The Spider and the Street Knight (Zandelia)

[Dhalvasha]

Fall 69, 511 AV

The venue was not fancy, hardly what anyone would call a respectable dive. Cobwebs clung to the rafters like the pallid phantoms of smoke, long hanging without a pipe to trail to. The barkeep was old, a wizened man with failing business and lower prospects. He had no kin and like most in Sunberth, was far too paranoid to bequeath his business to any who might fix it.

This was the sort of place that would not survive many more seasons.

It made the location perfect.

Dhalvasha trailed a black claw through dust caked to a forlorn table near the edge of the room. His red eyes studied the residue, built by years of sporadic patronage and poor cleaning, but he made no comment. This was a place hallowed by its antiquity, its throwback altar to another time in Sunberth itself. History was here, and warm hands had laid upon this table that may now be cold in alley streets or in shallow graves.

So many wasted lives...such struggling creatures.

Dhalvasha resisted the urge to ask for a drink, casting a wary eye at the bartender who stared back placidly. The heavy axe mounted above him seemed to suggest a stout ale was not the only talent the old fellow had possessed...and Symenestra bones were brittle.

Eridanus had hatched a plan with some street urchin archer about rescuing some slaves...a fool's errand of course, few who wore the yoke of slavery ever escaped it. Even those surrogates crafty enough to escape the Nest carried the marks of their servitude.

They always found their way back.

For the operation, Dhalvasha would be leading a spearhead into the slavers themselves, a favor he would have never agreed to had not the reward promised been favorable. Live subjects perhaps, if the men were not too rough...and the possibility of extra funding for his research was a further incentive for his participation. Honestly the plight of the slaves echoed hollowly in his head. The death of his surrogate had hardened the fate of such unfortunate creatures in his mind. No matter how far one went to save them, each and every one ended up a victim in the end.

They were prey...and once labeled would always be hunted.

He was to meet a woman here, someone who he would be taking with him. Her skills were more akin to murder, the brutal art supposedly no stranger. Dhalvasha was pleased that Eridanus was not foolish enough to believe him capable of infiltration and sabotage alone, but questioned his logic in using a woman.

In Sunberth, women stood out...especially pretty ones.

They bought unwanted attention and uncomfortable scrutiny. Better to be a man and invite only the half threatening gaze of other so-called alpha males strutting their own mongrel pack.

Although with his thin frame and delicate features, who was he to talk?

The thought was comical, if in a dark sense, and it brought the hint of a grin to the doctor's face. Well, no matter. It wouldn't be long before he met her now...and with that first meeting would all opinions be met, would her worth be weighed.

He hoped Eridanus had the sense to choose someone Dhalvasha might like...otherwise things could become...tense.

[Zandelia]

Zandelia had purpose once again, after years of flitting from half-baked schemes to all out stupidity, her quest for recognition and advancement not so much guided by wisdom as it had been led by ineptitude. She saw that now, how her life could be summed up as a string of self-created afflicted events upon her mind, body and soul. No matter how hard she tried to change those facts within her mind the discovery of her father’s tome of cryptic knowledge had forced her to face down her own failings, re-birthing herself in the harsh flames of fatherly criticisms – albeit from beyond the grave. Still, his lashing tongue as personified in the cursive script upon the pages had served to bring her that much closer to her potential, though much work was still to be done. She had learnt much indeed but was far from the spring of perpetual knowledge she had hoped to become by now.

But that will bloody change, and bloody is the damned right word indeed she thought to herself as she stalked the streets towards the Pig’s Foot Tavern, her path set before her in iron-clad chains she could not break.

When Eridanus had first come to her with his plan, in essence a plot to free some Kelvic slaves of little note beyond family bonds, she had laughed at him over her cup of ale. She owed him much but she had seen little need to aid the Ethaefal in a suicidal crusade of altruistic glory. However, the more she had considered – her father’s words tormenting her mind perpetually – she had seen more than had at first met her single eyed gaze in his venture. She cared little for the ones Eridanus wished to free, however she did care about the ones he wished to free them of. Not the most powerful of slavers to be sure, however powerful enough to be well connected – presenting Zandelia with an opportunity she could not let pass her by. So she had told him she would help, and she had been handed a veritable nest of vipers to contend with.

“Not to mention damned well overcoming at that” she muttered to herself as she turned another corner, her Shadowsilk Robes rippling out behind her, muffling not just her passing but her equipment also. She was well equipped with weapons and items of use. Sunberth’s streets were too dangerous not to be planned for every eventuality.

