A safe Haven? (open)

[Dovinya]

"It would be my pleasure" Dovinya spoke, before rising from his seat, and walking over to stand beside Vass. It was an honor that he couldn't refuse, something as binding for him as it was liberating because it allowed him to do something in service of his family, and more importantly web. Still, it had been long time since he had spoken to outsiders, and never had he greeted them at the Woven Gate. After so many years, he hardly knew what to expect when seeing the outside world once more, especially with whispers of a all encompassing tragedy that had recently blighted the surface. There was still a more pressing concern than what the surface would look like though, for after all was what was to become of his companion. Etiquette dictated that he properly dismissed himself from the conversation, but the situation was far from usual with him not desiring to speak out of turn and his social graces still yet lacked a certain touch despite his mother's teachings, so lacking a better alternative he kept quiet, waiting patiently to follow wherever Vass lead. With the invitation, Dovinya let some of the tension fade out of his shoulders, his lips curving into what could be seen as a hint of a smile. He wasn't one to abandon companionable discourse with someone who didn't have prior knowledge of his past, and for that he was thankful to Vass for allowing the man to come along. Time seemed to be of the essence though he noticed, and remaining quiet while Vass addressed the crowd, he turned to Erasmus considering something, but dismissed it for later. If his fellow symenestra didn't know common it would soon be realized, and there was not time to ask even though he wished to know. Perhaps while they were heading down he could satisfy his curiosity.

[Erasmus]

What a splendid, opportunistic, and interesting day this was becoming. Who knew venturing out into the public eye could feel so invigorating? ‘Invigorating…’ it might be too strong a word… but already, Erasmus was quite fascinated by the sociology of today’s finds. In addition, the prospects of an eager Kalinor made him excited for his race; things were looking up in the city so far beneath the ground. Today’s occasion was a fresh reverie and a rarity with a very positive diagnosis of sheer delight. The verdict was simple, the gathering of eager symenestra waiting to catch a glimpse of the new arrivals, in a word, fantastic, and the atmosphere? Buzzing with stimulation. Citizens where dreaming up the many benefits that such a prosperous storm had sealed for the new and budding year. The gods must have favored the symenestra race above all else, for such a ‘catastrophe’ brought only joy to the race of the infamous, willowy, widow populace. New ideas tended to people, people who, in some cases, had no outside hope of growing a family. The most disadvantaged of webs would be unforgettably aided by such an interworking, compassionate, and strong form of government. What city could even claim to be as impressive as one such as this? How many could say that their hierarchy genuinely cared for the well-being of even the most diminutive specimens of the dominant race’s blood? These human visitors would be given the irreplaceable gift of knowing such a city, such a spectacular civilization, could exist within such a corrupted world of lies, violence, and selfishness. Kalinor acted as one. The symenestra worked together. In comparison, humans were scattered everywhere; like filthy scraps of trash they were tossed into nearly every crevice of the world. They were disgusting… were they not? Those who label symenestra as ‘monsters.’ Ha! They dare judge perfection when murdering their own kind, stealing from underneath their own neighbors’ noses, stabbing their own brothers in the back with wickedness! Humans were only useful for one thing, really. Erasmus forced that into his head. It was true. It was fact. It was devotion to something of which he was born to believe. It was a twisted form of logic that, when compared with other forms of logic, didn’t seem so ‘twisted’ at all, in truth. The symenestra did what they had to in order to thrive. If anything, the young man could be proud of that. Newfound acquaintance Dovinya was obviously a somebody of impeccably high significance, what with being given such a great honor by this influential figure of authority. Erasmus was pleasantly shocked by Vass’ promise of a surrogate to the male’s web. Momentarily forgetting he ‘hadn’t been listening,’ Erasmus looked up with an encouraging smile of approval and genuine congratulation. Just being in the presence of the first to be ‘rewarded’ was enough to make Erasmus sure he’d had good rationale behind extricating himself from his usual shadow-dwellings to bask in the dense air of population. What flattered him most was his very own invitation to tag along with the best of them, though, and he could hardly mumble, “thank you” without sounding like a complete idiot. (In his mind he sounded idiotic. Just the fact that there was a slight smile upon his own face made him conclude that in another’s eyes he’d be deemed dumb. He hadn’t smiled without force in a long while, it felt foreign and out of place. Reality showed that the quiet bystander was pleased, but without a loss of composure.) Standing, he followed the two towards the woven gate. Erasmus actually liked this place… it was such a simple location with such a simple function. From there he had entered Kalinor nearly a year ago, emerging from the dysfunctional external world with scarcely an ounce of identity. The Woven Gate reminded him of his race’s acceptance for their own. He needed that extra reminder from time to time… Remembering to be as welcoming as possible, the young one embraced the innocents of his youthful appearance and didn’t let the small but sufficient smile weaken into the regular expression of unadulterated concentration. Erasmus really was a pleasant fellow when he tried to be… and he wouldn’t want to make any misstep in the watchful eyes of his superiors. A newcomer would deem him friendly and hospitable. Erasmus excelled at masking inner distaste.

