must have been shared by everyone in the group aside from Veralt, who seemed to already grasp what Corrinth was proposing.
"First, we go back to Purrosh. The royalists aren't coming anymore, so it's safe territory. The locals are all scared shitless of us and their kids are probably already either fae-touched or straight-up missing after what we did - and there were only..." she counts on her fingers herself, you, Embryx and Jannava, "...four of us - so if we came waltzing back with seventy hungry, blood soaked witches, we could take whatever we want from Purrosh!"
You shake your head emphatically. "But then what, Corrinth? We'd have full stomachs, but they'd be empty again by the time we marched this far west again."
"We don't march west!" she replies, snickering. "We head for Mardenaal. We kill the nobles and take the city for ourselves! I could even disguise myself as one of them and pretend like I escaped! Can you imagine how much chaos we could cause if I was touring the land as Duke what's-his-fuck and telling everyone how the gods have abandoned Turadal, and how fucking scary you are?"
"Okay, okay," you concede, "I see the vision, and, well... Yeah, it seems fun," you reply with a snicker of your own that positively delights your former mentor. But you sigh, reigning in the fae side of your mind. "But, we called this circle so that everyone can have their say, and I still think it would be more wise to stick to our original plan and link up with Kulka in the east. Guys, what do you think?"
You look to Jannava, who shrinks back a bit and shakes her head. "I... I don't know. I don't know what's happening anymore or how to plan for what's next, Agranne. If you find me a graveyard, I can make you more soldiers, but I'm not even sure if you need an army anymore. The way you're going, you'll invent some new type of magic that'll make food, sleep, and marching completely unnecessary, and it won't matter what direction we go! But please, just don't turn around and drag me back to Mardenaal! I want to go home..."
"Oh, quit bellyaching!" Corrinth interrupts, leering at the tiefling. "Diala's gone! And if you want to scamper off to Estfang with your tail between your legs, you ought to slip out quietly and not make yourself an albatross around Agranne's neck."
Embryx crosses her arms and looks you square in your eyes. "What do you think, Agranne?"
"Don't speak for me, Corrinth," you snap, feeling the heat from Embryx's question. "I said your plan sounded fun, nothing else, nothing more. And I told Jannava that I'd help her get to Thandan, I told Kulka that I would meet her in Thandan, and I told the whole damned coven that we're going to Thandan to put the royals in their place, and if I turn around now, while the path is wide open, then it'll call into question whether I'm in this for the Eldest's design or if I'm just playing around with faeries!"
Corrinth's smile disappears, and she briefly glares at Embryx before admitting she's wrong. "...I know. You and Syrith are..." she interlocked the fingers of each of her hands as if to suggest tightly woven. "I can find fun in Enthaan."
You then turn to Jannava to confront her apparent cowardice. "If I scare you," you say, "then travel in my wake, not at the cutting edge. You've taught me necromancy, and you've taught it to my followers. Unless there's a lot more that we can learn from you, some incredible technique, I don't believe we need you in this inner circle anymore, and I mean that in the most sincere way that I can," you explain, trying to reassure her that you won't harm her if she wants to abandon the circle.
Jannava closes her eyes for a moment, angry for reasons you can't quite decipher. "...There's a lot more. You only scratched the very surface of my craft, and if you want to know what I can do, then you must work with me, and not be led on any more fantastic diversions into the fae woods. Understand?"
You nod. You look back to Embryx, waiting for her to weigh in.
"I'm with Jannava," she says fiercely, returning Corrinth's glare. "This whole thing only works if we keep our focus. Enthaan is the right move. But what will we do when we get there?"
1. Give Them a Choice - "I think we should open a dialogue with the city's leaders, not just the local circle. We need them to understand what'll happen if they don't bend the knee. If one city falls, then maybe others will, too, and clear the path forward," you suggest, which elicits nods from the newest members of the circle, especially Veralt.
2. Act Natural - "I think we should just walk into town as if we're just travelers passing through. We can take what we want, make camp... Who's going to stand up to us, now that the royalists have fled? We can compel and manipulate our way through, peacefully," you explain, watching as Embryx's expression begins to relax in favor of a more pleasant one.
3. Jannava's Plan - "Jannava said that she wants me to work with her. I want to know what the upper limits of her magic are, because I'd like to learn it someday. So, Jannava... What will we do when we get to Enthaan?" you ask, watching as the necromancer frowns deeply over what she's about to suggest.
