AMIA ARCHIVE • View topic - {IC} Within the Arach-Tinilith

L' Shaiith jalil, the nameless woman; the one that bore no markings of house or city, but the symmetrical, feral streaks of a predatory creature not drow - yet a drow. The conversation between her and the Ilharess of Qos'Yutsu had taken to the Arach-Tinilith. Or, perhaps, what wished to be the Arach-Tinilith but currently stood as a husk occasionally to be crept within.

The shaiith remained. She lingered there for some time after the Ilharess departed to other affairs, while the enormous spider which followed the nameless woman, which she appeared to communicate with at times, has begun filling the pit with layers of silk. Preparing a nest. The two worked in silence of word, unified in intention as a birthing pit was gradually established at the altar. The work continued at the spinnerets of only the spider when Ke'yo entered the temple. For some time they spoke, and when the male finally left, the shaiith continued to tend the webs.

Later on, a large spider is let into the temple. Then a second.

They spin webs designed for nesting rather than hunting along one of the sacrificial chamber walls and suspend themselves there, and remain there as the shaiith and the larger, hairier spider than shadows her leave both the Arach-Tinilith and the Twilight City.

Some cycles later, the shaiith returns with her immense, eight-limbed shadow. Both she and the spider are bloated with food and they move languorously through the populated cavern until the Arach-Tinilith is before them. Though her eyes note the absence of the Duergar laborers, the shaiith makes no word or expression on it as they enter the temple to find the webs spun earlier moved according to shifting preference and alien instinct.

Each of the pale spiders is tended, fed, and their webs taken down; which they immediately begin to spin anew. The shaiith leaves them to their work, moving deeper, to the heart of the temple and the web-laden pit beyond the altar. Quietly, she and the spider descend over the edge and spend the next handful of hours resuming the weaving where it had been left off.

More webs fill the pit, woven to some design that does not immediately betray itself under casual observation.

When the shaiith departs again, this time the pale orb-spinners go with her. None of them are seen for a cycle once they reach the deeper dark.

Shortly after dawn was breaking on the Surface, the quartet cut a direct, but staggered path through Edonil; one followed by another several minutes apart. The two pale spiders with flecks of crimson on their joints and arrows of purple dominating their abdomen and decorating the tips of each limb were the first to return, seeming to know exactly where they wanted to go. Soon to follow was the drow woman with bold, neat swaths of white cutting across the dark of her skin, burdened by a sack woven of thousands of strands slung about her like a papoose and carried just as mindfully. Last came the largest, the obsidian-bodied spider coated in drab, tawny urticating hairs.

One by one, they scaled the subterranean cliffs that elevated the Arach-Tinilith and nestled in a rocky alcove above the tunnel entrance to the north of the Temple proper. The spinners had instinctively set about making themselves feel at home in veils of silk, well along their work by the time the other two arrived. While the cohabitation was obvious, the method of communication was not; no sounds, no apparent gestures were exchanged as the shaiith crept into the latticework of silk until she was at its deepest point and guarded the precious bundle within the curl of her body as she closed to eyes to rest, while the largest spider hunkered down at the mouth of the funnel web nest.

They remain there for some time.

Eventually, the drow emerged from the web to attend to another nest; the one which found itself added upon as the cycles went by. For several hours, the shaiith wove in the sacred chamber with none but the spider for company until Velthura's steps brought her near the precipice. Words were exchanged, then work resumed until fatigue and hunger knotted in her gut. Extracting themselves, the satiation of their hunger laid in wait in the funnel nest just outside the Arach-Tinilith. There they went, retreating into the obscuring layers of silk, to feed, rest and shelter the unhatched eggs.

Several cycles passed without any sign of the shaiith or the spider that was usually in her company. Though the pair of silk spiders could occasionally be sighted creeping along the more inaccessible regions of the cavern near the environs of the Arach-Tinilith, they minded their own and offered no clue as to where drow that tended them so personally had gone.

It was nearly seven days, in the way they were measured in the Underdark, until she was seen again. Words exchanged with Di'es ultimately concluded with the shaiith returning to the Temple not with one sling of eggs, but two. This gift from the priestess was sheltered on her person as the other was, and a portion of each was taken outside of the temple, left in the nursery webs that clotted the space between stalactites; while the remainder of both to be nested within the Arach-Tinilith with each other.