[Luvadros Orthilia]

An unmistakably disgusted noise erupted from the back of Luvadros' throat at the assurance that the innkeepers family would likely reap benefits in flesh for simply fulfilling their occupation by housing travelers. Granted, the vagabonds they were planning to let into the city mightn't have been able to pay, but this hardly justified perpetuating the growing similarities between the Symenestra and some vile insect that laid its eggs within a host. It was only strict adherence to the conventions of public decorum that kept him from spitting on the ground or blatantly interrupting, instead merely seething quietly. Soon enough the exchange at the table was finished and the now trio was moving for the exit. Following, Luvadros shot a few sour looks at some others who seemed to be doing so as well, sincerely doubting their intentions much resembled his. The Ochya cut in again, however, halting everyone, the young doctor included. His words erased the judgmental glare, replacing it with a stony neutrality that in no way represented the feelings roiling within. Damn it all, I should have headed straight for the Woven Gate! he thought bitterly, keeping a tight rein on the feelings to keep from shouting out at the lawman, something he knew would hardly help his situation. He did mutter beneath his breath in response to the assertion that they were not savages, “No, we're becoming something worse. At least the Myrians are self-sufficient.” There was no table for him to return to, so while the rest of the crowd that had meant to follow dispersed, he stood in his place, staring balefully at the three departing men. Perhaps Viratas favored him with a rare smile then, the leader turning back and making an addendum that once more opened the door for him. Eyes lighting for a moment, he stepped forward. “I am,” he declared, leaving out that he had yet to receive any response to his petition for employment at the Place of Purging; an unemployed healer was still a healer. The next statement slipped free before he could bite it back, and he immediately moved to open the door himself to get them on their way before Vervein could change his mind. “And if they are not injured now, I'm sure they will be shortly when they react less than cordially to their females being stolen.”

[Poison]

„That we are“, Vass agreed with Luvadros and sighed. „But there is little we can do if we want our race to live on. Would you rather your wife and female relatives died? If we didn’t promise the people of Kalinor women, they would abduct them, they would hurt them, and things would be much worse. I regret it as much as you, but that’s just the way things are.“ That was all he said before he pushed the door open and stepped outside into the cool cavern that housed the city of Kalinor.

As Luvadros revealed that he was a healer, the Ochy nodded. He stopped briefly to adress the man’s next statement as well. „What do you think we should do then? Lock them up in the Meadows Public House, post members of the Ochya in front of the door and get all the Esterians in this city to protect them as well? The majority of people in this city will see the refugees as nothing more than an opportunity for free surrogates. I’d like to hear your suggestions on how you would handle this situation.“

Before too long they had moved down the red strand road that connected all the important places in Kalinor and neared the Woven Gate. As Vass had predicted, the situation was somewhat chaotic. By now the news that humans had come to Kalinor had reached the city’s citizens, and they were gradually moving towards the gate to get a glimpse of their guests – or do something worse. A couple of guards had reached the gate as well and were standing in front of the refugees to protect them.

There were about a dozen adults and a few children. An middle aged woman had her arms around two teenagd girls that looked at the pale, jewel eyed cave dwellers fearfully. An aging man sat on the ground. He had a large bandage on his head, and there was dried blood on his clothes. A slightly younger man stood in front of a woman – likely his wife – as if to protect her. The refugees were scared, dirty and desperate.

Only a little boy looked at the Symenestra fascinatedly. He waved and stepped forward – carefully trying to maintain his balance on the rope that led away from the gate – smiled at the strangers cheerfully and said something to them in Common. His mother looked shocked and abruptly pulled him back.

„Let us pass!“ Vass commanded the Symenestra that were in their way. At first they seemed reluctant to do so, but after they realized that he was a member of the Ochya, they moved aside so that Vass, Erasmus, Dovinya and Luvadros could reach the refugees.

