Completed Alone in the Chapel

[Jane]

WHAP.

WHAP.

WHAP.

The tiny flames of candles on their stands around the Altar of Astra flickered with the motion of each strike, each lashing Jane brought upon her own bare back. Her cuirass she had removed, her plackart, her pauldrons, her rerebraces and vambraces, her couters and her gauntlets, and they rested on the floor of the chapel beside her heater shield and her sheathed sword. Her arming dress she had unlaced from the back and pulled her arms out of the sleeves and let the top half of it fold forward and rest in her lap. She sat on her heels in a stately manner; a manner which was all but foreign to her save in these moments, these throes of faith in Celestialism and Astra overcoming her normally sinful tendencies. Bare from the waist up and facing the Idol of Astra housed in the center of the Altar, her back was to the door of the chapel.

A back covered in the red raking lines of her cat o' nine tails whips. Little dribbles of blood hanging from each.

"Forgive me," Jane said.

WHAP. Another harsh flogging delivered over her shoulder and the crisp snap of it against her flesh.

"Forgive me."

WHAP.

It was enough to bring tears to her eyes, yet this was mere reflex--they were no signs of joy nor sorrow. Had someone else been whipping her, delivering blows of full force against her back, her knees would have buckled. The pain stung with a harsh bitterness, and it clawed its way from the inferno of her back and tingled her arms and her legs with all the warm cordiality of an agitated hive of hornets.

"I know nothing but sin."

WHAP.

"But I wish to know your light instead, O Astra."

WHAP.

Jane dropped the whip on the floor and bent forward and placed her hands on her armored knees and supported herself with trembling arms as she panted. Gasped. Sparing herself a moment from her self-flagellation, from her penance for her latest transgression.

Night had fallen on Alliria. Jane had been passing through the city, on her way elsewhere, when she had spotted this small chapel devoted to Celestialism. She waited until the congregation had gone for the day, for the priest as well. Entered the chapel and lit some of the candles by the altar and set about correcting herself as she was now.

The doors of the chapel had no lock. But it was quiet and private enough.

Then the doors slowly swung open.

 

[Tera Lynx]

Click.

Click.

Click.

The door of the chapel opened and the sound of sharp heels on hard stone echoed in the spacious cathedral. A tall figure cloaked in a black robe and deep face concealing hood entered the main chamber, clicking across the floor.
The hood turned this way and that, examining the ornate structures and decorations.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Havilah had grown more confident with entering human settlements in disguise, so she finally decided to enter one of the larger cities and see what memories, if any, she might recover. Her swarm was far away, the patrol's around the city and the surrounding areas were far to thorough and regular for the Swarm to be anywhere near the city without being detected, so she had to come by herself.

At first she thought this building was abandoned, but she felt one mind in here, and she detected pain with the faint smell of blood. But if there was anything she learned about humans, they minded their own business, didn't interfere when someone was in trouble, didn't do anything when injustice was being committed. So to complete her disguise she followed suit. She did nothing about the human in pain, she found a seat and made herself comfortable while she gazed around, trying to determine the purpose of this structure.

 

[Jane]

Gradually, through the righteous cloud of pain permeating her mind, Jane became aware of a sound. A sound of a certain character. Rhythmic. Footsteps, of a kind. Not heavy bootfalls or the clanking of sabatons. And, oh, was that a bit of a draft coming from the doors?

Jane stayed seated on her heels before the Altar. Not particularly caring about her current state of dress. It was permissible, of course it was permissible--how else was she going to flagellate herself? And it wasn't like she had dropped down to her knees to do it at high noon in the middle of the busiest marketplace street here in the city. Astra would know. She'd understand. Jane wasn't backsliding into her ways with the Sisters of the Citadel. Oh no, that was absurd.

She glanced back over her shoulder then and--

Holy shit (add another flogging onto the total), that person was tall. Even sitting down as they were there on a pew, Jane could see that the cloaked figure was a tall one. Another late-night chapel goer though, huh? Maybe this was more common that Jane thought.

"Hey," Jane said, still breathing a touch raggedly. "Don't pay me any mind. I'll be out your way soon."

She couldn't just leave it at that, though.

She asked, because she damn well pleased, "Come to pray? Expiate your sin? You can borrow my whip if you want. I can--"

A guilty, almost lustful, smirk at the thought as it occurred to her. The prospect of causing pain. Delicious pain to another. Subconsciously she added more floggings to her tally.

"--help you with it, if you want. I know it's not easy. Trust me, I know."

 

[Tera Lynx]

She followed the voice and saw it came from an alcove off to the side. A human was knelt there without her coverings, red marks crisscrossed her back.
Was this building dedicated to torture... Self torture? Havilah found the concept so counter intuitive. She's tortured humans before when they've hunted her Swarm, to obtain information on how much they knew, then she would infest them and force them into the swarm.
But to torture yourself? She didn't understand it in the least. Did this human need to get information out of herself? Or punish herself for harming herself? If that was the case then continuing to harm herself would simply repeat a cycle.

She stood up and approached the alcove, the clicking of her sharp clawed heels on the stone floor again heralding her movement. She gazed at the half nubile female and the self inflicted wounds.
"What is "sins"?"
She knelt down behind the woman as she examined the wounds on her skin. They were not deep and the whip was not lethal, but it left welts and cuts on the humans sensitive flesh. Her own body was covered in chitin, the sensation of feeling was significantly deadened to all but a few parts of her, specifically her face and lower hands.

She reached out with her lower hands in spite of herself, running the sensitive pads of her short clawed fingers gently along the welts on her back.
"What is the purpose of inflicting such damage to your own body? You are a warrior, will this pain not hinder your effectivity in battle?"