This time, the shaiith did not depart, but stayed there, and it was likely that the a Yath might chance a glimpse of her suspended by layers of silk in the pit, apparently slumbering as she brooded over the eggs.

One hour bled to the next, and though Edonil had seen much placidity in that hemorrhaging time, it was largely beyond the scope of the shaiith who paid mind only to the cycles that were dictated by her own internal rhythms and the instincts of the spiders she tended. Day in and out, she slept in the pit or spun the silk, hunting and acting as need dictated, all the while focused on one paramount concern; the fostering and growth of the eggs, then hatchlings.

As though awakening from a hibernation, there is movement and stirring. For the first time in many cycles, the shaiith leaves Edonil, her drowsy, sluggish manner sloughed off with each step from the temple until she reaches the mouth of the tunnel that adjoins the city to the rest of the depths. By then, she prowls and walks, climbs and creeps with the cadence of a hungry predator.

Her foraging is not merely for food, however, and eventually she returns with a bloated belly but lack of satisfaction with what she has found. Her return to the Arach-Tinilith is swift, and she descends into the pit once more, bearing sustenance for the young.

Yathrin Nizzre’tyne is startled by the sudden appearance of the shaiith. Yet her training allowed that she didn’t jump or gasp. Instead she merely watched as she entered the alter room and made her way back to the pit. Since Nizzre’tyne was standing upon the uppermost steps into the Ul’ath’tallar office she was sure that the shaiith did not even realize she was there.

When Nizzre’tyne was sure that she could move without missing a step she proceeded down. She made a quick mental note to direct her hunting parties to include items for the shaiith. Then the shaiith would be able to best decide what should be given to the Children.

Nizzre’tyne wondered how long it took them to devour the last offering she had made. She quickened her step and a pleased smile formed on her lips at that thought.

The last sac that the shaiith guarded finally crumbled under the many tiny needles of arachnid limbs compelled to breach the confinement of their womb into their nursery some hours later. The massive funnel web positioned on the ceiling of the altar room crept down then at some silent signal, joining the drow in the pit. Each assessed the hatchlings in their own way until they emerged and left the spiders to their first meal.

Many drow were gathered in the antechamber, a sampling of the society each with their own flavor of dominance or submission. It was a strange thing; spiders kept to themselves even when they shared an area, but drow were intensely social and gregarious amongst their own kind in their own way. Their rituals of greeting were performed amongst them as necessitated, their words of instruction, interplays of dominance and submission vibrating the air at varying long and short distances as their conversations waxed and waned in volume or intensity.

Above them, the air gradually filled with radial lines of silk, deftly drawn by the pale limbs of an orb-weaver. Occasionally, it cast out a errant thread which was seized by drow fingers and stretched across the open expanse. These lines were anchored at points along the wall, above the doorways. Over the course the hour, a massive web was taking shape just below the ceiling, tethered to one corner and the crown of the central obelisk that dominated the chamber, spanning arms out to every wall.

Blood still lingered in the air, dried flecks of it caught in the tattered webs that wafted with ethereal slowness in the wake of movement beneath them. It lingered in the back of her nose, in the depths of her throat, and though the wound had been mended, her neck still ached with phantom pains.

Since the attack, the shaiith had not left the heart of the Temple. She spent all of her time canvassing every inch in search of the tinier spiders and assessing their condition, noting the number and the type which had been slain in the collateral. As ever, it appeared that "the Children" were her sole concern, and the aftermath of the politics, even the aftermath of dogma and edict, were far removed from her.

Hours passed to the steady, methodical progression of weaving.

Gradually, the shaiith rebuilt, spanning the ceiling of the sacrificial chamber in wire thin ribbons of silk. Soon to follow, the sundered webs of the entry chamber were torn down and the way cleared to begin again.

The shaiith returned in time with the activity with the Temple, the scouring of the signs of war that had shook its walls and still littered the floor with debris. She had her own tending and keeping to do.

With the tunnel web laying down the silk, she plucks and pulls at it and over the course of several methodical minutes, forms a net of a nest for some of the spider eggs, giving them a protective home behind the metal decor. All along the walls, she seeds in those not yet hatched and bundles of those newly emerged from their sac to fill the caging decorations, to spread out and hunt from there, to feed upon each other and leave only the strongest to survive.

