The sun was just climbing over the horizon when Mother returned, squeezing through the hole that hid her nest, the entrance barely big enough for an adult human to fit through. A calcaphony of clattering legs sounded across the broken, disheaveled floor of what had once been some grand hall, now covered in webbing and a good dozen starving brood waiting for her. Squeals of delight echoed in the hall as the children raced for the sacks that Mother dropped the freshly-captured prey, some of which were still squirming as their bodies were overtaken by poison.
Only one remained behind, observing from her high spot a few paces away from the prey. The thin child was barely half the size of some of her eldest sisters, dressed in rags and clinging to a leaf-bare tree that had died long ago. Their eyes met, and despite the disgust upon her face at seeing the weakest of her last brood, Mother simply gave a nod to the girl. Whenever you're ready, it told her, which the girl wasn't - not until the older sisters had taken their share and left.
So for now she watched Mother, whom looked more exhausted than usual, and certainly worse for the wear. Shimi watched from her perch as the older female's body shuddered, shrinking until she was once more back to a humanoid size, barely covered by a few strips of cloth for the sake of vanity. Now the young girl could see fresh scars upon her body, evidence of a fierce battle no doubt. But one that she'd won. Of course Momma won; there weren't any hunters that could best her around here - or so the young Arachne assumed.
With the coast finally cleared, the little girl slid down the trunk, slinking over to what remained of today's meal. Mother had hers before she arrived, no doubt, and since the males had their own portion to bicker over, what remained was only barely enough to sate her growling stomach. Still, Shimi didn't complain - she knew better than that. Instead she simply took to her fill of the liquefied viscera, not really caring about what it had been before being caught except that it tasted of a dozen different mouths by now. Still, it was either this or starve to death, and fighting for first bites was out of the question.
Mother stood over her, and for once she was kindly rather than harsh. Maybe she knew the youngling was only scraping by and felt some pity for it, or perhaps contemplating whether or not to snapped her neck in the dead of night to be rid of it. Either way, she was being gentle, caressing the youngest one's head as she fed, causing a slight flinch each time but eliciting no other response. Despite some mild irritation from being touched, it was a moment that Shimi hoped would last, even if only just a little longer.
Only one remained behind, observing from her high spot a few paces away from the prey. The thin child was barely half the size of some of her eldest sisters, dressed in rags and clinging to a leaf-bare tree that had died long ago. Their eyes met, and despite the disgust upon her face at seeing the weakest of her last brood, Mother simply gave a nod to the girl. Whenever you're ready, it told her, which the girl wasn't - not until the older sisters had taken their share and left.
So for now she watched Mother, whom looked more exhausted than usual, and certainly worse for the wear. Shimi watched from her perch as the older female's body shuddered, shrinking until she was once more back to a humanoid size, barely covered by a few strips of cloth for the sake of vanity. Now the young girl could see fresh scars upon her body, evidence of a fierce battle no doubt. But one that she'd won. Of course Momma won; there weren't any hunters that could best her around here - or so the young Arachne assumed.
With the coast finally cleared, the little girl slid down the trunk, slinking over to what remained of today's meal. Mother had hers before she arrived, no doubt, and since the males had their own portion to bicker over, what remained was only barely enough to sate her growling stomach. Still, Shimi didn't complain - she knew better than that. Instead she simply took to her fill of the liquefied viscera, not really caring about what it had been before being caught except that it tasted of a dozen different mouths by now. Still, it was either this or starve to death, and fighting for first bites was out of the question.
Mother stood over her, and for once she was kindly rather than harsh. Maybe she knew the youngling was only scraping by and felt some pity for it, or perhaps contemplating whether or not to snapped her neck in the dead of night to be rid of it. Either way, she was being gentle, caressing the youngest one's head as she fed, causing a slight flinch each time but eliciting no other response. Despite some mild irritation from being touched, it was a moment that Shimi hoped would last, even if only just a little longer.
Small, thoughtful steps formed Noel's slow pace. She was in no hurry, nor did she need to hurry. Her eyes were fully open, and aware. She walked on, quietly observing her surroundings, but not once did her eyes avert from where she tread. Her vision looked only towards her destination. Her scent, her hearing and her touch were directed elsewhere - or everywhere, to be exact. Her acute awareness was the base of her skill during combat, alongside her deep understanding of the surrounding air and the way it changed and reshaped upon the presence of another being. One could call it a sixth sense, even.
And still she walked; tracking her game. Her steps carried her along the faint trail she had found, The small, bell-like clink of metal sounded gently each time her armored feet settled on the floor.
Clink... Clink...
It was almost rhythmic, like the ticking of a grandfather clock. And for many, it was the sound of impending death; something she was commonly compared to. Noel was making her way towards a nest, or so she guessed; for the trail of faded essence she was following seemed to be that of a female. And an injured one, at that. Perhaps a reason for the female travelling so far out was to feed more than just herself. Indeed, Noel would often find herself feeling a little sympathetic towards such nests. It would generally be the lead female who attacked first, closely followed by the older members who wished to prove their worth. And that would eventually leave the last one, more than likely the youngest, or even the runt. And so, the smallest would have to watch the rest of its kind fall to their demise, and gaze helplessly towards the slayer; listening to the clink of armor as they walked towards them. There was no rush, after all. No need to hurry. They would merely shudder at the clinking sound. The sound of impending death.
Noel halted. Her stare settled upon the small opening to the nest, which was seemingly coated in the thick matter of webbing. Here? A faint sense of curiosity glided through her conscience, as Noel had never seen an Arachne nest before., despite having a good few years in the profession. It was very similar to what she had predicted, which didn't surprise her much, considering that she was unsure as to what else she could expect from such a spider-like being. The entrance was rather petite, and Noel wasn't particularly short. She was slim, but was a little over the average female height, standing at nearly 5'8. She knelt, placing her gauntlet patched hands either side of the entrance; the curved, talon-like finger guards hooking into the edges.
With a quick, smooth movement, her legs carried forwards and she almost slid through the hole onto the other side. It was dark, unsurprisingly, and it took a little moment for her eyes to adjust. As she stood, she was almost surprised to find herself directly at the heart of the nest, having expected to have found herself within some form of defensive labyrinth.
"Pardon the intrusion," she murmured. Her voice was soft, calm, and barely audible; even quieter than a whisper. She was met by many eyes; certainly too many to count.
And still she walked; tracking her game. Her steps carried her along the faint trail she had found, The small, bell-like clink of metal sounded gently each time her armored feet settled on the floor.
Clink... Clink...
It was almost rhythmic, like the ticking of a grandfather clock. And for many, it was the sound of impending death; something she was commonly compared to. Noel was making her way towards a nest, or so she guessed; for the trail of faded essence she was following seemed to be that of a female. And an injured one, at that. Perhaps a reason for the female travelling so far out was to feed more than just herself. Indeed, Noel would often find herself feeling a little sympathetic towards such nests. It would generally be the lead female who attacked first, closely followed by the older members who wished to prove their worth. And that would eventually leave the last one, more than likely the youngest, or even the runt. And so, the smallest would have to watch the rest of its kind fall to their demise, and gaze helplessly towards the slayer; listening to the clink of armor as they walked towards them. There was no rush, after all. No need to hurry. They would merely shudder at the clinking sound. The sound of impending death.
Noel halted. Her stare settled upon the small opening to the nest, which was seemingly coated in the thick matter of webbing. Here? A faint sense of curiosity glided through her conscience, as Noel had never seen an Arachne nest before., despite having a good few years in the profession. It was very similar to what she had predicted, which didn't surprise her much, considering that she was unsure as to what else she could expect from such a spider-like being. The entrance was rather petite, and Noel wasn't particularly short. She was slim, but was a little over the average female height, standing at nearly 5'8. She knelt, placing her gauntlet patched hands either side of the entrance; the curved, talon-like finger guards hooking into the edges.
With a quick, smooth movement, her legs carried forwards and she almost slid through the hole onto the other side. It was dark, unsurprisingly, and it took a little moment for her eyes to adjust. As she stood, she was almost surprised to find herself directly at the heart of the nest, having expected to have found herself within some form of defensive labyrinth.
