((OOC:  So sorry about the length.  I had a brainwave.<img alt=":)" src="./images/smilies/smile.gif" title="Smile"/>Also sorry if it seems like I'm nudging everyone in the catacombs to do certain things.  I figure we might as well let the shit hit the fan now.))<br/><br/>"SON-OF-A-BITCH!!" shouted Halvorson, ducking away from Baz's shotgun blast, as did the others.  He listened to Feign's remarks, then glared at Baz.  "Boy's got it right - we're in it now."  He saw Baz's flustered state of terror and looked at Sara.  "Can you calm him down?"<br/><br/>He was disconcerted by his friend's sudden display of fear.  Baz had taken on a raging, zerked-out Tasmanian Devil-fur; he had wasted Blood Cultists at point-blank range; he'd even taken grenade shrapnel... and now he was going to lose it over a spider.  Granted, it was a damned big spider.  A damned big, ugly, glowing...<span style="font-style: italic">talking</span>spider.  He reconsidered and decided to cut Baz some slack.<br/><br/>He keyed his radio.  "Foxtrot, go!  I say again, go go GO!!"  He let the radio hang.  "That's tore it.  I'm going up.  Here or somewhere else, all ways lead up.  And I'd rather take on a spider than get wasted by another booby trap.  Follow me, fast as you can."  He sheathed his sword and jumped, grabbing the edges of the grate opening and pulling himself up rapidly.<br/><br/>Immediately he saw the spider again, saw its eight long legs and the blue glow its shell was giving off.  The odd part was that two of the spider's legs were curled forward, covering the spider's face.  Was it defending itself?<br/><br/>Halvorson was halfway through when that eerie voice sounded again, this time undeniably coming from the massive arachnid. "Seth not looking... if Seth not see, Seth not kill..."  Something metallic was embedded into the spider's exoskeleton, just behind the flat, angular head.  The fangs, from behind the curled legs, were twitching ever so slightly when the spider spoke.<br/><br/>"Mother of the Five Gods..." Halvorson breathed.  What kind of menagerie did Alhanda have down here?  He heaved his legs up through the hole, moving his head to look back down into the sewer tunnel just as O'Toole came barreling up after him, nearly launching herself through the hole and up into the new area.  She had her staff in hand immediately and was raising it to strike the spider.<br/><br/>"Whoa, hold on a second," said Halvorson gently, restraining her.  "I think it's trying to help us."<br/><br/>"<span style="font-style: italic">What?</span>"  asked O'Toole, incredulous.<br/><br/>"Seth not help... Seth not hurt..." the spider whispered, its fangs shifting.  "Seth smell rat blood... Rat blood sweet... Man blood sour... Seth not want get full on man blood..."<br/><br/>Halvorson's eyes widened.  "Baz..." he thought aloud.  Then he addressed the spider.  "He's our rat.  You can't have him."<br/><br/>"Seth want rat blood!"  The whisper built itself to a hiss.  "Seth wait until humans leave... Then Seth catch rat..."<br/><br/>O'Toole nudged Halvorson, pointing to the walls of the stone corridor, which, to Halvorson's dismay, were littered with cocoons.  They held past victims of the spider, apparently, seeing as how the corpses within were mostly rats and mice, desiccated and naturally mummified by the spider's feeding habits.<br/><br/>And then there was a group of long-dead humans, mummified against a wall behind the spider's shifting abdomen.<br/><br/>"I'm not so sure this thing wants to help us, L-T," O'Toole said.  "More like he just doesn't want to eat us."<br/><br/>Halvorson saw the medic come up through the hole and stagger away from the spider in shock and terror.  He leaned over the hole.  "Feign!  Sara!  Baz!  Get your asses up here quick!  Sara, carry Baz if you have to, but get him up here and keep him back!"  He slapped the medic on his shoulder.  "Hey!  Cover our rear!" He nodded through his shivers and turned down the corridor, his flashlight illuminating the cocoons on the walls.<br/><br/>O'Toole focused on the spider as the others came up.  "Your name is Seth?" she asked it.  Halvorson gave her a look of dismay and incredulity.  "Might as well distract it..." she whispered to him.  