Author's Note: … I haven't the slightest idea where all this nonsense came from… I blame it on my boyfriend, the highly addictive game known as D&D, and too much caffeine.

Disclaimer: I do own my character, the half-drow part dragon hexblade, but all the stats and rules I used to make her I borrowed from the TSR's core rulebooks for Dungeons & Dragons.

The Perils of an Unassuming Wheat Field

Co-written by Nny'sFallenAngel and The ShyGuy



The scene: A lonely wheat-field, early morning. A band of adventurers walked along a well-worn path, conversing about the wondrous escapades they might be partaking of in the near future. Suddenly, all was interrupted by a shrill war cry, as the part-dragon drow hexblade brandished her masterwork scythe threateningly at the unoffending field, and dove in threshing wildly.

"HAHA HAAAAA!" she proclaimed, wildly cutting down stalks of wheat left and right. "I will harvest you, unholy wheat field!! FOR MY MORNING'S BREAKFAST!!!"

"Is there any other kind of breakfast?" muttered the roguish slave to her draconic sorcerer master. Too flabbergasted by the sudden outburst of insanity on the part of his traveling companion, he failed to respond. The drow female was currently unconcerned with her friends. Motioning triumphantly at a singular stalk of wheat that had somehow managed to avoid her swinging scythe, she announced, "CURSE YOOOUU!!!" Due to her inherent ability to hex things at will, the stalk slowly drooped and withered. Hands on her hips, feet planted far apart, and tail wagging emphatically, she laughed hysterically for many minutes.

Nearby, a small, unassuming jumping spider crept out of his nest and glared at the offending female. With all the rage a spider could muster, he leapt upon her with a fury, tackling her down from behind. She fell like a rock, and commenced to fight for her very life against the miniscule threat. Its fangs bared and all eight of its eyes fixated upon her, it sought to avenge his home and friends, the wheat. In a jumble of arms and legs… lots of legs… the two combatants rolled around amongst the fallen wheat, each attempting to gain an advantage over the other, and neither succeeding; they were evenly matched. Finally, in an amazing show of strength and tenacity, the drow female managed to use the spider's strength to her advantage, and flung it far, far away from her. Thinking quickly, the spider lassoed itself to the branch of a tree as it flew by, and, using its own momentum, swung full circle and continued its flight back toward its adversary. Confident in her victory, the half-drow had turned her back on her enemy; however, she learned a valuable lesson that day: spiders, like boomerangs, always come back. The brave little spider collided with the back of her head, once again sending her tumbling to the ground. Locked again in mortal combat, the spider commenced to beat her soundly across the face with its numerous legs and tiny pedipalps. Wresting the tiny creature away from her face by its proverbial wrists, she struggled to her feet and returned the beating the spider had just given her. Both brawlers now sported identical pairs of black eyes, or so we assume, and the drow had begun to bleed from the nose. Flinging the little spider to the floor, she brought her heel down upon it, meaning to crush its tiny little body like the insect… or, arachnid, actually, that it was. Once again underestimating the strength of her opponent, the half-drow was ill-prepared to face the many tactics of her miniscule enemy. The tiny spider managed to arrest the downward thrust of her foot, and instead of being crushed, swept her much larger legs out from underneath her. She hit the ground hard, stunning her momentarily and causing her to see stars. When she came back around, she was distraught to discover that she was rendered immobile, and the spider, bruised and battered, was standing over her with what could only be described as a triumphant grin on its miniature visage.

Her compatriots stood in awe as they watched this epic battle unfold. As the battle reached it climax and came to a screeching halt, some of them were shaken out of the stupor of bewilderment enough to realize their companion had been completely cocooned by the tiny victor, and was being hauled, one inch at a time across the path. Straining for purchase against the packed earth, the determined little spider pulled its prey resolutely toward its lair. Shaking his head, the draconic sorcerer glared at the captor of his fellow adventurer dangerously. The infinitesimal arachnid looked up defiantly daring the sorcerer to try anything. Its minute ego was suddenly burst by several bullets of energy careening unerringly towards it. Upon impact, the small octoped was blown from its position and became a smoking, inert lump. Walking up to her immobile companion, the rogue slave unsheathed her daggers and made short work of her ally's silky prison. Curled up in a small ball inside the cocoon, the half-drow looked sheepishly up at all her traveling cohorts and grinned, revealing several cuts and bruises along the lines of her face and neck.

"Well, I guess I showed him a thing or two…" the half-drow commented, while rolling out of the ruined silk 'straight-jacket'.

The rest of the company looked at her, then at each other, and began to laugh at her heartily. Still laughing, they continued on their merry way, leaving the half-drow, perplexed, bruised, and bleeding from several minor lacerations, where she stood in the road. This was something not to be soon forgotten; no, the bards would tell tales of it for months after the word got around. It was forever known as Lolth's Battle and used to chastise drow who were questioning their allegiance to their chaotic god.



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