RP:Enter the Rogue
This is part of the The Obsidian Pool - The First Wave story arc.
In The Dark Fortress
Larewen was a new magic user to the cabal; it was through her the rift in that dark pool had been torn open, severed to provide clearance to Castellian and Leoxander. Tenebrae and Danielle were facing the unknown, and the curse of Eldritch seemed ready to take a second pair. At the last moment, the Mage's life had been threatened, along with the elven soldier Aerindir. From the morbid shadows of the fortress emerged totems of stone, offspring of evil; a vulture, a rat, and a bear. Leo had never had time to do more than fire one stray shot at nothing before a strong hand at his back shoved him roughly into what should have been stagnant, cold waters.
There was no memory of falling, or the brutal land that left him floored in utter darkness, then. He knew his weight to be pulled to the floor, like gravity, yet he could barely distinguish a solid surface beneath him. Opening his human eyes was pointless, he could see nothing. But in the distance he heard his name. Imar?
Leo..!
He only heard his own shallow breathing, purposefully made quiet to betray no weakness to anything lurking in that fathomless void. As though reading the rogue's fears, something skittered ahead in the midnight wasteland he was banished to... alone? "...Castellian?" He risked a faint whisper into the darkness. To his horror, something other than the drow responded.
A pair of red orbs smoldered into view, two ruby coins harnessing living flame. Set a row below, the vision doubled, and his eyes counted four-...no, eight small specks of fiery hue, alive and aware of an invasion. Just as his eyes began to adjust to the utter blackness of his surroundings, an aquamarine light flooded the thief's sense of sight, making him squint against the source. The creature on the floor not far from his face was of an obvious arachnid make, it's eight limbs suspending the bulge of black body a good foot off the ground. Thin and needle sharp, foremost appendages reached threatening toward the human's terrified features just as the tiny hairs on it's body began to glow at the tips, as though electric. He couldn't breathe to speak or scream for help as he faced his nightmares, born of paranoia, courtesy of the chaotic sway of that other worldly plane. He had only just moved his hand to react when the plagued widow leapt for his throat.
Neon blue light exploded before his eyes, and those grasping legs sprouted miniscule thorns he felt holding into his skin. The fiber optic threads stung a defensive sensation of fire into his skin when he reached to try to grasp the creation of chaos. In seconds it was over.
Transparent pincers dove into the nape of Leo's neck, a florescent green venom glowing momentarily beneath tattooed skin before it absorbed into the back of his throat, beneath his skull. The prismatic hues in his stare blurred, swirled, and fizzled. Lamely, his hands trembled and clenched before they fell still, clutching into the bite that leaked a radiating slime. His lean frame relaxed stomach and face first against the barren ground beneath him. The spider dissolved to nothing - a terrible memory, and it's absence took with it the mysterious glow that had bathed that horrible scene, leaving Leoxander in the same solitary state he'd arrived.