Arachne Clans, Final Daughters. by Doom Rpg - Cover

Arachne Clans, Final Daughters. by Doom Rpg

Copyright© 2019 by Doom RPG

Chapter 1: Scorc hed Flesh

973 years later

Deep within the confines of the earth, the light was minimal. Marching slowly in cramped conditions, was a group of both human and dwarves. Equipped in steel armor with golden highlights the army marched in a rectangular formation. Within the the army was unable to have a perfect rectangle, each soldier was shoulder to shoulder with the other. However, at the front and back of the formation was a spearhead. At the ends of the formations was a special weapon given to heavily armed dwarves, equipped with a strange device. Narrow at the head, with a slightly opened mouth, the object was boxy at the somewhat crude base, where there was barely enough room for the dwarves to place their fingers on a trigger of sorts. A thick black pipe on each of the devices was connected to their user’s backpack. Sloshing loudly with each and every step., behind them, a smaller legion of men with spears and tower shields.
“Halt!” A voice, emanating from the center and echoing to each member of the force, commanded and was promptly obeyed.
That center figure, robed with gleaming, gem encrusted cloth and embroidered golden streaks, was undeniably a mage of high caliber. A few similarly—though less glamorously, without gems and using mere silver for the embroidery—robed magi stood around the arch-mage. They chanted in arcane tongues, sending out a greenish field of energy that expanded outward. Phasing through the armored soldiers, going out past the torchlight and into the darkness—where seemingly nothing else existed. Everyone in the army took a deep, collective breath before gripping their shields, and their weapons, with all their strength.
Just outside the light provided by the torch’s light. They. Were. Everywhere. Spiders, ranging in size from mere inches to several feet, crawled atop one another as they clung to the walls, floor, and even to the high ceiling. The light then snapped onto the closest spider as it reached its limits, turning the surrounding spiders into blossoms of fire, scorching their nearest kin and roasting them alive. From their scorched corpses, the spell, like a parasite, danced between spiders, beginning the process anew. Despite the newfound light, the spiders were darker than coal, appearing to absorb the light and spew darkness in its place. Their only color was in their eyes six each, and redder than blood. As the fire spread, their dagger-sharp legs danced in agitation, while their fangs dripped with venom though only a drop would suffice.
The spiders charged forward, descending from the walls and ceiling to attack the army from all sides. High pitched screeches echoed across the underground as fireballs, fired from the wands and staves of magi, roared into the spiders. Though corpses fell like raindrops, the swarm was unending. It seemed as though they would not—could not—be stopped.
Larger ones, able to withstand the fireballs, found themselves assailed by flaming arrows and crossbow bolts that drove into their flesh before setting them on fire. At the front, the flames roared forward before curving upwards and fading. A devilish screech was heard as a massive spider, the size of five men both in width and length, leaps forth almost forty meters, landing near the center of the formation where the arch mage stood. It then lunged forward to pick up the nearest mage, grabbing them with its fangs. Then, tearing the poor screaming sap in half, it tossed the upper portion onto the wall, where it was promptly overwhelmed by spiders.
“EAT THIS!” a rough voice shouted. A bola, each end equipped with explosives, wrapped itself around the creature’s left fang, exploding upon impact. Its thrower, a regal-looking Dwarf in bronze, rushed forward, followed shortly by a contingent of bodyguards in black armor. The spider, only lightly wounded despite the explosion, reared about to face the Dwarven king and his retinue. Then, from the darkness, an arrow of blue light suddenly flared forward into the combined men and dwarves force traveling through the flames into the spearhead...
A teal barrier, fueled by the arch-mage using magic initially intended for the massive spider, sprang into action just as the blue-flamed arrow reached the front of the formation. The arrow struggled against the barrier, inches from its initial target, who squirmed futilely, trapped as he was between his fellow soldiers ... The arrow then curved upward, suddenly rising into the sky before making a U-turn downwards. The arrow went straight to the rear end of the formation, aiming directly at one of the fuel packs for the flame throwing device. An explosion of both blue, magical flames, and red, natural flames, roared through the caves.
“Quick! Fill in the gaps!” The arch-mage, having instinctively formed a defensive barrier around himself, cried out as even more spiders spewed forth, unfazed by the blue flames. The battle had only begun and there was no clear winner in sight.

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