Crotalus is sitting on one of his blood-stone mesas. His silver spurred boots hang over the edge as he stares off into the rippling horizon of his desert domain.
Eris is back at the Grey Peaks again, technically here to gather intel on the whereabouts of the Mourn family, though also hoping to maybe find Perseus again.
Orchid is overseeing the Arena of Thorns, watching the carnage between her creations and those of other Wills with sadistic glee.
*unfortunately, i don’t feel like playing Perseus currently, sorry!*
an old woman watches one of the fights, dressed in a dirty, tattered old brown dress, stitched back together with various materials over the years. She has a walking stick, overgrown with fungi and mushrooms, her hair messy, with little twigs and branches stuck in it. She has a satchel full of jars and vials of half dead plant and animal specimens. She has a permanent frown on her face, though through her eyes Orchid could see that she’s enjoying the fights.
*That's perfectly fine with me! Perhaps another time when we're both ready!*
Orchid notices the old woman, seeming somewhat intrigued by the collection of specimens she carries, and sends one of her blights down through the arena seating to her, carrying the message that she is invited to speak to the Will of Thorns.
When she hears the message, she chuckles slightly, before getting up and slowly making her way up to the Will of Thorns. Wherever she walks, a trail of fungi sprout behind her.
Orchid watches her with curiosity as she follows the blight past a pair of doors made of brambles and up numerous flights of amber stairs, leading them to the high-up viewing platform where the Verdant Pestilence watches the battles rage on.
"Greetings." They say to her once she arrives, a wide grin on their face.
“I’ve always hoped to one day meet you, the mastermind behind the amber marsh…” she does a slight bow, now grinning as well. She seems... Giddy to meet Orchid, which probably isn’t how most people would react.
"I'm honored- normally, awe isn't the reaction I see to the Amber Marsh and its... ferocious nature." She waves her hand, and a pair of carved amber chairs move from across the room to nearby. "Tell me, what brings you to my domain?" She asks, gesturing for her to sit.
She sits.
”I’m… a bit of an alchemist. I’ve traveled across the world, collecting rare specimens and examining them… the sap of the great tree of Herionidus, the ink gland of a kraken, the seeds of the tallest tree in the Viskwood… and I had an idea. It’s not something I could complete by myself in a mortal lifetime, but with the help of a Will… anyways, I wanted to meet you eventually to give you an idea: I believe I’ve discovered a method, through years of research and through invocations of worlds long past, to create something magnificent, truly terrifying and wonderful in every way: I want to create the perfect organism.”
*Let me see... Ah, here ya go!*
The Will of Thorns' interest continues to grow as she explains her plan. "A perfect organism, you say? That does sound especially intriguing." They think for a moment, a look of insane glee on their face. "Alright, I'll help you with making this new being. What is this method you plan on creating it through?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
Crotalus is sitting on one of his blood-stone mesas. His silver spurred boots hang over the edge as he stares off into the rippling horizon of his desert domain.
Recently, some of the mammals of the desert have been going mad, with wild eyes, foaming at the mouth. The work of Lyssa, no doubt. It seems a small group of humans is first encountering a rabid animal for the first time, one of the coyotes.
Crotalus is sitting on one of his blood-stone mesas. His silver spurred boots hang over the edge as he stares off into the rippling horizon of his desert domain.
The Mirth Manor- a large behemoth of metal and wood carried upon numerous crab-like legs- lumbers across the landscape in the distance in its voyage around the realm.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
Crotalus is sitting on one of his blood-stone mesas. His silver spurred boots hang over the edge as he stares off into the rippling horizon of his desert domain.
Recently, some of the mammals of the desert have been going mad, with wild eyes, foaming at the mouth. The work of Lyssa, no doubt. It seems a small group of humans is first encountering a rabid animal for the first time, one of the coyotes.
"Hon, you see that coyote out there?" says the Mother standing in the doorway of a dusty old homestead. Two small children cling to her skirts.
"I see it." says the Father. "Jimmy, why don't you go fetch, daddy's gun for me? That varmint don't look quite right." One of the children disappears into the house to retrieve his father's weapon.
