Post by Klaus on Dec 4, 2007 5:45:30 GMT 1
The 5-foot, eight-legged creature skittered its way though the Umbral landscape, a half-dozen similar-looking creatures going about their business strengthening the Gauntlet with steely strands of spiritstuff where it had begun to fray.
They paid no mind to the fact that their 'comrade' merely stood-by and watched as they spun their Umbral threads. He was different, he did not belong among their kind, yet they seemed oblivious to the fact.
He had lost track of how long it had been since he last stepped from the Umbra. The concept of time had blurred and his memories had begun to fade.
Queen Ananasa had turned her back on him, condemned him to death after he had allowed the Ovid to reclaim their caern from he and his brothers. It belonged to the Ananasi by right, and it was his sacred duty to defend it.
Yet he had allowed it to fall, and despite his best efforts, he had been unable to reclaim it. And so, he had retreated to the Umbra, finding solace among the simple lives of the pattern spiders.
His head was constantly filled with the Weaver's whispers now. At first, he had thought himself growing mad after so much time spent this side of the Gauntlet, the intermittent gibbering disconcerting, yet he now knew that the voice was indeed true.
His Mother had abandoned him, yes, but Grandfather Weaver still saw something in his pitiable soul. He was yet to decipher exactly what the voice inside his head was saying, but as time passed, the sounds had begun to form words, the words now forming near-complete sentences. He knew it was only a matter of time before His voice became clear and His schemes fell into place.
He would show his Queen that he was not completely useless, he would serve Grandfather Weaver faithfully and without falter. No longer would he hide amongst the pattern spiders like a lowly coward.
The time to act was approaching, and he would be ready when he was needed...
They paid no mind to the fact that their 'comrade' merely stood-by and watched as they spun their Umbral threads. He was different, he did not belong among their kind, yet they seemed oblivious to the fact.
He had lost track of how long it had been since he last stepped from the Umbra. The concept of time had blurred and his memories had begun to fade.
Queen Ananasa had turned her back on him, condemned him to death after he had allowed the Ovid to reclaim their caern from he and his brothers. It belonged to the Ananasi by right, and it was his sacred duty to defend it.
Yet he had allowed it to fall, and despite his best efforts, he had been unable to reclaim it. And so, he had retreated to the Umbra, finding solace among the simple lives of the pattern spiders.
His head was constantly filled with the Weaver's whispers now. At first, he had thought himself growing mad after so much time spent this side of the Gauntlet, the intermittent gibbering disconcerting, yet he now knew that the voice was indeed true.
His Mother had abandoned him, yes, but Grandfather Weaver still saw something in his pitiable soul. He was yet to decipher exactly what the voice inside his head was saying, but as time passed, the sounds had begun to form words, the words now forming near-complete sentences. He knew it was only a matter of time before His voice became clear and His schemes fell into place.
He would show his Queen that he was not completely useless, he would serve Grandfather Weaver faithfully and without falter. No longer would he hide amongst the pattern spiders like a lowly coward.
The time to act was approaching, and he would be ready when he was needed...