He nodded and moved to protect the hole, placing himself between it and the spider.<br/><br/>"Wolf-lady named Seth... Wolf-lady make Seth think... Tell Seth to guard honored dead..." the spider whispered.<br/><br/>"You're here to guard the dead?" said<br/><br/>"Seth not want to, but wolf-lady poke Seth and make Seth guard honored dead... Seth lonely... Seth hungry all the time...  Wolf-lady give Seth food sometimes, but never enough..." The spider stopped.  "Seth smell big rat... Seth want rat blood!"  The hiss it gave was one of frustration.<br/><br/>O'Toole tried to change the subject.  "Any other spiders down here?" she asked.<br/><br/>"Seth alone..."<br/><br/>Halvorson watched O'Toole converse with the spider, his mind racing.  Any guards that heard Baz's shotgun would be there at any moment.  He didn't want to take on the spider with that much trouble not far off.  He didn't know the spider's weaknesses - would bullets and blades even hurt it?  Alhanda wouldn't put a vulnerable creature down here.<br/><br/>"Anyone else try to come through here before?" O'Toole was asking.<br/><br/>"Seth only meet guards or honored dead... Seth not eat guards...  Seth can't...  Seth not eat dead...  Dead have no blood...."<br/><br/>O'Toole narrowed her eyes.  "Why don't you eat the guards?"<br/><br/>"Seth can't..."<br/><br/>"Why?"<br/><br/>"Seth can't..."<br/><br/>O'Toole looked briefly at Halvorson, who cut in.  "Well, this rat is not food.  He's our friend.  Got it?"<br/><br/>"Seth smell men...  Wolf-lady eats men...  Seth will take rat and leave men for wolf-lady..."<br/><br/>Halvorson sniffed, taking in the musty aroma of the catacombs.  This wasn't getting anywhere, but the others were through the hole now, and he was satisfied.  He had to find a way to keep this spider from coming for Baz while they fought off the Palace guards to get to Karogen.<br/><br/>Then he had an idea.  "Tell you what...  If you keep your eyes covered for three hours, we'll come back with all the rats you'd ever want.  You've got to keep your eyes covered, though.  I can see you all the time."<br/><br/>O'Toole looked at him with a wry grin.  The spider shifted its weight, as if straining to hold itself back from going for Baz outright.  "Seth not know what 'hour' is..."<br/><br/>Halvorson sighed.  "Just keep your eyes covered until we get back.  Then I'll tell you what to do to get the rats."<br/><br/>"You not eat honored dead?  If honored dead gone, wolf-lady kill Seth..."<br/><br/>"We won't.  I promise."<br/><br/>The spider shuffled backwards slightly.  Its abdomen - easily the size of a desk - lowered to rest on the stone floor.  "Seth will wait..."<br/><br/>Halvorson's eyes lit up.  He didn't dare question his luck, but grabbed O'Toole, announcing to the others, "Move it now, people!  Our boys are probably already here!"  He gripped his machine gun, making sure Baz and the others were away down the corridor behind him before he moved away from the spider named Seth, his blue glow diminishing as they withdrew.<br/><br/>The catacombs were a series of branching corridors, lined with spider-cocoons and ornate graves.  The royal coats of arms of ancient Houses  were engraved into the smooth, polished stone walls, marking each grave's family heritage.  Among the symbols of old, the arms of the long-defunct House Ajenda were marked above the newer-looking graves.  The names of the dead and their epitaphs were cut into the lids of the massive stone caskets.  House Shenzai's arms were not visible, at least not yet.  Control of Kazmer had only been wrested from House Ajenda in recent history, so it was logical to assume that not enough of House Shenzai's own had yet died to make an impression upon the ancient catacombs.<br/><br/>The group was a few hundred feet away from the intricately-decorated entrance to the Palace itself, through which the funeral processions of old had once passed to commend the dead of Kazmer's elite to eternal rest.<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>"Too long..." the old man rasped to Karogen.  "I've been due for my..." he choked on his tongue here, "...for my little ladle for days...."  He started to choke again.