Crotalus is sitting on one of his blood-stone mesas. His silver spurred boots hang over the edge as he stares off into the rippling horizon of his desert domain.
The Mirth Manor- a large behemoth of metal and wood carried upon numerous crab-like legs- lumbers across the landscape in the distance in its voyage around the realm.
He spies the thing with his empty eyes. He scooches forward, slipping off the edge of the stone formation and plummeting down its scarlet side. He lands cleanly onto of a twister and rides the swirling whirlwind right over to trespasser.
Eris is back at the Grey Peaks again, technically here to gather intel on the whereabouts of the Mourn family, though also hoping to maybe find Perseus again.
Orchid is overseeing the Arena of Thorns, watching the carnage between her creations and those of other Wills with sadistic glee.
*unfortunately, i don’t feel like playing Perseus currently, sorry!*
an old woman watches one of the fights, dressed in a dirty, tattered old brown dress, stitched back together with various materials over the years. She has a walking stick, overgrown with fungi and mushrooms, her hair messy, with little twigs and branches stuck in it. She has a satchel full of jars and vials of half dead plant and animal specimens. She has a permanent frown on her face, though through her eyes Orchid could see that she’s enjoying the fights.
*That's perfectly fine with me! Perhaps another time when we're both ready!*
Orchid notices the old woman, seeming somewhat intrigued by the collection of specimens she carries, and sends one of her blights down through the arena seating to her, carrying the message that she is invited to speak to the Will of Thorns.
When she hears the message, she chuckles slightly, before getting up and slowly making her way up to the Will of Thorns. Wherever she walks, a trail of fungi sprout behind her.
Orchid watches her with curiosity as she follows the blight past a pair of doors made of brambles and up numerous flights of amber stairs, leading them to the high-up viewing platform where the Verdant Pestilence watches the battles rage on.
"Greetings." They say to her once she arrives, a wide grin on their face.
“I’ve always hoped to one day meet you, the mastermind behind the amber marsh…” she does a slight bow, now grinning as well. She seems... Giddy to meet Orchid, which probably isn’t how most people would react.
"I'm honored- normally, awe isn't the reaction I see to the Amber Marsh and its... ferocious nature." She waves her hand, and a pair of carved amber chairs move from across the room to nearby. "Tell me, what brings you to my domain?" She asks, gesturing for her to sit.
She sits.
”I’m… a bit of an alchemist. I’ve traveled across the world, collecting rare specimens and examining them… the sap of the great tree of Herionidus, the ink gland of a kraken, the seeds of the tallest tree in the Viskwood… and I had an idea. It’s not something I could complete by myself in a mortal lifetime, but with the help of a Will… anyways, I wanted to meet you eventually to give you an idea: I believe I’ve discovered a method, through years of research and through invocations of worlds long past, to create something magnificent, truly terrifying and wonderful in every way: I want to create the perfect organism.”
*Let me see... Ah, here ya go!*
The Will of Thorns' interest continues to grow as she explains her plan. "A perfect organism, you say? That does sound especially intriguing." They think for a moment, a look of insane glee on their face. "Alright, I'll help you with making this new being. What is this method you plan on creating it through?"
She chuckles, taking an old leather notebook overgrown with moss, flipping a few pages, and showing Orchid. It’s a complex diagram involving numerous foreign sigils and eldritch signs unknown to orchid, as well as lists and sketches of numerous alchemical ingredients. In the center of the diagram is a human body. “Alchemy can create many things, but it can’t create something living. Magic, at least known in this world, doesn’t give me perfect control over an organism’s traits and complex biology… but I had looked deeper, into ancient lores of dead cults and of the workings of past gods… and I found something, that, with some modification, might work… in my search, I’ve found a ritual for fleshcrafting originally made to turn a mortal into a monster, invented by some mad deity I know not of. I believe we can repurpose this ritual in order to perfectly shape our own organism, rewrite it’s very biology into something flawless, by combining it with alchemy to give us more control over the result.”
Crotalus is sitting on one of his blood-stone mesas. His silver spurred boots hang over the edge as he stares off into the rippling horizon of his desert domain.
