Brent Stinebaker
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3 [ELSEWEAVER]
🕑 Added 2024-05-14 17:31:41 +0000 UTC[ELSEWEAVERS] are entities born from the SINS of Wrath and Deception. They are most often hatched from the spirits of officers, politicians, nobles, and other figures whose acts of duplicity result in a substantial loss of life. Upon emergence, they usually make nests in places of cultural and civilization—with population density coming second to the amount of duplicity present in the potential prey.
Their sizes usually range from three to four meters long, and their general morphology resembles that of a twelve legged arachnid. If observed, one would also see that their bodies are composed of the same vibrating paramatter as their webs, and they don’t so much as “spin” their weaves as they infuse places with emanations from their spiritual structures.
Though the [ELSEWEAVER] only classifies as a Servant tier demon (or [CLASS] if one is facing an individual from a demon-related SYSTEM), one must take care and engage them with caution. As an enemy, it is best to understand them as skirmishers that ambush and stalk their prey thanks to their high Body and Spirit aspects.
Among their three Body based aspects, their Celerity ranks the highest, with Might following thereafter, and lacking Fortitude in the last place.
In terms of Spirit, they have high Sympathy and Willpower, but a lacking quantity of Anima.
The ultimate weakness of the [ELSEWEAVER] lies in its Mind. Though its Perception is considerable, its Intellect and Insight are ultimately lacking, making them extremely vulnerable to hostile psionics or memetic entities such as [DREAMEATERS]...
-The Trespasser’s Compendium
3
[ELSEWEAVER]
All existence became little more than tides of warring reverberations. The nature of matter dissolved in Wei’s mind as he found himself pulled deep into the webs, wrestling against a nightmare in its own domain.
Bereft of a core, he was blind of Spirit, unable to sift through the subtle nuances of Sympathy, unable to resist in any meaningful fashion. But though he lacked awareness, experience continued to be his guide. The demon was wounded—mortally so—and with the Body existing as the cornerstone to both Spirit and Mind, it would unravel into as the Anima bled clean from its body.
Knowing this, he braced himself for what was to follow. The demon was larger than him, faster than him, but the advantage was his if he could stay in the pocket—survive until it bled out.
The moment came without declaration. One moment, Wei felt himself a shapeless being lost beneath a quivering sea. Next came light, sound, temperature—
And motion.
The [ELSEWEAVER] slammed down on him—its body sagging as the legs behind gave. Born a cultivator, his body shaped for combat through biology refinement and constant training, but even so, it took all he had not to buckle under a near ton of demonic weight.
Twin pedipalps bit into his palms, sinking clean through flesh and halted only by the hardness of his bones. Still, the demon pushed forward, and Wei felt the edged limbs grind deeper furrows still—a jarring agony newly sampled.
More shapes flitted along the corner of his perception. He heard scampering coming from behind—a dozen little feet rising and falling upon the webs. Agnesia cried out in alarm. An arrow was twanged free from her bow. Wei was in on condition to aid her; the [ELSEWEAVER] was drawing its second set of forelimbs back, preparing to cleave him along the middle. Martial instinct took hold, Wei betrayed no pain as he sprawled backward, felt the demon’s limbs saw even deeper through his hands.
He was barely it’s equal in strength even with it at death’s door, but it was deficient of technique. Whipping his body back and across, he redirected its momentum, sent it stumbling as a shift in weight broke its balance. Already wounded, the [ELSEWEAVER]’s rear limbs failed to bear its mass. It tumbled, legs lashing and curling—but not before it struck out at him one final time.
Wei shifted his stance back—heard someone charging him. He dashed aside—fast enough to avoid a thrusting blade, but not the [ELSEWEAVER] cutting across from the other side. A line of white-hot pain ignited in his abdomen. He knew this hurt. The wound was shallow. He ignored it and fought on, kicking off a wall to rolled between the [ELSEWEAVER]’s writhing limbs and turn to face his new foe.
Beyond the demonic spider, he saw another chimera from earlier, legs rearing back as two baleful embers burned in its hollow eyes. Behind it, Agnesia pressed her foot on a burning hound of some kind, its three heads snapping at her, searing the leather of her boot black. In the darkness beyond, more flames were approaching, painting the outline of blazing hellhounds and chimeric riders.