"Pardon the intrusion," she murmured. Her voice was soft, calm, and barely audible; even quieter than a whisper. She was met by many eyes; certainly too many to count.
At the first sound of metal upon stone, Mother's eyes widened, her gaze darting towards the door. Perhaps it would have been smarter to have left a labyrinth at the most obvious entrance, but with a brood the size she'd been "blessed" with, it would have been difficult to maintain that and keep the kids distracted and fed. Shimi's eyes followed her, unsure what the reaction meant until Mother shooed her away from the remaining meal and disappeared into the darkness just as a shadow appeared in the entry.
Not so dense as to pause when Momma was frightened, she immediately scampered into the nearest hidey-hole - which she only just barely fit now, there being just enough space to turn around so she could watch as well. Though frightened, she was also excited, or perhaps tense on adrenaline. What could have spooked her so much to force her youngest away from a good meal?
A figure appeared, strange scents rolling off it like a gentle wave; beneath the stench of death and some unknown demon-kin was that which reminded Shimi of some prey Mother had brought back not long ago. But the mixture was all wrong, that much the young demon-kin knew. Prey shouldn't smell like predator as well. What was this thing.
Her sisters - and a few brothers as well - were less wary, most staring from the gloom beyond as they watched the intruder. Shimi noted that she was about Mother's height, in her two-footed form at least, but thicker with muscle, and certainly not invited at all. Glancing up, she saw Mother's outline against the roof, swiftly changing and shifting into her natural form. Thankfully the ceiling was high enough to belong in a cathedral, which the building had perhaps been at one time before infestation and overgrowth had humbled it. That high ceiling hid her nearly wagon-sized body as she finished changing, her sleek black caprice hardening around her as she began doing... something.
As she watched, glancing between the figure and Mother above, she watched her slowly spin a small net, large enough to cover the threat below. Unfortunately, even while being almost paranoidally careful, her motions also dislodged small amounts of dust and debris from the surface, which Shimi watched with horror as it floated and fell down. Still, there were more than a dozen sets of eyes upon the uninvited guest, observing every motion she made - and from her eyes, Shimi could tell a few were getting anxious and tired of waiting. No matter which way the intruder went, she was quite thoroughly surrounded.
Not so dense as to pause when Momma was frightened, she immediately scampered into the nearest hidey-hole - which she only just barely fit now, there being just enough space to turn around so she could watch as well. Though frightened, she was also excited, or perhaps tense on adrenaline. What could have spooked her so much to force her youngest away from a good meal?
A figure appeared, strange scents rolling off it like a gentle wave; beneath the stench of death and some unknown demon-kin was that which reminded Shimi of some prey Mother had brought back not long ago. But the mixture was all wrong, that much the young demon-kin knew. Prey shouldn't smell like predator as well. What was this thing.
Her sisters - and a few brothers as well - were less wary, most staring from the gloom beyond as they watched the intruder. Shimi noted that she was about Mother's height, in her two-footed form at least, but thicker with muscle, and certainly not invited at all. Glancing up, she saw Mother's outline against the roof, swiftly changing and shifting into her natural form. Thankfully the ceiling was high enough to belong in a cathedral, which the building had perhaps been at one time before infestation and overgrowth had humbled it. That high ceiling hid her nearly wagon-sized body as she finished changing, her sleek black caprice hardening around her as she began doing... something.
As she watched, glancing between the figure and Mother above, she watched her slowly spin a small net, large enough to cover the threat below. Unfortunately, even while being almost paranoidally careful, her motions also dislodged small amounts of dust and debris from the surface, which Shimi watched with horror as it floated and fell down. Still, there were more than a dozen sets of eyes upon the uninvited guest, observing every motion she made - and from her eyes, Shimi could tell a few were getting anxious and tired of waiting. No matter which way the intruder went, she was quite thoroughly surrounded.
For a short moment, Noel could have sworn that she had seen what she would have recognized as the mother of the brood. It seemed as though the moment she had laid eyes on the alpha was the moment she disappeared. However, despite losing track of the most powerful entity in the nest, Noel was most certainly aware of the many lesser arachne which now tightly surrounded her. The air was so thick with their repulsive aura that she could no longer pin point the direction of the injured female she had being following. Her vision now slid around towards her left, her head turning ever so slightly. The darkness extended to a point where the glisten in the many eyes of her surrounding foes was her only visual reference as to their location; the rest would need to be accounted for through her other senses.
The atmosphere condensed into a dense matter of tension, but even so, Noel did not shift her position. She stood completely still. She could feel it; the growing impatience of her enemy. They were a little more reserved than her average hunt, it seemed, as Noel would almost never find herself launching the first offense. They seemed to be resisting their urge to strike at her, which gave Noel an odd thought. Perhaps they were waiting for something.
Tiny shards and shrapnels of debris floated down and settled at Noel's feet. As they fell, her pupils dilated minutely as they fixated on them. Her head tilted back a little, and her sight was directed upwards. The ceiling was mightily high, but she could just make out a disturbingly large life form residing slyly upon it. Her emotions twisted in repulsion and disgust, for Noel had never been fond of spiders, let alone behemoth sized ones. There was something Noel found to be awful about them; perhaps the fact that they had too many of everything. Too many legs, to many eyes, too many children. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to decipher the movements of the creature. They were meaningful, and almost rhythmic, and from what Noel could tell, were weaving together some form of sheet. A trap, perhaps? Clever.
Noel's success in relocating the mother had caused her to almost completely disregard the brood. A sudden disturbance in the tension caused a dramatic increase in her speed. Someone's impatience had gotten the better of them, it seemed, and from the corner of her eye, Noel saw the black silhouette of an arachnid morph leap maliciously towards. With monstrously quick reaction.time, Noel extended her arm, catching the lesser beast midair, her hand wrapping firmly around its 'neck' (the gap which connected the head to the abdomen). Her eyes wide and suddenly frenzied, the briefest fleck of green flashed across the iris', as she released her powers as a small fraction to grant herself a slight increase in strength.
Her hand squeezed tighter, almost to the point where it could be classed as a fist. The hardened outer skin of the male demon began to crack and crush, and the creature itself began to squirm and squeal; immediately regretting performing such a rash action of attack. Eventually, the painful whines silenced, as the head separated from the abdomens completely, leaving a dark, tacky substance which coated the steel surface of Noel's gauntlets.
She quickly turned, surveying over the rest of the brood to ensure that they would not follow their brother into a mass attack; and then faced upwards once more, towards the mother again. A small, green glow began to surround her left hand; and the shine in her eyes intensified along side it. She waited patiently for the completion of whatever the alpha was planning. Regardless of its properties, Noel intended on burning it. Burning it into vapour. She had almost assured herself that the others would not attack until after the mother had acted; considering that they had all been audience to the executions of the male beforehand. Indeed, there was an odd sense of intelligence about this colony; a feeling that they actually possessed a level of common sense.
The atmosphere condensed into a dense matter of tension, but even so, Noel did not shift her position. She stood completely still. She could feel it; the growing impatience of her enemy. They were a little more reserved than her average hunt, it seemed, as Noel would almost never find herself launching the first offense. They seemed to be resisting their urge to strike at her, which gave Noel an odd thought. Perhaps they were waiting for something.
Tiny shards and shrapnels of debris floated down and settled at Noel's feet. As they fell, her pupils dilated minutely as they fixated on them. Her head tilted back a little, and her sight was directed upwards. The ceiling was mightily high, but she could just make out a disturbingly large life form residing slyly upon it. Her emotions twisted in repulsion and disgust, for Noel had never been fond of spiders, let alone behemoth sized ones. There was something Noel found to be awful about them; perhaps the fact that they had too many of everything. Too many legs, to many eyes, too many children. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to decipher the movements of the creature. They were meaningful, and almost rhythmic, and from what Noel could tell, were weaving together some form of sheet. A trap, perhaps? Clever.
Noel's success in relocating the mother had caused her to almost completely disregard the brood. A sudden disturbance in the tension caused a dramatic increase in her speed. Someone's impatience had gotten the better of them, it seemed, and from the corner of her eye, Noel saw the black silhouette of an arachnid morph leap maliciously towards. With monstrously quick reaction.time, Noel extended her arm, catching the lesser beast midair, her hand wrapping firmly around its 'neck' (the gap which connected the head to the abdomen). Her eyes wide and suddenly frenzied, the briefest fleck of green flashed across the iris', as she released her powers as a small fraction to grant herself a slight increase in strength.