The Mirth Manor- a large behemoth of metal and wood carried upon numerous crab-like legs- lumbers across the landscape in the distance in its voyage around the realm.
He spies the thing with his empty eyes. He scooches forward, slipping off the edge of the stone formation and plummeting down its scarlet side. He lands cleanly onto of a twister and rides the swirling whirlwind right over to trespasser.
The Manor continues to amble through the desert as he approaches, before stopping once the people on the gargantuan vehicle notice him approaching. A figure in an emerald green cloak and noble clothes appears in front of the machine- another Will, walking across the sand on numerous spider-like metal legs towards him.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
Crotalus is sitting on one of his blood-stone mesas. His silver spurred boots hang over the edge as he stares off into the rippling horizon of his desert domain.
Recently, some of the mammals of the desert have been going mad, with wild eyes, foaming at the mouth. The work of Lyssa, no doubt. It seems a small group of humans is first encountering a rabid animal for the first time, one of the coyotes.
"Hon, you see that coyote out there?" says the Mother standing in the doorway of a dusty old homestead. Two small children cling to her skirts.
"I see it." says the Father. "Jimmy, why don't you go fetch, daddy's gun for me? That varmint don't look quite right." One of the children disappears into the house to retrieve his father's weapon.
The coyote limps awkwardly in the vague direction of the family, head low to the ground, trying to find something to eat. Its ears perk up, as it spots a small bird perched nearby. Not waiting to get closer to sneak up on it, the coyote immediately lunges towards the tiny animal, catching it in its jaws. It moves awkwardly, not at all like it’s supposed to. It doesn’t notice the family.
Crotalus is sitting on one of his blood-stone mesas. His silver spurred boots hang over the edge as he stares off into the rippling horizon of his desert domain.
The Mirth Manor- a large behemoth of metal and wood carried upon numerous crab-like legs- lumbers across the landscape in the distance in its voyage around the realm.
He spies the thing with his empty eyes. He scooches forward, slipping off the edge of the stone formation and plummeting down its scarlet side. He lands cleanly onto of a twister and rides the swirling whirlwind right over to trespasser.
The Manor continues to amble through the desert as he approaches, before stopping once the people on the gargantuan vehicle notice him approaching. A figure in an emerald green cloak and noble clothes appears in front of the machine- another Will, walking across the sand on numerous spider-like metal legs towards him.
He unharnesses the wind and lets it scatter into swirling eddies. Crotalus stands in the dirt with his bony thumbs stuck in his rattlesnake belt. "Howdy stranger. What brings you and your big ol' homestead to my land?"
The Will of Thorns' interest continues to grow as she explains her plan. "A perfect organism, you say? That does sound especially intriguing." They think for a moment, a look of insane glee on their face. "Alright, I'll help you with making this new being. What is this method you plan on creating it through?"
She chuckles, taking an old leather notebook overgrown with moss, flipping a few pages, and showing Orchid. It’s a complex diagram involving numerous foreign sigils and eldritch signs unknown to orchid, as well as lists and sketches of numerous alchemical ingredients. In the center of the diagram is a human body. “Alchemy can create many things, but it can’t create something living. Magic, at least known in this world, doesn’t give me perfect control over an organism’s traits and complex biology… but I had looked deeper, into ancient lores of dead cults and of the workings of past gods… and I found something, that, with some modification, might work… in my search, I’ve found a ritual for fleshcrafting originally made to turn a mortal into a monster, invented by some mad deity I know not of. I believe we can repurpose this ritual in order to perfectly shape our own organism, rewrite its very biology into something flawless, by combining it with alchemy to give us more control over the result.”
Orchid reads through the lists and diagrams with great interest, grinning ear to ear in an unnervingly literal sense. "How intriguing... even I don't know what some of these sigils are. It does look promising indeed... and, however it turns out, I'm sure the result will be incredible. How can I help?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
Crotalus is sitting on one of his blood-stone mesas. His silver spurred boots hang over the edge as he stares off into the rippling horizon of his desert domain.
Recently, some of the mammals of the desert have been going mad, with wild eyes, foaming at the mouth. The work of Lyssa, no doubt. It seems a small group of humans is first encountering a rabid animal for the first time, one of the coyotes.
