by James Hunter
I’d need a proper team to clear some of those areas. Another time, I scolded myself before moving on.
The most disconcerting room, though, was what could only be a combination meat locker and kitchen. Bodies—some human, most not—covered every surface. Many hung from the ceiling in silken sacs. Others were strapped to stalagmites and stalactites jutting from the ceiling and floor. Even more were stacked against the craggy walls like firewood, just waiting to be used up. Consumed. Looking at all of those bodies—and some were still clearly alive, judging by the way the sacs wriggled or swung—made me sick down to my core.
Is this really the right move?
Despite what I’d convinced myself of, these creatures were clearly monsters. Maybe intelligent monsters, but still monsters. Could I really justify striking a bargain with these things? And even if I did, how could I be sure that deal wouldn’t come back to bite me in the ass big-time later on? I didn’t have any good answers, but my mind instantly recalled the first line from the Recruitment skill description: “The enemy of my enemy is my friend …” Maybe the Spider Queen and her children would be a problem later on, but for now they might just keep me and my friends alive.
So, I pushed the awful thoughts from mind and left the horrific pantry behind, skirting around another bend, which terminated at the biggest cavern I’d seen yet. The place was easily the size of a football stadium. Impressive to say the least. Scattered across the floor and lined up against the walls were bulging egg sacs, filled with the shadowy forms of spiderkin. Eight-legged, nightmare babies waiting to be born. Directly in the center of the cavernous room sat a dilapidated pyramid of rough stone. Huge steps led up to a flat dais with an elaborately carved throne at its middle, and hanging above that—suspended by a thousand threads of silk from the ceiling—was a gigantic ball of webbing with a hole in the bottom.
The web-orb was at least thirty feet in diameter, but instead of silvery gauze, the whole thing was built from golden silk which glowed like an indoor sun. This place had to be the Royal Throne Room; it practically screamed “Spider Queen” at the top of its lungs. I took one tentative step forward, and a small platoon of purple spiders—their bodies studded with wicked barbs—materialized in the air before me. The things were at least twice the size of the brown-haired spiderkin from above and pulsed with a ghostly light, which reminded me of my own Umbra Bolt abilities.
I took one glance at their name and immediately felt sick to my stomach: [Umbra Crawlers]. Of course.
The Umbra Crawlers shot forward en masse, moving with astonishing speed for creatures their size. A flair of panic raced through me as I triggered my Shadow Stride skill on instinct. I didn’t need to kill these things to complete the quest—I just needed to get to the top of that dais—so I intended to run. Inky black smoke exploded out from me, swallowing me in a swirl of shadow, but something sticky and viscous splattered against my feet at the same instant. Panicked, I glanced down and saw great gobs of webbing pinning me in place, earning me a pair of combat notifications:
<<<>>>
Debuff Added
Snared: You have been snared by Web Vomit, slowing your movement by 50%; duration, 3 minutes.
<<<>>>
Shadow Stride failed! You’ve been snared and are unable to Shadow Stride until your movement is restored.
<<<>>>
The panic increased in intensity, turning into a bright, angry knot of fear in my stomach.
I launched an Umbra Bolt at an encroaching spider, but the attack glanced off its side with little effect, ricocheting harmlessly into the Throne Room beyond. With adrenaline coursing through me, I lashed out with my hammer, but something slammed into me from the side, tackling me to the ground. I landed badly, a flash of pain lancing through my body, and before I knew what was happening, one of the purple monsters was straddling me, its bloated abdomen throbbing and pulsing as it spewed more webbing over me, cocooning my legs together in quick, fluid motions, then moving up to my waist and hands.
I fought feebly, trying to wrestle my warhammer up so I could fight back.
The effort was futile, though—the thick webbing was like superglue, pinning my right hand uselessly against my body. My left hand was still free, though, so I slashed at the creature above me with my bladed gauntlet. The attack opened a nasty gash in its pulsating belly, spilling out gelatinous green gore that reeked like soiled meat and raw sewage. The creature chittered in protest but kept working tirelessly away, wrapping me up tighter and tighter. Mummifying me. In a last-ditch effort, I conjured Umbra Bog around me, hoping to slow down the other Umbra Crawlers, but that earned me another fail notification:
<<<>>>
Umbra Bog Failed! Umbra Crawlers resist Umbra Bog with the Web-Walker ability!