4. Corrinth's Plan - "What if I just sent you to Mardenaal? Your changeling abilities would make it fairly easy for you to kill and impersonate any of the nobles, and I can order the local circle to open its doors to you to help you instill control over the city. Then, you can meet back up with us after we've gained control of Enthaan," you explain, hoping that Embryx will catch on that you're simply trying to remove the most chaotic member of your circle temporarily.
Option 2: 6 Votes (75% - Range: 14-88)
Option 4: 1 Vote (13% - Range: 89-100
Fae Roll: 45
You turn to Embryx. "Let's gather our circle up and figure out where to go from here," you say after you've finished savoring the adoration of your followers. "A few of you are probably going to voice some concerns with me, but I'd rather try to work things out than just overrule you all," you explain, your expression relaxed and reassuring. Embryx, still stressed from her brush with death, takes a deep breath and nods, seemingly intent on keeping her anger in check so that it can be useful to her, rather than causing more of a scene.
"...Fine, let's go get them," she replies.
---
The forces of the coven are directed to stand by - some take this as an opportunity to seek care for their wounds, while others begin to haphazardly loot and/or reanimate the dead. Still others are caught between two worlds, watching as the revelry from the night before spontaneously resumes, now dripping with the gore of the day amidst the increasingly pungent smell of blood. Those with intact minds, meanwhile, cower away into the shadow of the trees, seeking a quiet respite where they can recover their thoughts.
Your circle - Embryx, Jannava, Corrinth, Veralt, Fiola, Stalna, and Wag - all lived through the battle, either through luck or through divine intervention. As the eight of you stand aside on the uneven ground of the graveyard which, ironically, is devoid of the dead - as the enemy found the numerous open graves an unsuitable battlefield - a crowd forms around the edges, trying to eavesdrop on your conversation.
"Sisters," you begin, "we have at least seventy mouths to feed tonight, and more will be coming after this. There's no food here, and while the royalists have fled east and they're still in our path, they probably won't stand their ground if we come for them. I think we should move east, towards Enthaan - and maybe even travel through the night so that we don't have to camp on the road without supplies."
"I've got a different idea," Corrinth volunteers, her eyes sparkling with a renewed love of life. "I think we ought to turn around and go backwards."
"...What?" you tiredly reply, tilting your head at her. Your reaction must have been shared by everyone in the group aside from Veralt, who seemed to already grasp what Corrinth was proposing.
"First, we go back to Purrosh. The royalists aren't coming anymore, so it's safe territory. The locals are all scared shitless of us and their kids are probably already either fae-touched or straight-up missing after what we did - and there were only..." she counts on her fingers herself, you, Embryx and Jannava, "...four of us - so if we came waltzing back with seventy hungry, blood soaked witches, we could take whatever we want from Purrosh!"
You shake your head emphatically. "But then what, Corrinth? We'd have full stomachs, but they'd be empty again by the time we marched this far west again."
"We don't march west!" she replies, snickering. "We head for Mardenaal. We kill the nobles and take the city for ourselves! I could even disguise myself as one of them and pretend like I escaped! Can you imagine how much chaos we could cause if I was touring the land as Duke what's-his-fuck and telling everyone how the gods have abandoned Turadal, and how fucking scary you are?"
"Okay, okay," you concede, "I see the vision, and, well... Yeah, it seems fun," you reply with a snicker of your own that positively delights your former mentor. But you sigh, reigning in the fae side of your mind. "But, we called this circle so that everyone can have their say, and I still think it would be more wise to stick to our original plan and link up with Kulka in the east. Guys, what do you think?"
You look to Jannava, who shrinks back a bit and shakes her head. "I... I don't know. I don't know what's happening anymore or how to plan for what's next, Agranne. If you find me a graveyard, I can make you more soldiers, but I'm not even sure if you need an army anymore. The way you're going, you'll invent some new type of magic that'll make food, sleep, and marching completely unnecessary, and it won't matter what direction we go! But please, just don't turn around and drag me back to Mardenaal! I want to go home..."
"Oh, quit bellyaching!" Corrinth interrupts, leering at the tiefling. "Diala's gone! And if you want to scamper off to Estfang with your tail between your legs, you ought to slip out quietly and not make yourself an albatross around Agranne's neck."
Embryx crosses her arms and looks you square in your eyes. "What do you think, Agranne?"
"Don't speak for me, Corrinth," you snap, feeling the heat from Embryx's question. "I said your plan sounded fun, nothing else, nothing more. And I told Jannava that I'd help her get to Thandan, I told Kulka that I would meet her in Thandan, and I told the whole damned coven that we're going to Thandan to put the royals in their place, and if I turn around now, while the path is wide open, then it'll call into question whether I'm in this for the Eldest's design or if I'm just playing around with faeries!"