Her hand squeezed tighter, almost to the point where it could be classed as a fist. The hardened outer skin of the male demon began to crack and crush, and the creature itself began to squirm and squeal; immediately regretting performing such a rash action of attack. Eventually, the painful whines silenced, as the head separated from the abdomens completely, leaving a dark, tacky substance which coated the steel surface of Noel's gauntlets.
She quickly turned, surveying over the rest of the brood to ensure that they would not follow their brother into a mass attack; and then faced upwards once more, towards the mother again. A small, green glow began to surround her left hand; and the shine in her eyes intensified along side it. She waited patiently for the completion of whatever the alpha was planning. Regardless of its properties, Noel intended on burning it. Burning it into vapour. She had almost assured herself that the others would not attack until after the mother had acted; considering that they had all been audience to the executions of the male beforehand. Indeed, there was an odd sense of intelligence about this colony; a feeling that they actually possessed a level of common sense.
Indeed, the reaction had given the brood reason to pause; even Mother hesitated in her work, pure rage bleeding from her like a tidal wave. But she was not foolish, and did not press the attack; she'd thought the brood could hold until she finished, but this menace needed to be removed swiftly. For their part, even the more aggressive little ones remained where they were, less intent upon assaulting the villain than they had been before.
Shimi clamped her mouth down before a squeal could emerge. Tha-that t-th-thing... it had killed one of her brothers so easily. Granted, they weren't the strongest, but the creature had just plucked him out of the air. Terrified, she backed into her hole, whimpering quietly to herself, not wanting to be any closer to that thing than she could manage.
Outside the safety of that little hideyhole, the brood was becoming increasingly distraught, but Mother remained out of reach. The net was abandoned, and probably at best would serve as a distraction as it fell, drifting lazily to the floor. Of course, Mother was not about to stick around and figure out what the creature below was going to do about the aborted net; she quickly scurried to another part of the ceiling, reaching deep into herself to touch upon something she had not used since her younger days...
From Noel's point of view, the area around her began to grow impossibly darker, blotting out the eyes of the many brood that surrounded her. The air became suffocatingly thick, until each breath felt like it was drawing a thick soup into her lungs. Through the fog, a large shape formed, and just as quickly disappeared. Smaller shapes darted through the gloom, small dings and cuts appearing as they connected with armor and flesh indiscriminately. Behind Noel, the entrance abruptly seemed much more inviting than before - or was that further into the den? With the way the black fog was acting, she could be wandering further into the nest.
Of course, none of that was happening; the Mother was drawing upon illusions to distract and misdirect the woman, and unless she did something the "entrance" would lead her right into the ring of broodlings - and that would be that. A dozen starving children were more than enough of a match for a lone, confused human, no matter how powerful. Continuing her concentration, she cautiously lowered herself to the floor, broodling scattering from where she landed as she crept closer to the intruding female. Curious, the children gathered around her, watching intently as the trap. If she could get close enough to bite the offender, even just once... Heck, even just drive the bitch from her lair would be good enough, so she could relocate them, and build a better nest this time.
Shimi clamped her mouth down before a squeal could emerge. Tha-that t-th-thing... it had killed one of her brothers so easily. Granted, they weren't the strongest, but the creature had just plucked him out of the air. Terrified, she backed into her hole, whimpering quietly to herself, not wanting to be any closer to that thing than she could manage.
Outside the safety of that little hideyhole, the brood was becoming increasingly distraught, but Mother remained out of reach. The net was abandoned, and probably at best would serve as a distraction as it fell, drifting lazily to the floor. Of course, Mother was not about to stick around and figure out what the creature below was going to do about the aborted net; she quickly scurried to another part of the ceiling, reaching deep into herself to touch upon something she had not used since her younger days...
From Noel's point of view, the area around her began to grow impossibly darker, blotting out the eyes of the many brood that surrounded her. The air became suffocatingly thick, until each breath felt like it was drawing a thick soup into her lungs. Through the fog, a large shape formed, and just as quickly disappeared. Smaller shapes darted through the gloom, small dings and cuts appearing as they connected with armor and flesh indiscriminately. Behind Noel, the entrance abruptly seemed much more inviting than before - or was that further into the den? With the way the black fog was acting, she could be wandering further into the nest.
Of course, none of that was happening; the Mother was drawing upon illusions to distract and misdirect the woman, and unless she did something the "entrance" would lead her right into the ring of broodlings - and that would be that. A dozen starving children were more than enough of a match for a lone, confused human, no matter how powerful. Continuing her concentration, she cautiously lowered herself to the floor, broodling scattering from where she landed as she crept closer to the intruding female. Curious, the children gathered around her, watching intently as the trap. If she could get close enough to bite the offender, even just once... Heck, even just drive the bitch from her lair would be good enough, so she could relocate them, and build a better nest this time.
The release of the net triggered a sudden, sharp motion from Noel, where she lifted her arm so that her palm faced directly towards the ceiling. The green light which pulsated around her hand shifted and twisted; before leaving her hand completely in the form of a malevolent, firey explosion. The way in which the net burned up so easily was somewhat pathetic in Noel's view, and it took her a moment to realize that the net had not been given the purpose of trapping her anyway. After the dust of the burnt debris had cleared, the absence of the mother proved that the net was in fact an abandoned project.
Noel had made a quick error of judgement. She had severely underestimated the mother of this brood, and by the time she had realized this the next form of offense had already been marshaled against her. The thickening of the air she breathed was sudden, and inflicted a cacophonous amount of stress on what remained of her human biology. Her head lowered and she stared intently at the ground as she tried to understand the concepts of what was happening. The large span of darkness which smothered her so maliciously did not cause her to feel any fear; rather, Noel felt a sense of realization, in that this was perhaps what it felt like to know that an inevitable death was approaching.
A deep, unexpected scowl forced itself onto Noel's usually placid expression as she felt herself being attacked. Her feet shifted beneath her despite her best attempts at keeping them rooted, and her shoulders arced at the many slashes she was enduring. Even so, something was awfully odd. She could feel the thickness of the air and she could see the darting figures, and she could most certainly hear the high pitched scrapes and slashes of steel, but, she could not sense anything. When a creature, regardless of its level of power, makes way for an attack, Noel is able to tap into the flow of energy it uses to cause the movements in its body. The higher the strength of the opponent, the easier they are to read. However, much to her own confusion, these many darting shapes - presumably arachne - released no such energy. Such things were impossible, unless the being in question had no physical form.
No physical form. The potent wash of realization flowed quickly, and Noel looked up again, with a sudden gaining of new intelligence. Indeed, these happenings did not have a physical form, as they were not real. With straining effort; Noel turned her head towards the entrance. Her instincts were driving her to rush towards; to leave and come back with aid. And she almost did, her every muscle screaming out to leave this dreaded environment. But...
She closed her eyes. Look at nothing. Hear nothing. She repeated this over and over in her head, so much so that her lips moved slightly as though she was almost whispering it. In her mind, she quietened her own senses, and essentially expanded her conscience, searching. She searched carefully through the illusions, looking for the real enemies she was facing. She pictured it in her head, reading the pulses of energy she felt to try and determine the locations of the dozens of spider-beings.
Three of them are moving in, quickly. Perhaps they were becoming aware of what she was doing.
Eyes still closed, Noel reached behind her, her back still bent as she tried to resist the painful feelings of the illusion. Her hand clutched soundly onto the hilt of her sword, and she withdrew it a few mere inches; its grotesque curvature becoming apparent. She paused, and she waited for just a moment, until she felt the three moving broodlings leap towards her. At that point, the sword withdrew fully at an awful speed, and slit the three denizen's across their abdomens in a single, smooth slash. Their attack was cut short, and they fell to the floor. She had cut them as carefully as she could; just enough to kill them, but not enough to dismember them. She had surprised herself with this shot, and regarded it as lucky, as it was incredibly difficult to determine their accurate locations without the input of her most dominant senses of sound and sight. She was almost sure that such luck would not occur again, and Noel would certainly not be able to fight effectively in such a disturbed and handicapped state. A dark, almost sadistic intent filled her thoughts. If she could not fight them all off alone; she would have them kill each other, instead.
