19th Bell
Late Fall 515 AV
Kalinor; Private Residences
In the southern wall of the silken teardrop house near the Meadows Public House sat a very enthralled young man. Vladislov was knelt down in his “room” studying a book that described the various types of centipedes and what sort of poisons could be rendered from them. His dark eyes peeled through line after line of how to properly kill the insect, dissect the specimen and safely retrieve the ingredient. After a series of instructional pictures, there was more written direction of various ways to deliver certain toxins that can be created with the powdered ingredient. Most of them should be delivered through some kind of ingestion when one is discussing chilopoda poisons. A small smile tugged at the lips of the young Symenestra as the endless possibilities floated through his head.
He slipped out of his curtained pouch and moved to the common area on the floor. Using the instruments that he had been allowed to borrow from his Dovna, Vladislov set the book aside but left it open to the instructional panel of images. Slender fingers retreated within the confines of his thin cloak to retrieve a small vial of wriggling specimen. The Symenestra lifted the container and observed the two creepy-crawlies. They seemed more than content to climb back and forth long and on top of each other. Their segmented bodies were alternated in yellow, orange and black stripes repeated in that order. The only way to tell the head from the bottom was a slight difference in the length of their whiskers.
The ones in the front housed a set of fangs and were just shorter than the tail. Having discovered this, Vlad found a twinge of excitement as a chill ran up his spine. He was more than eager to begin and twisted the cork while holding the glass until the seal gave way. With a pop, the vial was opened and the quick-thinking youth paid a black claw over the opening. He tilted the vial a bit and slowly moved his claw off to the side allowing one of the insects to escape. With his eyes on the free bug, his hands worked in unison to reverse the angle of the tilt which prevented the second centipede from getting loose. The other hand snapped the cork back in and the vial was set aside on the floor.
Black eyes tracked the hinged movements of the insect that was making a break for the far wall. Vlad used his nails to gently coax and turn the centipede so that he could study its movements. The small creature seemed content to cycle back and forth and weave circles on the silken floor. The novice poison enthusiast played this little game for several chimes before he took his left index and thumb claws and made a vice. He pinched slowly catching the bug a quarter of an inch behind its head. Then he used his right thumb claw to separate the head from the body with a single, smooth stroke. The piece between his left fingers remained still and squirted a bit of black goo while the rest of the body wriggled and writhed away leaking small drops of the same substance for almost a chime. Vlad used his right claw to flick the body away and lifted the head section up to his face so he could get a good look at what was in store for him. With a bit of pressure, he was able to see the tiny greenish-brown sac that was filled with venom. His eyes glanced back to his book for reference and the youth smiled.
Vlad placed the head on the floor of his home and used the meat of his left thumb to gently roll from the tip inward. This forced out all of the contents of the segment including the sac. With the tip of his right pinkie nail, Vlad severed the membrane which held the venom in place. The little bead rolled free and the Symenestra pushed the rest of the head and innards aside. He had his poison sitting right in front of him. With the same careful actions and precise method, the gangly young man repeated the entire process to extract the second sac of poison. Triumphant, Vlad looked at his hands which were beginning to shake in anticipation. He delicately scraped both of the samples back into the glass vial where both live specimens had once lived. He corked it, used his thumb to apply pressure further locking the seal and then set the vial on the floor. Vlad was truly shaking now but he had completed the first stage of his intricate plan; acquiring poison.
~~~~~
8th Bell
The Meadows Public House
Vlad moved down the Red Strand Road with the grace expected of his people. The longer arms and tiny hooks in his skin made transitioning from his home to the residence of his teacher an easy feat. In alternating motions, his legs and arms pumped at a decent rate which moved his light frame along at a fast pace. As others of his race used the silken road to travel, Vlad decided to make a game out of the random encounters with his brethren. As one couple passed wearing matching strands of silk on their arms (a sign of betrothal), the black-eyed youth allowed his limbs to coil in almost unison then explode up into the air. He used his lithe muscle structure to conduct his body over the couple who did not think so highly of Vlad’s behavior. The airborne Symenestra flexed his obliques and abdominal muscles which allowed him to compensate for the slight twist his form had taken from the soft and swaying platform. His landing was slightly awkward but Vlad elected to maintain his momentum and resumed the rapid hand over fist approach.