It had been long in the reckoning of shorter lived races since the last the the shaiith had been seen in Edonil. Then, the city had been without the lurking presence of the sacred arachnids and without the webs of their habitation. A sort of sickness, as she described it, had gripped the city. Now, the city flourished with the Children, roaming, hunting and hiding as they were wont.

She stood before the doors of the Arach-Tinilith, refused entry by the attending guards who could find no semblance of society on her, let alone sign of rank, station, or other insignia that might permit her. There came no protest or argument when she was turned back; the shaiith cast her eyes about the silk-latticed exterior of the temple then moved on to other reaches of the cavern with a massive funnel-web creeping quietly in her wake.

Not too long later, the shaiith has a visitation from Yath'tallar Naela, and the two enter the Arach-Tinilith. Shortly after, the shaiith parts with her escort, venturing back out into the cavern.

Ul'ath'tallar Nizzre'tyne, having heard of the incident, without a word found the guards whom had refused the Jabress d'l'Orbb entry. Unless they attempted to struggle or otherwise avoid the Ul'ath'tallars fingers, she grabbed an ear each and marched them into the Temple.

For once 52 was not quick enough as Nizzre'tyne kicked the door to the alter room open with a well placed boot.

She let go of the ears and in a low and menasing voice simply said "Stay." She glided to the center of the summoning circle and bowed low and gracefully to the idol and alter of Lolth.

In a flutter and snap of a cloak that was barely able to keep up, Nizzre'tyne stalked to the guards. She took up an ear each once again and marched them to the Yath'tallar Library and the current posting of the Temple Rankings. She would jerk them by their ears down to eye level with a certain listing and releasing them both stabbed the name with a finger. "Jabress d'l'Orbb"

"Now," she began in an annoyed tone, "do tell the Oloth'Sutrinos and the Oloth'Draada to report to me." She turned and pointed to the exit. "What are you doing up here? Get back to your duty." She would mutter under her breath until she heard them go down the stairs.

//Hopefully I didn't overstep with the spider guard. If so let me know.

When he received the summons, Victyr would attend the Ulath'taller as soon as he could find her!

Victyr leaves an elegantly scripted note for Nizzre'tyne.

My elysian Ulath'taller,

Corrections will be made to the foolish Guard. The exalted Shaiith Orbb needs to speak with you as soon as is possible.

Yours,
Victyr.

The shaiith, meanwhile, had nested herself just outside of the Arach-Tinilith proper that she might be easily found by Nizzre'tyne. She reclined in webs that stretched amongst the ominous, curved talons of the exterior architecture, fresh silk spun in loose, tunnel-like enclosure that was the hallmark of her often present shadow; sharing the confines with it and a pair of other arachnids in stillness and slumber.

Webs that had been vacated months ago and pulled down by entropy were quietly rebuilt. There was no fanfare. A silent departure had been followed by a silent return, as had happened before and was likely to happen in the future.

An outfit of deepest black and cherry red that looked as if it had at one time been a coherent piece of tailoring now hung in the funnel webs outside the Arach-Tinilith as torn remnants. Anyone closely inspecting the clothing would discover what appeared to be the somewhat plain attire that the unranked property of Qos'Yutsu might wear, which had been gutted at the seams. All that remained of it now were two pieces that looked as though they could serve as a chest covering and a rudimentary skirt or loin cloth.

The Jabbress d'l'Orbb, as the Temple knew her, was no where to be seen this particular cycle, but a pair of orb-weavers had taken to spinning their webs near the top of the building, each claiming its own section.

Nizzre'tyne paused to have a closer look. She was interested to see if any pieces of drow were in the webs along with the clothing.

Then suddenly she had a considering look, and an idea sparked. One can only wonder what could be going on in that wicked mind of hers.

There were no signs of flesh on the clothing, and as time went on, the vibrant red coloring on it did not fade to a ruddy brown as blood would have. Although blood periodically stained the silk lair or made little foot prints from where the barefoot drow had walked, none of it seemed related to the outfit, which remained suspended there even when the shaiith returned.

The tempestuous passage of the usually honeyed Ul'ath'tallar drew the pale eyes of the Jabbress d'l'Orbb and gave her pause from silk spinning work. The shaiith did not normally pay attention to drow inhabitants of Edonil, remaining outside of their politics and interplays of power, unconcerned of their anxieties or pleasures. But the highest Yath was important to the Arach-Tinilith and thus, in a way, to the Children; and so the shaiith took notice...

{IC} Within the Arach-Tinilith

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