[Flashback]The Spider and the Bat (Irriari)

by **Dhalvasha** on June 20th, 2011, 7:18 am

22 Fall, 509 AV

Drykas, as a whole, was a smelly culture. Certainly not by their virtue alone, but any creature that spent inordinate amounts of time on and around a horse would begin to smell of heavy mammal. Ever since his arrival to Endrykas, the moving caravan town, the Symnestra had begun to learn that his kind did not belong out here. The grassland was harsh, an unforgiving environment that punished the weak and rewarded the strong. The crafty were appreciated, of course, but paled in comparison to those of raw strength and indomitable will. Apart from their pungent aura, the Drykas as a whole were interesting. The 'pavilions' or family groups relied on each other almost exclusively, but still managed to handle cohesity throughout the group. In a way, every Drykas was family.

Personally, Dhalvasha could relate. The Web was only one unit of relation among his people. Every Symnestrian seemed to know what the other was doing, mostly by virtue of gossip. They were not yet large enough to consider a second home, a tributary city...and so long as the Harvest was a necessary means of procreation, they doubtfully would. It was a dangerous cycle, and eventually a Symnestra would take a surrogate they ought not have, and the howling tides of humans would bare down on their caves.

What would they become then, these pale skinned killers? Would they vanish into the dark tunnels riddling the mountains they lived beneath? Would they die valiantly? Perhaps some divine event would circumvent the war entirely. The latter was, of course, the most unlikely. Immortals seemed to view war and destruction as a personal sport.

Behind him, the distant snorts and whinnies of horses was the only indication he was still within distance of the sleeping city. Night had stopped its movement, if but briefly, and it was now that he ventured deeper. Foolish idealism often bred early deaths, but it was doubtful a Drykas would take time from their daily routines to give Dhalvasha the decency of a pointer on poisons.

He wouldn't ask. Knowing the Drykas (And he did little) they might take some offense knowing a poisoner was among their ilk. His cover story was research, investigating the indigenous species of the grassland in preparation of a book. Certainly not completely false, but a farcry from truth.

Grasses pressed around him like fingers, lifting to trail across his face and body with the seductive hunger of a predator. Shapes loomed from every bend in a stalk and each noise seemed amplified, augmented.

He should not have ventured out.

Leaning down, he felt along the ground beneath the grass stalks for other plants. Mushrooms or even a handful of fungus would do, something he could study. In the dark his eyes were not as much use as they were in Kalinor. It wasn't simply shadows that obscured his vision but wave upon wave of grass swaying gently in the night winds grasp.

Taking a deep breath, Dhalvasha tried to purge himself of thought, of fear. He was a scientist and if each scientist was stopped by fear than no advancement would occur. Society would forever be stuck within its primordial society and his race itself would be hunted down like rats.

He could not return without at least a few samples.

But perhaps he could do the same closer to Endrykas.

by **Irriari** on June 20th, 2011, 5:23 pm

Irriari was too close to Endrykas again, but she was well armed and could see nearly everything in the dark. She had no intentions of staying longer than ten chimes, but her wings needed rest from the long flight through the dark. She paid little attention to the grasses and plants that would have normally called to her, and instead focused all her attention on the shapes and sounds that moved among the foliage. A slight breeze swayed the grasses from side to side, but she did her best to filter the slight movement out in favor of bigger shadows and movement that would alert her to one of the drykas, or worse, a glassbeak.

Irriari pulled her short bow from its quiver and knelt down into the grass while she retrieved an arrow from the leather casing. She quickly ran her clawed finger over the armor piercing arrow, and checked the point before she nuked it to the bow string. Overall, she was pleased by how well the Zith bow had held up, but she knew that Murder would have to re tighten the bones, hair and skin that adorned the bow soon, in order to preserve the look and structure of the bow.

Slowly, she advanced through the grasses, looking for any excuse to shoot, or fly skyward. While a certain amount of edginess was natural in the outside world, Irriari hated to be so tense for too long. Such things led to rash, often irreparable mistakes. The muscles in her wings were slowly starting to feel normal, and she knew that soon she would be airborne returning home to the colony. The length of her flight had been a risk, but it allowed her to clear her mind as she thought of poisons and the colony.

Irriari tensed as she heard a slight rustling in the leaves. It sounded akin to a rabbit searching for a ripe seed in the underbrush but something about the pitch of the noise seemed different. She raised her body slightly, careful to keep her wings steady, as not to disturb the bunches of grass around her feet. In front of her, a man was digging around in the grasses, his tall frame bent down as his fingers searched for something between the dirt and plants. Irriari drew her arrow tighter against the bow strong until she felt the tension pull. With a simple release of her pointer finger and thumb she could shoot him anywhere she pleased. Irriari tried not to think about the results last time she had thought something so grandiose in her mind, and tried to ignore the image of the fleeing rabbit when it popped into her head.