It didn’t take him long to navigate past several more groups of spiderkin who merely regarded Vlad with an expression of mild irritation while some exchanged glances as if to say ‘kids’. The boy with black eyes didn’t mind. He had business to attend to and that involved being as efficient as possible with his time. On top of his own agenda, he had a very controlling master who was difficult to please and easy to agitate. With a final bit of exertion, Vlad brought himself to the Public House and slowed to a normal pace. He maneuvered his body to the door with a bit of flexibility and some luck. As he made to enter, three humans came out carrying various pieces of luggage and quickly filled the space which Vlad had intended to use. Thinking quickly, Vlad pushed off of his right foot giving him a lateral rise against the side of the building. His left foot dug in and propelled him higher along the wall which allowed his cloak to slip down from his outstretched arms. This exposure allowed his Symenestra skin to grip the flat surface and hang on until the men had passed. Vlad then dropped down with ease and without a sound and moved into the hotel.
The fire and candlelight shown brighter than the rest of Kalinor and so Vlad stepped off t the side of the entrance so that his eyes could adjust. Several ticks later, Vlad moved towards the fireplace and the sofas near the hearth. There was a man, a human, seated with his back to the entrance. He had cleanly cut and parted hair, broad shoulders and a chiseled jaw. Everything else was covered by a thick cotton jacket and a book that was opened in his lap. With an approach that could be considered reverent, Vlad moved to the seat cushion nearest the figure and bowed his head before silently sinking into the sofa. In silence, the pair sat as the world went on around them. The Symenestra was frozen in a posture of uncomfortable attention paid to a man who had yet to seem like he even knew that company had been joined. As the chimes fell away, Vlad wanted to move…he wanted to jump on his teacher and claw his eyes out but he simply sat still and pretended that he was a statue.
9th Bell
“Follow me.”
Finally, the human spoke but it was brief and followed by a smooth and nearly instant transition from a man studying to man walking briskly to the stairs. Vlad was quick to follow but was far more awkward climbing the stairs. The structure was unique because Symenestra don’t need to use steps and thus their attempt at constructions was- well intended. The human didn’t seem to have any issues; after all, he had lived among the spiderkin for several years. Around the corner and down the hall, the man led his pupil to the common room and then his personal room, a wooden door marked by a carved orchid. The man used his key and walked through the arch and into the dark room.
Vlad, ever the opportunist and used to seeing in low light slipped through the room being sure to avoid his master as well as the carefully orchestrated table and chair just inside the door. The teacher had moved the desk as well as the rest of the furniture. He was terribly racist about certain aspects of Symenestra life; one of these was the lack of understanding the ‘flow’ of a room. The thief in training paused after four steps inside the room, turned to the left and made a half step before turning just a little. His dark eyes adjusted quickly so when the human light his lantern, the opening glow was just enough to give Vladislov the visibility to pop the two venom sacs into the glass which resided on the desk. The novice poisoner moved towards the light as it warmed the room; black orbs narrowed by pale eyelids. The teacher gave the student a look which read of displeasure. Vlad was uncertain as to why and took a step back before lowering his head. It was something he had been encouraged to do for years. Silent and submissive, these were the times when eggshells were not to be broken and whispers to be heard.
The large human moved past his pupil with a gruff shoulder to make way. Long strides of confidence brought his powerful hands to a glass decanter that rested upon table. The lid was pried free and several fingers were poured into the lone glass which sat on the wooden table which was intricately carved with an orchid. Once the fill up was complete, the decanter was sealed and replaced. The man shrouded in darkness lifted the glass to his lips and drained it into his mouth with two large swallows. The expression went from cold and unfeeling to angry and confused. With a sidelong glance of pale green eyes, the human brought into his peripheral the sight of his long trainee and within ticks, the glass was shattered in his iron grip. Blood dripped from where the shards had pierced and torn his flesh but the well-built man didn’t seem to mind. For several moments, he merely stood and gaze across the room at the skinny, ignorant and frail Symenestra boy. The only sound was that of the oil wick sheathed in flame within the lantern. The soft hush of the waving tongues of fire were here and gone like breaths in a windstorm.