 

[Jane]

The cloaked person wasn't here for flagellation, self or otherwise--which was a shame. Or at least the person didn't seem to be, since he/she didn't say so or take Jane up on her offer. In fairness, the offer was a stretch, of course, but it never did hurt to try, right?

Then the cloaked person got up and approached and the matter, for Jane, became a whole lot stranger.

What is sins?

The answer should have been immediate, ready to jump directly off of Jane's tongue. Because it was obvious, was it not? That's why she was punishing herself: for her sins. All the things the Redeemer's light had shown her, all the things which she had taken as simply facets of life while enslaved in Cerak At'Thul, while as a Sister in the cult. She'd known nothing else, no other way, and thought the whole world to be like Cerak: masters and slaves, stealing and plunder, murder and violence, licentiousness and lust, inebriation and other vices. She didn't think anything of these actions, and she had done them all. Still she did them, hence why she was here.

Yet the question of sin was one that she ostensibly understood on a deep and unspoken level, but one that she had--now realizing it--intense trouble articulating.

Killing was a sin. But not every kill was sinful. Sex wasn't a sin, unless you did too much of it, did it outside the bounds of "marriage" or because you paid a perfectly fine prostitute to service you? A lot like drinking, actually, where it wasn't a sin until you did too much of it, or did it at the wrong times.

Yes, Jane understood what the Redeemer had shown her on an intuitive level...or did she truly?

"Sin is..."

She was about to say evil--another concept only introduced to her mind by the Redeemer's touch. Before it was "simply the way things were, how the world worked" to Jane. Evil wasn't even a word to Jane before the Redeemer, and "good" only meant something along the lines of to be desired, favorable/of quality, or beneficial. That's a good slave, he works hard; or, that's a good prostitute, he fucks hard.

Jane settled on the best definition she could come up with on the spot. Said, "Sin is what offends your gods, and what should offend you too. But the Goddess Astra forgives, and I--"

The cloaked person had another odd question, but also reached out to touch Jane's sore and freshly tender back. Jane hissed in some air through her mouth, pinched her eyes shut, stopped looking over her shoulder and tilted her head back. Her fingers tensed and pressed tightly into the metal of her poleyns about her knees. Ahhhhh...shit, what the fuck was wrong with masochists? Who would want to do that (or have it done) to themselves when they could just do it to somebody else? That was way more fun.

"Yeah," Jane said, strained. "It would."

Some of that fresh spark of pain from the cloaked person's touch abated.

And Jane, less strained and lowering her head and opening her eyes again, not yet looking back over her shoulder, said, "Good thing I'm not expecting to get into a fight tomorrow."

Wouldn't have mattered too much. The Seal of Nykios ensured that her back wouldn't be so tender for long...all for the purpose of being able to flagellate herself again in short time, if need be. Sometimes healing was the best form of torture--Jane knew that, and so did Uncle Nykios apparently.

Then she finished what she was saying earlier: "The Goddess Astra forgives, and this is my way of seeking that forgiveness."

A strange thing. Jane would have never thought she needed to seek forgiveness while in Cerak and with the Sisters. She had never once thought she had done anything wrong, the very idea of "wrong" alien to her before the Redeemer had come.

Regardless, she asked, "Do you have something for which you'd like to seek forgiveness?"

 

[Tera Lynx]

Something to forgive? A sin? She thought about the words of the human female. So she was punishing herself for a sin, and a sin was an undesired action against another being, at least by that definition. And her sins are against some being she called "god", was this god being Astra the leader of the humans? She thought she had already determined from her experiments that humans have no hive mind, that they are individualistic in spite of their methods of organization. But could this "god" be what her kind would call a "queen", or a "hive mind"? An overriding will that holds authority over lesser creatures, gives them direction and purpose... By these definitions, she could call herself a "god" over the swarm weird. But there were still questions.

"If a sin is a crime against this Astra being, does a human still sin if they have no god? I have no god, do I need forgiveness? What would I need forgiveness for? What actions constitute a sin?"
She was hardly mindful of the pain her touch inflicted, but once her inspection was done she seemed to realize her inhuman hand was exposed and visible so she hid it back in her cloak quickly.
She was intrigued by this new discovery about the humans, they had a cast of beings called gods. What was their purpose? Their drive? Their will? Before it seemed like the humans and the Swarm had little in common, but these gods sounded like what she was to her swarm. She had to learn more!
"Does this god creature, Astra, guide your actions? Does it provide your existence with purpose? What kind of being is it? Do you follow its will above your own? Am I a god?"

She remained crouched down but shifted more beside the human, leaning forward eagerly to learn more. A single glowing yellow eye flashed and disappeared under her hood.

 

[Jane]

Where was the Redeemer when you needed him? Even putting aside his touch, he had a way of explaining things that was far superior to Jane's own. Beyond Jane's ability, to be honest. Since landing on the shores of Liadain after her training with the Redeemer and his retinue and the forging of her armor and weapons, she'd...just been accepted for who she was. Nobody questioned it--not like this cloaked person was doing now. Much like Jane had her "way the world worked" mentality in Cerak, so too did the Mainlanders have theirs. She donned the armor crafted specifically for her, spoke the words the Redeemer told her to speak, performed the deeds the Redeemer taught her and told her to perform, and that made her a paladin--where once she had been a slave, overseer, cultist, raider and ritual murderer.

Never before had she been made to actually explain it. Any of it.

She just took it all on faith.

"Uh..."

So many questions to run down. Things certainly were easier when she was pirating ships and plundering coastal settlements with the Sisters. The questions were simple: "Are you going to kill me?" Answer: "Yes."

The cloaked person--a woman, Jane guessed, by the sound of the voice, albeit a peculiar sounding voice--nudged in a little closer. Jane glanced sideways at her, catching mostly low-hanging hood. Heh, was she a cultist? Looked like something the Diva of the Sisters would wear. Would explain all the fucked up questions she had (add another flogging, too, by the way). Well, time to give it her best attempt.