<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>Maeve's eyes were locked on Dreamer's face.  Her mouth was drawn into a tight-lipped grimace of mental agony.  Tears filled her eyes.  Her head shook slowly as his story went on.  Her voice cracked as she whispered the word "no" through a sob.<br/><br/>The men beside Dreamer and Kitten hesitated, their blades wavering slightly.  Even Lanner's aim faltered.  The story was convincing enough to cause that kind of hesitation.  After a moment, Lanner nodded at the men and they lowered their blades, taking a step back.<br/><br/>Lanner's barrel was still trained on Maeve, though, and his eyes were shifting back and forth from Dreamer to Kitten to Maeve.  He was thinking, and that was what he was good at.  A tense moment passed.  Then Lanner spoke.<br/><br/>"You're a Shadow..." he said lowly.  He paused again for a moment as Maeve sobbed silently, turning her head away from Dreamer.  His lips bent into a scowl.  "Fuck, you've convinced her..."  His anger returned then with the swiftness of a hurricane.  "Shark can't be done with the fat old Baron yet, so he shouldn't be in any hurry.  You go back and tell Shark I want to trade!  Bring me another cow - a nice fat one - and I'll let him have this one.<span style="font-style: italic">Not before!</span>And I want to watch when he eats her!"  He jerked his head at the shattered door.  "Now get the fuck out, and hurry it up!"<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>Feldana hugged Sherra as they crouched among the grain.  "I want my mommy," she said.  "Don't you want your mommy?"<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>The First Sergeant looked down at the dead bulldog-fur.  A brief flash of sensory memory brought the stench of that fur's breath back to his nose.  He let a long breath out through them to blow away the memory.  "Be my guest," he said to Marice.  "He's all yours."  He turned away and looked out the window to see that Crown Park was empty of Blood Cultists.  Dozens of dead or injured Resistance troops were strewn about what little of the undergrowth he could see.  Something was prominently protruding up from the center of his view of the park, though - a scalie, a female dragoness, was resting on her massively bloated stomach, ingesting and regurgitating soldiers.  As the First Sergeant looked, he saw the same men go into the dragoness and emerge from her minutes later.  Only... they were usually being carried or they were limping when they were being put into the dragoness' maw - when they came out, they were walking about on their own, seemingly invigorated.  His jaw dropped.<br/><br/><br/>Janus' face split into a wild grin.  He turned and sprinted away from Iln, rushing to the warehouse.  The medics hustled to pick up dead cultists and bring them to her.<br/><br/>The doors of the warehouse burst open as Janus kicked them.  Medics nearby jumped as they were startled, but Janus paid them no heed as he ran to a back corner of the warehouse, behind some old crates, and leaned down beside his wounded friend.<br/><br/>"Hey, Janus..." said Fenson, smirking and looking at him through half-closed eyes.<br/><br/>"Hey, man!" said Janus, unable to control his excitement.  "Guess what?"<br/><br/>"What?"<br/><br/>"You're gonna be healed, man!  That scalie girl - Chiro's sister - she's like, some sort of miracle, man!  She's healing everyone out there that's been wounded!"<br/><br/>Fenson coughed and lifted his head a little, a finger going to the shaft of the pen that was still lodged in his throat.  His eyes opened slightly wider and he frowned in disbelief.  "You've gotta be kidding..."<br/><br/>"No jokes, man!" said Janus, swiftly reaching under Fenson's shoulders and legs, lifting him gently.  "I'm gonna take you over there now.  You're gonna be all right, man!  You're gonna be all right!"<br/><br/>Janus' wide grin led the way as he took Fenson out of the warehouse, across the park, and over to Iln.<br/><br/><br/>Three of the exarches growled at Heretic, waving their blades and spikes.  One of them, a lanky ferret-fur, lashed out with his spiked chain, bringing his staff in behind it.  The two others darted left and right, trying to encircle Heretic.