In a flash, the man made three long strides to overtake Vladislov. The nimble spider leapt back at the first sign of movement and slipped from his cloak and sandals. The second stride was countered when the Symenestra leapt for the wall. His bare feet made a firm grip that allowed him to pivot. He used his long legs, now bent, to spring up. Palms and forearms made contact with the solid wall and the tony hooks came out solidifying his hold. Before the man could make his third stride and an attempt to swipe the young parasite with a massive blow, Vlad’s feet caught up and made contact with the wall as well. All four limbs made it easy for the Symenestra to scale the room’s barrier to its ceiling where he was free from the immediate threat of physical harm. Black eyes looked down into the fiery green squalls of his teacher. The blood was rushing into the white behind the irises which the poisoner took as a sign that his deed was paying its dividends. He was wrong.
The human swayed and dipped down on one knee and coughed but the fit was morphed into a sick laughter of wheezing and spit. The man sank down to all fours, stuck in his rattling ruckus but the laughter never ceased. Vlad dropped down to the ground several feet away from the man but his face spelled utter disappointment. When his master saw this, the man fought through the coughing, his bleeding hand clutching at his chest. More ticks rolled by and the man could say nothing but he was slowly regaining control of his body. A knock came at the door. Now, the human’s blood-stained eyes of putrid green lifted to capture the gaze of his pupil.
“Fetch a healer, fool.” The words barely escaped before more coughing took hold. He fought to gather himself and a few pounding blows against his sternum seemed to do the trick. “Your poison won’t kill me…you used…” the sentence was stalled by a double cough. “The venom but the lungs are the deadly part.” That laughing cough struck once more and the pupil felt his blood run cold. His mind flashed through the book he was reading and the image recalled was one of the diagram which explained what piece was where and the proper name.
Failure.
On the pale face, this emotion was written so boisterously that the doubled over human began to laugh even more. A second knock drew Vlad’s attention away but only for a moment. His silent rage was fuming at his defeat and now his device was known. Fear and anger made for an interesting cocktail inside the mind of a young killer. So many thoughts but they were interrupted by a third knock then the raspy voice of his ill teacher.
“Have that knock fetch the healer. Do it and I won’t kill you. I don’t want to be sick for the next three days and you don’t want to be dead, now GO!” The strength in his last verbal command snapped the trained instrument inside the Symenestra into action. He gathered his silken cloak and donned it while walking silently to the door. Vlad rubbed at the soft skin beneath his eyes furiously to puff up the tissue and then scratched the inside of his nose with a single claw. The temptation to sneeze arose but he manipulated it into tears. His body sought to flush a foreign body from its sinuses but Vlad had other plans. He opened the door and with tears running down his cheeks, his face contorted into a false mask of pain and sadness.
“Please!” His words licked like dagger along silk; the language of Symenos. “My teacher is ill! Please get help!!” Vlad took a step forward and grasped the middle-aged Symenetra woman by her dress’s collar. He felt power in the lie and opened his black eye as wide as he could which allowed more tears to flow; brought on by the dryness of the air. This couple with a quivering bottom lip sold the woman who artfully removed her garment from Vlad’s claws and slipped away at a fast trot to gather some assistance.