"If you don't have a god, I suppose there is no sin for you then. I...I didn't even know about sin until Astra found me through the Redeemer. Maybe you can sin against yourself."

Jane cupped her own chin and thought. Said, "But if you don't feel the need for forgiveness, then you haven't sinned, and don't...need forgiveness? That sounds mostly correct. But that's because you have no god. If you did, whatever your god stood against, whatever offended your god, would be sin."

Damn it, the Redeemer could phrase all this far more eloquently. She sounded like a slave child again, repeating instructions on her task back to the overseer.

She dropped her hand back down to her knee. Continued, "And yes. I allow Astra to guide my actions. I try to follow Her will as best I can. And..."

How could she even consider saying no to the next question, does it provide you with purpose? She felt a colossal canyon filled to the brim with effervescent devotion and purpose when she had worshiped the Dark Ones with the Sisters. If she said no to this, the Redeemer would probably kick open the doors to the chapel and slam his palm back on her forehead again.

The answer, paradoxically, both easy and hard to say: "Yes. It does fill my life with purpose. Astra is..." (the question had taken her aback slightly) "a Goddess. Not anything like what lives on Arethil. Like the Dark Ones, but different. Greater. Divine. Not mortal. Holy."

The Redeemer's word. One she still had trouble fully internalizing.

Do you follow its will above your own?

Jane avoided that question.

Skipped, instead, to say, "Are you a god? Well. If you're asking that question, you're probably not. Unless you're testing me. Are you testing me?"

A spike of worry. About the Seal of Nykios, the eternal sword poised directly over her heart, ready to end her at a moment's notice should she stray too far from the light.

 

[Tera Lynx]

Havilah shrugged at the last response.
"I am considered a queen by my own people, but the definition you've provided of a god fits the definition I hold as their queen. My will is absolute and my purpose is theirs, no matter what it is I desire, I transcend them in purity and sovereignty."
She let it go for now. There was still so many follow-up questions she had to ask.
Sin was such a complex thing. If she has no god, then she cannot sin against it, but she could still sin against herself, which would add to the hypothesis that what she defines as a queen and what this human defines as a god are the same. Because sin is a crime one commits against this higher being, and if she IS that higher being...

But back to what she knew. Humans: They are individualistic beings unbound to any other will but their own and unconnected from one another by having closed off minds.
But this wasn't so certain anymore. It was hinted at in their organization systems, their gangs and packs and armies. They choose to bind themselves to an overriding will, perhaps in an attempt to feel the connection they otherwise lack without possessing a communal mind.
And at the top of this hierarchy is a being called a god. From previous interrogations the term "King" and "Queen" were tossed around, as well as "Lord", "Lady", "Commander", but "god" was one she had only heard rarely and disregarded as the exception, not the rule.

But still, if an individual human was capable of having no other will above their own, could not every single human be considered a "god"? This was a powerful realization to her. For there to be millions of queens, or millions of kings of varying power, each without a swarm, each alone, it sounded lonely, but they held sovereignty unto themselves unless they chose to bind themselves to the will of another... someone far more powerful with the capacity to lead... and in order for a human to choose to bind themselves in such a way must mean this god they follow has something worthy of following...
The implications were enormous!
"I think I understand you a little. You've chosen to become a drone over being a god because this being of authority holds something special worth binding yourself to... This forgiveness of sins? and you achieve this forgiveness through punishing yourself because it is what your Queen desires in return."
Though something still didn't fit.
"But... If you were free of sin before you chose to bind yourself, if you were a god to yourself before you chose to bind your will to another... Did you choose to bind yourself because the will of your queen was greater? that it had power to offer that you did not have on your own?"

She wasn't guarding her speech anymore, the excitement of discovery was building within her and she was forgetting her disguise, forgetting that she was in the heart of a city that would deem her an her kind monstrous and probably try to kill her.

 

[Jane]

Alright. Wasn't testing her then. Or just not willing to say that she's testing her. Goddamn it, there was no way to know for sure (add another flogging, too).

Then came the cavalcade of strangeness--even for a Mainlander.

Jane sat and thought and had the slightly puckered lips of one on the verge of asking a question in the wake of experiencing something confusing. She was a queen, huh. What the fuck was that; another Mainlander term for Master? And she had her own people. Hm. Well the way this stranger described it, she did seem like a goddess. Except gods and goddesses and the Dark Ones were all supposed to be immortal beings not of Arethil, so far as Jane knew. The Redeemer had said that Astra, at one time, resided on Mount Dincia, but had since departed the world. Speaking of, Jane still needed to complete her pilgrimage there.

And the cavalcade got stranger.

A drone. Mainlander slang for slave? Peculiar thought, though. Had Jane been only a drone, for the Eunuch, for the Dark Ones, and now for Astra? It felt more like she was a drone only for the Eunuch; at least while offering her heart and her faith to the Dark Ones before and Astra now, she had some agency. She still had to please them, but she could choose how and when she had to please them.

It took Jane a moment to unravel the last round of questions, but she thought she found the knot in the rope.

"No, no, no. I'm not a god. Not before, not now. I'm only human. And I--"

Spoiler: A pause.

The Redeemer's hand. Bathed in light. Reaching toward her. Overwhelming her. Pure awe--fear and wonder--descended. She could not resist.

"--chose to worship Astra. I chose to do it before any powers were bestowed upon me. And not every believer receives blessings and favor and power, so that's not a good reason to worship. You just have to feel that the faith is right."

As Jane once felt that the Sisters, that their worship of the incarnated Dark One Alarak--Him among the pantheon of Dark Ones--was right. Right, as in, "for her." Right, as in, congruent with her older definition of "good."