Corrinth's smile disappears, and she briefly glares at Embryx before admitting she's wrong. "...I know. You and Syrith are..." she interlocked the fingers of each of her hands as if to suggest tightly woven. "I can find fun in Enthaan."
You then turn to Jannava to confront her apparent cowardice. "If I scare you," you say, "then travel in my wake, not at the cutting edge. You've taught me necromancy, and you've taught it to my followers. Unless there's a lot more that we can learn from you, some incredible technique, I don't believe we need you in this inner circle anymore, and I mean that in the most sincere way that I can," you explain, trying to reassure her that you won't harm her if she wants to abandon the circle.
Jannava closes her eyes for a moment, angry for reasons you can't quite decipher. "...There's a lot more. You only scratched the very surface of my craft, and if you want to know what I can do, then you must work with me, and not be led on any more fantastic diversions into the fae woods. Understand?"
You nod. You look back to Embryx, waiting for her to weigh in.
"I'm with Jannava," she says fiercely, returning Corrinth's glare. "This whole thing only works if we keep our focus. Enthaan is the right move. But what will we do when we get there?"
1. Give Them a Choice - "I think we should open a dialogue with the city's leaders, not just the local circle. We need them to understand what'll happen if they don't bend the knee. If one city falls, then maybe others will, too, and clear the path forward," you suggest, which elicits nods from the newest members of the circle, especially Veralt.
2. Act Natural - "I think we should just walk into town as if we're just travelers passing through. We can take what we want, make camp... Who's going to stand up to us, now that the royalists have fled? We can compel and manipulate our way through, peacefully," you explain, watching as Embryx's expression begins to relax in favor of a more pleasant one.
3. Jannava's Plan - "Jannava said that she wants me to work with her. I want to know what the upper limits of her magic are, because I'd like to learn it someday. So, Jannava... What will we do when we get to Enthaan?" you ask, watching as the necromancer frowns deeply over what she's about to suggest.
4. Corrinth's Plan - "What if I just sent you to Mardenaal? Your changeling abilities would make it fairly easy for you to kill and impersonate any of the nobles, and I can order the local circle to open its doors to you to help you instill control over the city. Then, you can meet back up with us after we've gained control of Enthaan," you explain, hoping that Embryx will catch on that you're simply trying to remove the most chaotic member of your circle temporarily.
Infab
The Demon Fanatic
3
Breadman
Big loaf supreme
1
Damian0358
Roleplaying Procrastinator From Elsewhere
2
Satin
Hit Me!
3
hardcore.munchkin
Professional hater
4
joshuadim
the writer
3
dikdik
colossal leaf and prince of the universe
3
bat_hacker
Meta-Magic Eight Ball
2
turtwigwins
Junior Member
3
Give Them a Choice
New
K0mori
Servant Supreme
Option 1: 1 Vote (11% - Range: 1-11)
Option 2: 2 Votes (22% - Range: 12-34)
Option 3: 5 Votes (56% - Range: 35-90)
Option 4: 1 Vote (11% - Range: 91-100)
Fae Roll: 10
The fur on your back stands on end for a moment as you realize that you had spoken without giving serious thought to the consequences. Perhaps this is merely your altered mind, sparking against itself? Would it not be wise to stop yourself and take a different course? A moment passes as your tongue freezes in place; you think about Jannava's comments and how you wish you knew the extent of the truth behind her remarks, but the opportunity is swiftly passing you by. A fae notion has seized you, and you can't help but enamor yourself with the thought of wealthy nobles, groveling at your feet.
You inadvertently break into laughter - low, surreal, menacing laughter. "...Oh, I can't wait to hear them beg!" you rave.
Veralt takes out his wand and motions for attention. Corrinth, despite her apparent desire to know what he has to say, nonetheless shakes her head threateningly at him. "No, not me. Not this time, kitty." He eyes her carefully, looking mildly offended at her dismissal for a moment, before a sly smile curls at the corners of his mouth that only infuriates her further. He turns instead to Embryx, who hesitates a moment before nodding reluctantly.
She stiffens up before speaking his words, slowly and gracefully in a gentle cadence unlike her own: "You said, 'what'll happen if they don't bend the knee,' but I don't think any of us know exactly what you mean by that. I imagine that the soldiers who faced us today won't be able to reach a consensus on what exactly happened to them, only that it was madness and death all around. Maybe some sort of demonstration is in order?" And after gently cocking her head to punctuate the question, Embryx was released from his compulsion.