This would be a straining exercise in her current state, but it was certainly her best chance at overcoming the current situation. She squeezed her eyes tighter as she concentrated on the general location that the three arachne had fell, and once again, her lips began to move, this time murmuring some form of deep incantation which sounded blackened and evil even on its own. For the first time in a short while, her eyes re-opened, this time fully illuminated with the familiar sickly green colour of her black magic. This same shade circled the ground which the three corpses lay upon, and the cracking of bones and the resealing of flesh was heard as they began to regain their movement. Raising the dead was child's play under the usual conditions, but Noel wondered how long she would be able to hold onto this whilst her mind was weighted by so much stress. These were no weakling's illusions. No, these were immeasurably powerful, like a poison. Noel could not waste time playing around with this nest - the mother was intelligent, sly, and undoubtedly more powerful than any standard demonic being.
The three corpses she had reanimated began to attack their own brothers and sisters. It was a sad thought, really, as they would quickly be overwhelmed and neutralized anyway. But, the few lives they will have taken before they are killed again will be reanimated too; even if the three only managed to bring down one of their siblings each before once again meeting their demise, that would mean that she could resurrect three more, and three more again, and again. It was a deeply cruel and unfair technique to use, but Noel was unaffected by such moral issues. Morality had eroded away from her conscience a long time ago.
Noel had made a quick error of judgement. She had severely underestimated the mother of this brood, and by the time she had realized this the next form of offense had already been marshaled against her. The thickening of the air she breathed was sudden, and inflicted a cacophonous amount of stress on what remained of her human biology. Her head lowered and she stared intently at the ground as she tried to understand the concepts of what was happening. The large span of darkness which smothered her so maliciously did not cause her to feel any fear; rather, Noel felt a sense of realization, in that this was perhaps what it felt like to know that an inevitable death was approaching.
A deep, unexpected scowl forced itself onto Noel's usually placid expression as she felt herself being attacked. Her feet shifted beneath her despite her best attempts at keeping them rooted, and her shoulders arced at the many slashes she was enduring. Even so, something was awfully odd. She could feel the thickness of the air and she could see the darting figures, and she could most certainly hear the high pitched scrapes and slashes of steel, but, she could not sense anything. When a creature, regardless of its level of power, makes way for an attack, Noel is able to tap into the flow of energy it uses to cause the movements in its body. The higher the strength of the opponent, the easier they are to read. However, much to her own confusion, these many darting shapes - presumably arachne - released no such energy. Such things were impossible, unless the being in question had no physical form.
No physical form. The potent wash of realization flowed quickly, and Noel looked up again, with a sudden gaining of new intelligence. Indeed, these happenings did not have a physical form, as they were not real. With straining effort; Noel turned her head towards the entrance. Her instincts were driving her to rush towards; to leave and come back with aid. And she almost did, her every muscle screaming out to leave this dreaded environment. But...
She closed her eyes. Look at nothing. Hear nothing. She repeated this over and over in her head, so much so that her lips moved slightly as though she was almost whispering it. In her mind, she quietened her own senses, and essentially expanded her conscience, searching. She searched carefully through the illusions, looking for the real enemies she was facing. She pictured it in her head, reading the pulses of energy she felt to try and determine the locations of the dozens of spider-beings.
Three of them are moving in, quickly. Perhaps they were becoming aware of what she was doing.
Eyes still closed, Noel reached behind her, her back still bent as she tried to resist the painful feelings of the illusion. Her hand clutched soundly onto the hilt of her sword, and she withdrew it a few mere inches; its grotesque curvature becoming apparent. She paused, and she waited for just a moment, until she felt the three moving broodlings leap towards her. At that point, the sword withdrew fully at an awful speed, and slit the three denizen's across their abdomens in a single, smooth slash. Their attack was cut short, and they fell to the floor. She had cut them as carefully as she could; just enough to kill them, but not enough to dismember them. She had surprised herself with this shot, and regarded it as lucky, as it was incredibly difficult to determine their accurate locations without the input of her most dominant senses of sound and sight. She was almost sure that such luck would not occur again, and Noel would certainly not be able to fight effectively in such a disturbed and handicapped state. A dark, almost sadistic intent filled her thoughts. If she could not fight them all off alone; she would have them kill each other, instead.
This would be a straining exercise in her current state, but it was certainly her best chance at overcoming the current situation. She squeezed her eyes tighter as she concentrated on the general location that the three arachne had fell, and once again, her lips began to move, this time murmuring some form of deep incantation which sounded blackened and evil even on its own. For the first time in a short while, her eyes re-opened, this time fully illuminated with the familiar sickly green colour of her black magic. This same shade circled the ground which the three corpses lay upon, and the cracking of bones and the resealing of flesh was heard as they began to regain their movement. Raising the dead was child's play under the usual conditions, but Noel wondered how long she would be able to hold onto this whilst her mind was weighted by so much stress. These were no weakling's illusions. No, these were immeasurably powerful, like a poison. Noel could not waste time playing around with this nest - the mother was intelligent, sly, and undoubtedly more powerful than any standard demonic being.
The three corpses she had reanimated began to attack their own brothers and sisters. It was a sad thought, really, as they would quickly be overwhelmed and neutralized anyway. But, the few lives they will have taken before they are killed again will be reanimated too; even if the three only managed to bring down one of their siblings each before once again meeting their demise, that would mean that she could resurrect three more, and three more again, and again. It was a deeply cruel and unfair technique to use, but Noel was unaffected by such moral issues. Morality had eroded away from her conscience a long time ago.
The effect of Noel's demonstration of power was immediate; Mother's concentration waned as she saw her own shambling back to her brothers and sisters, bewildered by what she was witnessing. They had just been cut down - how could they be up and about?! Her remaining living children were equally confused, having never witnessed necromancy in its purest form before.
Two of the sisters - twins, in fact - called out to their undead sibling, but were attacked regardless, the child's mind no longer her own as she bit her older sister. Venom flowed freely as the other tried to pull the zombie off the living twin, who quickly succumbed to the potent toxins, shuddering and convulsing as she died painfully but swiftly, her body unable to fight against such overwhelming attacks. The living twin, enraged and broken off from her other half, flung herself at the deceased creature that had been a sister, tearing her limb from limb in a fury rarely seen in nature.
Their battle for the nest had turned into a massacre. The Mother smashed one of the revived children with a foot, slowly losing her grip upon the illusions. In an alien tongue she called out to her remaining brood, instructing them to scatter immediately. She would not lose this brood to such an abomination, and as she swatted one of the remaining undead children with another spindly leg she returned her focus to the intruder, now full-on furious.
When she renewed her attack, there was no subtlety to it; it was one will against another, hers trying to smash the intruder's mind to splinters with a fierce onslaught of foreign sensations, mindless hatred, and unbound sorrow for her own lost children. It was everything she could do to continue, hoping that it would either drive the intruder mad, or keep her rooted in place long enough to deliver a killing blow.
If she could just get close before the woman attacked next, it would be over. Even such a sharp sword was considerably dull to cut through own armor; a direct pinpoint strike could do the job, but that would mean the intruder would need to know exactly where to aim. Her chest carapace had withstood musket blasts and close-range arrows before, though the weaker joints would have more trouble blocking a strike, so she was not worried about being hurt by the woman's blade, though the strength she had displayed was definitely unsettling. Holding her arms at defensive angles, she inched closer, deep in concentration, her wrath barely bound by sanity and what patience she had left.
Shimi was utterly useless; she remained where she was, even as she heard the cries of her siblings as they were attacked and killed. The littlest of the brood sniffled and cried softly to herself, trying to drown out the horrors that were occurring above. She hoped Momma would end this quickly, so she could go back to being picked on again, which suddenly didn't seem so bad.
Strangely, some part of her wanted the assailant to murder the brood. After all, they hadn't treated her with any respect at all, and they were getting their just dues. Of course, not even the meanest of her sisters deserved to be forcibly resurrected and turned against their own, but she did not know about that...