Now she had to meet with her conspirator, the partner whom would work with her to help bring down their foes from within. She knew she had skills for infiltration, abilities for seduction and gathering of intelligence. What she did not know was how this person would help to complement her own abilities and thus secure their successes. She knew little of the man, other than the fact that he was not a man in the truest sense – a Symenestran in point of fact. She hated his kind as humans were want to do with things they knew little of. However, her hatred was not an impassable wall as her innate curiosity more than made it possible to secure friendships, of a kind – Shai herself being proof of that fact. Still, as she pushed open the door and felt the warm blast of heat from the interior of the tavern all but melt the cold from her cheeks she was filled with a portion of reservations.

How can I trust he whom I have not met, and how useful will he be when all is said and done? I do not wish to be the only one to pull the weight in this infiltration. Carelessness will kill me after all she thought to herself as she approached the barmaid and ordered a mug of what she hoped would be mostly ale.

She took the opportunity to scan the room from her vantage point, the many eyes of the men giving her a good look over. Whilst her clothing kept the extent of her feminine curves hidden she would be seen as a woman in the way she moved and few drunken men could resist the imaginings of what she would appear to them without her clothing. Her single green eye glittered in the light of the fire from within her shadowed hood, spying out her target as she sipped upon her beverage, grunting if semi-satisfaction. She began her approach, her bearing all firm confidence and stony walls of impenetrable self-respect that verged upon arrogance in the combination. She sat down opposite her Symenestran partner to be and leaned back in the chair.

“Dhalvasha, I presume?” she asked as she placed her mug carefully upon the table before drawing her hood back to gauge his reaction to her appearance. Everyone reacted differently and in so doing helped to tell her more about their character then their words could ever do justice.

“I was told you would be here by a mutual friend. It would seem we are bound together in fate, hmmm?” she finished as she studied his face as deeply as she dared to.

[Dhalvasha]

Something about humans made it painfully important to swagger their egos. He'd seen it before, a dozen times between Cyphrus and Sunberth's squalor. Perhaps it was an environmental response, some sort of encoded behavior which forced humanity to beat their chests and bare their teeth at any stranger with half their height on em. Personally, the spider found it tiresome. He barely offered a threat to the loping leviathans, scarcely more than superstition and heresy pumping his being with otherworldly power. Certainly it was flattering to be the talk of the time. Dangerous Symenestra, oh dear, how disconcerting. Rumor has it they eat human flesh and drink their blood, or steal daughters off in the nights for their hellish experiments...scary. Dhalvasha smirked, chuckling to himself at each and every one of the fears, including their kernel of truth. After all, no rumor is completely unfounded, but the tales certainly did tickle him to hear.

He was getting ahead of himself.

Ever since he'd taken a seat in the bar, he'd been the eye of the assembly. No one stared at him outright, but it was the shiver of an eye cast in his direction, the shift of tables to accommodate his presence. Personally, Dhalvasha amused himself piercing their aura with jets of spat fear, hypnotism traveling along his eyes like small vipers to strike painful poison into the hearts of the unwary. He preached unease without speaking, sipping water gingerly as his red eyes lanced five...six...seven pairs before laying his cup down again. Each glanced away quickly with something akin to deep unease, all thinking perhaps that this creature had seen through their suspicions, perhaps that it even read minds.

Why not?

Zandelia made her entrance much like he would have expected, self confident, strong, and androgynous until casting aside her hood. She sat and moved with the self assured ease of violence suffusing Sunberth. Did he walk that way as well? Did this city rub off on him and his woefully inadequate combat expertise? It was pointless to ruminate on.

"Clever, did my garb give it away?" He blinked at her with a sardonic smile, leaning back in his own chair till the back rested against the wall, "Or perhaps my complexion, it does so draw the eye."

Placing his mug on the table, he spun it with a claw, sneering at the mention of fate. The lines Sagallius gave him itched. Fate was a foolish errand if ever there was one.

"Bound together by a job, let's not be romantic about the operation." Placing both hands palm down on the table, Dhalvasha scrutinized her for a moment. She was robust, strong...a perfect choice for a Symenestra harvest. Fortunate, perhaps for him and perhaps for her, that he wasn't searching at the moment. "Our objective is simple in concept and complex in operation, secure passage and the rudimentary trust of slavers." He took both hands and splayed out his fingers, shards of white alabaster before folding them together. "I have some medical abilities to tempt their eye and have some ability with persuasion...tell me, what talent besides the virtue of your sex, do you offer in this joint venture?"

[Zandelia]

Zandelia gave the male symenestran a small smile at his words of introduction, calm and collected she heard them as but suspected that a guarded and partially fearful nature lay underneath the clipped and reserved words. After all, a symenestran would have little chance in survival if they made enemies out of the patrons in an inn, not less armed ones. They were a frail and easily damaged species she had learnt, Shai had taught her that though Zandelia knew it to e unintentional at best. None liked to reveal weaknesses, however Zandelia was good at noticing things and any weaknesses were stored in her memories with precise detail – she never knew when such knowledge would prove beneficial, such as at the present moment.