"Hon, you see that coyote out there?" says the Mother standing in the doorway of a dusty old homestead. Two small children cling to her skirts.
"I see it." says the Father. "Jimmy, why don't you go fetch, daddy's gun for me? That varmint don't look quite right." One of the children disappears into the house to retrieve his father's weapon.
The coyote limps awkwardly in the vague direction of the family, head low to the ground, trying to find something to eat. Its ears perk up, as it spots a small bird perched nearby. Not waiting to get closer to sneak up on it, the coyote immediately lunges towards the tiny animal, catching it in its jaws. It moves awkwardly, not at all like it’s supposed to. It doesn’t notice the family.
"Dang," grunts the Father.
"I don't what that thing round the house, you hear? You get it to go away. I don't what that varmint around the kids, hon." says the Mother.
"I hear you, hon. It don't look well. Shouldn't be hard to scare it off. Those things are more afraid of us than we are of them." He begins to walk towards the creature taking long, wide steps. He waves his hands above his head and hollers, "Go on now! Git! Git! You go on now you dirty varmint!"
Crotalus is sitting on one of his blood-stone mesas. His silver spurred boots hang over the edge as he stares off into the rippling horizon of his desert domain.
The Mirth Manor- a large behemoth of metal and wood carried upon numerous crab-like legs- lumbers across the landscape in the distance in its voyage around the realm.
He spies the thing with his empty eyes. He scooches forward, slipping off the edge of the stone formation and plummeting down its scarlet side. He lands cleanly onto of a twister and rides the swirling whirlwind right over to trespasser.
The Manor continues to amble through the desert as he approaches, before stopping once the people on the gargantuan vehicle notice him approaching. A figure in an emerald green cloak and noble clothes appears in front of the machine- another Will, walking across the sand on numerous spider-like metal legs towards him.
He unharnesses the wind and lets it scatter into swirling eddies. Crotalus stands in the dirt with his bony thumbs stuck in his rattlesnake belt. "Howdy stranger. What brings you and your big ol' homestead to my land?"
"Howdy. We're traveling throughout the realm for research purposes- well, that and getting away from enemies. This is your domain, yes?" She replies with a faint electrical crackling in her voice, looking at the desert around them with interest.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
"Howdy. We're traveling throughout the realm for research purposes- well, that and getting away from enemies. This is your domain, yes?" She replies with a faint electrical crackling in her voice, looking at the desert around them with interest.
"Yessiree, I'm the proud and rightful owner of every thorny twig and sandy patch in this here desert. From the cacti to the mesas to the vulture nests to the coyote pups." He looks at your marvelous machination, "You some sort of high-falutin' scientist? What sorta research do you do?"
The Will of Thorns' interest continues to grow as she explains her plan. "A perfect organism, you say? That does sound especially intriguing." They think for a moment, a look of insane glee on their face. "Alright, I'll help you with making this new being. What is this method you plan on creating it through?"
She chuckles, taking an old leather notebook overgrown with moss, flipping a few pages, and showing Orchid. It’s a complex diagram involving numerous foreign sigils and eldritch signs unknown to orchid, as well as lists and sketches of numerous alchemical ingredients. In the center of the diagram is a human body. “Alchemy can create many things, but it can’t create something living. Magic, at least known in this world, doesn’t give me perfect control over an organism’s traits and complex biology… but I had looked deeper, into ancient lores of dead cults and of the workings of past gods… and I found something, that, with some modification, might work… in my search, I’ve found a ritual for fleshcrafting originally made to turn a mortal into a monster, invented by some mad deity I know not of. I believe we can repurpose this ritual in order to perfectly shape our own organism, rewrite its very biology into something flawless, by combining it with alchemy to give us more control over the result.”
Orchid reads through the lists and diagrams with great interest, grinning ear to ear in an unnervingly literal sense. "How intriguing... even I don't know what some of these sigils are. It does look promising indeed... and, however it turns out, I'm sure the result will be incredible. How can I help?"
