The pungent scent of the herbal tea gently diffused into the air as the aged hand curled so carefully about the handle of the elegantly crafted mug; made from fine ceramic, and embossed with a stylized dragon upon the side. It made it's journey to the lips of the elderly man with his kindly grey eyes peering over the rim. He was Charit, of the 2nd Circle of the Circle of Spellcasters... White wizard, and Scholar.

"So you have come all this way, traveller, to ask of the ways of the Viparious." A smile touched the corners of his lips as he lowered the cup into the saucer, set on the surface of the plainly carved wooden table.

"Yes, wise one." The man seated across from him spoke, his voice level and obeisant as though addressing no one less than his king. "The knowledge could prove useful, at one point."

"Very well," Charit said thoughtfully, touching the tips of his fingers together as he settled into the high backed chair. "I suppose.. to truly know of the Viparious.. one must know of their past. And of their creation..." He fixed his eyes upon the youthful face peering out at him from the hood. He grew distant, as the tale began to unfold.

"It all began long ago. During the time when the Dark Wars ravaged the land. With twisted sorcery, Gandoran had united the forces of the orcs and the goblins... tainted their forms with the magics of the Crystal of Kendora, a powerful artifact created by the great wizard, Kalandor. It wasn't enough for him, however. To be entirely sated, he not only required bloodshed. He needed to become, in his own twisted mind, a god. And thus began his experiments... "

"Curse the lighting here.." The sorceror muttered to himself as he stooped over the worktable, index finger extended to run along the page. He was anything but how one would picture a mage as old as he. He'd seen the founding of the 'almighty' Circle of Spellcasters, who had served as sentinels over this world. Khir Khira. He spat upon the floor as the word leapt unbidden into his mind. Oh, with the Crystal he had stolen, he could no doubt crush them and turn their world into ashes in no time. And the Circle was in no position to stop him. A cruel glimmer settled into his eyes. Not since their 'key' to their homeworld had been taken, that is.

His attention snapped back to the book opened in front of him. It was a book which had lasted as long as he, he supposed. One which he had taken from their library before departing. But this book was special. Within the depths of those crisp pages, yellowed with age, it spoke of how to tamper with the makeups of entire races. And creatures. Already, he'd used the knowledge he'd uncovered to work upon his minions. Embued the orcs with great strength and constitution. While he'd amplified both the brainpower and agility of the goblins. But still... they weren't enough. It wouldn't -be- enough, until he'd created his own races to serve him and defile the land. Yes.. He had a plan.

"Master.. The specimens have been placed in the summoning chamber as you had commanded." The crafty voice of the goblin shattered the silence of his musings. How he'd managed to get so close to him without his notice.. It didn't matter. He acknowledged the servant with simply a dismissive wave, clutched his staff up from its rest against the wall, and turned with a flourish to stride from the room.

The summoning room was circular in shape; massive enough to contain a small contingent of troops should need be. In the center, sunken into the floor was a large pit which served dubious purpose. A bridge spanned across the diameter. A cluster of cages dominated the far side of the room, just at the edge of the pit. They were made of sturdy iron, entirely free of rust. For it wouldn't do for one of his creations to find escape. Several shapes could be seen clinging to the bars of these cages as he approached, prodded away from them again by the polearms of orcish guardsmen.

As he approached, many of the orcs snorted piglike and stood at a form of attention. He waved them down with the pass of a hand. The goblin had followed him into the room, and stood by his side. His personal aid, he mused. Though not fondly. The goblins were anything but an achievement to him. More like.. practice. "Have you brought what I've requested?" He spoke to the air in front of him, catching a glimpse of a human face behind the bars of one of the cages.

"Yes, master.. They are to be unleashed to the pit, as needed. The fiercest spiders from the desert around Ashkima.. The most lethal vipers from the forests near Khiran Brook. And.. Well.. the specialty you had ordered remains to be filled. You see.. we lack a volunteer."

"What?" snarled Gandoran, whipping his head around to glare down at the goblin, who stood a full head shorter than himself.

"We tried, master. But no one would volunteer.."

"Fools." The sorceror murmured and then pointed a clawlike fingernail at a human guard standing near one of the exits. "You. Come here." His voice amplified by a minor cantrip.

The man stood gossiping casually with another. The other took flight into the hallway as the wizard spoke. The first cooly met Gandoran's gaze. "What d'ya want?"

"What is your name?" Gandoran spoke in a low unsettling tone, disliking the man's disrespect for his.. betters.

"Field Commander Yal Daerzen, SIR." He half hollared across the room, standing at mock attention and tipping a flimsy salute. He'd turned his head and rolled his eyes. As though the sorceror wouldn't see.

"Come here, Field Commander." He said slowly, turning his pointed finger over to curl it in beckoning. The man haphazardly strode over to him, as though answering a call to dinner.

"Yeah?" The man sniffed, and his sleeve made a pass across his nose.

"You will do nicely." Gandoran said coldy. And then abruptly gestured to a pair of orcish guards. "You two. Detain our Commander. Skavar. Go with them, and make sure he is not.. damaged. Prepare him for the experiments."

The goblin aid bowed in obedience as the orcs each snatched an arm of the now struggling field commander, and hauled him from the room...

