A Throne of Her Own [Open]
The surface world was an exhausting thing. It had neither the comfort provided by the cavernous pitts of the Abyss, nor had it the beloved subspecies of arachnids that flocked to her as if she had mothered each and every one of them. Mother of Spiders was an appropriate title, though she was not the mother of these wonderful creatures. She was simply made to resemble them, and the more she spent time in their company the more she came to admire their behaviors. She admired the way they caught their prey and wrapped them in silk that matched the sheen of her own hair. It made her feel almost beautiful at times, especially when memories of her origin resurfaced and brought her displeasure.
In this two legged vessel she could only experience the beauty of her ilk indirectly, as if seeing the world through a looking glass. Her being remained always trapped in the Abyss, observing evermore. This vessel was but an extension of her will, a tool to alter the planet of Toril as she saw fit. She could inspire others to stray from their paths, bring them discomfort. The order of their lives could be altered, thieves could be inspired to do more heinous deeds, and the noble could be turned to do the unthinkable.
She could do it all herself, and it was wonderful.
She directed this body to a remote cave bordering the Crags and Neverwinter Wood. The path was not the best known routes to the Underdark, as she was well aware, but it was the closest in the region to her current vicinity.Â
Unfortunately, this body tired frequently. She would have to allow it to rest and meditate, as mortals often did. She directed herself to a boulder shaped well enough for her to be seated on, removing elegant stiletto'd boots to examine the flesh of her vessel's feet. They were calloused from the walk she had directed this one to take. She leaned into the form of the boulder and looked to the sky above. The sun was just beginning to set. She was glad.
A presence made itself visible a couple yards off. The infrared vision of her ilk allowed her to recognize that the form was bipedal. Who would be crossing paths with her this evening? Who was it that dared to interrupt her brief moment of peace? She waited, hopeful, that the foreign creature would direct their path elsewhere.
They failed to do so.