“Well, it’d require an amount of power that I’m afraid I can’t give without dying, but I’m sure would take little effort from a Will. And secondly, since you’re a Will of nature and foliage, I wanted your help… well, designing what this perfect organism would be.
"Howdy. We're traveling throughout the realm for research purposes- well, that and getting away from enemies. This is your domain, yes?" She replies with a faint electrical crackling in her voice, looking at the desert around them with interest.
"Yessiree, I'm the proud and rightful owner of every thorny twig and sandy patch in this here desert. From the cacti to the mesas to the vulture nests to the coyote pups." He looks at your marvelous machination, "You some sort of high-falutin' scientist? What sorta research do you do?"
She looks up at the Mirth Manor as well. "Of sorts- it's as much arcane elements as it is mechanical. I suppose 'artificer' would be more apt a title. As for our research, it is mostly on the other Wills and how they affect the environment around them."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
Crotalus is sitting on one of his blood-stone mesas. His silver spurred boots hang over the edge as he stares off into the rippling horizon of his desert domain.
Recently, some of the mammals of the desert have been going mad, with wild eyes, foaming at the mouth. The work of Lyssa, no doubt. It seems a small group of humans is first encountering a rabid animal for the first time, one of the coyotes.
"Hon, you see that coyote out there?" says the Mother standing in the doorway of a dusty old homestead. Two small children cling to her skirts.
"I see it." says the Father. "Jimmy, why don't you go fetch, daddy's gun for me? That varmint don't look quite right." One of the children disappears into the house to retrieve his father's weapon.
The coyote limps awkwardly in the vague direction of the family, head low to the ground, trying to find something to eat. Its ears perk up, as it spots a small bird perched nearby. Not waiting to get closer to sneak up on it, the coyote immediately lunges towards the tiny animal, catching it in its jaws. It moves awkwardly, not at all like it’s supposed to. It doesn’t notice the family.
"Dang," grunts the Father.
"I don't what that thing round the house, you hear? You get it to go away. I don't what that varmint around the kids, hon." says the Mother.
"I hear you, hon. It don't look well. Shouldn't be hard to scare it off. Those things are more afraid of us than we are of them." He begins to walk towards the creature taking long, wide steps. He waves his hands above his head and hollers, "Go on now! Git! Git! You go on now you dirty varmint!"
It takes a shaky step back, growling at the father. It should be scared of them. But it isn’t. Then, it takes a couple of steps towards the father, as if it were about to lunge at him.
The Will of Thorns' interest continues to grow as she explains her plan. "A perfect organism, you say? That does sound especially intriguing." They think for a moment, a look of insane glee on their face. "Alright, I'll help you with making this new being. What is this method you plan on creating it through?"
She chuckles, taking an old leather notebook overgrown with moss, flipping a few pages, and showing Orchid. It’s a complex diagram involving numerous foreign sigils and eldritch signs unknown to orchid, as well as lists and sketches of numerous alchemical ingredients. In the center of the diagram is a human body. “Alchemy can create many things, but it can’t create something living. Magic, at least known in this world, doesn’t give me perfect control over an organism’s traits and complex biology… but I had looked deeper, into ancient lores of dead cults and of the workings of past gods… and I found something, that, with some modification, might work… in my search, I’ve found a ritual for fleshcrafting originally made to turn a mortal into a monster, invented by some mad deity I know not of. I believe we can repurpose this ritual in order to perfectly shape our own organism, rewrite its very biology into something flawless, by combining it with alchemy to give us more control over the result.”
Orchid reads through the lists and diagrams with great interest, grinning ear to ear in an unnervingly literal sense. "How intriguing... even I don't know what some of these sigils are. It does look promising indeed... and, however it turns out, I'm sure the result will be incredible. How can I help?"
“Well, it’d require an amount of power that I’m afraid I can’t give without dying, but I’m sure would take little effort from a Will. And secondly, since you’re a Will of nature and foliage, I wanted your help… well, designing what this perfect organism would be.