Several options called to Wei. The sensible thing would be to kill the [ELSEWEAVER] and flee. Accept the girl for lost. There was nobility and staying here and fighting alongside her—but death came quick for the fools that courted it. Yet, as he took in his foes, he also gleaned the dimensions of his new surroundings. No longer were they in the central cavern of the nest. This was a narrow tunnel they were fighting in. A narrow tunnel that could fit the [ELSEWEAVER] if it was positioned the right way.
Suddenly, inspiration struck Wei, and a path of survival called to him.
As the [ELSEWEAVER] struggled to rise, Wei strode forth, seeking an opening between its swinging limbs. Timing was of the essence. Too soon and he would die upon the demon’s legs. Too late, and he would forsake Agnesia. As he bid his time, he angled as body, dodged a length of bone flung out at him by the rider.
It helped that the projectile was already knocked off course by the struggling [ELSEWEAVER]
Then, as the spider collapsed once more, unable to find its balance, Wei struck. Only a shame his hands weren’t able to make fists. Fine. Elbows, knees, and kicks will do.
He plunged into the blow—a second strike dealt to the opening he made earlier with the javelin. His right arm flowed out—exploded with snapping energy at the last second. His elbow splashed deep into a chasm of widening gore, and his sheer force sent it rolling over once more, flopping legs slicing into the ceiling and catching the chimera on the skull and shoulders. The rider toppled while the [ELSEWEAVER] tried to slow its acceleration by digging into the walls. Its moon-bright body was shivering once more, vibrating in resonance with the webs below.
Wei left nothing to chance. He launched himself into it again, knee impact the exact same wound for the third time. Anima-infused ichor drenched his body, outlined his diminished Spirit, burrowed deeper into his veins. Demonic blood possessed an animation of its own, drifting in and out of reality like kaleidoscopic threads. As it slid along the smooth webs, the chimera went down under it, and shrieking as it vanished in a tangled heap.
What came next would require all of Wei’s force and focus to achieve. As the [ELSEWEAVER] twisted at an angle, leveraged by the chimera trapped beneath it, Wei shot in low and exploded upward against the spider with all his might. His shoulder hammered against the spider’s shivering carapace, and he flipped it just as it was about to bowl over Agnesia as well.
The Pathless girl didn’t even know the danger encroaching, so consumed with feeding arrows into the oncoming horde. It was only when one of its legs impacted the ceiling did she turn—just in time for Wei to pull her back from the place the demon was to fall.
The [ELSEWEAVER] crashed hard against the ground. Its posture was limp, legs curling, forming something of a halfway cage in the path of the other encroaching demons. But Wei learned from his earlier follow, and left nothing to chance.
Before it even finished sliding, he sailed after it, leg descending a crescent kick. The arachnid’s eyes were perfect pools of reflective sliver. Just before Wei’s final blow arrived, he caught a glimpse of his own reflection—-was nearly thrown off by his features. His dark hair was shorn nearly to the scalp, his once shoulder-length hair missing; a tall, muscular figure with dark eyes and a strong jaw glared back at him, his adolescent features slowly resembling that of his enemy—his father.
In that final moment, Wei’s focus broke, and rage followed through. His leg splattered clean through the [ELSEWEAVER]’s bursting skull to the accompaniment of a snarl.
The ichor well free from its being once more, and faintly, in the back of his mind, Wei could hear a chorus of rising laughter.
Well, wasn’t that entertaining.
Stumbling back, he saw the heads of flaming hounds hammer into the [ELSEWEAVER]’s unmoving body, plumes of fire licking out at him alongside streams of snapping javelins. He dodged too more as he paced backward, prepared himself to resolve the matter of the other rider—
Only to find it unmoving as well. Agnesia stood over it, was pulling another arrow from her quiver. A shaft jutted from the chimeric demon’s left eye, and ichor drifted free from its being as well, crawling up along the girl’s left arm before vanishing into her ears and pores. She kept herself low, avoided shots by not being there in the first place.
A faint snort of amusement escaped Wei — Pathless, but not helpless. She rose in his estimations thereafter. As he sprinted, gestured for her to run, and they continued down the only other way they could go. Behind, Wei heard snarls and impacts sound, ducked and twisted away from whistling shots. Batted shots away from sinking into Agnesia’s back.
Three final spears sank into the webbed walls as they turned a winding corner, escaped the battle with their lives. As they ran, he found himself surprised by the girl’s laughing. “By the bloody Pits, what was that? How did you—” As she chanced a look at him, her face paled. “Gods, Wei, you’re bleeding—”
He nudged her forward. “I’ll live. We have to keep going.”