Two of the sisters - twins, in fact - called out to their undead sibling, but were attacked regardless, the child's mind no longer her own as she bit her older sister. Venom flowed freely as the other tried to pull the zombie off the living twin, who quickly succumbed to the potent toxins, shuddering and convulsing as she died painfully but swiftly, her body unable to fight against such overwhelming attacks. The living twin, enraged and broken off from her other half, flung herself at the deceased creature that had been a sister, tearing her limb from limb in a fury rarely seen in nature.
Their battle for the nest had turned into a massacre. The Mother smashed one of the revived children with a foot, slowly losing her grip upon the illusions. In an alien tongue she called out to her remaining brood, instructing them to scatter immediately. She would not lose this brood to such an abomination, and as she swatted one of the remaining undead children with another spindly leg she returned her focus to the intruder, now full-on furious.
When she renewed her attack, there was no subtlety to it; it was one will against another, hers trying to smash the intruder's mind to splinters with a fierce onslaught of foreign sensations, mindless hatred, and unbound sorrow for her own lost children. It was everything she could do to continue, hoping that it would either drive the intruder mad, or keep her rooted in place long enough to deliver a killing blow.
If she could just get close before the woman attacked next, it would be over. Even such a sharp sword was considerably dull to cut through own armor; a direct pinpoint strike could do the job, but that would mean the intruder would need to know exactly where to aim. Her chest carapace had withstood musket blasts and close-range arrows before, though the weaker joints would have more trouble blocking a strike, so she was not worried about being hurt by the woman's blade, though the strength she had displayed was definitely unsettling. Holding her arms at defensive angles, she inched closer, deep in concentration, her wrath barely bound by sanity and what patience she had left.
Shimi was utterly useless; she remained where she was, even as she heard the cries of her siblings as they were attacked and killed. The littlest of the brood sniffled and cried softly to herself, trying to drown out the horrors that were occurring above. She hoped Momma would end this quickly, so she could go back to being picked on again, which suddenly didn't seem so bad.
Strangely, some part of her wanted the assailant to murder the brood. After all, they hadn't treated her with any respect at all, and they were getting their just dues. Of course, not even the meanest of her sisters deserved to be forcibly resurrected and turned against their own, but she did not know about that...
A small, discreet sigh escaped from Noel's slightly parted lips as the hallucinations began to fall apart. The ache in her head dulled and faded away, and reality began to reinstall its presence. Now she clearly saw the massacre which lay almost at her feet; pools of blood and dismembered spider limbs; a scattering of corpses, much like an open graveyard. Some of the supposed dead were still twitching as they clinged on to their last breaths. She looked back up and gazed somewhat distantly at the mother, who was, to no surprise, frenzied with rage.
And in a quick moment, Noel herself felt that rage, in the form an intense and screeching wave of distortions and hallucenigenic delusions. Her head tilted back at the sudden mass of pain and her hands raised to clutch either side of her own skull in a feeble attempt at quelling the nightmare. Her knees began to feel unstable and she felt as though she had lost complete control of her own body. She was blinded of reality; immobilized and useless. The whole thought of it infuriated her. Her jaw clamped and her teeth ground violently together in her powerful attempts at fighting away the mother's offense, and the moment she managed to regain some control of herself, was the moment she lifted her arm directly into the air; and with as much force as she could muster, she slammed her hand flat out on the ground with such strength it rattled like thunder. She had concentrated all of her unholy powers into this one motion; so much so that beneath her armor, her muscles twitched and her veins began to protrude. It wasn't often that she went this far to neutralize an enemy. For the most part, she was reserved, calm, and strict with herself. In order to keep what was left of her human nature, she would try and avoid using so much power that her body began to deform to accommodate it. But, in this situation; with a powerful creature messing with her head, Noel cared little for such restrictions.
The sharp hooks on the end of Noel's gauntlets were etched into the stone floor, and beneath her palm, a small crater had formed from the impact; and four, small cracks extended in each direction. Forwards, backwards, left, and right. These cracks began to expand, carrying with them a green light which poured from Noel's arms as she attempted to locate the mother through the illusions. One of the cracks extended to the ground beneath the mother, and Noel's head raised to face in that direction, her expression contorted with an inhuman rage, and her currently sightless eyes burning with a foul and poisoned hatred.
"There you are, you bitch."
From her already crouched position, Noel's legs retracted even further as she built up a solid amount of power in them; and then, she leaped forward with such force that shards of stone debris were sent flying behind her. She powered towards the mother at high speed, bracing her sword so that she may land the most powerful strike she could. Once again her energy flowed directly into her sword arm; so that she could hopefully deal a great amount of damage to the mother. Even if she could only clip the arachne queen in her illusion; it would at least deal some damage. She could not see the arrangement of the arachne's armored body, so she could only hope that this maneuver was enough to damage it.
And in a quick moment, Noel herself felt that rage, in the form an intense and screeching wave of distortions and hallucenigenic delusions. Her head tilted back at the sudden mass of pain and her hands raised to clutch either side of her own skull in a feeble attempt at quelling the nightmare. Her knees began to feel unstable and she felt as though she had lost complete control of her own body. She was blinded of reality; immobilized and useless. The whole thought of it infuriated her. Her jaw clamped and her teeth ground violently together in her powerful attempts at fighting away the mother's offense, and the moment she managed to regain some control of herself, was the moment she lifted her arm directly into the air; and with as much force as she could muster, she slammed her hand flat out on the ground with such strength it rattled like thunder. She had concentrated all of her unholy powers into this one motion; so much so that beneath her armor, her muscles twitched and her veins began to protrude. It wasn't often that she went this far to neutralize an enemy. For the most part, she was reserved, calm, and strict with herself. In order to keep what was left of her human nature, she would try and avoid using so much power that her body began to deform to accommodate it. But, in this situation; with a powerful creature messing with her head, Noel cared little for such restrictions.
The sharp hooks on the end of Noel's gauntlets were etched into the stone floor, and beneath her palm, a small crater had formed from the impact; and four, small cracks extended in each direction. Forwards, backwards, left, and right. These cracks began to expand, carrying with them a green light which poured from Noel's arms as she attempted to locate the mother through the illusions. One of the cracks extended to the ground beneath the mother, and Noel's head raised to face in that direction, her expression contorted with an inhuman rage, and her currently sightless eyes burning with a foul and poisoned hatred.
"There you are, you bitch."
From her already crouched position, Noel's legs retracted even further as she built up a solid amount of power in them; and then, she leaped forward with such force that shards of stone debris were sent flying behind her. She powered towards the mother at high speed, bracing her sword so that she may land the most powerful strike she could. Once again her energy flowed directly into her sword arm; so that she could hopefully deal a great amount of damage to the mother. Even if she could only clip the arachne queen in her illusion; it would at least deal some damage. She could not see the arrangement of the arachne's armored body, so she could only hope that this maneuver was enough to damage it.
The Mother barely had time to contemplate before she needed to react to the next assault, which was definitely more than just show this time. Running was out of the option - there wasn't enough space in that span of a mere few seconds to do more than regain her footing after that intense ground pound, nor was she going to give the bitch a free attack upon her retreating offspring. Not stupid enough to stay exactly as she was, the Mother turned slightly, arms held defensively at wide angles to the angle of attack so as to deflect the oncoming blow as best she could, then hopefully find some way to disable the creature.
However, she severely underestimated the strength of her opponent. Noel's strike grazed off the Mother's left forearm, but even that greatly-diminished blow shattered her toughened carapace. Pain shot through her limb as it went numb from shock, the grand beast screeching in pain as the pieces scattered. Her affected arm fell to the side, utterly useless for the moment; it would heal, but only if given time. Right now, the Mother had more to worry about than healing herself.
Now officially enraged, she turned as she scoured the darkness, searching for the freak that had dared to wound her majestic form. Sensing a large enough disturbance nearby, the Mother twisted towards it and started reaching for her spells... but nothing happened. Left bewildered and stunned, the pain in her injured arm increased ten-fold, causing her to stumble, a rasping gasp escaping as the agony clung to her. She'd overtaxed herself in attempting to kill this intruder, and now paid for her arrogance.