The sorceror stood atop the bridge spanning the pit below. Far beneath him, the stone floor was carpeted with the crawling, skittering forms of the most voracious spiders he'd laid eyes upon. Fortunately for himself and his aid, the walls had been prepared beforehand to send any crawlers sliding back onto the floor of the pit.

The cages had been set along the outer edges of the pit. A guard stood beside each one, a poleaxe brandished dangerously as warning to the occupants. The humans clustered within had huddled to the center of the cages, as in hope to avoid the fate to come.

"Throw them in!" He hollared to the orc guarding one of the cages. The door swung open as the guard forcefully ripped it off it's hinges. The orc reached in and extracted a screaming female, pitching her form into the pit headfirst.

A sickening crunch, and the screaming abruptly stopped. Spiders began to swarm the reddening floor. There was a sigh from the wizard, slowly shaking his head, while massaging his temples between index finger and thumb. " 'Place' them in.." He ammended.

This time, the orc chose a human male from the cage, first. He proceeded to first lower the struggling form feet first, gripped by the shoulders, into the pit. As the orc released the man, he dropped the rest of the distance onto the floor, knees buckling, right onto a mound of crawling spiders. More of the not-so-willing volunteers were 'placed', one by one, into the pit. No sooner had they landed, than they brushed frantically at the swarming insects in a futile attempt to free themselves from their voracious appetites.

Gandoran curled his upper lip into a sneer, quite enjoying the floorshow below. But the humans must -not- be allowed to die, he reminded himself. And thus, he began the ritual...

Slowly his words flowed from his mouth, arms splayed to either side, in the air. A breeze seemed to pick up in the room. A stone portal slid open with a low grating sound, in the ceiling far above, a massive crystal, unconcealed now, magnifying the light of the full moon to all it's glory, into the pit. His chanting grew in timbre.. his voice echoing to every niche and cranny of the circular room.. More intense. His hair whipped about his ears, his robes billowed about him. His aid, beside him, fell to his knees and held onto the bridge so as not to be flung to the floor below.

The shrill screeches of the spiders bellowed up from below. The humans, wide eyed, could only stare in shock as their forms began to glow with the spiders clinging to them.

The first scream of agony swirled up through the portal above. A fierce light blasted downwards, bypassing the bridge, but slamming into the floor of the pit, full force. More screams intermingled with the shrillness of the spider screeches.. Until they melded into one sound.. one noise.. one voice..

The light faded into nothingness as his words trailed off, and above, the stone slid back into place to conceal the crystal. The noises stopped.. An unsettling silence. Skavar blinked to clear his vision.. and sucked in a breath as he looked over the side of the bridge.

"They are beautiful." Gandoran spoke to himself.. staring down as well. They were anything but beautiful to a man in his right mind.. Twisted beasts, they possessed two limbs with which bore their weight, upright.. And six limbs for grasping and other actions. Either way.. all of the limbs ended in razor sharp claws. Their heads were shaped as almonds.. two rows of three eyes each upon the lower end. And furry antennae writhing about at the top. Their spider like mandibles clicked furiously together, a gleaming venom dripping from the tips, still attempting to comprehend what had happened. And then Gandoran knew..

The first shrill giggle rattled up to him and his risen hopes fell. The creatures had already begun creeping around, exploring their den, the pit. But there was always hope, he thought to himself.

"My children," He spoke down to them, arms lowering to his sides. "Children. You have been created.. For a purpose." One of the almond shaped heads perked up to look at him and tilted to the side. "Purpose for be me?" A giggle. "We purpose! Big father! Father big head? Big head!" Punctuated with a giggle, and another of his kind pouncing upon him and gnawing playfully upon his hardened carapace.

Gandoran breathed out a sigh, eyes turned up to the now concealed crystal, as if to gain an answer from there. To his aid, a mutter, "They make the orcs look like sages, in comparison."

"Perhaps, master, it is simply because they are newly formed. Maybe it shall take awhile.."

"No. Can't you feel it? Their warped minds... even -I- cannot contact them. They are insane."

"What shall.. what shall I have the guards do about them?" Skavar asked, pointing at the creatures, below.
The sorceror paused. Perhaps.. perhaps even they could serve some purpose. His.. He fumbled for a name. Aradicas.. Yes. It seemed to fit them. "Have my Aradicas tended to... and if possible, place them upon the front lines. I would be most interested to see how they last. Or what else might happen."

"Yes, my master," Skavar turned from the room, to relay the orders of his master.

And on the next night, pondered Gandoran... On the next night, I shall do better. It simply requires more.. study. He turned upon the bridge and strode towards his chambers, attempting to tune out the chirps and screeches of his idiotic children.

Charit set down the mug again after another sip, a break in his tale. The wanderer simply stared at him, as though in disbelief.

"But what about the Viparious?" He asked, frustrated.

"Ahh, but you must be patient, young one. I'm getting to that.. But it is getting late. And perhaps it would be best, if you came back tomorrow, to hear the end of my tale.."

The traveller sighed wearily and nodded. It -was- getting late. And he hadn't yet eaten or even found a place to stay. "Very well, great one. I will return on the morrow."

Charit smiled to himself as the young man rose from his chair and left. Perhaps here was one who would be worthy. He'd felt a power within emanating from him. Although he could be wrong. Always a possibility. But also a rarity...

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