[Dovinya]

Dovinya thankfully missed the brief conversation between Vass and Luvadros, his eyes and ears attuned more to the crowd inhabiting the other half of the Meadows Public House. These were strange times, and such times tended to bring out the worst in people. He prayed silently to viratas that his people would stay strong and true to him by ignoring the temptation of taking advantage of the situation presented that day. The surface races might be base animals, but he didn't want their blood staining the hands of his kin any more than was needed. It went against everything he believed in. Silently he turned to follow Vass down the red strand rope, his hands and feet picking his way easily along the silken strand while he kept his eyes ahead, apprehensive about seeing the outsiders for the first time. He hadn't met many of the surface races in his life, the last one had tried for his life after all, and he wasn't exactly sure what to expect. Would these even more beastly looking then the rare few traders that payed the city visits? Could anything be expected of them more than senseless violence? At last they reached the refugees, and following Vass as close as was respectful, he peered over the symenestra's shoulder to get a good look at the outsiders. They where a grim bunch, but hardly like he expected them to be. Perhaps it was the fear in their eyes, or the way they trembled, but suddenly the tales didn't seem to carry as much fear anymore. By all appearances they looked as helpless as babes swathed in silk, eager for the guidance they alone had the power to give them. Guilt rose up in the form of a strong bile in the back of his throat, only to be suffered down or risk exposing his displeasure at the situation to the general symenestran population. It was too bad necessity dictated that at the very least a few of these females had to be harvested. Such was the lament of his kind. Still he would do his duty as it was asked of him, and without voicing his unjust concerns, and he would do so without regret. There was nothing to be done about it.

[Erasmus]

And so many refugees there were! Such diminutive, unsightly, and inquisitive beings… Erasmus’ blood-tinted eyes made certain their attention was equally proportioned to every one of the humans; he didn’t want to seem more interested in the females of the herd, some of the bystanders were already gawking enough to displease them all. In a pleasant way his smile broadened even more so, as if he were welcoming a few relatives he hadn't seen in a while. The spider did, however, mirror their timid nature quite finely. He couldn’t be sure what might upset their fragile temperaments, or Vass’ caution for that matter, so he dared not make too bold a move. The spider knew only too well that he would probably be watched carefully by the guards at first… nobody could really predict the actions of a stranger, and Erasmus was nearly as much a foreigner to his group of three widows as the refugees were to his race as a whole. He nodded respectively to the elder of the humans, a small man with a pitiable head wound. As the undersized party of porcelain-skinned creatures moved forward, Erasmus decided that this approach would be best… respecting the elders of a small assemblage such as this would humanize the symenestra to their guests. Bleh! Humanize. The word stung just as soon as Erasmus thought it up. Since when did respectable customs only belong to humans, anyway? No… he would act like the gentleman he was! Erasmus’ encounters with humans on his journey back home, which were the only ones he remembered, had been a mix of pleasant and unpleasant memoirs. Never mind those, though. Erasmus was a proper man, an honorable man, one that could be likable if he chose to do so. The good thing was that Erasmus truly had no interest in surrogates as of late. He was wholeheartedly independent… a child would mar his daily ritual of self-loathing pity. Wallowing in his own misfortune simply meant too much to him. Down with moving on! Who was the sappy idiot that made That a ‘right thing to do?’ A little figure toddled into the corner of Erasmus’ eye, making his attention turn to the small twig of a being. Erasmus stopped smiling and cocked his head to the side, not quite making out what the munchkin had uttered in his tiny voice of common. The fascination of the child reflected in Erasmus, but was so crudely snatched away by the boy’s mother much too quickly. Erasmus looked up, his eyes meeting the lady’s directly for the very first time. Sheepishly, the symenestra grinned and gestured to the little thing she was now clutching. In common, his voice was still thickly accented, but it was smooth, happy, and thoughtful just the same. Beautiful even. “He must be quite a handful, reminds me of myself when I was that little.” Youth emitted out of every action the eighteen-year-old made, as if he was just a boy himself. A curious, frightened, juvenile teenager willing to help make these peoples’ stay much more pleasant just by way of a mutual understanding. He softened completely, relaxing as if he too belonged in this flock. Erasmus could have fooled himself, had he not painfully been reminded that no recollection of a childhood whatsoever was owned by him. He moved on to the old man, not wanting to frighten the woman more than she already was by way of too much excessive attention. Still very overcautious, Erasmus carefully stooped down to the elder’s level and gave the chap a friendly nod, not daring to physically touch any one of them. “Have you gotten any medical attention yet, my good man?” The words were so bland. Though each syllable softly fell from his lips like a feather gently wisps down from the nest of a falcon, he couldn’t help feeling uneducated in using such basic words. It was even worse trying to write in common, when an angel’s voice wasn’t there to cover up the many flaws. He knew his vocabulary for the common tongue could significantly improve. Perhaps his new neighbors could give him lessons sometime. Looking over his shoulder, Erasmus suddenly prayed that he hadn’t been too ambitious in all of his actions. Vass had not really given permission for any of them to speak to the refugees, let alone break from the group to individually greet them. Erasmus would take chastisement gratefully if he deserved it. Giving his new superior a hopeful look, the younger wordlessly asked for his blessing and further permission to carry on the act of consideration. Perhaps it wasn’t an act at all… but Erasmus was far too occupied with the newcomers to think of such confusing things. He would get back in line if need be, or return home if that’s what they wanted. For one thing, this spider wasn’t a violent being. He could comply.