Driders and dark elves
A day in the life of a drider.
Authors note: Thank you shrike for the great review, I hope you like chapter two.
Rating: R
Disclaimer I don't own driders or any of the underdark creatures so please don't sue me; Vera din sh'chazin is the only thing I claim.
Please review, please, or I'll be forced to send my army of drow soldiers to your house!!!!!!
The being ran across the cavern floor it's eight legs moving in perfect harmony as it chased after the goblin that was all that remained of a tribe that had been hunting the drider for weeks, it had caught the creatures in an ambush just as they entered the cavern and killed all but the one that was fleeing form the drider.
The goblin slipped on a loose stone and fell, it quickly turned over onto it's back, just in time to catch the drider's spear in it's chest the goblin gave a gasp as it's lungs flooded with the creature's on blood, it thrashed around for a few moments as it drowned and then stilled the life leaving it's eyes forever.
" Goblins they never learn." the drider said as it tore the spear from the creature's corpse and wiped it clean on it's filthy clothing getting most of the gore off it in the process.
The drider then used it's two front legs to lift the goblin's body up to where he could examine the dead creatures gear to see if any of it would be worth saving from the harness of rotting leather and rusted metal.
He gave a disgusted sound when he saw the condition of the gear and through the body back down to the cavern floor and stalked off to where it had killed the other nine goblins at before chasing down the one that had run from the ambush.
"The least the little monsters could do, if their going to hunt me is bring something taking when I kill them." he said in disgust after he finished searching the other bodies, only finding more rusted and useless weapons that were so ill taken care of that it was surprise that they stayed together long enough to be swung at the drider in the first place.
"GOBLINS, you can't even eat goblins!" the being said to itself as it climbed up the cavern wall to ledge where he could watch the cavern for scavengers, (* Maybe something edible will be drawn by the smell of fresh blood*) he thought to himself as ran up the wall his feet sticking to the stone as he climbed.
It would be hard to tell that the creature scaling the cavern wall had once been a dark elf from looking at it as placed each of it's eight legs carefully so as not to make a sound, the ease of years of practice making his movements seem natural, yet anyone who viewed him would have been horrified at what they saw, his skin was a light purple color almost the same as that of a bloated corpse while the lower part of his body was that of a giant spider with deadly looking legs, just looking at the drider called up images of evil and corrupt beings that only lived to torment others.
He reached the ledge and settled himself on a spur of rock as he'd done many times before and waited, he'd forgotten what it had been like to only have two legs over the last twenty years as time slid by, every day brought a new threat to his life, the gnomes that lived to the west of his lair were the most constant danger to him as the could summon earth elementals that could find him no matter where he hid, and then there were the deep dwarves who mined a vain of merthle not far form his home that seemed to think he was a scout for a drow raiding party, they sent out patrols to kill him at least twice a month and he'd learned to avoid both races because unlike other races of the underdark they only sought to protect themselves from what they perceived as a threat to their people.
But goblins and orcs were a different story all together he would kill any that happened through his territory when he could, as the evil creatures were almost always intent on hurting others.
He had came across the remains of a goblin raid ten years before and swore that he would kill all that were responsible, the victims had been a family of dwarves out gathering mushrooms, the goblins had slaughtered them like animals, tearing apart their bodies as they still lived from the expressions of agony on the children's mangled faces, he'd sworn to avenge them and even though it took him farther from his lair that he had gone in seven years and three weeks to track them back to their lair he never thought of giving up, when he found them he had waited until all of the creatures were in the cave and then attacked without mercy killing every last being in the cavern male, female and child alike until non of the tribe were left.
Orc he had a more personal grudge against, not long after he had been changed and still learning to control his new body a band of orcs had attacked him, leaving him almost dead before he managed to escape, leaving all his weapons and food behind.
The left side of his upper body had almost been crippled from a spear thrust as he fled them, the wound leaving a trail of black incor that any hungry predator could fallow, he'd nearly died several times in the ten months it had taken him to regain use of his left arm.
The drider had been forced to steal food and weapons form the deep dwarves (thus starting the short beings hunt for him.) during those months, an act that he found dishonorable after seeing a dwarven mine for the first time and realizing how hard they worked to make all their possions they owned, unlike the drow who would rather
Steal what they wanted, than invest the effort in making a sword or axe themselves.
After he had regained the full use of his arm the drider had tried pay them back by bring them wild Roth, but they would just run him off and then send out a patrol to kill him, after six months of that he'd decided that he would just watch over any mining parties that the dwarves sent into the wild areas of the underdark when he could.
The drider heard a slight noise from the wall opposite him, shifting to the right to get a better view, what he saw the only thing he hated worse than goblins, a giant spider was slowly climbing down the wall towards the corpses intent on scavenging from the battle field below.
The drider that had once been the drow Vera din sh'chazin of the twenty eighth house of menzoberranzan, rose from it's perch rage apparent in his every movement as he readied the short throwing spear that he kept in a sling across his back, the spear was a trophy from goblin hunting that the beast he'd taken it off from had stolen from on of it's victims at some point.
He cast the spear just as the spider came within range, the spear struck the monster in the back quarter of it's bodily knocking it from the wall, it struck the floor with a wet thud and twitched once or twice in it's death throws.
To say the drider hated spiders would be an understatement the rage that any symbol of the drow clergy evoked within him felt like a raging fire that would consume the drider from the inside out.
He ran down the wall and retrieved his spear leaving the body of the giant spider where it had fallen, returning to his perch on the cavern wall to await another victim.