DJORN - The Girl in the Spider’s Nest

“Above all things one must strive to eradicate all forms of corruption. Even if one is to allow such acts to go unpunished, thee is still guilty and thoroughly deserves the outcome of whatever this corruption brings.” 

— Izekiel, the Archthrone

There was a time when I could not stand on my own. There did exist a shred of a moment in which I was not powerful enough to face this world’s challenges. The first of these challenges had one eye, stood fifty feet tall, wielded an enormous axe constructed of steel and bone, could breath fire and made its home in the Cave of Gongor.

This was Gongor, the giant fire cyclopes of the Velspar Region. I had travelled, from the capital of Direule City, out unto the northwest and found myself traversing the Coaldark Lavalands. I trekked past the small volcanos and fought enclaves of ogres and goblins who had adapted to the fire and heat of the Valley of Krane.

It was only after stumbling upon the great entrance to Gongor’s cave that I began to feel a sense of anxiety. I strolled in, shield and dagger drawn, both cowering and striding in a cocky proudness. Dispatching the valley’s lesser beings was easy, but had not prepared me for the horrors which waited at the cave’s center.

For when I broke through the last door of the underground crypt, which connected from the cave to the great Volcano of Uuul behind it, double doors much larger than me pulled back to reveal the behemoth. Gongor’s back was turned to a pool of magma that sat beyond a platform of land, which connected to the entrance and exit of the massive room, going off into a cliff the further towards the center of the volcano.

The closer I got, the more the fire cyclopes began to notice a presence behind him. I stood twenty feet away, standing in the center of the massive core of the volcano. Gongor turned and came to a standing position, his axe at his side. The creature swung without saying a word and I rushed to avoid the absurdly large hunk of metal.

I ran under his feet and began slicing away at what I could hit. Gongor stomped, but could not crush me. I had walked many miles and was determined not to fail here. I backed away from the cyclopes and waited for him to swing his axe once more. Once he did I dodged his swipe and caught my dagger in his passing knuckle.

Once on his hand, I jumped for his shoulder. This action was met with Gongor swinging his axe up and planting it into his left shoulder. By the time I was on his forehead, the cyclopes reached up, putting his head back. As he did I plunged forward, driving my dagger into his enormous eye. In a moment Gongor began to flail his arms like mad, finally crying out in pain.

I was thrown from his face and as I fell his arm swung out, smacking me in midair and knocking me many yards across the cave’s chamber. As I skidded to a halt, Gongor calmed down, pulled my dagger out of his eye and tossed it into the pool of lava that sat off the side of the platform behind him. I couldn’t move.

My bones were broken, my muscles were twisted and the blind giant could smell my fear. Closing his eye, Gongor stepped forward. I was unable to move as the cyclopes brought me over to the pool of magma, pulled his arm back and threw my paralyzed body directly into the burning abyss. All went hot, and then black.

When I came to I was on a table, back at the Ministry of Magic, in Direule. I had undergone a spiritual adventure, in the form of an avatar, as a way to prove to the Council of Odanaar that I was worthy for a place in their army. Along with my inexperience, the council was not pleased that I had a background in mercenary work.

I was never much good at it. I had wanted to join Direule’s fractions since I was young. Growing up the son of a pack of nomads, never really knowing who your parents were, didn’t bother me all that much. Leading a nomadic life, I had always enjoyed traveling the world, just as growing up in that environment fed this dream of mine, I began to desire a station as I grew older.

However, when I came to the great city, on the shores of Morlor, I knew this was the place I wanted to call home. I took up mercenary work, but was almost always saved by my teammates. I wasn’t strong enough to wield superior weapons, so I was given daggers and shields as my primary instruments of defense.

When I had begun enrolling in the programs, which allowed you to join on as a defender and guardian of the City of Direule, I wanted to be a warrior. However, while studying under that class I found I also enjoyed spells and magic. After getting caught practicing the mystical arts I was transferred to the magic department of the School of Fenbrooke, in the Ministry of Magic.