"I'd love to help design it- I already have some ideas. As for the power requirement..." She clenches a fist with one hand, thorns impaling her own hand and dripping amber sap from the wounds, before opening her hand again to reveal it contains a glistening amber gem containing a small piece ion her divine power- 5,000 power points worth. She offers the gemstone to her.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
"Howdy. We're traveling throughout the realm for research purposes- well, that and getting away from enemies. This is your domain, yes?" She replies with a faint electrical crackling in her voice, looking at the desert around them with interest.
"Yessiree, I'm the proud and rightful owner of every thorny twig and sandy patch in this here desert. From the cacti to the mesas to the vulture nests to the coyote pups." He looks at your marvelous machination, "You some sort of high-falutin' scientist? What sorta research do you do?"
She looks up at the Mirth Manor as well. "Of sorts- it's as much arcane elements as it is mechanical. I suppose 'artificer' would be more apt a title. As for our research, it is mostly on the other Wills and how they affect the environment around them."
"That so?" He takes a seat on a large rock and surveys his desert, "My will molds this here environment to be the perfect reflection of life. I have tried to create as honest a land as I can."
The Will of Thorns' interest continues to grow as she explains her plan. "A perfect organism, you say? That does sound especially intriguing." They think for a moment, a look of insane glee on their face. "Alright, I'll help you with making this new being. What is this method you plan on creating it through?"
She chuckles, taking an old leather notebook overgrown with moss, flipping a few pages, and showing Orchid. It’s a complex diagram involving numerous foreign sigils and eldritch signs unknown to orchid, as well as lists and sketches of numerous alchemical ingredients. In the center of the diagram is a human body. “Alchemy can create many things, but it can’t create something living. Magic, at least known in this world, doesn’t give me perfect control over an organism’s traits and complex biology… but I had looked deeper, into ancient lores of dead cults and of the workings of past gods… and I found something, that, with some modification, might work… in my search, I’ve found a ritual for fleshcrafting originally made to turn a mortal into a monster, invented by some mad deity I know not of. I believe we can repurpose this ritual in order to perfectly shape our own organism, rewrite its very biology into something flawless, by combining it with alchemy to give us more control over the result.”
Orchid reads through the lists and diagrams with great interest, grinning ear to ear in an unnervingly literal sense. "How intriguing... even I don't know what some of these sigils are. It does look promising indeed... and, however it turns out, I'm sure the result will be incredible. How can I help?"
“Well, it’d require an amount of power that I’m afraid I can’t give without dying, but I’m sure would take little effort from a Will. And secondly, since you’re a Will of nature and foliage, I wanted your help… well, designing what this perfect organism would be.
"I'd love to help design it- I already have some ideas. As for the power requirement..." She clenches a fist with one hand, thorns impaling her own hand and dripping amber sap from the wounds, before opening her hand again to reveal it contains a glistening amber gem containing a small piece ion her divine power- 5,000 power points worth. She offers the gemstone to her.
She takes the gemstone excitedly, holding it up to the light and examining it. ”thank you… you are very kind…“ she produces a piece of cloth and wraps the amber gem in it, storing it in her satchel.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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Crotalus is sitting on one of his blood-stone mesas. His silver spurred boots hang over the edge as he stares off into the rippling horizon of his desert domain.
*Let me see... Ah, here ya go!*
The Will of Thorns' interest continues to grow as she explains her plan. "A perfect organism, you say? That does sound especially intriguing." They think for a moment, a look of insane glee on their face. "Alright, I'll help you with making this new being. What is this method you plan on creating it through?"
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
Recently, some of the mammals of the desert have been going mad, with wild eyes, foaming at the mouth. The work of Lyssa, no doubt. It seems a small group of humans is first encountering a rabid animal for the first time, one of the coyotes.
The Mirth Manor- a large behemoth of metal and wood carried upon numerous crab-like legs- lumbers across the landscape in the distance in its voyage around the realm.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
"Hon, you see that coyote out there?" says the Mother standing in the doorway of a dusty old homestead. Two small children cling to her skirts.
"I see it." says the Father. "Jimmy, why don't you go fetch, daddy's gun for me? That varmint don't look quite right." One of the children disappears into the house to retrieve his father's weapon.
