13. Drider

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1256 DR, Underdark near Eryndlyn

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The cursed creature moved chaoticly, running along the tunnels as if going far enough could give him peace. His thoughts were confused, fragments of recent memories mixed with bestial instincts.
Soon the curse would have completely distorted his mind too, giving him that acute and devious intelligence that was typical of driders, that intelligence that however only served to ambush, capture prey, kill, feed ... and be aware of his miserable life.
For a drow, a dark elf who lived on stratified deceptions and fragile alliances, such a bestial and linear life seemed intolerable ... as if the physical disfigurement weren't enough, finding himself with the lower part of the body transformed into that of a giant spider.
"You embarrassed me for the last time," the priestess had said, and the drider knew he should have remembered who that dark elf was, but he didn't. She had punished him… for something… but now details seemed so irrelevant.
The monstrous creature, half-spider, half-drow, burrowed into a narrow, defensible cave. Feeling the rock walls around him made him feel a little safer, and he crouched down trying to gather his thoughts. He wished he had a weapon with him right now, but he had lost his dagger when the transformation had made his body bigger, destroying his clothes. Not that a small dagger was all that useful for such a large creature ...

As his mind adjusted to the new structure of his brain, the drider remembered that his main weapon was once another: magic. Was he still able to use arcane forces? Besides, did it make sense to do it? Why fight to survive if his wretched existence was not worthy of being called life?
A recent memory flashed through his mind: the priestess laughed as she watched him writhe, shocked by his changing body.
Yes, maybe it made sense to try to figure out how to use his magical powers again. It might not have been worth living, but he would have been happy to be able to get his hands - or paws - on any drow that came in his way, and tear through those fragile little bodies he now envied so much.

...

"Today I saw a strange monster" the boy announced, in a curious tone that sounded way too careless.
"Hm? What kind of monster, Duv? " asked his mother, who was busy gathering spores from a phosphorescent moss growing on the cave wall.
"It was... kind of a centaur, but the underside was that of a spider," the young elf continued, trying to get into details. "The top ... I didn't see well because he was far away, but its hair was white like drow's."
The woman, who was drow, stopped her work and looked curiously at her son. Duvainion was enthusiastic about that excursion into the Underdark, in his twenty-five years of life he had known only the Surface, its forests and human territories made of cultivated fields and wide pastures. He had no experience of the natural underground environment, but he seemed to find it very fascinating. Certainly part of that fascination was due to curiosity about half of his legacy, his mother's people.
"I can't imagine what a creature it can be," the drow shrugged, as if in apology. "I've never heard of centaurs from the Underdark."
"A drider" intervened the warrior, the drow who claimed to be her brother. His expression was as dark as his skin, Krystel had rarely seen him so frown. "Duvainion, it is very important that you tell me where you saw it. Driders are lethal killers. "
The young half-drow opened his eyes wide, realizing the danger he had been in.
"I was in that cave with the stalagmites and stalactites that touch each other, forming some kind of gigantic stone hourglasses. The one with the stream. I wanted to go get some water but there was that creature, I didn't dare to go near it. "
"You did well!" His uncle pointed a finger at him as if accusing him of something. "You will never leave this this cave until I have better investigated the movements of the creature."
"But ... you do not seem too confine me in here? I'm not a child! "
The drow frowned, showing a stern expression. His sister's son should not have countered his orders, according to his world view Duvainion was a male who was inferior in rank. Yet Krystel was not scolding him for his rebellious attitude.
By instinct, the warrior addressed his sister directly rather than respond to his nephew.
"You and your son need to understand the danger a drider poses. That thing was once like us, it was a drow, but someone turned it into a monster, perhaps to punish it for something. Now it's impossible to reason with that creature, it would try to kill us on sight because driders are known to envy and hate dark elves. "
Daren could not have known but that was not the wisest argument to pursue with Krystel. He realized it soon after.
"Has It been transformed? So it's not a natural creature?"
"I would say not. To my knowledge, driders cannot reproduce."
"But then ..." Daren watched his sister's horrified expression curiously. He wasn't used to seeing so much shock on a female's face. "We have to help them!"

Silence fell in the small sheltered cave. Daren didn't really know what to say. It came naturally to him to interpret his sister's words as an order, but it was an order he did not understand how to carry out.
"Sister, if you order me to kill it, I promise I will do my best," he finally said.
The idea didn't make him sparkle with joy because he still had no information on the abilities of that particular drider. He would have preferred not to make promises he didn't know if he could keep, but Krystel had cornered him.
She blinked a couple of times, looking even more bewildered. "No! When would I ever have asked you to kill them?" She blurted out, because the more time passed, the less she could understand this brother who suddenly emerged from such an alien and distorted culture.
"Forgive me for misinterpreting your words." Daren struggled to resist the urge to bow, because Krystel had already asked him several times not to. "Death is a blessing for a drider, the only thing I can do for him is to free him from his miserable life."
"Forgive me for speaking badly," she retorted. "I didn't mean you have to take care of it yourself. I want to try to make it go back to what they were before. If a drider is really that dangerous, I'll need your help to keep them at bay while I perform the ritual, but I'd rather you not kill the poor thing."
Daren's eyes widened in disbelief.
"Is there a ritual for doing such a thing?"
The drow female shrugged, but showing some self-confidence. "I'm going to go through all my grimoires, but if it doesn't exist it means I'll have to invent it."
The way she said it, as if it were normal to invent new rituals, sent a shiver down her brother's spine. He did not have much faith in magical traditions that had not already been extensively experienced.