"Gods! So many words for such a simple idea..." she then grumbled of her own volition.
You shrug. "He's right, though. If Enthaan doesn't surrender, then what should we do to it?" you ask, playfully. "It needs to be something simple - and something we can demonstrate without killing everyone in the process."
Sensing an open floor, Fiola speaks up: "...I know a dirty trick we can play."
"Oh?" Corrinth crows.
You snicker. "I think just about anything's on the table," you encourage her.
Fiola nods and takes a deep breath, returning your smile. "...Have you ever heard of the errant whisper?"
You're gliding through the night air, bitterly cold wind whipping in your face and cloak to keep you alert as you guide your scores of witches toward the city of Enthaan. Their horses thunder against the road and then the grass as you leave the fae woods behind, watching the landscape around you widen into an ocean of gray plains in the moonlight.
Fiola's suggestion was a simple one, but one you had never employed before. First, you compel your target to imagine something terrible occurring. Then, you give them a jolt of manipulative fear, and suddenly, they lose their grip. How could they feel so strongly about something that's not occurring? Are they so sure it isn't? ...and so on. And with dozens of witches working in concert with the Terrorchild and the Pandemonium Door at their side, the coven will have the tools to reshape reality in their favor, if only for one night.
A harvest moon hangs gloomily as you reach the city walls. Your many sisters and brothers dismount and gather as shouts of alarm ring out from the sentries above on the parapets; your coming was foretold, it seems. Good.
What's happening? Your wife... Where has she gone?
A few seconds later, you recall the terrible news from earlier in the day - the army raised by Count Caspan, the one meant to clear out the fae incursion that terrorized Purrosh, had encountered a mass of witches in the western woods that morning and had returned in shambles, speaking nonsense. They told of an army of the Dark One's devoted which numbered in the many dozens, if not hundreds, and possessing all manner of torturous and cruel deaths which they doled out in glee, the fae at their side as if they were kin.
Worst of all, they spoke of a tabaxi unlike any witch they had ever seen... She doesn't walk; she levitates like a ghost. Dark magic envelops her like death's shroud, and she reaped the lives of dozens in an instant by turning spilt blood into a flog which sliced through flesh and metal alike. They think, perhaps, she isn't a witch at all, but the manifestation of Syrith herself. Be wary, the Count's dispatch warned, the Duke is coming, but may not arrive until after the Lythrefang heretics throw their malice against Enthaan.
The town bell is ringing. It's happening. They're here, attacking by night. What do they want!? You had considered running away in the late evening. Why hadn't your run? Can the city guard keep them at bay? Is it too late? ...Are you trapped within the walls which were meant to protect you?
You spring out of bed, grabbing your boots and slipping them over your feet. Your mind is racing; your wife must have already risen to heed the alarm, but there's no explaining why she didn't rouse you. You stumble through your home in the dark until you find your flint and fodder, and after retrieving your lantern case, you kindle a small flame to help guide you through the night. Your hands tremble as you work; you hear screaming outside, and you say a silent prayer to Zephimus to preserve you and your wife as you seek deliverance from this evil.
1. Search for Your Wife - You can hardly think, with the fear of the coven's approach rising within you with each passing second. You know you need to find your wife before you do anything else, however; life would be meaningless without her love. You scramble to locate her so you can keep her safe.
2. Find a Good Hiding Place - You don't own a horse. You don't have supplies. Where could you even go at a time like this? You need to hide somewhere where they won't bother to check... Maybe the cellar below the alehouse?
3. Take Your Chances - Maybe if you can't find a horse, you can steal one. Nobler men would stand and fight, but you aren't willing to die tonight. You grab a knife from the block and venture out in search of escape.
Option 2: 2 Votes (22% - Range: 12-34)
Option 3: 5 Votes (56% - Range: 35-90)
Option 4: 1 Vote (11% - Range: 91-100)
Fae Roll: 10
The fur on your back stands on end for a moment as you realize that you had spoken without giving serious thought to the consequences. Perhaps this is merely your altered mind, sparking against itself? Would it not be wise to stop yourself and take a different course? A moment passes as your tongue freezes in place; you think about Jannava's comments and how you wish you knew the extent of the truth behind her remarks, but the opportunity is swiftly passing you by. A fae notion has seized you, and you can't help but enamor yourself with the thought of wealthy nobles, groveling at your feet.
You inadvertently break into laughter - low, surreal, menacing laughter. "...Oh, I can't wait to hear them beg!" you rave.