Jane turned her head to look more directly at the cloaked stranger.

"Where are you from, anyway? Here in Alliria? You sound like a Master of Slaves."

Which would be odd. If she was. The Eunuch and every other Master in Cerak spared no time for thoughts of "sin" or "forgiveness." It wasn't right or wrong there--it was just how things were. The way the world worked.

 

[Tera Lynx]

"Slave" that was a word she was becoming more and more familiar with. She had found many slaves, many of them joined the swarm willingly after she inadvertently freed them by raiding their village and slaying their masters.
But the word "Slave" never existed in the swarm. The only word that came close was the word "Drone", but the meaning was far different. As she understood it, a slave was someone with a free will who is forced to be bound to the will of another.
A drone has no free will and no other purpose than what it is designed for. A drone is not exploited, they serve their purpose, and their purpose is to serve.

To her the slaves she freed were more like defeated warlords that weren't killed, creatures of power and intelligence that were being forced to serve as drones. Far below their true station.
She held enemy soldiers in similar regard. Infestation and conversion to the swarm is how she frees them from their servitude to weaker minds. They serve her instead because her mind is the strongest. Those with minds greater than hers become queens or kings of their own swarms. Or gods, to use the definition.

This human claimed to not be a god but that she chose to serve one. If Havilah had to guess she would say that this human began as a drone, then advanced to the equivalent of an Elite or Advisor, those were creatures that served the queen but held agency, with the ability to lead smaller swarms and packs of their own and use their own decision making abilities.
A new hypothesis entered her mind. What if the base human was simply a larva stage, and then they evolve into whatever circumstance they find themselves in or even choose for themselves?
That would make lots of sense thinking in her terms.
Humans who evolve into drones.
Humans who adapt into elites.
Humans who evolve into gods.
It was an interesting Hypothesis.

______________________________________________________________________________​

Her thoughts were running a mile a minute, but it had little to do with the conversation now.

"Where are you from, anyway? Here in Alliria? You sound like a Master of Slaves."

Where was she from? She initially built her hive in the depths of the Forbidden City. That's where she became a queen and bound her swarm to her mind and overriding will.
"I came from the desert. A desolate city in the sand. No humans, just creatures to hunt, monsters to experiment on. I raised my swarm from under the ground and brought us out into the sun."
She was really forgetting herself. Whispers of her words were even beginning to echo in the humans head. She mostly spoke telepathically anyways, but now her voice was beginning to come from two places at once.
"I do not lead slaves. My drones serve my will as is their sole purpose. But I am growing to understand your word "Slave". It takes a powerful creature and forces them to be lesser. Taking a creature of a strong mind to be diminished and bound to the will of another when they possess the power to lead."

She stood up and walked around the alter with one clawed hand outside her robe and resting thoughtfully on her chin hidden under her hood. Her clawed heels clicking on the stone floor.
"How to put this in human words... A slave would be like forcing a god to serve as a mere soldier. But my drones are designed for their purpose, they are not creatures of greater minds or powers. They are like the swords you humans use to cut us down."
She came around the alter and placed a different clawed hand on the stone depiction of Astra. Confusingly enough from the same side of her body as the hand that rested on her chin. But this clawed hand had very little resemblance to anything human, covered in chitin with wickedly long claws. The robe seemed to quiver as her other two arms shifted within. On closer inspection one might notice old dried blood on the black robes she wore, stains from the previous owner that she acquired quite a while back. She had been using this robe as a disguise for a long time.

"Some of my greatest Pilgrims and Elites were once human slaves... Creatures of great power forced to serve as a pick or a shovel for unworthy masters. Their masters died so they wanted to serve me, but I showed them instead that they could lead."
She stepped towards the human still knelt and half naked in front of her, but her nakedness meant nothing to Havilah.
She bent down and looked into her face, her hood finally revealing the face it was meant to conceal.
"Do you lead your life, human? Or do you remain enslaved though your chains have been changed?"

 

[Jane]

The cavalcade of strangeness became something...worse.

Something felt peculiar. Off. The cloaked figure had made it abundantly clear that she wasn't human, but that in and of itself was nothing out of the ordinary; Alarak himself was a Dark Elf (possibly even a Dark One, if the Sisters were correct). But as the cloaked figure was talking, telling her story about the desert and the city in the sand and the monsters and her "swarm," an awareness crept into Jane's mind.

She was hearing the stranger's voice. Hearing it, and hearing it again. Once in her ears, once in her mind, the voice outside and the voice inside coming together and shaking hands in a disquieting ceremony inside her skull. Some kind of magic? What was this? Who was this stranger?

The stranger walked around the Altar. Mused further. Jane just watched with a mounting unease; it was like knowing the overseer was coming around, knowing he was going to whip someone, and knowing that you had better be working damn harder than your fellow slave so you're not the one getting punished--that brand of anxiety.

They are like the swords you humans use to cut us down.

Jane, half-subconsciously and half with the presence of mind to do so, began to reach for her sheathed sword on the chapel floor. Touched it at the same time the stranger touched the Idol of Astra with what appeared to be a second right hand. A hand visible in the candlelight. A hand that was foreign to all of Jane's sensibilities, but she knew claws when she saw them. Was this a kind of demon? Something else?

Blood. Delicious blood. Stained on the stranger's robe. But Jane could surely say that wasn't "good": not desirable, favorable, or beneficial for her. And it probably wasn't good by the Redeemer's standard either.

Jane pulled the sheathed sword back to her lap. Rested it lengthwise across her armored legs. Right hand on the hilt. But still she sat.