The killing was done. Now came time for an escape. But how to find a way out. The answer was suggested as a breath of hot air washed over them from someplace ahead. The heat stood in stark contrast to the cold, damp temperature of the nest. If not a way out, then at least it was somewhere different.
Such was all they had right now.
“You feel that?” Agnesia said. “It’s hot. I think it’s a way out.” Her breaths were coming fast despite the slowness of her strides. With each moment, she reminded him of how different a cultivator was from the common. She was likely passed into this world from her mother’s womb without refinement, without an initial attunement of her aspects. Compared to her, he might as well have been birthed from a furnace, purpose ingrained the moment his lungs were graced with breath.
The pathway ahead took on an upward curve. Slowly, it began to feel as if they were running up a hill—but the greater concern was the rush of vibrating webs pursuing them.
Wei sneered at the stalking [ELSEWEAVERS] as he hooked an arm under the girl—picked her up as he ran. She gave a brief yelp of surprise before calming—her body tense with bow still clenched tight in hand. The ground rolled beneath Wei’s feet as he exerted himself. Just over a rising bend, he saw the first hints of natural light.
“They’re getting close!” Agnesia cried. He tuned her out. All there was in the world now was him and the sprint, his strides accelerating to a growing rhythm, his breathing controlled for whatever came next. Light crept into his periphery. He leaped forth—boosted himself off the side of a wall just as something cut through his robe.
Landing without a jolt, he sped up the incline as a narrow opening greeted him. The world beyond resembled a blinding valley, and beyond its threshold he could hear a cheering crowd. No other way but forward; the path was set. Wei rushed out from the gap with Agensia in tow, and as his vision began to adjust, he found himself moving away from a surface made from webs onto ash instead.
Behind him, the [ELSEEWEAVERS] lingered, remaining within their domain as Wei continued his escape. Two archways loomed over him, and with each he passed, strange sigils ignited along its structure, and a faint pressure washed over him. Parallel to their path, he found other survivors running out as well.
But not all of them made it. Though some passed through the first arch, splattered apart like bags of bursting gore went they crossed the second. Wei blinked twice, but continued on. Ahead, he found himself striding on a vast expanse held within a rising bowl, and up along countless levels sat an uncountable host of spectators, taking in his struggle for survival.
“Miyar’s…” Agnesia’s words trailed off. “Where are we?”
Before Wei could answer or even truly absorb the change in scenery, a crushing presence hammered down upon his mind, Mepheleon returning with uproarious applause.
Glory to the survivors!
Well, most of you. Some of you tried to get away without killing a demon. Entertaining as some of your escapes are, the SYSTEM does not grant partial credit. A pity. Better luck next life.
As for the rest of you…
Glory!
And your just rewards!
A trail of words combusted into existence before Wei, the SYSTEM extending its offer, upholding its end of the bargain.
OBJECTIVE ACCOMPLISHED: SLAY AT LEAST ONE DEMON AND ESCAPE THE NEST
REWARDS: A [CLASS] EARNED FROM THE DEMON YOU LAST SLAYED
DEMON SLAYED: [ELSEWEAVER]
DO YOU WISH TO ACCEPT THE [ELSEWEAVER] AS YOUR [SERVANT]-TIER CLASS? (YES/SAY YES/PLEASE/IF YOU SAY NO, I’ll JUST KILL YOU - MEPHELEON)
Wei clenched his jaw as he took in the offering. So, here it was. The restoration of his Spirit. Or some paltry approximation of it. The first step to his quest now embarked. Still, something felt wrong about binding the shadow of a demon into his being, but his choices were limited.
At least for now.
A cough escaped Agnesia, rose to disbelieving laughter. “We—we did it. We’re going to be [CLASSED].” She blinked and bit her lip. “Thank you. Thank you!”
Wei nodded, “I—”
Her sudden hug left him frozen thereafter. His body went rigid at the sudden affection displayed. The ways of the other world were strange, and stranger still were their Pathless. But he couldn’t deny a faint smile from creeping onto his face. She was alive by his efforts. She was alive. He saved someone, and for but a moment, the memories of his sect’s demise waned in intensity.
But through the shadow of blood, ash, and pain, Wei could still see his father’s face, staring emotionlessly at him over his mother’s body.
What choice did he have? What path but forward? Forward.
Yes, Wei thought. And suddenly, something began to move within his coursing veins.
