Ched Nasad,
the City of Shimmering Webs.
A construct of hundreds of layers of calcified spider webs with a characteristic structure: The greater the social rank, the higher the layer of residence. The same held true for the opposite, turning the lower levels into a home of the poor, the disgraced - and the Ssin d’Aerth.
My Mother was one of them: An artist. A musician. A courtesan.
When I was old enough, I was meant to learn her craft and pick up her business alongside my sister Ulviiriina. Yet unlike her, I lacked the artistic talent. The sensibility. And, honestly, the will.
As a result, I was sent to the Temple of Lolth instead, to become a Yath’abban and make up for the family’s disreputable business.
My memories of this time are ambiguous: I lived among nobles in the acolyte quarters and enjoyed luxury I’d never seen before. But this luxury came at a price: I was forced to please the Spider Queen to retain her arbitrary favor, as losing it would have resulted in bleeding dry on a Lolthite altar, sooner than later.
I had to do horrible things to avoid that.
The pained screams of the scourged. I can still hear them today, in my moments of weakness. Then, when I close my eyes, I see my victims staring at me as if silently condemning me for what gruesome deeds I had to commit in order to survive.
Their blood is still staining my hands - and I doubt I will ever be able to wash it off.
I cannot change the past.
But I can do better in future.
the City of Shimmering Webs.
A construct of hundreds of layers of calcified spider webs with a characteristic structure: The greater the social rank, the higher the layer of residence. The same held true for the opposite, turning the lower levels into a home of the poor, the disgraced - and the Ssin d’Aerth.
My Mother was one of them: An artist. A musician. A courtesan.
When I was old enough, I was meant to learn her craft and pick up her business alongside my sister Ulviiriina. Yet unlike her, I lacked the artistic talent. The sensibility. And, honestly, the will.
As a result, I was sent to the Temple of Lolth instead, to become a Yath’abban and make up for the family’s disreputable business.
My memories of this time are ambiguous: I lived among nobles in the acolyte quarters and enjoyed luxury I’d never seen before. But this luxury came at a price: I was forced to please the Spider Queen to retain her arbitrary favor, as losing it would have resulted in bleeding dry on a Lolthite altar, sooner than later.
I had to do horrible things to avoid that.
The pained screams of the scourged. I can still hear them today, in my moments of weakness. Then, when I close my eyes, I see my victims staring at me as if silently condemning me for what gruesome deeds I had to commit in order to survive.
Their blood is still staining my hands - and I doubt I will ever be able to wash it off.
I cannot change the past.
But I can do better in future.