“You think my curves so repulsive as to advocate for them a secondary position of importance in this venture?” she asked him with a raised eyebrow over the rim of her clay cup, “I’m almost insulted. Men have tried to kill for my body. My bust alone is a potent weapon indeed” she chortled as she sipped upon her beverage and took up a leant back position similar to the creature opposite her now. Mirroring of posture was a technique she knew well, one which put many at ease enough to e extremely talkative at times.

He obviously disdains me, and so he must be here on sufferance alone it seems. What leverage does Eridanus have over him that he would risk all for no large returns? she mused to herself as she took a few moments to study the man.

The man was a strange one, hooded and cloaked she saw though made a note that it seemed more out of a desire to minimize the appearance of his frail limbs perhaps more than any desire to be hidden. His eyes glistened as he took in her form, yet the turn of his mouth and his words left little room in her mind for doubt upon his position upon human females. She saw he was overly pale, similar in hue to Shai but not overtly identical. Fangs she knew he would have, though he appeared better at hiding them than Shai had ever been, though they were still there and gently poking below his lips at times. Splayed alabaster fingers graced the table before being inter-twined in a somewhat refined pose, perhaps suggestive of a higher birth status wherever his kind were from. He was certainly rather more aristocratic and dismissive, less uncouth than Shai. Still, Zandelia indeed to show the man-like creature that there were reasons not to be so dismissive of Zandelia Sansom.

“I bring to this escapade what you lack and what is needed, otherwise I would not have been asked to be part of it. You are right to question motives, but wrong in your assumption that I am not capable. I’d wager that one day when you underestimate a human’s worth you may very well end up with a knife in the back,” she began in cool tones, but level and impartial all the same, “but on this occasion it can e forgiven…perhaps” she took another sip of watery alcohol and placed her mug delicately upon the surface of the oak table.

“I can seduce men with little effort you are correct, but it is not to my taste to do so. I prefer more curved forms. No matter, it is still a viable technique for ourselves. Do not be so contemptuous of my willingness to sell my body for advantage – it may very well keep us alive. As to what else I bring you can take your pick. I am stronger than you are, quicker perhaps and versed in the use of both weapons and unarmed combat, something we will quite likely need” she continued in measured tones, considering her own assets and how they would slot into any future scheme between the two of them at the table.

“I also have knowledge in subterfuge and espionage that we might use in our tasks, have a keen eye for observing what is not desired seen and am quite adept at ferreting out secrets and lies. I have even been known to create and spread them on occasion. I can act if the occasion calls for it and above all...I am your best hope at not dying in this venture. So, from what I can see it would seem foolish to look a gift horse in the mouth. I was the only one that would do it, so here I am” she finished with a broad grin that would perhaps unsettle the man as she drained her mug and called for more.

She was not insane in any traditional sense, though she did know it may have appeared that way to many in her life. She merely saw reality in a differing way to others. People looked for temporary gratification, worked for some higher purpose or scrubbed away longing for revenge upon their masters. It was so limiting to her philosophies, entrapment by personal volition. She had realised long ago that the boundaries that seemed to bind society together were mere illusions, to be used and transcended rather than adhered to. She may very well be considered insane for willingly deciding to participate in one of the biggest attacks against slavers for years now, but only by people not able to see the larger viewpoints. Apart from her personal crusade there were the benefits of access to be considered. For a short time she would be within a large slaver’s den, she would have access to documentation and powerful figures if she played her role well. The potentiality for giant leaps in her knowledge, and therefore her status, were far too huge to be turned aside.

He can think me crazy for knowing we may probably die and not caring. Let him see me as inferior of mind and then we’ll see who wins in the end. I’d wager he knows more than he would like to tell me but will end up telling me more than he would like to she thought as she pushed a mug brought by the barmaid towards the symenestran.

“My real questions are how and why you even care enough to be involved in this matter. I don’t want to find out you’re only in the damned thing for the gold and will run away at the first sign of danger. I’d rather not be left alone with angry slavers to contend with by myself. What makes you so special to the group?” she asked him as she weighed him with her eyes and began to raise the energies within her body and settling her mind, leading up to her auristic talents being primed and ready, “I know the others for the most part, but I don’t know you” she pressed onwards as she tilted her head and balanced her concentration upon both her words and the directing of her energies towards her eyes, always into her eyes. It was then that his aura began to flicker into being, slowly but surely.

“Eridanus is not so well connected that he could ask many strangers to commit suicide, nor is he rich enough to buy mercenaries. So I can only surmise he has a hold over you other than wealth and acquisition. Is that connection strong enough to keep you defending my back whilst I defend yours if it all goes wrong around us?” she asked him, seeking to provoke an emotional response by which to begin measuring her auristic findings against in her attempts to learn of the man opposite her.