<<<>>>
Great. I went back to fruitlessly slashing at the creature with my lone gauntlet, but after another few seconds, even that option was taken from me as fine strands of gossamer bound my arm. The creature kept working, until only my head was left free. I continued to struggle, shaking myself back and forth, straining to break loose, but the cocoon was as snug as a straightjacket. There was no way I was getting out.
TWENTY: Wheeling and Dealing
“Relax, troublesome fly.” The words echoed around the cavernous room. “You fought valiantly, but I can’t allow you to get too close without some proper restraint. You’re very clever, after all, and perhaps you mean me ill will. If your deal is as good as you say, you have nothing to fear. If you have some trickery planned, though, you’d best prepare yourself for a very long and painful death.” A quest alert appeared as she fell silent:
<<<>>>
Quest Alert: Worthy Foe
Despite being captured, you’ve managed to reach the Royal Throne Room of Lowyth the Immortal Orbweaver alive, thus proving yourself to be a worthy foe and dangerous predator. In return for your valiant endeavor, you’ve earned a begrudging audience with the Spider Matriarch! Because you possess the “Blessing of the Forest,” your relationship with the Spider Nation has improved to from Hostile to Neutral. You’ve been awarded 100 renown—in-world fame—for completing this rare, faction-based quest. Greater renown elevates you within the ranks of Eldgard and can affect merchant prices when selling or buying.
<<<>>>
I dismissed the notice as my spider captor lifted me from the ground, slung me across its broad, bulbous back, and scuttled to the top of the pyramid, where it unceremoniously dropped me to the stone floor like a sack of flour. I lay on my back wriggling against my bonds, but finally stopped as the Spider Queen dropped down from the hole in the web-orb above, creeping down on a thread of pure gold. I could only stare on with silent revulsion.
Though I’d come face-to-face with the Spider Queen twice now, I was still taken aback by how horrendously hideous she was. Her thorax was fat, bloated, and deeply black, with looping swirls of neon red, which pulsed with uneasy light. She seemed to have legs upon legs upon legs—more than any normal spider could possibly possess—which were covered with bristling red hairs the color of a fresh nosebleed. Her arachnoid head was the size of a vintage slug bug and studded with about a thousand gleaming eyes and a set of barbed fangs more closely resembling swords than teeth.
Whatever Dev had invented this particular creature was seriously sick in the head.
The Spider Queen descended with a regal slowness, touching down softly on her too many legs as she regarded me with cold calculation. “I welcome you to my humble abode,” she buzzed, her voice the sound of an entire colony of wasps, though there was a subtle femininity to it.
Bloody light enveloped the Queen’s body, and her form began to shimmer and quiver, to dance and twirl before my eyes as her massive body shrank and morphed into something new. Her terrible, multi-jointed legs shriveled, her fat abdomen disappeared in a wash of conjured light, and her arachnoid head began to distort and shrink. One last flare of brilliant, scarlet light temporarily blinded me, but when my vision returned, the Sp
ider Queen was gone, replaced by something almost, but not quite human. This new Lowyth was surprisingly feminine, with long legs, a slim waist, and a cute heart-shaped face.
But to call her fully human would be wrong.
Her skin was still black chitin covered in slashes of fire-engine-red light. Her hair was bristly maroon and unnatural. Formidable talons tipped her fingers, and her face was covered with dull black eyes. Strangest of all, spider legs jutted from her back like wings, constantly curling and uncurling like grotesque fingers. “Since you are technically here as a guest, I thought I’d put on something a little more comfortable,” she offered with a quirked eyebrow, her voice now equal parts smoky and sultry. She turned smartly and sauntered toward the throne, taking a seat, then carefully, slowly, crossed her shapely legs.
“If you really want to make me more comfortable,” I replied, “you could cut me loose from this cocoon.”