While studying under the sorcerers there they would often find me skipping classes and attending tournaments outside. I could not set aside my love for swordplay, nor did I desire to limit my abilities to strictly magic. Eventually I was brought before the board and told that I must pursue being either a warrior or a mage under the kingdom’s rules. I tried to convey my love for both arts but the board, as well as the council, would not hear it.

In the end I settled for being a warrior and graduated with less-than-stellar marks. Since then it has been my continued desire to join the cities guardians and defense force. The truth of the matter is I’m simply not good enough. For the time being I had lived in an abandoned cottage, past the small passage that sat in the mountain range to the north of the city.

It was there that I practiced my swordsmanship and lived each day with the hope that I would eventually be good enough to join their ranks. Only time would tell. This was the sixth time I had undergone an adventure as a spiritual avatar and died before the mission was complete. Something, the council said, would never happen to a truly skilled warrior or mage.

So it was back to the drawing board, back to practicing and back to traversing the real horrors of the north. The Ingaram Pass beyond the city held behind it a vast forest. These woods with multiple trails and farms, both occupied and abandoned, seemed to go on endlessly through the warm and sunny region of Velspar.

Here there were smalls groups of rogues, thieves, farmers and countrymen. To the east of the forest lied the Malevolent Darkwoods. This was a portion of the woods that were cursed, rotted away and infested with the walking dead, giant spiders, grey wolves, ghosts and practitioners of the black arts. The Darkwood was to be avoided at all costs.

It was after my ejection from the magic council’s presence that I flew into the forests, looking for a ravenous beast with which I could vent my frustrations upon. I ran through, looking for wild creatures that sought traveler’s blood. The bears, wolves and tigers of the forest I knew I could combat. Besides, the slaying of one would lead to a quick dinner, and night was approaching fast.

It wasn’t until I spent a good hour chasing a grey wolf that my pursuit of the animal mistakenly guided me deep into the Darkwood. As I fell through a patch of webs, I knew the area I had come upon. Looking around I had begun to hear the clicking of arachnid fangs. Drawing my dagger, I peered through the webbing to see six spiders making their way upon me, surrounding me.

As I prepared for the coming strike I could hear the cutting of webs, starting from afar and working their way closer. The first giant spider jumped out from the murky distance, fangs drawn. I raised my dagger and caught the creature at the end of it. The spider fell limp as two more rushed for me. From above me there came two arrows that crossed and impaled the spiders at my feet.

I looked up to see a shadow race over my head, starting from behind me and landing a few feet away. As my vision began to make sense of that which rested within the webbing there came the onslaught of the last three giant spiders. I dodged the blows of one and pierced its pod with my blade. The figure through the webs revealed its arms, both of which shot out arrows that impaled the last of the arachnids.

Pushing past the webs I made my way over to the figure. In a moment the figure made its way for me, running past me, grabbing my arm and yanking me out of the webbed portion of the forest, as well as out of the Darkwood. I sat, dagger at my side, and opened my eyes to the sight of a woman dressed in leather and leafs, with two crossbow mechanisms on each of her arms.

She told me her name was Tarah, and that I was quite stupid for hunting for trouble in the Malevolent Darkwood. I explained to her about my predicament with the magic council and she understood. I invited Tarah back to my cottage and along the way she explained to me the series of events which landed her in that accursed forest.

Tarah was a trader, on the northern banks of Tren’un. She left in search of a family gem which was stolen from her by a band of thieves. Asking around, Tarah eventually ascertained that the thieves, who went by the handle of The Black Boggarts, headed south to Direule and were overseeing there. I told her that I had lived at the outer gates of the city for as long as I could remember and that, for her aid in my saving, I would be happy to offer her a tour of the city and help in the capture of these thieves.

Tarah accepted and stayed the night in my cottage, telling me stories about her pilgrimage down from the north. I told her that I had been desiring to travel again, seeing as how my chances of joining Direule’s guardians slipped away with each entry exam I failed. Tarah said that she would be happy to travel with me and we shook on the prospect of this joint quest. 

