There is a creature deep in the southern forests known as the Spider King. According to legend, this evil being has four arms with fingers tipped in claws, the strength of a dozen men, inhuman speed, and the ability to spit a sticky, strong substance similar to spider silk. Oh, and treasure. Lots and lots of treasure.
It is my duty, as a paladin of the realm, to seek out evil and eliminate it, in the name of my king, my country, and my God. The Spider King is a being of great evil, left over from the dawn of civilization, when he bartered with false gods to become unaging. Therefore, I have journeyed deep into the southern forests with the goal of slaying him. Many of my order have undertaken this quest. None have succeeded, and few have returned. I am the first woman to begin this journey. I will, by the grace of God, be the one to finally triumph.
It took me many days, many battles, and a great deal of searching to find The Spider King's lair, but I have finally done it. The local fairy folk, beings of less than a foot in height, pointed the way, with the usual riddles and requests for bribes. And much giggling. Unusual, that. They are seldom merry in this day and age, as the Church's policy towards them grows less lenient. They are neutral beings, not evil, but the current clergy find that just as abhorrent. In the night, I wonder whether they are right. But it is blasphemy, of course, to doubt the priests, who speak with the voice of the one true God.
I shake my head to clear it of such distracting thoughts, and survey the forest warily. The trees here are large and old, with little underbrush on the ground between them. Nothing moves. No animals. No birds. No insects. Not even a slight breeze. The forest is watching. Waiting.
Just under the place where a partially fallen, rotting tree meets its healthy neighbor is a hole, just as the fairy folk said. It is large, but mostly lost in the shadow of the long dead behemoth and the surrounding giants. I sit at the edge of the hole, and then slide down into darkness, ducking my head to avoid cracking it on the trunk above.
The light from the entrance fades quickly as I continue down the earthen tunnels. Fortunately, I have a stone imbued by a priest with the light of my God. It is one of my most precious possessions, second only to my sword in utility, as I must often travel in darkness. When I activate it, it sheds a bright, slightly blueish glow which passes through the skin of my hand, outlining my bones. With my other hand, I draw my sword.
The tunnels are gradually transitioning from soil to stone. I slow my pace, and soften my footsteps, but I can still hear the sound my boots make against the surprisingly smooth stone floor. The passage opens up into a room. I lift my holy light stone high above my head to push away the shadows around the edges, and see the glint of gold.
I take a step forward to get a better look, and I am immediately struck from behind. My light stone clatters away. I stumble forward, never losing my grip on my sword, and whirl.
The Spider King is sitting, crouched, on a protrusion of stone above the chamber's entrance. He is magnificent to behold. His four arms are thick and muscular, with smaller claws than I expected, and his chest is equally muscular, bare of clothing, and very broad. He will make a fine trophy. I find myself having difficulty believing him capable of speed or grace until he leaps from his perch, landing behind me and striking me yet another blow to the back of my head. I whirl again and sway, dizzy from the abuse, but keep my sword in the guard position, as I have been taught.
He is smiling. "You will regret having found my cave, paladin," he tells me. Then his eyes widen in surprise. I abruptly realize my helmet has been knocked off.
"A woman," he breathes. I take advantage of his distraction to strike. He jerks back in time to prevent me from skewering him, but I draw a line of blood across his chest. First blood. Victory shall be mine.
I press the attack, shouting, "Die, foul beast!"
He avoids my strikes handily, backing away. "Do you really find me foul, my lady?" he asks, peering with bright green eyes from under black bangs and long lashes.
I don't, not really. He is actually quite attractive, especially in only a loincloth. But I can't tell him that. "Evil is always foul in my sight!" I proclaim, dodging an almost lazy flash of silver claws.
"Really?" he asks, relaxed and curious, almost as if we were meeting at a party, not fighting in a dank cave.
"Yes!" I answer in almost a grunt as I strike, yet again, and again draw a thin line of blood as he dodges.
"Why are you here to see me, then, if I am so foul?" He takes another swipe at me, and I again dodge it easily.
"Because, by the will of the Lord, evil must be slain!" Is he even trying to hit me, I wonder as I dart away from his claws.
"How do you know I'm evil?" he asks. "It has been, oh, hundreds of your years since I have done anything you might consider bad. What if I've changed my ways?"
"You murdered my fellow paladins!" I retort, as I aim for his neck. "That's evil!"
He dodges. "I defended myself when they invaded my home. Surely that is acceptable, non evil, conduct?"
I frown. I never thought of it that way. "They were doing their duty! They were sworn, as I am, to defend the land from threats!"
"As I said, it has been a long time since I have done anything evil. How am I a threat?" he responds. "How is sitting alone in my cave threatening anyone?"
I can think of no reply to this question, so I stay silent, concentrating on the fight.
"So why are you here, if not to dispose of a threat?" he asks, eyes glinting from the shadows. He is now between me and my light stone. It makes him difficult to hit.
"You're still evil!" I grunt. I am starting to get out of breath.
"Just by being?" he asks. "Is evil really something you just are?"
I don't answer. The current leadership of the Church would have responded to his question with a definitive yes. But, alone in my bed at night, or on the ground beneath the stars, I wonder.
"So, if you aren't here because I am evil, or because I'm a threat, why have you come, lady?" He smiles. "Is it because of my treasure?"
"No!" I grunt. "I've never even..." Gasp... "considered it." But we both know it is a lie.
"Hmmm... Killing someone for treasure... That kind of sounds... Evil. If it wasn't a paladin doing it, of course. But that brings us back to out earlier question. Is evil something you are? Or is it something you do?"
I step away as he advances, and feel the cold of stone against my back. The bastard. He was distracting me with his serpent tongue, and has maneuvered me against a wall. I will need to finish this quickly now. I lunge, aiming for his heart.
He catches my blade between his hands, and snaps it off effortlessly near the hilt. Throwing the broken blade aside, he grabs the wrist of my sword hand and forces it up against the wall. He leans his head back, and jerks it forward, letting loose a glob of what can only be his webbing. In an instant I, now weaponless, am stuck to the wall.
"You evil bastard!" I cry as I try to free my hand.
"There's that word again," he says, mockingly. "Do you truly know what it means? Perhaps I'll show you."
He spits again, and again. My legs are now stuck as well. He snatches my final free limb. I fight him with all my strength, but he slowly forces it against the wall by my side. "There's no escape now, paladin. You may as well stop fighting," he tells me, sounding almost kind.
"Go to hell!" I shout as his spit traps my free hand. "Go to hell and burn!"
"Maybe. Someday," he says, absently, looking me up and down. His eyes linger where I'd rather they wouldn't. My breasts are small, but still noticeable beneath my leather armor. My checks burn.
His claws flash. I close my eyes. This is it. The end. But, strangely, there is no pain. And a cold breeze hardening my nipples. I look down.
The Spider King has, with great precision, sliced open my armor.
Shit.
My leather leggings and thigh length modesty skirt are next. I curse at the Spider King, calling him every vile name I can think of, and struggle to free myself. It is to no avail. His loincloth is bulging now in a rather alarming way, but he takes his time in stripping me, until all I am wearing is my boots. I can feel the cold stone against my ass. The cold stone, and the Spider King's surprisingly warm hand. He squeezes slightly. I expect to feel the sting of claws, but I don't. Two of his other hands are stroking my breasts, and playing with my nipples. The fourth hand slowly undoes the clasp on his loincloth. It falls to the floor, revealing something the legends did not mention.
"Fuck," I whisper.