West Çanakkale, Mansion, Blenda's Room The young man titled his head to one side, regarding his master as she searched for the end of her sentence... though when she found it, he wasn't pleased by the words.
"Forceful?" he repeated back to her. His eyes darkened, and his expression morphed into a scowl.
"You know nothing of Pharaohs, master," Berserker scoffed. He turned from Blenda, rolling his shoulders with a huff.
"All of the Pharaoh's kingdom is at their fingertips. What need have we to be forceful when people are eager to serve their god?"Or destroy them. Berserker waved the dark thought away. He could feel his irritation rising, but he ignored it as best he could. As far as partnerships went, his and Blenda's was still new. There was no sense in sabotaging it already. Besides, he had nothing to prove to her. While Blenda went about her chance based method of choosing, Berserker drummed his fingers along his arms. Behind him, he heard Blenda call out the result: tails.
I suppose this is
a team effort, he thought. Some of the Blue Team he'd already met in passing, but most were still a complete mystery. Including Blenda honestly, but in time that would no longer be the case. He'd already learned that the woman was wont to play around with games of chance, something that didn't so much intrigue Berserker as... disconcert him, maybe.
He brushed passed his master, exiting the room. He made space for Blenda to pass him by if she so wanted, but otherwise he started off.
"What do you already know about the others?" he asked,
"What do you think of them? Tell me."
West Çanakkale, Inside the Mansion
Collab with @Enkryption Saber seemed preoccupied with whatever it was she was doing with those dishes, so Farren smiled and shrugged at his own servant, gently ushering her out of the courtyard and into the mansion proper.
"Well, moving on. I'll show you the grounds after a few key locations inside," he chuckled. Being the man he was, Farren had already memorized the layout. His dress shoes clicked against the stone floor as he led them both deeper inside.
“It would be nice to expand my control over the forest outside, but it can wait a little while.”"
That is something I can easily do," Arachne says. "
I have a vast control over spiders, after all. I can adapt their senses to my own, and see and hear for several miles around me."
"Indeed. With your power we can not only expand the web network, but improve it."It would be a wonderful project, working with Arachne up close. Watching her unparalleled weaving, not to mention her magic from the age of gods, would be a once in a lifetime experience. Every movement in those woods were his familiars were spread already transmitted back to Farren, and sharing it with Arachne as well would be nothing but beneficial. Getting himself, his spiders, and the first spider on a completely shared network was priority one...
...after a tour of the mansion.
"So, the first stop." Farren had guided them both through the wide hallways and into a spacious dining hall.
“
My, my, such a great hall,” Arachne says, “
Fit to entertain feasts of Kings and Queens, Emperors and Empresses,” she says, looking around, “
yet, no guards. Is it only we, Servants, set to guard this place? Have you nothing else?”
Farren shrugged one shoulder.
"The lord of the house has his ways. Besides, if all goes well, no enemy would make it through the surrounding forest."He ran his hand across the wooden table top as he moved through the hall. Through another door was an equally spacious kitchen, also currently unoccupied. Garlic and other dried vegetables hung from the walls, and fruits sat out on tables for any peckish passerbys.
"We'll head up stairs to the living area. I understand that Servants don't need to sleep, but I'm sure if you desire a room we can give you that.""
The meals one could cook in such a place," Arachne says, lagging behind. "
I needn't a room for slumber, no, but a place to weave is greatly desired." Arachne couldn't weave without space for her wheel and loom. Surely, there was a room with such space within. "
Within short order, I could weave web for miles out," she boasts, radiating a pride unbreakable. "
I can weave anything, after all."
"Then you'll have it. A room with a view so you can overlook your work." The servant's confidence made Farren all the more eager to see her work.
"Is there anything else you'll need? Better to get everything now while it's early."“
Ideas,” Arachne says, “
Art comes of inspiration. Like, an idea of guards or some such,” she says, “
I could weave a grand meal, but such a thing is hollow, and hollow works mean nothing.”
"Inspiration," Farren echoed, touching a hand to his chin. The Irishman was a collector, not so much an artist. The only thing he'd ever created were the spiders that littered the mansion. Still, even he could understand the need for something to inspire.
"Makes sense. I'll call upon the others if I have to in order to provide you the greatest references... I suppose just a page in a book won't do."Her suggestion was a wise one. In addition to crafted guardsmen, it might benefit the blue team for their Caster to weave some other defenses as well, should the forest of webs fail. You never knew with spirits as powerful as the ones they'd summoned here. Gates, dogs - Hell, even monsters.
Better not get ahead of myself. Let's start with the guardsmen."
If you have ideas, I have the silk to bring them forward," Arachne says, pressing her fingers together, and pulling them apart; silk spread between the contact of her well-filed nails. It was a rainbow of colors, and she started to move her fingers in a sweeping motions, which brought the silk together; strands mixed by deft movements of fingers, like those upon a loom, and a pattern emerged from nothing. "
An idea becomes realized, if one understands it," she says, as the pattern was becoming a fine kitchen set of pots and utensils... and a sword. "
The better than understanding, the more significant the art, and the more profound and lasting it becomes."
Arachne held up a small tapestry, a scene of a kitchen at work, with a prominence placed on the countertop, and the sword. Suddenly, she turned it over, and shook out the kitchenware falling out with realistic metal clatters, while the sword hit with an almost wooden thump. It was clearly not as understood as the kitchenware, for why would a weaver be familiar with a sword?
