Solo A Skittering of Feet

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An undead citadel created before the cataclysm, Sahova is devoted to all kinds of magical research. The living may visit the island, if they are willing to obey its rules. [Lore]

A Skittering of Feet

Postby Keene Ward on May 26th, 2015, 5:42 pm

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The eighty-seventh day of spring, 515 AV

Wilhelmina had not spoken to him after their conversation, making the only voices he had heard for the past few days his own and those of the spiders. The arachnids were a curious phenomenon. From what he could tell, it seemed that the spider's size was directly proportional to their respective vocabularies. It also appeared that the spiders were not ones for conversation, at least not in the conventional sense. For the few live specimens he'd captured, neither bigger than the palm of his hand, they were limited to mimicking his own words. There was no indication that the spiders were able to form new words or express any ideas they may or may not have had, and Keene had let them scurry away unharmed, having no reason to harm them. While it was obvious the creatures were not a natural occurrence, there were so many of them that it was difficult to tell whether they were something to be exterminated or a useful presence left to flourish for whatever reason. In any event, they had made a point to avoid him, more or less, and while his investigations had required some of their capture, none of the other spiders had presented themselves to him in protest of any kind.

While the smaller spiders had seemed to support his hypothesis, Keene had been unable to easily capture any of the creatures that were large enough to potentially prove him false. They lived, presumably, within the depths of the many tunnels that spanned the ravine's walls from the canyon's floor to the sky. Since his first night, Keene had kept out of the cobwebbed crevasses, sticking to exploring the mostly featureless surroundings around his camp. His strength had well recovered, in spite of everything, and though the nights were made slightly less uncomfortable by a pit of sand he had constructed in lieu of a mattress, he had grown accustomed to waking sore and stiff, taking time to stretch and condition himself to rid his body of what pain he could before starting the day. More or less adjusted to his new routine, it had finally come time for his investigations to once more lead him into the darkness of the caverns.

This time, however, he had come prepared with candles and a shield that wrapped itself around him, ready to repel any eight legged advances should it come to that. He had no qualms killing the creatures if they gave him reason to, but without reason he saw no need for senseless killing. The ravine was the spider's home. It was unlike the prairie where beasts roamed free and wild until they were eventually dispatched by the Wardens to presided over the area. Whether intentional or not, the spiders had claimed the ravine, and he was little more than a visitor within their midst. If they possessed sentience beyond simple parroting, which the first night had suggested might be possible - even likely -, he wanted to speak with them. While he could learn what he could from the environment around him, it was far more efficient to speak with the resident populace and learn from them rather than the monotonous trial and error of personal experience.

Still, even if the spiders were indeed intelligent, there was no good reason that they share their knowledge with him. It was even likely that his repeated intrusion would be considered hostile, and they would respond in kind. If it came down to it, Keene was prepared to fight his way back to camp, but it was by far the least appealing of the potential outcomes of his impromptu attempt at parley. As he stood outside one of the largest caverns he had found in his explorations, Keene paused, staring into the darkness that hovered just beyond the meager glow of the midday's light from the cloudy sky above.

"Spiders." His voice echoed through the cave, growing distant and muffled with each passing tick. "I would like to speak with you." He let the words echo into nothingness, waiting for a reply that he did not really expect. There was only silence in the wake of his request, and while it was perhaps a staunch refusal of his wishes, Keene took it to mean that his words had not reached the notice of those who might heed them. With a flick of his wrist and a flash of pale blue, his candle was lit as he stepped into the open maw of the cavern's face.

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Keene Ward
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A Skittering of Feet

Postby Keene Ward on August 8th, 2015, 8:17 am

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The darkness darted back and fourth, dancing with the candle's light. Unlike during the night, there were no sounds of skittering feet nor hissed words. Presumably, the spiders were less active during the day, making his foray into the dank and murky recess of what he imagined to be their home slightly safer. Though, safety was relative. The deeper he made his way into the tunnel, the more he wondered if perhaps it would have been better to return once the sun had set. If he wanted to speak with the spiders, it required there to be spiders to speak to, preferably in good spirits. Waking slumbering creatures of any race was never the best way to open negotiations. Still, he'd announced his presence, and night wasn't too far off. If the arachnids had been sleeping, it was doubtful that his echoing words had not awoken at least some of them.

His footsteps were kept soft, though it was impossible to keep the echoing tap of leather against stone from sounding without the help of further shields. Though unwise to move so obviously within the den of a could-be enemy, Keene presented himself as much of a non-threat as he could. The spiders could be useful to him, and if they allowed it, he had little issue with being useful to them. There was movement just outside of his range of vision, the telltale scuttle of furred legs in retreat rather than advance gave him some reason to believe he was more or less to be received by whatever larger creatures were to be found within the ravine's recesses. Either that, or it was a trap. In either event, it seemed that his hypothesis had been correct. The larger the spiders, the greater the intellect. There was the chance that the creatures operated under a sort of hive mind, however, that allowed them greater mental faculties when more and more of them gathered. Judging from the rustling along the walls, if that was the case, he was going to be greatly outmatched in numbers and in rhetoric.