As for the broodlings, the smarter ones heeded their mother's warning and were actively fleeing, though there were only a handful left alive. The rest were either dead by the assault of their undead siblings, or were too injured to flee, and chose to hide as best they could. Of course, in the chaos, a few had been trampled and left for dead as well.
However, she severely underestimated the strength of her opponent. Noel's strike grazed off the Mother's left forearm, but even that greatly-diminished blow shattered her toughened carapace. Pain shot through her limb as it went numb from shock, the grand beast screeching in pain as the pieces scattered. Her affected arm fell to the side, utterly useless for the moment; it would heal, but only if given time. Right now, the Mother had more to worry about than healing herself.
Now officially enraged, she turned as she scoured the darkness, searching for the freak that had dared to wound her majestic form. Sensing a large enough disturbance nearby, the Mother twisted towards it and started reaching for her spells... but nothing happened. Left bewildered and stunned, the pain in her injured arm increased ten-fold, causing her to stumble, a rasping gasp escaping as the agony clung to her. She'd overtaxed herself in attempting to kill this intruder, and now paid for her arrogance.
As for the broodlings, the smarter ones heeded their mother's warning and were actively fleeing, though there were only a handful left alive. The rest were either dead by the assault of their undead siblings, or were too injured to flee, and chose to hide as best they could. Of course, in the chaos, a few had been trampled and left for dead as well.
Noel's arm ached as it cracked back into its normal form. The veins which protruded from her skin sunk back beneath her flesh as she restrained her power; her muscles twitching as they shrunk again. She had set a large amount of power in her sword arm in order to achieve that blow, and it had caused it to bulge with sudden strength. It wasn't a painless return, either. She winced a little as she pulled the demonic essence back out of her arm, allowing it to return to a much more human state. Her fingers curled tightly around the hilt of her sword, cracking her finger joints.
The blade of Skalrung was lightly painted with blood, a mix of the mother and her children. Knowing that she had indeed hit something, Noel turned, only a little at first, and as she gazed over her shoulder at the now wounded Arachne the green fog in her eyes shifted away, leaving the dark, flat colour of her maroon iris'. She turned fully now, walking slowly - carefully - towards the injured demon.
"If you can understand me, I suggest you listen." Noel's voice painted no emotion, and contained no hint of hesitation. "It doesn't have to be painful, don't drag this out." Her footsteps stopped so that she was stood around two feet away from the Arachne. She could almost feel the agony when she was this close.
Her free arm reached over, and gripped the hilt of her sword so that she held it with two hands now. She raised it over her shoulder, much like an axe. Her eyes fixated on the connection between the head and the carapace; a quick execution. She almost pitied the mother in that magic was seemingly no longer an option for her. This was almost Noel's version of mercy; a swift and painless death was essentially a gift in demon slaying.
"I can make it quick," she paused, her stare delving deeply into her target. "It's an honorable discharge, really." Noel was tense, yet alert. It would not surprise her if the Arachne attacked again; death or glory was a common philosophy among both greater and lesser demons.
The blade of Skalrung was lightly painted with blood, a mix of the mother and her children. Knowing that she had indeed hit something, Noel turned, only a little at first, and as she gazed over her shoulder at the now wounded Arachne the green fog in her eyes shifted away, leaving the dark, flat colour of her maroon iris'. She turned fully now, walking slowly - carefully - towards the injured demon.
"If you can understand me, I suggest you listen." Noel's voice painted no emotion, and contained no hint of hesitation. "It doesn't have to be painful, don't drag this out." Her footsteps stopped so that she was stood around two feet away from the Arachne. She could almost feel the agony when she was this close.
Her free arm reached over, and gripped the hilt of her sword so that she held it with two hands now. She raised it over her shoulder, much like an axe. Her eyes fixated on the connection between the head and the carapace; a quick execution. She almost pitied the mother in that magic was seemingly no longer an option for her. This was almost Noel's version of mercy; a swift and painless death was essentially a gift in demon slaying.
"I can make it quick," she paused, her stare delving deeply into her target. "It's an honorable discharge, really." Noel was tense, yet alert. It would not surprise her if the Arachne attacked again; death or glory was a common philosophy among both greater and lesser demons.
The arm hung limp still, but there was something worse. Like an infection it spread, and soon the Mother was shaking her head viscously, stars forming in her vision as something ripped at her brain. Other limbs began to fail, and a horrible wave tore through her, forcing her to lose control for a moment and scream.
The Mother stumbled, falling to her front two pairs as her back legs failed her. For the first time she spoke, her voice strained, grating and alien to any human ears. "MonSTer..." she managed to utter, coughing up more blackened blood as she stared down at the woman, child-like beside such a beast. Her breath was heavy "nO BettEr... thAN what YoU hunt. WonDEr hOw Long beFORE th-thEY hUnt YOu."
She must have either been ancient or formally trained, to learn how to speak in her demon form. But that mattered little now, as her haste and mistakes had cost her dearly, and internal damage would kill her even if Noel did not finish her off. Something about that blow... it had to have been more than just pure strength, she was sure of it. Something about the necromantic energy, likely - not that it meant a damn.
Her breath quickened as her heart slowed, unable to regenerate faster than the damage done to her could leak by. The two that were holding her up only did so just barely and even then not for long, forcing the Arachne into a compromising position - her hands were the only thing keeping her from face-planting into the ground. If she only had the strength...
Another ripple of nausea ran through her, and more blood and bile erupted from her throat, covering the ground around her. She was going to die within minutes. Had some of her broodlings escaped? was the last of her thoughts that came to mind as her body expired. Weakly she spoke once more, staring at death's own door as she rasped between clenched teeth "I will wATch.. from the buRNing gate... for yOUr arRIVal."
All was getting quiet. Shimi could hear Momma talking, but the words were muffled from her hidey-hole. Curiosity finally got the better of the broodling, and she crept to the entrance of her hiding spot, cautiously lifting the lid ever so carefully.
The sight she saw was... well, mixed. A good half or more of her brothers and sisters had been torn apart or died in some other manner, laying about the area like inanimate rag dolls. For some reason, though, the little spider child felt nothing. Not even a twinge of guilt. They had been mean, tormented her; while there was some sadness at not having playmates, in all she felt... strangely glad they were gone.
Her attention then turned to the climax, and she watched her mother - her invincible protector! - stumble, fall to her hands and belly, disgraced, as the unknown creature stood over her, sword prepared to deliver a killing blow. That made the Arachne broodling cringe. Tears began streaming down her face as she covered her mouth, trying not to scream. Which was understandably difficult, given the circumstances.
The Mother stumbled, falling to her front two pairs as her back legs failed her. For the first time she spoke, her voice strained, grating and alien to any human ears. "MonSTer..." she managed to utter, coughing up more blackened blood as she stared down at the woman, child-like beside such a beast. Her breath was heavy "nO BettEr... thAN what YoU hunt. WonDEr hOw Long beFORE th-thEY hUnt YOu."
She must have either been ancient or formally trained, to learn how to speak in her demon form. But that mattered little now, as her haste and mistakes had cost her dearly, and internal damage would kill her even if Noel did not finish her off. Something about that blow... it had to have been more than just pure strength, she was sure of it. Something about the necromantic energy, likely - not that it meant a damn.
Her breath quickened as her heart slowed, unable to regenerate faster than the damage done to her could leak by. The two that were holding her up only did so just barely and even then not for long, forcing the Arachne into a compromising position - her hands were the only thing keeping her from face-planting into the ground. If she only had the strength...
Another ripple of nausea ran through her, and more blood and bile erupted from her throat, covering the ground around her. She was going to die within minutes. Had some of her broodlings escaped? was the last of her thoughts that came to mind as her body expired. Weakly she spoke once more, staring at death's own door as she rasped between clenched teeth "I will wATch.. from the buRNing gate... for yOUr arRIVal."
All was getting quiet. Shimi could hear Momma talking, but the words were muffled from her hidey-hole. Curiosity finally got the better of the broodling, and she crept to the entrance of her hiding spot, cautiously lifting the lid ever so carefully.