Sat even as the stranger came round again and bent down and Jane saw through the opening of the deep hood something she could not readily describe. Yet she struggled more with the stranger's motive rather than her appearance. The world could say what it will about Cerak, but life was simple there. Straightforward. If you wanted to kill someone, you killed them. If you wanted to kill someone and couldn't--like Jane and the Eunuch, initially--you waited until you had your chance. Until then, everything went by the same as any other day. Slaves worked, overseers oversaw, and Masters ruled. Even with the Sisters of the Citadel, there were rituals that needed to be done, propitiations to made, and raids to embark on--that was it.

So what was the stranger's motive? If she wanted to kill her, wouldn't she have done it already? Why all the questions? Jane never asked any of the sacrifices to the Dark One Alarak if they led their own lives, or any of the other questions asked of her tonight. She just killed them. For the Dark Ones. Because that's how things were.

(The welts and wounds on Jane's back, during this time, had begun to heal and regenerate; slowly her flesh was being repaired by the Seal of Nykios.)

Do you lead your life, human? Or do you remain enslaved though your chains have been changed?

Jane, holding the sheathed sword in her lap still, gave her answer without even thinking. Said, "I have faith. And I follow that faith wherever it leads me. I believed in Cerak At'Thul, then the Dark Ones, and now I believe in Astra. Because the Goddess Astra outshone the other two."

A gaze of simple, wholehearted truth.

"I don't know what else to tell you."

 

[Tera Lynx]

She was a little disappointed at her final declaration of faith. Havilah thought she might be able to gain another follower for the Swarm but it was apparent that this human has already devoted herself to another queen, another hive mind, another god. A shame, this human was strong and might have made a formidable Warlord. She could have led her own Swarm and brought death to the enemies of the hive.

A look of sadness and childish disappointment crossed her inhuman face and she pouted a little. She withdrew and walked back to the alter and it's idol. She looked at the clawed insectoid hand of her upper arm set and stared at it for a long moment... Reality slowly began to focus around her and she realized that she had exposed herself to this human.
She slowly turned back to look at the human. She had drawn her weapon protectively closer to herself when Havilah drew close to her. Mistrust, wariness, caution. These feelings Havilah mirrored now.
What would this human do now that she had revealed her inhumanity?
Many would call for help, others would attempt to kill her outright. This human had yet to do either and hadn't even drawn her sword yet.

But how long would that last?
Havilah's eyes darted around the alcove and the chapel chamber beyond where she had sat earlier. Her nerves were on high alert and her eyes sought points of escape. The windows were barred to prevent thieves from breaking in, she couldn't break through those in any timely fashion.
She was positioned in a strategically bad spot, cornered in an alcove with a potential enemy positioned and blocking the exit.
Her breathing and heartbeat quickened at the perceived danger she was in, however contrived and premature. Her voice now fully echoed both in her ears and her mind.
"Do you intend to kill me with your sword now? I will not succumb to death easily. Many humans tried to slay me, and I have killed many humans besides."
She flexed her claws. She knew her chitin would serve her well against any regular blade, but she could smell the weave of magic radiating from the sheathed blade on her lap.

 

[Jane]

Jane glanced down at her collected armor pieces on the floor. To her heater shield, likewise on the floor and on the side opposite the armor pieces. Then straight down at her own bosom; the size of her breasts made fighting without them being secured to at least some degree...inconvenient. Bouncing, weighty hassles. She wasn't going to try that again--not unless she had to.

And many thanks to the Redeemer for a cuirass that actually fit, and fit comfortably; wasn't doing her much good at the moment, but it was the idea of the thing. When his armorers had told him that Jane's breastplate was going to take a bit longer to craft because it needed to be specially made due to her (as they said) "assets," she had a giggling little mental image of the Redeemer's face ripening to a rosy red under that helm of his. Maybe he did. Maybe he didn't. But she liked to think that the prim, uptight, always serious Redeemer had a crack in his own metaphorical armor.

To the matter at hand. Specifically:

"I'm not really dressed for a fight," Jane said, in a tone that was almost disappointed, looking back up at the cloaked...person?

Then Jane had the narrowing of brow and the tight lips of someone who realized something. A slight canting of her head.

"Wait. Weren't you going to try and kill me? You know, before I tried to kill you? You said you had problems with humans cutting you and...your kind?...down?"

Things were far simpler in Cerak. Everybody knew who to kill and who not to fuck with. Timing and opportunity were the only issues. Huh. Didn't the cloaked figure have both? Was the cloaked figure one of her favored enemies, by the by? Undead, demon, dark magic tainted, Dark One corrupted? Well if not, then...no need to be inconvenienced if she didn't have to be, right? In fairness, that male prostitute had it coming the first time--wouldn't lick her toes. Her Sisters had been proud.

She asked, in a candid manner, "What are you, anyway? You and your kind? If you're not an enemy of mine, then I'm content to sit here. I still have some floggings due."

And Jane sat. Held her sword across her lap.

Waited.

 

[Tera Lynx]

Seems they were both confused, each thought the other was going to attempt to kill them. Perhaps Havilah had misread the situation, and this human.
She relaxed a little, especially when the human asked what she even was. The Swarm was yet to be well known, and Havilah was even attempting to repair what little reputation they had before they became known throughout Arethil.
Once the swarm became known to the world, the swarm had to be prepared to take its first steps as a civilization, they had to make allies and enter commerce. But first she needed to make sure they weren't already known as murderous monsters that consume all they see.

But the time for hiding, at least before this human, was over. She dropped the cloak around her feet and stood before the paladin. She wore no other clothing but her body was armored in chitin. She had four arms, the top set being the monstrous insectoid claws, the lower set being more humanoid with a chitin exoskeleton. She appeared to have both an exoskeleton and an endoskeleton.
She stood up on her toes which lent to her height, as if she were wearing heels, but her heels were supported by two claws which explained the clicking sound that accompanied her steps.
"I am Havilah, and called the Queen of Venom. Your kind called us the swarm weird, and I lead the swarm."