He found the concept of beings who derived their intellect from those around them as a sort of extrinsic brain to be well worth the attention, and as he carefully stepped ever deeper into the cavern's halls, Keene let his mind consider the possibilities of such a construct if applied to humanity or their other humanoid counterparts. It was certainly an interesting concept, though there were too many irritating factors when it came to humans and their natural tendencies towards subjectivity. If the spiders operated as a single unit, many bodies of one mind, they would be something he would prefer to remain neutral at worst. Though, with each passing tick, he found the concept more and more less likely. There was no indication that the scuttling shadows that slipped from the candle's influence were anything more than beasts, smarter than the average beast, maybe, but certainly not quite on the same level as Atziri or Risabel.

When the shadows ceased their retreat, and the furred legs of the spiders could be seen in the wavering light cast by the pale blue flame, Keene came to halt. The spiders did not advance, nor did they retreat, signalling that he had either come to the end of the tunnel or-

"Human." The voice, which was indisputably a voice unlike the hissing whispers he had heard before, was raspy and hoarse, a faint clacking sound muffling the syllables. "We eat human." Though the words were, in their own way, hostile, there seemed to be little vehemence behind them, as if they were more of a statement than a threat.

"Why haven't you eaten me?" Though it may not have been the best question, Keene felt it was warranted. He wanted to understand the creatures, and there was little better way for him to do so than to ask questions. From what he could tell, the voice of what he assumed to be a much larger specimen possessed intelligence enough to converse, unlike the smaller creatures who were little more than parrots.

There was a shuffling silence as legs rubbed against legs in what Keene perceived as thought, though for all he knew it could have been that the spiders were gathering for an attack. No attack came, however, and instead the voice rattled out of the shadows once more. "...Strong human." There was another whispered rustle, presumably the smaller spiders agreeing, though Keene had stopped placing much faith in his perceptions for the time being. The spiders were spiders. Conventional human methods of communication were hardly proper filters to judge the exchange. Still, on words alone, it seemed the spider was wise enough to understand that Keene possessed strength enough to be considered a threat beyond that of a predator or resilient morsel. It was a good start.

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Keene Ward
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Posts: 902
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Joined roleplay: October 16th, 2014, 2:16 am
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A Skittering of Feet

Postby Keene Ward on August 8th, 2015, 9:08 am

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"Do I frighten you?" His own voice was calm and steady. In the confines of the cavern, he had only to raise his voice just above a whisper for it to fill the space with a cool authority. He didn't feel fear in the spiders' presence, though he kept himself on high alert, listening for any change in atmosphere should the spiders decide that the "strong human" perhaps wasn't strong enough.

The spiders hissed. "We don't fear. Spiders strong." There was another bout of hissing, the light of his candle flickering some under the shuddering shadows around him. "Human... Why here. What does human want with spiders?" Here, the spiders stilled, their bodies falling into silence as they waited for his reply. Keene couldn't tell if all of them could understand what he was saying or if only the spokes-creature held any sort of comprehension of what was being said. In either even, Keene supposed that he had gotten what he'd set out to seek.

"I would like your help."

There was a pause before the rattling voice sounded once more. Unlike that of a human, there was little intonation to suggest what the spider thought beyond the words it said. For all Keene knew, it could have been pleased or outraged by the request. "Human wants help?"

"Yes."

Again, the cavern fell into a contemplative hush, only the slight sputter of flame and Keene's steady breath keeping the tunnel from complete silence. When the spider spoke again, there was a slight rustling on the ground as several smaller spiders crept into the influence of Keene's light, dark beady eyes staring up at him as the furred mandibles worked in silent speculation. "What is help?"

Keene frowned. He had not considered the possibility that the spiders might not understand the conventional definitions of the modern tongue. "I have questions I would like answers to. If you answer them, that would help me." The smaller spiders that had crept forward whispered little "answers answers" back and fourth, but the larger voice did not reply. "Where do you get your food from?" There were so many of the creatures, Keene was led to believe there was a steady source of food from somewhere other than the empty barrens of the ravine's main path. If there was more to the area than he had at first perceived, Keene wanted to know about it.

The spider let out a hoarse noise, like a cough or guttural sneer, before it replied. "No. No answer that question." The smaller spiders had begun to recede, their eyes still fixed on Keene and the light he held in his hand. "Human help now. Human tell answer."