She approached more quickly, and swore softly in Zithanese at the overly tall man. Life was never simple, was it? She had only hoped for a short break before she returned home to sleep, but now, in the middle of drykas territory she was a couple of feet away from the man.

“Who are you?”

The zithanese rolled off her tongue as she adjusted her posture for a fight, making note of his location as her muscles tensed. She didn't bother speaking in Common, knowing that she could shoot the man down before he answered. Surely, at this distance, she could hit some body part, after all, he was much bigger than the rabbit had been.

by **Dhalvasha** on June 21st, 2011, 12:14 pm

Gripping at the long stalks, Dhalvasha quietly threaded his fingers through the grasses and towards the plants beneath. He could feel them, nestling along the earth like hidden snakes, awaiting the unwary to bite too deeply. In the darkness, Dhalvasha could make out the shapes of their leaves, the rise and plump cap of each mushroom, the moss beneath. Any number of these could be one of the fabled horse killers in the sea of grass, a reason why the Drykas did not allow their horses to groom in this part of the grassland.

Gingerly he brushed over the varied textures, sampling each one by touch. After a moment of hesitation, he began picking them from the ground, grasping and pulling in quick measured bursts. Each clump of dirt and vegitation he transferred to a glass jar he'd brought with him. The crossbow was with him to, more a minor thing of defense. His only real goal was to gather and analyze the plants and ecology of the grassland. With the further understanding of poison, possible antidotes and anti-toxins could be produced to counteract Symnestra venom.

Of course it was a small dream, the product of an after thought and hardly the purpose of his journey.

Poison itself, on a level of herbalism understanding, was a beauty of both naturally produced and unnatural variances of ways to kill without attacking. A normal predator had access to perhaps two avenues of toxins in their lifetime, but this cunning spider would borrow from any corner of possibility he could lay his claws on. In order to understand progress, one had to be willing to delve into darker mysteries.

Certainly this was a pale darkness compared to the shadowed paths of magic, but he liked to maintain only certain magics had their use. Poisons...now Poisons were all purposed.

He barely missed the sound of wings, leathery scythes to cut his concentration among the humble plants and remind him of just where he was. The first thought to occur to him was the leathery progress of some massive bat, the creatures living beyond Kalinor's walls and in the depths of tunnels. Turning quickly, jar in hand, he almost expected the screeching descent and poison tipped claws.

Instead there was a woman in front of him. Her wings were aloft, neatly balancing her lithe figure amid the waving grasses. Dark fur crossed her body and framed her face, bright eyes glowing from the depths of her skull and the glint of an arrowhead held taught on a bow.

She spoke to him, but he had no concept of her tongue. It sounded harsh, something of wind and primitive savagery, nothing like the soft whispers of Symenos. Still, this was a problem.

The Drykas spoke of these creatures, Zith, enslaving flyers who rode on the winds and feasted on flesh. Admittedly he had been interested in this other pariah race, almost more hated than his own. Still, this was not the manner in which he wished to meet anyone, much less a Zith.

Holding out one hand, splaying his fingers to show he had no weapon, Dhalvasha coldly regarded her. She was scantily clad, no doubt to cut down on the weight of flight. Unarmored, perhaps he could have taken her. The idea, momentary as it was, seemed foolish even by his standards. No, with his fragile bones he was more like to simply convince the creature he meant no harm (Nor could inflict it should he want to), and try to extricate himself without injury.

"Good eve," He began, slowly, pushing against her aura with his coal-burning eyes, whispering mantras of peace and comfort. How could such a weak and scrawny creature hope to hurt her? He was no Drykas, he was alien to this Sea of Grass. Should she not put down her bow and question? Learn? Admittedly he only hoped that he could tap into a sense of Zith curiosity, that even in savagery they had the ability and desire to learn. "You have not seen the likes of me before, I think, and I am not your enemy." His brow knitted for a moment, a possible problem coming to the forefront which may end the negotiations before they had begun.

"Do you...speak the common tongue?"

by **Irriari** on June 24th, 2011, 1:32 am

Irriari examined the creature closer now that she was assured that he was unarmed and she had the advantage. His limbs, she noted, were long and slender and adorned in black clothing. The creatures hair was long and as white as the full moon above them, though it had been tied back in a loose band of some sort. The lack of hair around his face revealed bright eyes, with wide pupils. His hands were covered in dirt, with bits of plant material still attached to long nails, and Irriari almost smiled at the claw like appearance that were so similar to her own hands. Whatever he was, he was not a half zith, though he hardly seemed to be a threat either.