 

[Jane]

Oh.

Now that Jane saw all of Havila--sans the cloak, no obscuration--the whole made more sense that the parts she had seen in isolation, her odd hands and face. She looked like a big bug. Not just a bug though, but close. Like something Dark One Shor or Dark One Nebbatt might create. It explained the strange texture of her face and her hands, seeing it now all across her body. Speaking of convenience, that was convenient--looked like she had her armor built-in. But that probably made other things inconvenient though. Give and take.

"You're a long way from home, and so am I," Jane said, finding a sort of amiable common ground. "But I'm not a "queen," of venom or otherwise. And I only have two arms. And my armor comes off. Ah, well, we have our differences. At least we don't have to kill each other."

The Sisters would've frowned on that, but Astra--hopefully--tipped her a nod and a smile.

Jane slid her sheathed sword from her lap and set it down beside her and reached for her cat o' tails and grabbed it. Sat up straight again.

Said, "So what the hell are you doing here then? I don't know much about Alliria myself, but I can see it's fucking full"--she interrupted herself to crack a fresh strike over her shoulder to punish herself for her profanity, and after a wince she finished saying--"of humans. Not like me. People who'd have a problem with you, as you said. You going to kill 'em if they do?"

 

[Tera Lynx]

"A long way from home", she said... Home... She had no idea where that even was, but the word is familiar. She remembered becoming aware of herself in the Forbidden City, but before that was madness and chaos. She traveled far and now she had no idea where she came from. She knew she was human once, her memories, however fragmented, had told her this much. But she could not remember where she was, or why she was there.

She was thoughtful as she watched the human return to punishing herself... But only for a moment.
"Survival is the way of the Weird. No matter what I will survive, I will take, I will grow stronger. One takes from another and becomes greater than either, that is our way. It will not be this way forever, the swarm is change, the swarm is evolution. When we are recognized by the humans the swarm will stand in symbiotic relationship with them."
She tapped her claw against the statue of Astra absently.
"But until then... the Swarm must survive. I must survive. And in order to survive we must take, we must evolve, and we must expand and grow."
Glowing green threads appeared between her fingers, connecting both hands. She began weaving this thread into complex patterns until a glowing center began to form, the weave magic of the swarm. She held this tiny birthing pod in her hands as it slowly grew to the size of an apple. In the midst of the green glowing fluid a dark shape took form, and began to grow just as quickly.

The pod broke and a tiny little pink creature with large eyes sat in Havilah's hands.
"I've heard that humans sometimes possess small drones that aid them in their tasks. They call them familiars. I offer one to you, one that will aid you and grow with you as you travel. I wish to leave you in friendship with this gift of myself."

Spoiler: Familiar

{Abilities}​

Psionic Flight: This larva has a powerful mind and moves about by floating, using its psionic power to keep it in the air.

Active Adaptation: By consuming the flesh of a creature or consuming genetic material into its system its body will take only one of the most beneficial genetic codes from the material and add it to the code of the Weird. (Example: A weird consumes the meat of a Basilisk. The genetic essence is assimilated into the Weird creature and they gain the ability to turn other creatures to stone on eye contact, or resist the effects of being turned to stone themselves, but rarely both.)

{Traits}​

The Hivemind: The Larva can communicate telepathically with its master and even share each others senses for a hundred mile radius.

Wild Physiology: The Weird is an animal, one with considerable cunning, intelligence, and dangerous natural weaponry that it uses to deadly effect. Their senses are animalistic with a focus on smell.

{Weaknesses}​

Psionic Counter: Every creature in the swarm is connected, they have one mind. Through this connection it is possible for it to also be a vulnerability if another psionic uses it against them.

Helpless Animals: The larva has no intelligence when out range of its master and is in nearly constant connection to the master to receive direction and instruction. Otherwise it reverts to its basic instincts and goes insane.

Achilles Heel: Due to the nature of natural armor it is possible to find a weak point in its shell.

 

[Jane]

That was a "yes." Good on Havilah, and whatever her swarm was. Even the Redeemer might find it hard to argue against killing in self-defense, no matter what he may have thought of Havilah. And the Sisters, they'd be with Jane on this one, if not a little disappointed that Havilah wasn't directly pledging her kills to a Dark One.

Jane had no idea what "evolution" was, but judging by connotation, it seemed to mean "change like a son of a bitch" (Half a flog for that). Jane likewise had no idea what "symbiotic" meant, but judging by connotation, it seemed to mean..."survive like a son of a bitch" (There's that full-on flogging).

Then Havilah flexed some magic of hers. Certainly not divine in nature, based on their discussion--or not any sort of divine that Jane was aware of. Even during her short time on the Mainland, she'd already heard of the College of Elbion. Would've made for an easy explanation, but...Mainlander humans not too fond of Havilah nor her swarm, mind. Guess she just had some of that naturally.

And what the fuck did she just make in her hands. (So many profanity floggings tonight).

Jane's bottom lip scooted off to her left a smidge. Her eyes went from Havilah to the--honestly adorable--thing she'd made and back to Havilah again. But looks were deceiving; Jane ought to know.

"A familiar, huh." Now that sounded like a College of Elbion thing. No familiars running around in Cerak, so far as Jane knew.

"Is that thing going to bite me? Because I'd much rather it bite the people I tell it to bite."

You know. Not innocent people, oh no, of course not. Not prostitutes (another flogging, for thinking about it) or people who cheated at Dueling Dice or random merchants. The people who Jane needed to defend herself against. Those people. The people who righteously by Astra deserved it.