Keene frowned, but nodded none the less. "What is your question, spider?"

"Protect spiders. No kill spiders." The creatures seemed to understand the request, several more of them peeking their heads into the light, feet scraping against the stone like leafs in the wind.

He met their gazes, grey green eyes meeting the deep black of the various hairy faces that stared up at him. He couldn't tell what they were thinking, if they thought at all, but it was clear that they were waiting for his words, whether it was to hear his answer or if they had been condition to watch and wait for the noise was anyone's guess. "I will not kill spiders if they do not try to kill me."

The larger spider shifted, the bottoms of its legs coming into view while the rest of it remained shrouded in shadow. Form what Keene could tell, it appeared the creature was at least the size of a Gibbat dog, if not greater. His hypothesis then, was yet to be proven false, it seemed. "No. Never kill spiders."

Keene shook his head, a careful, deliberate motion so as not to startle those gathered. "If a spider tries to harm me, I will kill it." There was a general shudder throughout the assembly of arachnids, and Keene paused for a moment in thought before adding an anecdotal explanation. He had never dealt with beings so vastly different in understanding before, and he wasn't quite sure how to proceed. "If your food tries to harm one of you, what do you do to it?"

"Kill. Eat." The words were echoed throughout the chorus.

"Exactly. To me, you are food that I do not need to eat. If you harm me, I will kill you." It seemed incredibly basic and sounded even more so. Still, the spider seemed to ponder his words, taking its time to reply.

"Spiders not eat human. Human not kill spiders." The phrase "not kill" was whispered throughout the tunnel.

With a curt nod, Keene agreed to the spider's terms, unsure how binding the word of an eight-legged beast was worth but having little else to weight it against. "Yes." The spiders shifted in their places, but remained quiet for the time being. "Now, you will answer my questions."

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Keene Ward
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A Skittering of Feet

Postby Keene Ward on August 8th, 2015, 9:52 pm

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"How far do these tunnels run?"

"Don't know."

"How many of you are there?"

"Many."

Keene found the conversation wanting, and from what he could tell of the spiders' restlessness, he was quickly coming to the end of whatever time he had been allotted. Choosing his next question carefully, Keene's voice was slow and steady, the spiders responding to his soft tone by calming some until the question itself was asked. "Is there another I can speak to? One who knows more?" The smaller spiders shuffled backwards, retreating into the shadows as their hissing words filled the air. Mother. Mother. Mother. The air had grown more tense, and Keene's djed shifted within him, the clouds rumbling within him, ready to shift into res should he need it. Though the spiders had most certainly become agitated, the voice spoke once more, it's raspy clicking voice slightly louder than before.

"Human leaves now." Even without tone or body language to augment the words, Keene understood that his time had run out. Still, it had not been entirely fruitless. It seemed there was another, presumable the creature that had borne those gathered around him. With a nod, Keene turned and headed back the way he had come. He could hear the skittering steps behind him, and while he could see only the shifting shadows, he knew that the black, beady eyes were as fixed to him as the stone was to the surrounding walls. There was no move to attack, though the atmosphere had certainly become much more hostile. For the time being, Keene found that the tentative truce would be held. The duration of the peace, however, was nebulous. He didn't know if the spiders possessed a memory comparable to his own, or if they were more beasts of the present. Whatever the case, as he made his way through the twisting tunnel, Keene kept his attentions focused mainly on the immediate surroundings, careful to remain alert and not allow the spider's perceived passivity to lull him into a false sense of security.

Relative safety was found as he exited the cave, though the candle provided him the only light as night had long since set over the ravine. He turned to stare back into the skittering darkness that he had just left, some of the scurrying shadows darting into and out of his light as they ran out into the ravine's open canyon. Presumably, the spiders were hunting. They had not told him where they got their food from, and while Keene found a small spark of curiosity bloom in his chest as he gazed after the little creatures, the weariness of his own body was a bit more of a stronger pull. As he stopped near his campsite, Keene checked the shields, running his fingers along the twists and curls of the frosty coatings, making sure they were still well enough in tact. Finding no issues, Keene ducked into under the cover of stone, laying back and not bothering to remove the shield he'd cast over himself earlier. There was no reason to walk about unprotected.

Staring up at the slight shimmer the shield cast in his field of vision, Keene slowly drifted off to sleep. His mind buzzed with the events of the past, and though they hung heavy about him, they did not stop his descent into fitful unconsciousness.

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Keene Ward
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A Skittering of Feet

Postby Aladari Coolwater on September 15th, 2016, 2:42 pm

Grades on hold due to inactivity.

It looks like you haven't been on since January. If you decide to come back, PM me and I will finish your grades.
"The sea always filled her with longing, though for what she was never sure."
- Cornelia Funke
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