Minutes later, a knock came at the door. Vladislov had managed to avoid any physical harm but had been rendered a shivering mess by the abusive words of a much wiser and crueler man. The knowledge he lacked was as apparent as his failure. Had he not been over-zealous and finished reading the page in his book, he would have known what organs to use and how to properly distribute the toxin. For future reference, the lungs needed to be dried and crushed into a powder. Then ingestion or inhalation would be the best means of delivery. Last time he answered the door, the little thief had forced his fear and trembling…now it was real. The heavy wooden frame creaked as the hinges swayed the carved door aside. Vlad was struck for a moment by a pale-skinned woman with white hair and opalescent scales along her face and neck. She was short and bore no claws. Her skin was a different shade altogether and the stranger made every muscle in body tense.
“Who are you?” He spoke slowly in Common.
“Solei.” Her voice was pleasant on the ear and soothing to his nerves. “I am visiting here from my home in the North. I am a healer, by trade.” She extended a webbed hand which bore a brand of sorts, a purplish snake design. Vlad did not shake her hand but touched the mark with his claw. Seeing his face and feeling the contact, Solei continued. “That is the sign of my matron goddess, Rak’keli, the mother who heals and blesses some of us with her gift.” A gorgeous smile rendered the woman a stunning visage that shocked the isolated and culturally ignorant Symenestra. Vlad simply stepped aside and closed the door behind the woman.
Vlad was but a fly on the wall as Solei examined and tended to his master. The human flirted freely and used the frailty of his condition to enamor the beauty with his wit and boundless good will as a mentor to lost boys like Vlad. For nearly a bell, the examination and first date took place without so much as a word about cause. Then, the man told of how his pupil was to blame but instantly stopped the healer from raising a fuss. He explained that it was natural for the youth to resent their betters and in his ignorance, Vladislov had actually taught himself a lesson that his teacher never could. The Symenestra was roaming through some dark places in his mind. He was aware of everything being said but longed to be elsewhere. He would show them. His strength, his resolve and his greatness would one day be the stuff of legend. Plans began to piece themselves together and more flirting occurred between the healer and patient.
Then, like a butterfly landing upon a spider’s web, the soft echoing phrase reverberated to the resting body of the patient predator. “This tonic will make you weak for a while but I shall stay with you while you recover.” Before the man could protest, the Konti woman, as Vlad had heard them discuss, helped or rather forced the liquid concoction of herbs into the man’s mouth. He tried to sit up but the thick tonic of smoothly ground ingredients slipped down his gullet and into his digestion. With his bandaged hand, the man tried to point at his student. Vlad could see the look of fear and distrust. Now was the time to break his silence but not to strike.
He moved in a wide arc so the healer, Solei, could see him coming. When they met gazes, Vladislov knelt down and gingerly lifted the wrapped hand of his master. “Thank you. You heal…my…teach…” His black eyes went to the man with a look of longing and hope. The naïve woman saw this and nodded.
“Teacher.” She said in a matter of fact tone. “You should be more careful when dealing with poisons, child. They are everywhere.” She revealed her suvai as it rested on her waist. “Even bones can be poisonous.” Vladislov nodded and tilted his head at the weapon. It must not be poisonous to Konti. Such a thing could be very useful.
“I fetch drinks. Water.” Vlad bowed his head and moved to the door. When he opened it, he turned to see if she was looking at him or not; she wasn’t. The devious young thief climbed up the wall in a silent scamper and closed the door from the ceiling. Solei turned and saw the door closed then she leaned down and began to talk softly to the human while stroking his handsome face.
“You should come away with me when your strength returns.” The woman cooed in his ear. She was completely unaware of the Symenestra moving along the dancing shadows above her. When Vlad was directly over the pair, he hung down for a few ticks by his hands. The strain was substantial but he needed to be still for his plan to work.
Stillness.
The thief released his hold and fell to his feet directly behind the Konti, When she rose straight up, she found herself restrained by long arms. Vlad was not overly strong but he didn’t need to be. The split second of her rise met the pause after his descent with a sharp bite onto her neck. The boy had not eaten in over week and his venom rushed through his fangs. Conscious of the flow, Vladislov encouraged the poison to leave him. Solei struggled for a few moments but soon found a strange sensation attacking her body. Her mark flared as it fought against the foreign invasion and for a moment things appeared to be at a standstill. Drowsy, off and irritated, Solei drew her special weapon. Her swipe missed Vlad entirely.