After a night of rest we awoke and entered the gates of the city. We traveled the shops, the docks and the inner alleys. Even stopping by the palace walls. It wasn’t until stumbling into the eastern Bolguard District that Tarah noticed the thieves from afar. This side of town was shady, but always had guards on standby.

Tarah approached the four men, dressed in blackened road-leathers, and demanded they return the jewel they stole from her. The shopkeeper, who was in the middle of a haggle with the thieves, shot back in shock. The thieves turned and drew their weapons. The district went into a frenzy as everyone ran for cover. By the time the street was cleared Tarah had rushed two of the thieves, pinning them to the cobblestone ground with her arrows.

The other two were up to me. Shoving my elbow into the face of the first guy, I caught the second one short with a dagger to the shoulder. The small incision had him fall back in pain as he surrendered the jewel back over to Tarah. I looked to Tarah, remarking that these guys were clumsy and not too strong in combat.

I guess whatever they lacked in strength they made up for in swiftness and speed. Hence their titles as thieves. As the ruckus died down the guards approached and the onlookers explained what had transpired. The guards took away the Black Boggarts as Tarah and I settled into a local pub for an early lunch.

As we sat I brought up our previous arrangement. This being that I would travel with Tarah, back to the northern shores of Tren’un, after the obtaining of her family jewel. She nobly agreed and told me that we should stock up before heading out the following day. I was so happy. I packed everything I had and was sure to be hasty about it.

All of my spells were together, my coin, my cloths and my food were well stocked. That following morning I had awoken to find Tarah gone, missing from the cottage and without a trace. I collected my things, drew my dagger and ran outside. There I could find nothing. Traveling onto the dirt road I noticed footprints headed off in a strange direction.

These footprints, which headed off up a mountain, numbered in five individuals. I immediately thought back to the thieves and followed the path, expecting to find the worst. My only thought was of coming upon the thieves standing over the dead body of Tarah, and it was with this image in my head that I gripped by blade and ran, screaming her name.

I rushed into a pass near the side of the mountain that stood near Direule’s northern gate. After fighting my way past the underbrush I came across a gruesome scene. Tarah stood over the bodies of the four Black Boggart thieves. She stood with her hand on her lower left ribcage. From that area I could see she was bleeding out.

Upon seeing me she dropped down to one knee. Standing with determination, Tarah threw her bloodied arm over my shoulder as I aided her back to my cabin. The need for any doctor was unnecessary, as training under the council for so many years had armed me with the knowledge of healing magic.

After getting Tarah back to my cottage, and beginning the proper spells, I returned to the mountainside to loot the thieves. When I returned Tarah was almost back at full strength and clutching her family’s jewel with all her might. As I settled in she told me of how she had gone out for some fresh air before I had woken up.

It was then that the thieves, who had bribed a guardsman, were let out of their cells and tracked Tarah down, planning to kill her and take back the jewel. Obviously the Black Boggarts had no grip on their actual prowess in battle and were all murdered by Tarah who, unfortunately, took a knife to the chest during the struggle.

It only took an hour for my healing spell to finish up. This almost made me wonder if I was better off as a mage than a warrior. Almost. When she was up and walking again Tarah confided in me about a harrowing revelation. One that connected the Black Boggarts to a string of corruption all across the continent of Estra.

Tarah explained that, through her travels, she had come to follow many false leads and eventually came to the realization that multiple small bands of thieves used the Black Boggart title, but might have all been connected to a bigger syndicate. Taking this into consideration I realized how it explained the band’s escape from Direule’s impenetrable dungeons, as there might have been members of the syndicate working within the city.

It was then that Tarah took her small blade out, sliced her palm open and held it out to me. She said that if I was to travel with her I would have to help her end this corruption. I took the knife and cut my palm as well. If there was this unseen evil plaguing our land, I couldn’t stand by and watch it go unpunished. Taking her hand, we vowed to make it our mission, until the day we died, to stop the Syndicate of the Black Boggarts for all time.