 

[Tera Lynx]

Havilah smiled, "It will obey your thoughts, and you will know its thoughts. Over time this drone will evolve, it will change and grow, it will become strong, it will adopt your purpose as its own and become whatever is needed to fulfill that purpose."
She turned her hand and watched as the little creature scurried around to remain on top. It blinked at both of them and gave a little squeak.
This was a very minor drone creature. But if developed correctly, can become a fearsome creature, a formidable fighter or cunning hunter. Its mind was even capable of developing to comprehend magic if given proper teaching.
"If you let it, your minds will become one, and it will serve you without hesitation. You will essentially become its queen, bound to your will alone."

The creature looked down at Jane and then gave a little hop, landing on the floor in front of her. It looked up quizzically at her, blinking its big eyes at her and tilting its head. It was hard to tell if it was a lizard or a bug, but a strange hybrid lending to the name of the Weird race.
"Feed it the flesh of the strong, and it will take the strength as its own. It thrives on hardship and challenge, it is how all creatures grow. The harder the task, the stronger it will become."

 

[Jane]

Havilah began to explain the characteristics of the familiar she had summoned between her hands.

Halfway through, Jane's receptive and listening expression twisted into a smirk, she let out two curt (maybe even ominously mischievous) laughs, and gave herself a good hard lashing across the back that caused her to snap her eyes shut momentarily and groan in a throaty way. And she gave herself another lashing for good measure.

She looked down at the little familiar before her. Her shoulders hitched slightly as she let out another little laugh, a touch guilty in character. And she whipped herself again without breaking eye contact with the familiar.

Then, to Havilah, "By Astra, I'm going to let the little bastard be. Keep its mind its own, and my mind my own. I'm nobody's queen."

Ah, she did have a lot of fun, though. When she promoted herself to Master over the Eunuch's dead body. A lot of fun, murdering all her formerly fellow slaves one by one, making them think it was somebody else. It made her feel powerful, and she had only felt truly alive when they were dying, when her knife plunged into their flesh--it was the first time in all her life that she had agency, that she acted on the world, instead of the other way around. Oooooo...she got the delightful shudders just thinking about it.

And she flogged herself a good few times for it. Quick and vicious snaps of the cat o' tails over her shoulder and smacking with sickening cracks across her back until she bit her bottom lip and groaned--louder this time--in convulsing pain.

"Hardship and challenge, huh," Jane said, panting. "Well..."

Heh.

"I can see if it lives, if it tags along."

 

[Tera Lynx]

Havilah nodded. It was a gift, and it was hers now. She picked up her robes from the floor as Jane continued to abuse herself.
She could only pretend she understood such counterproductive practices, but even if this was an act demanded of her by her god, why would her god want such suffering for her?
Havilah never subjected intelligent creatures of the swarm to such torment unless it served the greater good of the swarm, she's sacrificed millions to destroy a single city, or even to kill a dragon for its essence. Without pain and suffering, change and evolution, the swarm couldn't grow, but it was never uselessly or without purpose.

The little creature gave a happy squeal and ran to its new master, climbing up between her breasts to sit on her shoulder, it's little claws pinching but not breaking skin.

Havilah wrapped her cloak about herself again but left the hood down for now.
"I have a favor to ask of you, human. If you speak of our meeting, speak kindly. I hope to one day bring the swarm to stand as allies with humans, and that begins by spreading word among people."

 

[Jane]

"Whoa! Hey there, little guy," Jane said, somewhat surprised by the familiar's...glee and excitement? She would have goddamn sworn (add another to the tally) that the thing would've been a vicious little bastard from the way Havilah described it. A bit at odds from the way it looked, sure, but Jane had leaned in that direction too.

It gave a ticklish scurry up her body and between her bosom and circled to a stop on her shoulder, perched like an owl on a branch. Yeah, an adorable little guy, for a creature summoned by a Queen of a Swarm that Jane had no real idea about but nevertheless assumed that they all looked as inherently formidable as Havilah herself.

And Havilah had a favor to ask. Jane just shrugged, as if what she had asked was simply a matter of course.

"Yeah, you know, anybody asks I'll tell them what happened. We had a nice chat and you gave me a gift, and that was about it. They ask about the--"

Jane flogged herself again, groaned, and the familiar on her left shoulder swayed with the motion of her body.

"--details, then I'll be the one who looks fu--...bad. Mainlanders tend to have a problem with self-flagellation."

 

[Tera Lynx]

She smiled. Seems that was the best she could ask for, though there was little more than feats created in her own mind for her to worry about. When one is in the heart of the civilization of a perceived enemy, one starts creating enemies in their imagination.
Havilah reasoned that she was simply being ignorant and paranoid.
"Thank you."

She stepped around the paladin and lifted her hood in preparation to leave. As she stepped into the chapel the doors opened and several others in dark robes marched inside, some bore torches and others seemed to be concealing weapons within the folds of their robes. This affirmed to Havilah that her disguise was sufficient for moving about in human society, she wondered offhandedly if there were creatures who've evolved to have a cloak like appearance for infiltrating human society, if so she would like to steal that essence and use it for a new brood...

She was attempting to walk straight past the newcomers and leave the chapel, not thinking anything strange about their presence in the building, but the strangers had other plans. When they saw the towering figure in robes a male voice whispered, "I thought you said this place was supposed to be empty!"
Another voice whispered back, "No matter, no witnesses! This one will serve as a sacrifice."
Two approached her and attempted to draw daggers for a quick and silent kill, but their attack was slow and clumsy to her senses. The daggers stabbed into her cloak without touching her armor as she quickly jumped back.

_________________________
​

Unknown to Havilah, these people were demon cultists, performing unholy rites in an effort to taint this holy place.