He stepped wide to the left then swooped in and set the woman off balance. She swung again but this time lost her footing. She twisted and collapsed into a heap upon her patient whose face sprang to life. The suvai had pierced his abdomen almost entirely beneath the weight of the healer. Solei could see it in the human’s eyes that the poison was ripping through him in his weakened state. She laid her hands upon him in an effort to stem the tide of death that flowed from the carved weapon. There was another battle taking place which complicated everything. In her effort to help the man, the powers of her mark became less effective in her own body. Her strength waned and Vladislov could smell death upon them. He made another very calculated move and used his foot to sweep one of Solei’s legs out from beneath her. She fell on top of his master once more. The suvai tore at his flesh which made him groan but it was overshadowed by the gasp from the beautiful woman’s open mouth. She coughed a spittle of blood and looked down to see her own abdomen torn by the weapon in her hand.
Vladislov watched as in the next few chimes his master passed on from the poisons in his blood. The pupil may not have directly killed him but he had created the scenario for such a thing to occur which opened his mind to many possibilities. For several bells to follow, he watched as the healer wept, prayed and struggled against her situation. The Symenestra poison was working hard to ripple her before it began to break down her tissue. Vlad noted how the mark flared over and over again but the stomach wound seemed to add too much to the pile. Once the poisoner could see bruising begin to show beneath the flawless skin, he knew his toxin had triumphed. He went and fetched a bowl from the kitchen area within the room and set it next to Solei. He lifted her arm atop the dish and used his nail to cut open her flesh. A slow ooze of red tissue, a soup of vitae and dissolved muscle, leaked out into the clay vessel. Right as the bowl filled, the konti’s last breath touched Vlad’s ears and he smiled then he drank.
The deviant drew his fill from the woman’s corpse. He drank six bowls and then belched with a giggle. “Excuse me.” He rose and prepared to clean up the mess when the door to the room swung open. Vlad was unprepared for what happened next but his immediate reaction was fear so he headed towards the window. A voice, shy and sweet, stopped him in his tracks.
“Umm, hello. Can I come in?” The figure stood in the door then shifted her weight so a slight flare of light from the candles reflected off of hair that was nearly as red as the bloody mess behind the tall Symenestra. The girl was small in stature but the hair hid her face and Vlad couldn’t tell what she was, exactly. He was instantly taken by the young woman but held his ground despite felling strangely weak in the knees.
“I would like some privacy right now.” Vlad’s voice was no more than a whisper.
“Well, “ The voice had changed. It was powerful and bitter and belonged to a human woman. She lifted her chin to stare into the black eyes. There was not a shred of intimidation while she read him. Vlad, although larger, instantly felt small and insignificant next to this woman. “I would like to come in so move!” She shoved her way past Vlad. The lanky murderer was astounded and silenced. As if in a dream, he closed the door behind her and followed the woman like a lost puppy.
The young man watched as the woman came upon the grisly scene of carnage that he had been responsible for but was surprised to find her just looking at it. She wasn’t staring in horror or flabbergasted by the gruesome deaths. The woman just looked like she was in thought over the whole thing. It reminded Vlad of someone studying a plant which hadn’t been previously seen. “You made quite a mess, boy.” The tone was different yet again. It was sincere and even.
Vlad opened his mouth but nothing came out. He was arching his back to draw away from the penetrating stare of the figure which towered over him, encompassed him and riddled him with fear yet made him long to be near the woman. In a sudden outburst, Vlad’s seditious nature left his body in a rapid vomit of a wordy confession; rushed and disorganized. “He deserved it. All of it. Bastard should’ve suffered longer but I screwed up.” Vlad dug his claws into the palms of his hands until a few drops of blood ran up his wrists. “Then this…this…woman! Ugh! She came to heal him and ended up…well…I mean, they talked about things the way lovers do but they’ve never met!! Can you believe it? She was about to ruin everything including my ticket out of here but an idea came to me and my plan worked the second time around and now they’re both dead!” The black eyes looked deep into the gaze of the woman. Vlad suddenly realized she enjoyed his little tale of woe and murder. “My only regret is that my Symenestra venom numbed her body so that she couldn’t feel her organs dissolve.”