She laughed, her bloodred lips pulling back to reveal teeth filed to sharp points. “No, Traveler, I think not. The first rule in negotiations is maintain control, and right now I’m in utter control. I’m also negotiating from a position of power, since you are quite at my mercy.”
“Yeah, I suppose,” I said with a shrug, the motion supremely awkward since I was so tightly bound. “But not really. I mean, yes, you can kill me—I’m in the heart of your kingdom and there’s no way I could get out of here if you decide you want me dead. With that said, I’m a traveler, so I won’t stay dead, and the offer I have for you is a onetime opportunity. You kill me and your one chance to expand your territory and feast on human flesh goes bye-bye.
“And maybe you should also remember,” I added after a brief pause, “I’m the head of a faction now—I could always make it a priority to wipe this dungeon right off the face of the map in the not-too-distant future. It wouldn’t be easy, but with the tools I have at my disposal, it would be possible. Just imagine, a flood of magic and cold steel raining down on your kind. I’m willing to negotiate because I’d rather make a genuine ally than a reluctant one, but you don’t hold all the cards here. You might have the upper hand in the short term, but I have the upper hand in the long term.”
She canted her head, pursed her lips, and regarded me solemnly. “Maybe there’s more to you than meets the eye,” she purred softly, “but I still won’t let you out. Not until we strike a compact. As I said, what if this is some ruse? You’ve already escaped me twice”—she raised two talon-tipped fingers into the air—“and you dispatched the Moss Hag through trickery and deception. Not that I mind, of course. Trickery and deception are coveted qualities in my realm. Still, I suppose I could at least offer you a seat if we are to negotiate properly.” She snapped her fingers and suddenly a spider was dropping from the ceiling with a rickety wooden chair, which looked Ak-Hani built, in its lanky limbs.
In short order, I found myself perched in a chair, secured in place with a spurt of webbing. “That’s a little better,” I offered, resigned.
“Perfect,” she said, tapping at the corner of her full lips with one razor-sharp nail. “Now, my children grow restless, so let us get down to business. What exactly are the terms you’re proposing?”
“It’s pretty straightforward,” I said. “We started a war with the Viridian Empire, and soon, Imperial troops are going to be flooding the Storme Marshes, intent on wiping us off the face of the Earth. I want you to expand your territory so your spiderkin roam the jungles and swamps around Yunnam as well. Then you do what you do best: when the Imperials come, you get to eat.”
“No,” she replied, shaking her head. “Unacceptable. We will not merely be your watch dogs, even if it earns us a hearty meal.”
“But you’ll expanded your territory, gain a constant supply of fresh meat, and you’ll have peace with the Ak-Hani hunters. That’s a win, win, win for you. The best possible deal.”
“This is true,” she replied with a hiss, “but we would be seen as subservient to your kind, and that will never do, fly. Your kind may call us monsters, but we are a proud nation and we will only form a compact as equals.”
Though she was saying no, I felt a wave of relief, because she wasn’t saying no, never, she was saying no, not yet. I could work with no, not yet. Heck, I hadn’t been expecting her to say yes in the first place. I had other chips to bargain with—and a few other favors to ask for in return—but the fact that she was negotiating was good.
I smiled. “Look, I’m new to this,” I said, “but it sounds like there’s common ground here. I’m prepared to hear you out, I just need to know what you’re looking to get out of this deal.”
“How shrewd of you,” she replied, staring at me through a host of squinted eyes. “Perhaps we can work something out yet. As the compact stands now, you gain much, but lose little. You grant us territory, but my children are the ones who will pay in blood. So, you must pay something too.” She paused, as though thinking. I got the sense, however, that it was all an act—she already knew exactly what she wanted. “Your lands are studded with mines full of Darkshard Ore,” she finally said, “a rare ingredient invaluable to the growth of dungeon space. Dungeons—like your Keep—draw power from the ley lines deep in the earth, but Darkshard Ore can be converted and used to make changes. Upgrades. So, I want a cut of everything you mine. Five percent of all ore extracted will come directly to me …”
And so the haggling commenced.