_________________________
​

Havilah backpedaled again when they made a second attack, but now the others were getting involved. As another dagger penetrated her cloak her clawed hand caught the blade, snapping it like a twig before she made a high leap backwards, flipping over the human approaching from the rear. The movement threw her hood back, but she didn't mind so much at this point, they would die before they could tell anyone.

Once again she began weaving the threads of magic together. While the cultists closed around her.

 

[Jane]

And that was that.

Havilah got her questions more or less answered (probably less, Jane reckoned). Jane got the gift of a cute little familiar. And now Havilah was going on her way and Jane had her floggings to attend to; had to work down that profanity tally she'd accrued just now.

Only that wasn't that.

Jane got another two solid lashings in when she heard the plentiful footfalls behind her at the door and, likewise, the vague whispers of two distinctly new voices. Ahhhh...chapels at night seemed like a poor place to do this, despite her initial estimations on the matter. Locked doors. Locked doors were good. Otherwise people could just keep on barging on and complicating things. Astra had to be getting a little impatient by now.

Then she heard something else. Something that much more fiercely grabbed her attention. The telltale sounds of a scuffle, a scrap, a fight. Oooo...how lovely. Jane glanced over her shoulder (the familiar mimicking her movements and glancing too) and saw, ah ha, an attempted murder! Men in robes and some carrying torches, two with daggers out, going at Havilah. She wasn't kidding about having trouble around humans, huh.

Jane grinned. Reached for her sword and unsheathed it and grabbed her heater shield as well and stood and turned around. The men were in for a titillating show, certainly, and Jane couldn't care less. She enjoyed the exhibitionism, frankly; reminded her of the fun she'd have with the sacrifices to the Dark One Alarak while with the Sisters before they were...heh...sacrificed. And Astra couldn't even fault her for this one: not like she had time to pull up her arming dress and lace the back, much less to put on her armor.

She held her sword an shield out wide, in a grand gesture of genial reception, and said to the men as if she and they were all old friends, "Gentlemen!" (A Mainlander word if she ever heard one). "Welcome to the chapel!"

Then she assumed a combat stance. Shield up and forward. Said, "Time to repent!"

And as Havilah readied her magic, Jane charged. Looking to bash one robed man with her shield and stab another through with her sword.

 

[Tera Lynx]

While two of her hands worked on the magical threads her second set were working her organic threads. As another cultist charged at her she seemed to float into the air out of reach of his blade, her threads pulling her aloft into the rafters by the ceiling which was designed to harmonically amplify the sound and singing of the congregation below. Up there she began to complete her spell, but not before a black bile vomited up from her stomach and covered the rafters she rested on.
The black bile provided the perfect place to plant her next spawn, but it also began to multiply and spread over the other beams. It dripped down to the floor and even there the processing bile began to multiply and spread.

As soon as several pods formed in her woven glowing mass she immediately planted the pods in the bile where they formed birthing pods.
Initially she thought this to be overkill for the situation, until many more men in robes came charging in, some with actual weapons of soldiers, not the simple blades of thieves. She was relieved that the paladin came to her aid, but things were about to become very difficult for her.
She created a few more pods and planted them before she began weaving her webs again, she would drop down nets to occupy groups of them temporarily or pull a fighter up from the ankles and leave him hanging by the ceiling.
But it was getting hairy, so she descended from the balcony to aid in person once more.

She didn't use her webs and instead landed with a loud slam as her feet cracked the stone. She threw off her cloak into the faces of her attackers and prepared for an all out combat with all four arms.

 

[Jane]

Jane started out on the offensive, but quickly ended up on the defensive. Got that nice bash on the one robed man and an oh-so-wonderful thrust through the other, and she gave a shuddering sigh of pleasure at seeing the latter crumple and hold his gut and hearing him yowl in pain. They did her a favor, truly, coming in here and trying to murder Havilah in cold blood like that. Gave Jane the open invitation to dispense some "righteous" punishment down upon them; and Nykios couldn't even fault her for taking too much enjoyment in it.

Good start. But she was outnumbered and unarmored above the waist--hence going on the defensive. A few of the robed men ogled her bare bosom, preventing her from being completely swarmed, but others weren't so distracted. Ah, it would've been too easy otherwise.

Jane was backpedaling, deflecting this blow off of her shield and parrying this strike away with her sword, when she noticed Havilah ascending up toward the high ceiling (the familiar, still perched on Jane's shoulder, watching as well). Huh. Was she drunk? Why the vomit? Jane was all for unorthodox tactics and surprise tricks in a fight, but Havilah missed, if indeed she was aiming to puke on someone's head.

Jane couldn't keep eyes up there for long. More men were filing into the chapel, some with formidable armaments. Eh, the guards of Alliria must have been bribed tonight. Happened all the time in Cerak; the guards there were lovingly referred to as "Alarak's tithe collectors" quite often.

Backed up to her collection of armor on the ground before the Altar of Astra, Jane fought back then. Her shield flared white as Holy energy erupted around the rim and she bashed one of the three men assailing her, sparking bolts of divine power into him and causing his body to seize up and topple helplessly backward. She caught a dagger slash across her right bicep, but it was worth it--punched that bastard straight in the mouth with the glowing rim of her shield and knocked him on his ass. Third man came at her. Stuck his knife into her fucking back. But she stabbed her sword over her shoulder without looking back and it plunged into his skull through his nose so he got the worse end of that deal.

Jane grit her teeth and growled and tossed her sword into her shield hand for a moment while she ripped the knife out of her back and then tossed her sword back and caught it. Turned around to face the chapel doors again and that fresh wave of robed men.

Havilah had been doing damn well--netting and trapping those men with gods-know-what. And now she was back on the ground

"Astra..." Jane half-panted, half-laughed. "Tell me there's an end to these ruffians."