[Se] Ensnared
The group of children watched the spider with fascination, expressions ranging from horror to delight. The creature came up to the smallest one's knees, with eight glittering eyes and shaggy, spiky hair the color of jungle leaves. It gazed back at them, unafraid, and let out a shrill chirp. The tallest child, a girl of perhaps ten or eleven, lifted the bent branch she carried.
"What an ugly creature."
Behind her tree, Se heard, and drew in a sharp breath.
--
"Oh, sure, they're ugly enough, don't get me wrong." The Forsaken man wheezed a laugh, creaking like a rusted hinge. "There might be some as like 'em, but that's not the point. Damned useful, spiders are."
Se nodded carefully, holding very still as a hatchling crawled over her foot. The tiny creature didn't seem to notice her at all.
"We breed 'em, you know. They work for us--hunt, trap, that sort of thing. Some even haul loads. Oh, very useful, they are."
The orc standing to her left tensed, jerking back a bit, the spikes on his armor bumping into Se's shoulder. The hatchling paused a moment, then moved on, long spindly legs barely brushing the ground as it glided past the assembled orcs, trolls, and forsaken.
"Good strong venom, too," the man continued. "Can paralyze a human in seconds, if concentrated properly, or poison an elf before it can cry out." He smirked, rotting flesh showing in the gaps between moldy lips and blackened teeth. "Harvest it when they're young, and it's fairly safe. Not that it's less deadly--they're just less likely to break your arms." He laughed again, and jabbed a bony finger at Se. "Ask your healer how easy it is to reattach torn-off limbs, eh?"
There was some muttering, and a series of soft clinks as the few nearest orcs turned to look at her. She ducked her head, then thought better of it and met each of their gazes in turn with a glare.
"Now, as I was saying," the Forsaken bobbed his head jerkily toward the pile of sacks and gloves behind him, "What we need you to do today--and thank you so much, Admiral Hatcher, for letting me borrow--"
The stern-faced orc raised a brow, and the dead man quickly corrected himself.
"Right, right, Admiral Hatchet. Sorry, my mind was on the eggs, you see--"
"Get on with it."
"Yessir!" He moved to the piles of supplies, tugging on a pair of gloves and holding up a sack for all to see. "Now, what we'll need all you fine young lads and lasses doing today is heading out into Hillsbrad--just down the road, as you see--and gathering fresh, ready-to-hatch eggs! Very exciting work. Well, not exciting, but dangerous. There are bears..."
The orc to Se's left toppled over, hitting the ground with a quiet thud.
"...oh, and do try not to get bitten. There's a delayed effect sometimes, but it's still such a bother to clean up the corpses once the organs rupture, and it's not like we have an antidote."
--
The last egg was soft and warm in Se's hands. She'd stripped off her gloves--she didn't mind the feel of the things, and it was easier to pry them from the corpses if she could dig her nails in underneath. She placed it carefully into the sack with the others. It barely fit, with just enough room to tie off the top. She passed the sack to one of the orcs, then rose to move to the next body. It seemed like she was doing everyone's share of collecting, but then, it wasn't as if she was much use when it came to charging bears head-on waving an axe.
A spot of white caught her eye as she turned, and she stepped back toward the oozing corpse, braids falling in front of her face as she bent low to see. One more egg, nestled in the wiry grey fur and raw flesh of the bear's back. It was larger than the others had been, and she could feel the small life pulsing within when she reached out to touch it. Se wasn't entirely sure how she had missed it, but an idea struck, and she knelt down and pried it away from the corpse, slipping it carefully into her shirt to rest against her skin. Then she stood, wiping her fingers on her legs where the Horde tabard would cover any stains, and stepped past the stripped-down bear corpse toward the next one, still covered in a mass of soft white eggs.
"What an ugly creature."
Behind her tree, Se heard, and drew in a sharp breath.
--
"Oh, sure, they're ugly enough, don't get me wrong." The Forsaken man wheezed a laugh, creaking like a rusted hinge. "There might be some as like 'em, but that's not the point. Damned useful, spiders are."
Se nodded carefully, holding very still as a hatchling crawled over her foot. The tiny creature didn't seem to notice her at all.
"We breed 'em, you know. They work for us--hunt, trap, that sort of thing. Some even haul loads. Oh, very useful, they are."
The orc standing to her left tensed, jerking back a bit, the spikes on his armor bumping into Se's shoulder. The hatchling paused a moment, then moved on, long spindly legs barely brushing the ground as it glided past the assembled orcs, trolls, and forsaken.
"Good strong venom, too," the man continued. "Can paralyze a human in seconds, if concentrated properly, or poison an elf before it can cry out." He smirked, rotting flesh showing in the gaps between moldy lips and blackened teeth. "Harvest it when they're young, and it's fairly safe. Not that it's less deadly--they're just less likely to break your arms." He laughed again, and jabbed a bony finger at Se. "Ask your healer how easy it is to reattach torn-off limbs, eh?"
There was some muttering, and a series of soft clinks as the few nearest orcs turned to look at her. She ducked her head, then thought better of it and met each of their gazes in turn with a glare.
"Now, as I was saying," the Forsaken bobbed his head jerkily toward the pile of sacks and gloves behind him, "What we need you to do today--and thank you so much, Admiral Hatcher, for letting me borrow--"
The stern-faced orc raised a brow, and the dead man quickly corrected himself.
"Right, right, Admiral Hatchet. Sorry, my mind was on the eggs, you see--"
"Get on with it."
"Yessir!" He moved to the piles of supplies, tugging on a pair of gloves and holding up a sack for all to see. "Now, what we'll need all you fine young lads and lasses doing today is heading out into Hillsbrad--just down the road, as you see--and gathering fresh, ready-to-hatch eggs! Very exciting work. Well, not exciting, but dangerous. There are bears..."
The orc to Se's left toppled over, hitting the ground with a quiet thud.
"...oh, and do try not to get bitten. There's a delayed effect sometimes, but it's still such a bother to clean up the corpses once the organs rupture, and it's not like we have an antidote."
--
The last egg was soft and warm in Se's hands. She'd stripped off her gloves--she didn't mind the feel of the things, and it was easier to pry them from the corpses if she could dig her nails in underneath. She placed it carefully into the sack with the others. It barely fit, with just enough room to tie off the top. She passed the sack to one of the orcs, then rose to move to the next body. It seemed like she was doing everyone's share of collecting, but then, it wasn't as if she was much use when it came to charging bears head-on waving an axe.
A spot of white caught her eye as she turned, and she stepped back toward the oozing corpse, braids falling in front of her face as she bent low to see. One more egg, nestled in the wiry grey fur and raw flesh of the bear's back. It was larger than the others had been, and she could feel the small life pulsing within when she reached out to touch it. Se wasn't entirely sure how she had missed it, but an idea struck, and she knelt down and pried it away from the corpse, slipping it carefully into her shirt to rest against her skin. Then she stood, wiping her fingers on her legs where the Horde tabard would cover any stains, and stepped past the stripped-down bear corpse toward the next one, still covered in a mass of soft white eggs.