"Incredible..." Farren reached to pick up the sword, turning the false object over in his hands. Creating something from nothing was one thing, but the speed and relative accuracy of his servant was another. He looked over at Arachne with the same pleased look in his eye that'd been there since he'd summoned her.
"Let's get you set up as quickly as possible, so you can work your magic," he said, leaving the kitchenware to litter the floor but taking the makeshift weapon with him.
"Understanding, hm? I can help you with that. We'll make the designs something closer to what you might have seen in your lifetime for simplicity - and I'll bring you any information I don't already have in my head. Tomes, paintings, local experts." Farren nodded to himself as he spoke, leading Caster quickly away and toward a narrow staircase headed for the private guest chambers.
"Miss Spider, do you know how the human body works? We can start there. I have no doubt of your ability, but I can lend you my familiars if you have need of them as well.""
I have a general idea of how my human body works, so I could create a human woman, if you so desired such companionship," Arachne says, assuming that was Farren's goal with a clear look of displeasure, "
"Of course, I am not versed in the workings of the mind, so it would be without much of a mind, if didn't instill it with some means to achieve will and sapience. Maybe, design it to be driven by your familiars with your knowledge in tow?"Arachne looked more displeased, now, however.
The Irishman laughed.
"Companionship - no. I've always been more of a lone wanderer. Besides, I have you by my side, don't I?"Master and servant's footsteps echoed in the stone stairwell as they chatted.
"That said, I suppose whether a male or female body is used doesn’t matter. We can use the spiders as a 'brain' of sorts, that will work. I'll breed more of them with that in mind. I'm no tactician, but at the very least our new guardsmen won't be as mindless constructs." He considered the feasibility of piloting the false guards while maintaining the information web both inside and out of the manse... and supplying Caster with energy. This was a situation Farren hadn't expected to find himself in even just a few months ago, but he thought he could handle it all the same.
"I expect these woven guardsmen will be mere distractions for the likes of an enemy servant, but even just time bought for our allies is valuable on the battlefield. Or so I've read. Ah, here."The top of the stairs led to a small landing, and beyond that a hall where a long ornate carpet was run. There were doors dotting the walls every few dozen feet.
Arachne seemed placated by that response; the spider within satisfied on a territorial level - for now. In the interim, the woman was thinking. As she settled her thought, she spoke, "
A female body is what I'm most familiar with. Features like strength and such are implications of perception. If we see a man in rich clothing, we assume he is such - even though, if truth, he may be a penniless pauper and a thief. So, if my weaving of said guardsmen is one that invokes strength of will and form, their femininity will play no negative roles." Arachne's fingernails clacked together, one by one, in a staccato rhythm in fourths, as she paused to think, before she continued, "
Hoplite are the strongest warriors I knew of; Centurion, their Roman counterpart, as well. To be female and involved in such a militaristic position would denote strength unusual and undeniable."
Arachne turned, "
As well as, unmistakable." As they reached the summit landing of the stairwell, and looked upon the carpeting long and ornate, Arachne hummed. "
It would be pertinent, perhaps, to make smaller animals, as well. Vermin, or some such that do not fare out of place or line. In such, we can extend my eyes and ears beyond my limit without endangering your life," she suggested, planning forward, "I can control and see and hear through all spiders upon their webs within three miles of my waking body. Therefore, your familiars in their puppet suits can work beyond that, especially when I am asleep, and that area of knowing dulls to a mile. If they sense oddities outside of my area of knowing, I may focus my attention better, and filter out the noise, so to speak."
Arachne paused in front of a door. "
Does that sound like a good enough idea, Master Farren," she asks, as she turned the door handle. "
This is the room I've chosen."
Farren turned the knob and clicked open the door to his servant's new room, though he didn't enter it, letting her step inside first.
"That's a fine plan indeed," he said, giving Arachne his approval.
"I wouldn't worry so much about me. I may not be a fighter, but I am, ah... efficient, at the very least. Still, it couldn't hurt. We'll spread our webs as far as possible and catch as many flies unawares as we can."“
As a spider is wont to do,” Arachne says, as she entered, with a marked note of sadness to her tone - clearly unhappy with the cursed nature of her children.
Her words gave Farren pause, though only briefly. Whether it was his nature as a magus, or as a man, he didn't ask about the forlorn tone of her voice.
"Let's get you set up then. And," he said, touching a finger to his forehead.
"We're linked together, and you have some great connection to your kin, but we'll officially connect you to my personal brood."Arachne tilted her head, rather maiden-like.
“Hm,” she nodded.
Her master stepped inside the room to join her, taking in the rather plain interior compared to the rest of the mansion. Gently, he closed the door behind him and offered Arachne a smile. Without any flair, Farren reached up to the right side of his face, spending a few moments to caress what was hidden underneath his hair there.
"It will be easier with the newborns I think," he explained. After a moment or two, his hand came away and inside it was a small, spherical crystal. Arachne could easily feel what was inside of it, and Farren didn't feel he had to voice that he'd already placed complete trust in his servant despite meeting her that very day.
"Let's get started."Arachne clashed her fingernails together, and ripped them apart at contact; five glittering, silken strands held in the air like a rainbow, before she repeated the process.
Silently, with naught but a nod, she set to work. In due time, Farren would see the first woven tapestry of a naked, human female, like a veritable work of art, appear.
And, if his mythology was sharp enough, he would realize it was based on paintings of Athena - the one that Arachne hated most for cursing her life.
Now, a slave - in image - to her needs.