Veralt takes out his wand and motions for attention. Corrinth, despite her apparent desire to know what he has to say, nonetheless shakes her head threateningly at him. "No, not me. Not this time, kitty." He eyes her carefully, looking mildly offended at her dismissal for a moment, before a sly smile curls at the corners of his mouth that only infuriates her further. He turns instead to Embryx, who hesitates a moment before nodding reluctantly.
She stiffens up before speaking his words, slowly and gracefully in a gentle cadence unlike her own: "You said, 'what'll happen if they don't bend the knee,' but I don't think any of us know exactly what you mean by that. I imagine that the soldiers who faced us today won't be able to reach a consensus on what exactly happened to them, only that it was madness and death all around. Maybe some sort of demonstration is in order?" And after gently cocking her head to punctuate the question, Embryx was released from his compulsion.
"Gods! So many words for such a simple idea..." she then grumbled of her own volition.
You shrug. "He's right, though. If Enthaan doesn't surrender, then what should we do to it?" you ask, playfully. "It needs to be something simple - and something we can demonstrate without killing everyone in the process."
Sensing an open floor, Fiola speaks up: "...I know a dirty trick we can play."
"Oh?" Corrinth crows.
You snicker. "I think just about anything's on the table," you encourage her.
Fiola nods and takes a deep breath, returning your smile. "...Have you ever heard of the errant whisper?"
---
Enthaan, the Following Night
Enthaan, the Following Night
You're gliding through the night air, bitterly cold wind whipping in your face and cloak to keep you alert as you guide your scores of witches toward the city of Enthaan. Their horses thunder against the road and then the grass as you leave the fae woods behind, watching the landscape around you widen into an ocean of gray plains in the moonlight.
Fiola's suggestion was a simple one, but one you had never employed before. First, you compel your target to imagine something terrible occurring. Then, you give them a jolt of manipulative fear, and suddenly, they lose their grip. How could they feel so strongly about something that's not occurring? Are they so sure it isn't? ...and so on. And with dozens of witches working in concert with the Terrorchild and the Pandemonium Door at their side, the coven will have the tools to reshape reality in their favor, if only for one night.
A harvest moon hangs gloomily as you reach the city walls. Your many sisters and brothers dismount and gather as shouts of alarm ring out from the sentries above on the parapets; your coming was foretold, it seems. Good.
---
Your eyes open on darkness as you lay in your bed, and it's only moments before you hear the ringing of the town bell again. You turn over and your arm meets only bedding beside you.
What's happening? Your wife... Where has she gone?
A few seconds later, you recall the terrible news from earlier in the day - the army raised by Count Caspan, the one meant to clear out the fae incursion that terrorized Purrosh, had encountered a mass of witches in the western woods that morning and had returned in shambles, speaking nonsense. They told of an army of the Dark One's devoted which numbered in the many dozens, if not hundreds, and possessing all manner of torturous and cruel deaths which they doled out in glee, the fae at their side as if they were kin.
Worst of all, they spoke of a tabaxi unlike any witch they had ever seen... She doesn't walk; she levitates like a ghost. Dark magic envelops her like death's shroud, and she reaped the lives of dozens in an instant by turning spilt blood into a flog which sliced through flesh and metal alike. They think, perhaps, she isn't a witch at all, but the manifestation of Syrith herself. Be wary, the Count's dispatch warned, the Duke is coming, but may not arrive until after the Lythrefang heretics throw their malice against Enthaan.
The town bell is ringing. It's happening. They're here, attacking by night. What do they want!? You had considered running away in the late evening. Why hadn't your run? Can the city guard keep them at bay? Is it too late? ...Are you trapped within the walls which were meant to protect you?
You spring out of bed, grabbing your boots and slipping them over your feet. Your mind is racing; your wife must have already risen to heed the alarm, but there's no explaining why she didn't rouse you. You stumble through your home in the dark until you find your flint and fodder, and after retrieving your lantern case, you kindle a small flame to help guide you through the night. Your hands tremble as you work; you hear screaming outside, and you say a silent prayer to Zephimus to preserve you and your wife as you seek deliverance from this evil.
1. Search for Your Wife - You can hardly think, with the fear of the coven's approach rising within you with each passing second. You know you need to find your wife before you do anything else, however; life would be meaningless without her love. You scramble to locate her so you can keep her safe.
2. Find a Good Hiding Place - You don't own a horse. You don't have supplies. Where could you even go at a time like this? You need to hide somewhere where they won't bother to check... Maybe the cellar below the alehouse?