The sight she saw was... well, mixed. A good half or more of her brothers and sisters had been torn apart or died in some other manner, laying about the area like inanimate rag dolls. For some reason, though, the little spider child felt nothing. Not even a twinge of guilt. They had been mean, tormented her; while there was some sadness at not having playmates, in all she felt... strangely glad they were gone.
Her attention then turned to the climax, and she watched her mother - her invincible protector! - stumble, fall to her hands and belly, disgraced, as the unknown creature stood over her, sword prepared to deliver a killing blow. That made the Arachne broodling cringe. Tears began streaming down her face as she covered her mouth, trying not to scream. Which was understandably difficult, given the circumstances.
Noel's thoughts were blank as the Mother screamed and fell. The sound almost seemed to flow right past her as she blocked the noise out. It was a familiar sound, and one of the few things she wished she could forget. The necromancer, whilst so attuned to the concept of death, had never quite become used to the agony felt before it. It was twisted, in that the once powerful arachne Mother now lay before her, gravely weakened and surrounded by the gory corpses of her brood.
She was oddly surprised as the Mother spoke, not that she had expected any less. Her expression shifted a little, her brows furrowing down ever so slightly. Monster. The reminder came a little heavy, and her stance appeared to weaken a little before she suppressed the upset of her human conscience. "That I may be," she began, her voice softer now. "But only a monster can kill a monster." The rest of the broodlings had scattered now, Noel noticed. However, she showed little, as very few would survive without the protection of the Mother. They were too young, and too rash. They would find themselves being hunted by greater demons, or begin to starve from inexperience. It was cruel, but the outcome would have been the same even if they had stayed and fought.
A small, satisfied smirk crept onto Noel's face at the mention of the burning gate. "Then you'll be waiting among many others, I look forward to it." Her arms braced a little, her fingers curled tightly around the grip of her sword; twisted and repulsive in its steel shape. Her eyes fogged a little in faint green as she poured a little extra power into her forearms. She intended on ended it in one blow, which would require a bit of extra effort in order to pass through the thickened skin of the Arachne Mother.
"Sleep well."
A high-pitched ring echoed as she swung the sword down, leaving a crescent-shaped blur as it sliced cleanly through the air to meet the skin of the Mother's neck.
She was oddly surprised as the Mother spoke, not that she had expected any less. Her expression shifted a little, her brows furrowing down ever so slightly. Monster. The reminder came a little heavy, and her stance appeared to weaken a little before she suppressed the upset of her human conscience. "That I may be," she began, her voice softer now. "But only a monster can kill a monster." The rest of the broodlings had scattered now, Noel noticed. However, she showed little, as very few would survive without the protection of the Mother. They were too young, and too rash. They would find themselves being hunted by greater demons, or begin to starve from inexperience. It was cruel, but the outcome would have been the same even if they had stayed and fought.
A small, satisfied smirk crept onto Noel's face at the mention of the burning gate. "Then you'll be waiting among many others, I look forward to it." Her arms braced a little, her fingers curled tightly around the grip of her sword; twisted and repulsive in its steel shape. Her eyes fogged a little in faint green as she poured a little extra power into her forearms. She intended on ended it in one blow, which would require a bit of extra effort in order to pass through the thickened skin of the Arachne Mother.
"Sleep well."
A high-pitched ring echoed as she swung the sword down, leaving a crescent-shaped blur as it sliced cleanly through the air to meet the skin of the Mother's neck.
Shimi couldn't take her eyes off the sight. Mother - strong, sweet, ageless Mother - was relenting to this creature! Surely her wounds hadn't been so great, but even as she watched the little broodling knew inside that it was over. So she watched, tension building as the hunter creature gloated over her defeated prey.
And when the moment came, all little Shimi could do was scream. Scream, and scramble back deeper into her hidey-hole. It was stupid and childish, only lasting a few desperate, terrible moments, but the sight was just too much for her to take. The only one that had taken care of her, her life now stamped out as the Mother's newly-freed head rolled away from the clean slice, body slackening into death.
Even worse, she couldn't stop sobbing. Muffled cries could easily be heard from the hole, even after the cover fell back into place with her retreat. Covering her mouth only did so much, as the final image played over and over in the broodling's mind. It would be some time before she was able to calm down on her own, and not soon enough.
As if things weren't bad enough, hallucinations began taunting the child; Shimi swore she could feel her Mother's caress again, as she laid in her silk-lined hiding space...
For Noel, something about the Mother's death might seem a bit off. The body immediately went limp, without hardly a death spasm nor even a twitch. Plus, no death curse, no final insults from her - nothing. How eerily calm she'd been at death's door might unsettle the huntress somewhat, but it was not entirely unheard of; sometimes, prey lost the will to live, and with the casualties that the Mother had taken it wasn't out of the question.
And when the moment came, all little Shimi could do was scream. Scream, and scramble back deeper into her hidey-hole. It was stupid and childish, only lasting a few desperate, terrible moments, but the sight was just too much for her to take. The only one that had taken care of her, her life now stamped out as the Mother's newly-freed head rolled away from the clean slice, body slackening into death.
Even worse, she couldn't stop sobbing. Muffled cries could easily be heard from the hole, even after the cover fell back into place with her retreat. Covering her mouth only did so much, as the final image played over and over in the broodling's mind. It would be some time before she was able to calm down on her own, and not soon enough.
As if things weren't bad enough, hallucinations began taunting the child; Shimi swore she could feel her Mother's caress again, as she laid in her silk-lined hiding space...
For Noel, something about the Mother's death might seem a bit off. The body immediately went limp, without hardly a death spasm nor even a twitch. Plus, no death curse, no final insults from her - nothing. How eerily calm she'd been at death's door might unsettle the huntress somewhat, but it was not entirely unheard of; sometimes, prey lost the will to live, and with the casualties that the Mother had taken it wasn't out of the question.
A quick flick of Noel's arm was enough to free the excess blood which now dripped freely from her blade. The droplets pattered on the ground like rain, breaking the new sound of silence, and Noel fixated her gaze on the now lifeless body of the Mother. There was something about it, however, which bothered Noel. It was a little too lifeless. Normally, something that had recently deceased would always contain traces of the life that once inhabited it. It would still radiate the energy that Noel had grown so attuned to. However, as she gazed down at the Mother, she felt nothing. Not a single shred of the demonic power that was there merely seconds ago. It was almost as though whatever was inside the body had disappeared, or moved, instantly.
Noel was pulled from her thoughts at the sound of a clear scream - and then sobbing. Or at least, what seemed to be sobbing. Her eyes averted from the Mother's body and towards the direction of the sound. She took a single side step to turn herself around a little, walking slowly towards what seemed to be the source. One of the brood had been left behind, it seemed. Her head tilted slightly as she approached, and she reached her sword arm out, using the pointed edge of the blade to hook under and lift the cover of a small hole.
Noel's brows raised a little in surprise, and her emotions twisted suddenly into pity. She almost felt sorry for the creature that was cowering in the hole. She was tiny; much more so than the rest of the brood, and considerably thinner. The runt, perhaps? It would be a mercy to end the poor thing's life here. Noel guessed that the little arachne had probably never even seen a shred of natural light; and even for a nocturnal being, that was an awful thought.
Noel was pulled from her thoughts at the sound of a clear scream - and then sobbing. Or at least, what seemed to be sobbing. Her eyes averted from the Mother's body and towards the direction of the sound. She took a single side step to turn herself around a little, walking slowly towards what seemed to be the source. One of the brood had been left behind, it seemed. Her head tilted slightly as she approached, and she reached her sword arm out, using the pointed edge of the blade to hook under and lift the cover of a small hole.
Noel's brows raised a little in surprise, and her emotions twisted suddenly into pity. She almost felt sorry for the creature that was cowering in the hole. She was tiny; much more so than the rest of the brood, and considerably thinner. The runt, perhaps? It would be a mercy to end the poor thing's life here. Noel guessed that the little arachne had probably never even seen a shred of natural light; and even for a nocturnal being, that was an awful thought.
Some light poured in, disrupting the child from her sombre mourning. When she looked to the source, Shimi came face to face with the object of her newest nightmares. Squeaking slightly, she shrunk away, but could only back away another hand's breadth before hitting the back of her den. A small whine escaped as she cowered, unsure what to do now; however, there was intelligence in her beady little eyes, as she contemplated her position...
