(Disclaimer: Beware gorey naughtyness of a sacrafice. Cruelty to elves and nudeness of drow.)
The sun elf's eyes were filled with despair. He knew there was no hope, but the fear of what was to come pushed him to fight against the iron shackles that bound him upon the altar. He had been stripped of his clothing, his legs and arms secured by the chains.
"The black archers will... come for you all." His words echoed in the stone hall of the unholy chapel of the Spider Queen, drawing two of her children towards the altar.
The first daughter of house Ussen d'Vhid easily pushed aside the words of the sun elf in her mind. As she undid the the broach that fastened her piwafi cloak, the spidersilk slithered silently to the dark stone floor. Gently and patiently, she undid the straps of her robe, until her flesh was laid bare before the eyes of lolth.
"What Sacrilege is... Shevarash WILL find you! They will all find you... Disgraces!" Her voice easily carried above the threats and insults of the bound man. Her dark words echoing throughout the chamber.
"Great Goddess, Mother of the Dark, grant me the blood of my enemies to drink and their living hearts for meat. Grant me the screams of their young for song!" One of the two great spiders in the room began to weave it's front two legs, almost hypnoticingly as it peered at the captive with it's eight eyes, clearly lusting after the bound elf's lifeblood.
"Bitch! Take my body! You will -never- take the Seldarine!" Though as he shouted, he soon realized his death was very close. His eyes widened at the two spiders, as the ritual began to seep into his being. In response, the spiders reared up a little, the front legs just shy of touching the elf, furiously clicking as the beedy red eyes stared back at him hungrily. The very definition of fear now encaptured the elf as they drew closer. His wounds forcing his body to spasm in pain, he watched in breathless horror.
The fear of the victim seemed to enthrall them, their clicking hastening in pitch, as if urging the priestess on to the climax of the ritual.
"Grant me the helplesness of their males for my satisfaction." She slowly reached for an obsidian glass jar, uncorking it. Gently she proceeded to pour the content upon Caldur's chest. Not a fluid, or a powder, but dozens upon dozens of small flesh eating spiders. It had been her personal signature for sacrafices since the days she had studied at Ultrinnan's Arach Tilith under her aunt Mourniss Arabett.
"Grant me the wealth of their houses for my bed...""Rghh!!! ARRGHHHHHH!" Screaming, Caldur helplessly trashed around as much as his bindings allowed, trying to throw the spiders off.
"By this unworthy sacrafice, I honor you, Queen of Spiders! I beseech you for the strength to destroy my foes!""SELDA-AAAAAAHH!" Caldur's body began to look like a symphony of thrashing and the spiders biting back in miniscule amounts. Tears began to flow from his eyes, as the priestess reached for the sacraficial dagger. Slowly she raised it with both hands above her head.
"By this unworthy sacrafice I honor you, Mother of the Dark!""ABOMI-" his words were cut short, as the dozen of small spiders began to devour his neck. With perfectly executed and trained precision, the drow priestess plunged the blade into the lower chest of the sun elf - just beneath his ribcage. Cutting down to his lower stomach, she immediately plunged her hand into his chest cavity to rip out his yet beating heart, only to raise it above her head, to allow Caldur to see it.
"With this unworthy sacrafice I honor you, Great Goddess! Lolth to malla!"ARRGGHHH!" Caldur's eyes were wide at the sight and a scram not capable of the sun elf is released. Then his eyes faded. For a brief moment fairy fire outlined the two large arachnids that stood on either side of the bloodied altar. For a moment, the priestess glimpsed a pair of lips forming on the left most spider's head. Cutting the heart entwine, she gave each of them a half.
"May your children devour his heart, as you may devour his soul!" Lounging at their prize, they began to feast upon it, suckling it dry of every drop of blood in a gruesomely noisy manner. One last time, in fanatic ectasy that left no doubt as to her devotion, she repeated the three words that Caldur died by.
"Lolth tlu malla!" Then the two spiders lounged at the still warm corpse, digging and tugging at it from both sides until it ripped into two halves with a sickening sound. Both halves were quickly carried off by a scuttling spider to a dark corner, leaving the altar stained with fresh blood."
As she turned, blood running down her slender naked body, the pleasure she took from the perverse and gruesome ceremony was evident in her eyes. One of the males cheered in joy, but was also visibly shaken. The sight pleased her. It was a good reminder for those males who might entertain the notion to question the authority of her faith in these difficult times.
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