Vlad angrily kicked the lifeless leg of the healer with his bare foot. His toes sunk into the flesh and tore it open in a huge gash. He had drained most of the fluid but there was still enough to splatter the woman’s bare feet and legs. Panic. He was about to apologize when the young lady bent at the waist and in a single motion, swung her dainty arm down and swiped a fingertip’s worth of the red substance and plopped it between her lips Her light eyes closed and an audible ‘mmmm’ came as a purr from her mouth.
Vlad’s mouth fell open and his face became a perfect example of what curiosity looks like…if it had fangs and black eyes. The woman opened her eyes and smiled, biting on her finger seductively. Vlad had never been social with women and lacked any sort of knowledge on the subject. The sudden close proximity combined with the astounding beauty and intriguing morbidity of the red-haired vixen created a whirlwind of emotions and reactions that Vlad would never be able to fully explain.
“Tell me your name.” Her voice was just a whisper but she leaned in close so that he could feel her words while she pressed her body against him. Her tiny fingertips walked up his chest to the exposed skin on his neck.
“Vl…” It wasn’t a stutter. The tongue in his mouth seemed to stop working. Perhaps it was the overabundance of saliva in his mouth. Perhaps not. “Vladislov Hemlock.” His name was like a foreign language. It slid between his lips so slowly that the woman lifted her head back but only for a moment. The light eyes seemed different but Vlad was too dumbfounded to notice. Better in his speech, he asked her a question as his clawed fingers idly walked along her waist and interlocked against the small of her back. “What shall I call you?”
Eruption. The soft skin became cold, the light eyes filled with blood like two swirling pools of anguish and the seductive expression was replaced by one of lust but not of the flesh –but for power. Vlad tried to react but the hand on his chest struck down like a spider. Each of the fingertips felt like acid burning his skin. It hurt so bad that he believed his flesh to be boiling way from his bones yet deep down in his soul he felt a satisfaction that he could not explain nor fully comprehend. In the midst of his confusion, the woman cackled as her head reared back. She dug her hand in further bringing Vlad to his knees, his claws digging into her back.
“You shall call me your Queen! I am Krysus the goddess of pain and murder and you, Vladislov Hemlock, now serve me!” The fingers twisted and drew yet another stifled scream from the youth. “I see the desire to hurt in your soul and I will give you my power to make others feel pain worthy of the word!” The woman leaned into her grasp, fingers each now buried to the first knuckle. She leaned forward, arching against Vlad who was now quivering in both elation and agony. Her hair covered his face catching the beads of sweat as they ran away from his hairline. In a whisper, she issued the threat. “You cannot ignore me. Your body belongs to me now. Refuse to serve me and it will punish you in my stead.” Then, Krysus kissed his forehead, his eyebrow, the tip of his nose and finally, she pressed her mouth against his. Vlad began to shake as the burning shot through his entire being to his left hand; the veins now experienced that same boiling sensation all the while sitting on the verge of true euphoria. As if to emphasis her point, the goddess bit his lip with an incredible force, instantly splashing blood into his mouth. The world went black.
Vlad woke up on the floor of the room beside the semi-dried mess of the healer and the corpse of his former teacher. He was the only living soul in the room. In a scramble, he checked his chest but found no marks. His left hand wiped sweat residue from his forehead and he gasped. The veins on the back of his left hand were crimson –the color of Krysus’ hair. Vlad sucked in his bottom lip and winced as his tongue rolled over the torn skin. He suddenly had a headache so he got up to find some wine. When he did this, he became confused wondering why the crotch of his pants was stuck to his leg. Ignoring the anomalies, the Symenestra set about the task of cleaning up his mess. Now that he was free, there was much to do.