The others had fled. Not one of them would remember her; Shimi owed them nothing. Her own mother was dead now, her decapitated carcass mere steps from the hole that the broodling inhabited; even she was not without fault, however, for having not once given the runt reprieve from her suffering at the hands of the other children. Perhaps there were reasons for it, but they were now forever lost, vanished along with her life. That left Shimi with little in the way of explanations, but there were more pressing issues.
Her options were few at the moment: attacking was pointless, and she had no reason to toss what little of her life there was left away; she could try to dig further, but would likely only get a few more hand's widths further before the huntress would end her. Likewise, staying where she was would get her killed anyhow. There was only one direction to go, and it was likely suicide if she did.
Alone, afraid, and without a chance in Hell at escaping, Shimi started to tear up again. She didn't want to die! If Mother could not have taken down this... thing, then what chance did the runt of her brood have? The situation was completely hopeless, and even the expression of pity from the creature at the burrow's entrance did little to alleviate her terrors. Indeed, it only made her bawl harder as she curled up into a fetal ball, her entire tiny body racked by sobs and whimpers.
The others had fled. Not one of them would remember her; Shimi owed them nothing. Her own mother was dead now, her decapitated carcass mere steps from the hole that the broodling inhabited; even she was not without fault, however, for having not once given the runt reprieve from her suffering at the hands of the other children. Perhaps there were reasons for it, but they were now forever lost, vanished along with her life. That left Shimi with little in the way of explanations, but there were more pressing issues.
Her options were few at the moment: attacking was pointless, and she had no reason to toss what little of her life there was left away; she could try to dig further, but would likely only get a few more hand's widths further before the huntress would end her. Likewise, staying where she was would get her killed anyhow. There was only one direction to go, and it was likely suicide if she did.
Alone, afraid, and without a chance in Hell at escaping, Shimi started to tear up again. She didn't want to die! If Mother could not have taken down this... thing, then what chance did the runt of her brood have? The situation was completely hopeless, and even the expression of pity from the creature at the burrow's entrance did little to alleviate her terrors. Indeed, it only made her bawl harder as she curled up into a fetal ball, her entire tiny body racked by sobs and whimpers.
Noel flipped the lid of the hole back completely, dropping her arm to her side as her vision bore into the tiny demon. Everything was suppressed now; all of her power had sunk back into her core. Her eyes were a flat maroon again, and her physical appearance had reverted back to it's less contorted and more normal structure. Well, normal by Noel's standards. Her hair had once been a full, healthy shade of brown; and her features had never quite been as sharp as they were now. Before the effects of necromancy had taken place, Noel may have even been considered to be rather pretty. There were barely any shreds of that left now, and Noel would often forget that she had once been completely human.
She pulled her elbow back, grasping her sword as though it were a spear. The metal of her spaulders clinked together as she moved, and the floor beneath her scraped slightly as her left foot scuffed back a little. She aimed the point of her sword into the hole, and pinpointed the space right between the trembling demon's eyes.
A few moments passed, and nothing happened. Noel stared down the sword, her muscles tense and her eyes wide and unblinking. She glared strongly at the arachne who had begun to cry and curl up in terror, and the human conscience that Noel thought had been obliterated began to make a small but unwelcome return. It wasn't the feeling of pity as she had previously felt, but the feeling of guilt as she watched the fear she was inflicting on this creature, who's size and stature probably meant that she had never come close to causing the death of any human.
Noel scowled in bitterness towards herself, and the sword lifted up and slid quickly into its sheath. She stood straight and looked away from the arachne, taking a step backwards with a deep sigh. "I've become soft. Disgusting." she gave a hard look at the demon who had caused her to break the basic code of her organisation, and then turned on her heels, walking slowly and almost frustratingly towards the exit.
'Any daemonic, being, entity, or hybrid, is to be executed without trial on the site in which it is found.'
Was she really going to spare it? Noel would certainly receive punishment if anyone were to find out, but the poor runt would probably starve to death on its own anyway, or so she presumed.
She pulled her elbow back, grasping her sword as though it were a spear. The metal of her spaulders clinked together as she moved, and the floor beneath her scraped slightly as her left foot scuffed back a little. She aimed the point of her sword into the hole, and pinpointed the space right between the trembling demon's eyes.
A few moments passed, and nothing happened. Noel stared down the sword, her muscles tense and her eyes wide and unblinking. She glared strongly at the arachne who had begun to cry and curl up in terror, and the human conscience that Noel thought had been obliterated began to make a small but unwelcome return. It wasn't the feeling of pity as she had previously felt, but the feeling of guilt as she watched the fear she was inflicting on this creature, who's size and stature probably meant that she had never come close to causing the death of any human.
Noel scowled in bitterness towards herself, and the sword lifted up and slid quickly into its sheath. She stood straight and looked away from the arachne, taking a step backwards with a deep sigh. "I've become soft. Disgusting." she gave a hard look at the demon who had caused her to break the basic code of her organisation, and then turned on her heels, walking slowly and almost frustratingly towards the exit.
'Any daemonic, being, entity, or hybrid, is to be executed without trial on the site in which it is found.'
Was she really going to spare it? Noel would certainly receive punishment if anyone were to find out, but the poor runt would probably starve to death on its own anyway, or so she presumed.
Shimi was confused by the reaction. It took her a short while, but soon she realized that the creature wasn't stabbing her in the face or casting spells to liquefy her mind. Why wasn't it killing her?
The scene as she exited her literal hole-in-the-ground would have shocked her, had she not already been dazed by the experiences she'd been through today. The deceased forms of her siblings laid all around, some with neat slices that severed limbs or heads while others had been ripped and torn apart. A few showed signs of having been brutally slain, but also had additional wounds on them that were fresher. At the very epicenter of the slaughter, though, was her deceased Mother's corpse, locked forever in her Arachne form as two of her front legs still supported the life-deprived body.
Part of Shimi wanted to break down again at the sight, but her ears picked up that tell-tale clanking as the executioner reached the edge of the nest. Without even thinking she turned to see her unnamed killer... and promptly tripped as she did, landing belly-first with an audible squeak. The world beginning to spin around her head as she tried to get her bearings back.
Were it not for the carnage surrounding her, the broodling's reaction might have been adorable; she tried to push herself to her feet, only to turn once and plop back down onto her rump. It took her a minute or two - and multiple attempts - to figure out which direction was the right one, assisted somewhat by her sense of smell managing to pinpoint the invader's scent.
Still, despite it being a task to stay on her feet after that fall, Shimi managed, and wtih a bit more caution began to follow the woman. There was no plan in her head, no mark for revenge; she was just a lonely child, now orphaned with not much left to live for. If Noel slew her for following, so be it; that was a kinder fate than dying by starvation, or ending up as another creature's snack.
The scene as she exited her literal hole-in-the-ground would have shocked her, had she not already been dazed by the experiences she'd been through today. The deceased forms of her siblings laid all around, some with neat slices that severed limbs or heads while others had been ripped and torn apart. A few showed signs of having been brutally slain, but also had additional wounds on them that were fresher. At the very epicenter of the slaughter, though, was her deceased Mother's corpse, locked forever in her Arachne form as two of her front legs still supported the life-deprived body.
Part of Shimi wanted to break down again at the sight, but her ears picked up that tell-tale clanking as the executioner reached the edge of the nest. Without even thinking she turned to see her unnamed killer... and promptly tripped as she did, landing belly-first with an audible squeak. The world beginning to spin around her head as she tried to get her bearings back.
Were it not for the carnage surrounding her, the broodling's reaction might have been adorable; she tried to push herself to her feet, only to turn once and plop back down onto her rump. It took her a minute or two - and multiple attempts - to figure out which direction was the right one, assisted somewhat by her sense of smell managing to pinpoint the invader's scent.
Still, despite it being a task to stay on her feet after that fall, Shimi managed, and wtih a bit more caution began to follow the woman. There was no plan in her head, no mark for revenge; she was just a lonely child, now orphaned with not much left to live for. If Noel slew her for following, so be it; that was a kinder fate than dying by starvation, or ending up as another creature's snack.
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