He began speaking cautiously in common, informing her that he was not her enemy. That, he may have gotten right. While he was no akalak or drykas, he still represented a threat. She continued examining the man as he spoke. He was remarkable. Maybe there was a race that was different like her own. Was he shunned? But then why was he so close to the tent city of the drykas? There were many questions, and such problems made Irriari nervous. She was already afraid, her hand was gripping the arrow too tightly, listening for every sound that could mean that a drykas had spotted her.

“You are a threat.”

She stated it plainly, in common, without any sympathy in her voice.

“Who are you, and why are you here picking plants? Those fungus, they can kill you, you know? Are you with the drykas?”

She didn't lower the arrow or loosen her grasp on it, though she was interested to hear what the strange creature had to say for himself.

by **Dhalvasha** on June 28th, 2011, 8:58 am

Her plaintive statement, although in Common, did not fill the Widow with any semblance of comfort. Despite his clearly nonthreatening demeanor, he still registered as a danger worth pointing arrows at. Dhalvasha did not move, scarcely allowed himself the freedom of thought. One twitch or movement might land an arrow in his breast or somewhere far less pleasant than even that. Without his gear, he had no manner of surgery. Certainly now seemed like one of those opportune times to have developed some offensive or transportative ability. Alas, he had spent his time in the darkness learning Hypnotism. It was that art he relied on now, bending his will to furrow passages into her aura, to repeat such non aggressive assurances of safety and tranquility. Far from manipulative, the Symenestra simply attempted to telegraph that he was the lesser of greater threats around them.

But it was her second sentence that built a foundation of interest for his would-be murderer.

"Poisonous you say?" He said carefully, raising a bit of the fungus clasped in one toward her, "How so? Topical or ingested? Perhaps the spores inhaled?" Perhaps he talked when he was nervous, allowing him to ramble his guesses about the nature of what he held to a creature who likely could care less. Nevertheless, not speaking almost seemed a worst idea comparatively. It left little to the imagination and only tested patience, a virtue Zith were not renowned for.

"No, dear, Drykas are a means to an end I assure you, simply granting me the ability to travel the Sea of Grasses unmolested by its particularly vibrant wild life."

Certainly if it had not been for the equine-centric people, he would have simply had to forgo an opportunity to explore the flora of Cyphrus. Word of the more dangerous horrors lurking in the tall grasses painfully reminded Dhalvasha of how very fragile he was. If the creatures here were a match for an Aklak, then certainly he would fare far worse...given that there were even less places to climb up and away from. The wide empty was a death wish on any who could not fly on Zith wings, fight with Akalak arms, or ride on Strider legs.

"I wanted to examine this section of grassland," he continued, speaking slowly and wrapping each word selectively with Djed, sending it out to her unknowing ears. "I had heard they would not let their Striders graze here, that there was poison among the grasses...I thought to harvest it, examine it even...are you saying it is the moss I hold?"

by **Irriari** on June 29th, 2011, 6:35 am

She watched the oddly colored creature in front of her. He had made no move to attack yet, and seemed surprised to see her. How could he be unarmed in this section of the grasses? While his proximity to the drykas would give him some protection, she highly doubted any of the horse riders would go out of their way to save him from a glassbeak, unless it threatened their own. Still, he was absorbed in his work, whatever it was, when she had stumbled across him. That alone meant that he was either foolish for letting himself lose awareness of the area around him, or that he was protected somehow. Still, she saw no outward weapons, so for now, she would assume that he was foolish, but Irriari would treat him as if he was the most dangerous of vipers.

He probed her for information about the plant, and while not unsettling it jabbed too close to a nerve. She had worked daily to find out which of the fungus in the Sea of Grass were poisonous, with no one to help her, but somehow he expected to be gifted the information. He had not eaten the plants until he got sick, as far as she knew. Until he faced such tribulations, she would be hesitant to share her knowledge with one such as him.

“All of them, some of them or maybe none of them at all. Why do you ask? And how am I supposed to know that you aren't developing poisons for the drykas?”

Irriari didn't bother to tell him that the fungus he was holding was one that she had no experience with. While it shared similar traits to ones she had seen in the colony, unless it was tested, she knew next to noting about it. The mans next answer was enlightening and truthful. Why had the drykas given him permission to walk around unscathed?

Somehow, during the his second statement and the next, her brain had lagged behind her thought processes, but it was hardly perceivable to the zith. It felt similar to exhaustion, in a few ways.

“It is poisonous, I'm sure. You would do well to be careful in handling it.”

And then, the fog was gone, and with the absence of it, Irriari remembered where she was, and she was fearful again. While the conversation she was having was interesting, it could be argued that staying alive was even more fascinating. If the stranger did not pose a threat to her, Irriari knew she would soon be off, flying through the skies.

by **Magpie** on May 26th, 2013, 8:06 pm

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Irriari :

Notes :

If you have any questions or concerns about what was awarded, please don't hesitate to PM me.
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