Back and forth we went, making offer and counteroffer, arguing over percentage points and territory rights. Discussing the exact terms of our future peace accord: Could the spiderkin attack Ak-Hani clansfolk that wandered into their territory? What about travelers crossing the swamps with friendly intentions? Caravans? How would defensive patrols work? Would the spiderkin be required to report Imperial incursions? Our conversation lasted a solid hour, and by the end I felt the arrangement was as good as I was going to get. I wasn’t completely satisfied, but then I also felt I’d given as good as I’d gotten.
She’d receive two-and-a-half percent of all the Darkshard Ore we mined, which I felt was a win, considering we’d started at five percent. Her brood couldn’t attack any Ak-Hani or Crimson Alliance members, though they could defend themselves if attacked unprovoked. Unfortunately, the spiderkin would be allowed to kill any neutral travelers or citizens—such as merchant caravans, or adventurers seeking to join the faction—with impunity, unless they had a specific agreement with the faction. That particular point bugged me a great deal since it would have a negative impact on trade, but she was unwilling to budge on the point.
On the plus side, I managed to sell her on the one item I really needed in the short term: troops. She committed to lend us a detachment of spiderkin, thirty strong, for our assault on Rowanheath, which might well make the difference between life and death.
“The only thing to do now”—Lowyth stood and stretched, her lithe muscles straining beneath her chitinous skin—“is to finalize our bargain.” She glided toward me like a predator on the prowl. She smiled as she drew close to me and extended one hand, tracing her nails along my cheek. The tips were wickedly sharp; just a tad more pressure and they’d slice right through my skin. She circled me, talons sliding over the nape of my neck, before her hand finally settled in my hair.
“Though this is nothing you could know,” she said, the words a satisfied whisper, “it is customary for all bargains to be sealed with a blood sacrifice. It is a custom of my kin. One final act of brutality to satiate all hunger and hate before any truce commences. Best to start on a genuinely clean slate.” She waved, and a fat spider scuttled up the stairs and crouched just to her right. I glanced at the bug. It was the same Umbra Crawler that’d captured me and brought me here—I could tell from the string of gore hanging down from its belly, compliments of my bladed gauntlets.
The Queen cocked her head to one side, then struck with lightning-fast fury. Her hand jabbed straight down, her fingers punching through the creature’s skull, killing it in an instant. She pull
ed her hand free and regarded her digits, now coated in slick gore. “I make you this offering,” she said, holding her blood-smeared hand toward me, “blood of my blood, pledged to you in good faith. And now, for your offering.”
I paused, dumbstruck. What exactly did she expect me to do? “My kind aren’t really the blood-sacrificing types,” I replied slowly. “Plus, even if that wasn’t totally awful, I don’t have anyone to sacrifice.”
She smiled and slinked closer, once more dragging her nail down my cheek, this time hard enough to draw blood and knock off a fraction of my hit points. The Queen held up her claw and examined the blood dripping down her talon. “Are you sure about that?” she asked, her voice a hungry buzz.
My stomach dropped as realization dawned on me: she’d set this whole thing up from the beginning. She’d always intended to kill me, she just intended to kill me and get the opportunity of a lifetime from it. Now, there was no way I could go back. She’d maneuvered me firmly into a corner using trickery and deception, and if I didn’t willingly let her murder me, our contract would be void and she’d kill me anyway. Oh boy, was this going to suck hard. I gulped and pressed my eyes shut tight so I wouldn’t have to watch. “Okay,” I said, voice quivering in fear. “I offer you my life, just please make it quick.”
“Oh course,” she whispered, her lips brushing against my ear. Something sharp jabbed straight through my armor and into my chest; fiery agony rolled along my nerve endings as I struggled to breathe—except no air would come. Her hand was inside of me, wriggling around, perforating my lungs and slashing at my internal organs. I wheezed and coughed, blood filling my mouth and dribbling from my lips. Not for the first time, I found myself wondering what kind of monsters the Devs were to allow events like this to happen to players. That thought quickly fled, though, as the Queen leaned into me, filling my nose with a sickly-sweet scent like rotting fruit.