3. Take Your Chances - Maybe if you can't find a horse, you can steal one. Nobler men would stand and fight, but you aren't willing to die tonight. You grab a knife from the block and venture out in search of escape.
Infab
The Demon Fanatic
1
joshuadim
the writer
2
Damian0358
Roleplaying Procrastinator From Elsewhere
1
Breadman
Big loaf supreme
1
turtwigwins
Junior Member
1
hardcore.munchkin
Professional hater
1
bat_hacker
Meta-Magic Eight Ball
1
Victim: Search for Your Wife
New
K0mori
Servant Supreme
You unlatch the door and step into the bitterly cold air outside, your head whipping back and forth to scan the street around you. Instantly, your eyes lock onto vague shapes moving in the darkness - your neighbors, rendered unrecognizable by the shadow of night - but as you move to join them, you nearly crash into another pair of neighbors running the opposite direction. No one knows where to go. "Sarial!" you call out in search of your wife. "SARIAL!"
There's no reply, only panic. You close your eyes for a moment and realize that she might have gone to Dashal's house to help him with his three children, since his own lady is an invalid. You set out in that direction, reasoning that if she isn't there, your old friend will still need help ushering his family to safety. As you run along the cobbled street, you hear the sound of wood breaking free, mean yelling in dismay, rubble falling to the ground, and horses - both the urgent neighing of the animals as well as their hooves against the stone roadway. They've broken through the gates!?
You barely make it a few more doors down before a shadowy rider careens around the corner, her arm extended with a wand pointing accusingly at all she sees. For a moment, you feel her staring at you - your lantern drawing her ire. In fear of what her hex might do, you dive to the ground on a patch of thin, dry grass, and your flame sparks through the metal cannister as a tiny shower of embers. A moment passes as you feel... the same. You groan a bit in frustration and helplessness, cursing your situation as you pick yourself back up and resume your movement with the light now out in your lantern. A thought tugs at the back of your mind, and a growing fear you can't define stirs in your stomach, but you press onward nonetheless.
You slip into a dark passage between two buildings and emerge on a familiar row of houses - Dashal's home is just ahead. As you near his house, however, you can't help but wonder what sort of dangers might have been lurking in the impenetrable darkness of the alley. Perhaps you stepped through a spider's web? You begin to feel about your face and hair, and then, all at once - you feel it.
Something is crawling on you. Maybe multiple somethings. You pat and then slap against yourself where you think the pests might be crawling, but you can't seem to locate them and act before they move about again, and soon, you think you feel a bite against the back of your neck. You yelp, twisting helplessly. "...Sarial!" you call out at the door. "Are you in there, Sarial!?"
The door opens, and Dashal finds you so overcome with the sensation of spiders crawling on your body that he can't help but react. "Eredov! What's a matter with you!?" he says.
"Dashal, help me, brother!" you reply. "I can't find Sarial, and I walked into spiders' webs on the way here... they're... AH! They're on me, oh gods!"
As Dashal comes to your aid, trying to brush the creatures off of you as he assures you that Sarial is safe inside, you hear the thundering of horses again as two turn up the street. "Hurry, get inside!" he urges you as the two riders direct their wands in your direction. Just after entering the house and entering the dim light, Dashal throws the door closed behind you and locks the bolt. "Those witches are here, causing trouble," Dashal grumbles. "How many do you think there are?"
You can't answer him. Now that you can see your hands, you see the shadows dancing about in the cracks between your fingers, and from the movement, you see them... Lots of them. "Oh... OH GODS THEY'RE-" you scream, and now, as Dashal looks at his own hands and arms, he begins to recognize the hundreds of freshly hatched spider spawns on his body which you carried with you.
Sarial arrives in the room and sees you struggling. "Eredov!" she calls out. "Eredov, stop! What's wrong!?"
"Get back!" you scream. "Don't let them get on you!"
She can't tell whether or not anything is on you, but she isn't taking any chances, wheeling backwards to avoid whatever it is you're talking about.
1. It's Not a Trick, Cleanse Yourself - You can't get them off of you - you need something that can cover you, and quickly. There's a cookpot in Dashal's fireplace, and you feel an overwhelming urge to dump its contents on yourself to rid yourself of spiders.
2. It's Not a Trick, Protect Them - You can't allow this infestation to spread to your wife and Dashal's children. You scramble back toward the door, slamming the bolt out of the way so you can steer yourself back to the street. Maybe there, you can remove most of them from your body by rolling on the stones...
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