He spies the thing with his empty eyes. He scooches forward, slipping off the edge of the stone formation and plummeting down its scarlet side. He lands cleanly onto of a twister and rides the swirling whirlwind right over to trespasser.
She chuckles, taking an old leather notebook overgrown with moss, flipping a few pages, and showing Orchid. It’s a complex diagram involving numerous foreign sigils and eldritch signs unknown to orchid, as well as lists and sketches of numerous alchemical ingredients. In the center of the diagram is a human body. “Alchemy can create many things, but it can’t create something living. Magic, at least known in this world, doesn’t give me perfect control over an organism’s traits and complex biology… but I had looked deeper, into ancient lores of dead cults and of the workings of past gods… and I found something, that, with some modification, might work… in my search, I’ve found a ritual for fleshcrafting originally made to turn a mortal into a monster, invented by some mad deity I know not of. I believe we can repurpose this ritual in order to perfectly shape our own organism, rewrite it’s very biology into something flawless, by combining it with alchemy to give us more control over the result.”
The Manor continues to amble through the desert as he approaches, before stopping once the people on the gargantuan vehicle notice him approaching. A figure in an emerald green cloak and noble clothes appears in front of the machine- another Will, walking across the sand on numerous spider-like metal legs towards him.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
The coyote limps awkwardly in the vague direction of the family, head low to the ground, trying to find something to eat. Its ears perk up, as it spots a small bird perched nearby. Not waiting to get closer to sneak up on it, the coyote immediately lunges towards the tiny animal, catching it in its jaws. It moves awkwardly, not at all like it’s supposed to. It doesn’t notice the family.
He unharnesses the wind and lets it scatter into swirling eddies. Crotalus stands in the dirt with his bony thumbs stuck in his rattlesnake belt. "Howdy stranger. What brings you and your big ol' homestead to my land?"
Orchid reads through the lists and diagrams with great interest, grinning ear to ear in an unnervingly literal sense. "How intriguing... even I don't know what some of these sigils are. It does look promising indeed... and, however it turns out, I'm sure the result will be incredible. How can I help?"
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
"Dang," grunts the Father.
"I don't what that thing round the house, you hear? You get it to go away. I don't what that varmint around the kids, hon." says the Mother.
"I hear you, hon. It don't look well. Shouldn't be hard to scare it off. Those things are more afraid of us than we are of them." He begins to walk towards the creature taking long, wide steps. He waves his hands above his head and hollers, "Go on now! Git! Git! You go on now you dirty varmint!"
"Howdy. We're traveling throughout the realm for research purposes- well, that and getting away from enemies. This is your domain, yes?" She replies with a faint electrical crackling in her voice, looking at the desert around them with interest.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
"Yessiree, I'm the proud and rightful owner of every thorny twig and sandy patch in this here desert. From the cacti to the mesas to the vulture nests to the coyote pups." He looks at your marvelous machination, "You some sort of high-falutin' scientist? What sorta research do you do?"
“Well, it’d require an amount of power that I’m afraid I can’t give without dying, but I’m sure would take little effort from a Will. And secondly, since you’re a Will of nature and foliage, I wanted your help… well, designing what this perfect organism would be.
She looks up at the Mirth Manor as well. "Of sorts- it's as much arcane elements as it is mechanical. I suppose 'artificer' would be more apt a title. As for our research, it is mostly on the other Wills and how they affect the environment around them."
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
It takes a shaky step back, growling at the father. It should be scared of them. But it isn’t. Then, it takes a couple of steps towards the father, as if it were about to lunge at him.
"I'd love to help design it- I already have some ideas. As for the power requirement..." She clenches a fist with one hand, thorns impaling her own hand and dripping amber sap from the wounds, before opening her hand again to reveal it contains a glistening amber gem containing a small piece ion her divine power- 5,000 power points worth. She offers the gemstone to her.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
"That so?" He takes a seat on a large rock and surveys his desert, "My will molds this here environment to be the perfect reflection of life. I have tried to create as honest a land as I can."
She takes the gemstone excitedly, holding it up to the light and examining it. ”thank you… you are very kind…“ she produces a piece of cloth and wraps the amber gem in it, storing it in her satchel.