The pure heat eminating from the obsidian relic in front of her caused Bryn to hesitate. There wasn't much she could do though. Her legs wouldn't obey her, her feet glued to the floor. Stupid spell casters, she thought. Her companions voices brought her out of her head though. "Pick it up!" And with an anguished yell, she did exactly that.
It burned. Oh, how it burned. The symbol of Erathus on her right had was throbbing in pain, and between that and the dagger it was almost unbearable. Finally the sensation went away, leaving the young halfling gasping for breath. "Next time the cleric gets burned. Why is it always me?" She growled, although it bordered whining. Thankfully her companions used their time wisely, because the drow bitch was killed soon after. Finding whatever spell had been cast was undone, she moved to rejoin her friends. But peace wasn't coming, not yet. The pool (or what was left of it) started glowing beneath her, and she only just managed to escape as long spindly legs emerged. Spider's legs. The blood rushed out of her face, and her stomach did nauseating loops inside her. Her mind supplied images of her vision, and something inside her pulsed with a frightening energy. Bryn took an instinctive step back as she appeared. The temptress and deceiver herself. Lloth. In aspect form, to be sure, but still there. With little more than a second glance at any of them, the group found themselves trapped. Spiders everywhere, crawling into and out of ever opening, every pore. But not Bryn. No, the halfling say in silence for a bit, awestruck and more than a little terrified at the goddess demanding the very relic she now held. At first she refused. The sentiment she wanted to use was "over my dead body" but Bryn was certain that it would be arranged if she said the words. That's when an idea struck.
"You want the dagger? This ol' thing?" She smirked, a facade that the goddess of lies was sure to pierce through. Not that it mattered. "You won't hurt my friends." The slightest of nods was all it took. Bryn knew the look on Lloth's face. Sure, she hadn't eve dealt with a goddess before, but she knew the type from her days in the cities. The want, the need. The hunger for riches, or in this case, for power. That much was universal. So when the simplest of pricks drew blood from the goddess-turned-mortal, Bryn knew she had done right. Her friends wouldn't be harmed, because technically Lloth had received the dagger.
Too bad Bryn hadn't really thought of including herself in that statement.
No comments:
Post a Comment