A titanic spider that crawls about the darkest heart of the woods, drinks up streams, and slurps up cows and horses. Only sometimes houses. Often mistaken for a 'wandering hill', though those that see it for what it is will never mistake it or forget it. The Spider is eerily quiet considering its size, some heroes have told tales of how they have scaled the creature, to access the forest and gardens that grow upon the Spider's back.
The gardens of the Spider are a tangled mess of green and brown, studded with coloured blazes of flowers. There are many wonderful sights of all kinds, in terms of flora and fauna, including a rather singular strain of Poppy. If turned to Opium, it will induce a high unlike any other, where you somewhat dissociate from yourself and become able to see and talk to spirits that normally veil themselves from the sight of mortals. Of course, this is all within the haze of the Opium high, and if you overdose, you will dissociate so much from yourself that the Spirits will take you away from your body, never to return... Even so, most all druids covet this Poppy, and would bargain mightily for it.
The gardens are wild and beautiful, and also dangerous. They are haunted by things made of grass in the shape of men, wielding weapons like branches. Snakes like vines lurk in the long grasses, and Pine-Cone Beetles that shoot streams of thick, cloying sap. Clouds of semi-sentient pollen that choke and smother before taking root in the freshly-dead. Perhaps the greatest predator of the Gardens is a huge, ambulatory rose-bush, wandering on thorny tentacle-limbs, with a great bush-head crowned with many roses. It drinks blood through its thorns, and picks up foes in great tangled nooses of vines, the drained blood refreshing the redness of its flowers.
Upon the very crest of the spider's abdomen lies an ancient stone circle, the home of an even more ancient Nature Spirit, an Oracle of the Arts.
This stone circle is guarded by a quartet of stone gargoyles. Each have four arms, and each has the head of a different beast.
The Hawk-headed gargoyle spews forth a torrent of water.
The Eel-headed gargoyle spits balls of reeking mud.
The Heron-headed gargoyle's beak is slathered in paralysing venom.
The Weasel-headed gargoyle's breath is thick and lingering fog.
The grandest of the standing stones each bear a symbol depicting these animals, and each gargoyle will spend their time perching upon their stone.
The Oracle of the Spider is a spirit of art and beauty, dwelling powerfully in a rough, naturally formed statue of a pair of entwined lovers. The matching of the lovers is different to each viewer. The spirit is knowledgeable on all matters of the arts, of love, and of beauty. They can identify lovers at a single glance, and know how best you might go about a seduction. They can whisper secrets to make you irresistible, how to make yourself truly radiant. They know an artists works at a touch of the brushstroke, they innately know all of art that is known by any who considers themselves an artist. They can even provide unto you a great measure of artistic skill, if you give them a grand work of art in return, along with the promise that you will create something of equal beauty to the gift you gave.
At the centre of the Spider's thorax, is a pool of purest, perfect water. Off-shoots of the pool feed jagged channels that ferry water all over the Spider, even so far as to flow uphill to reach the abdomen and the ends of the legs. At the bottom of the pool is a cluster of pure white jewels, which match the clusters that make up the spider's eyes. Removing any of these jewels causes great pain to the spider, and removing enough of them will kill it eventually. Drinking from the pool temporarily grants the imbiber the ability to speak with the dead and the plants.
An amalgamy of unclean ideas and unshaped fuel. Burn it into your eyes that the electric pathways of your mind to settle in your head like worms to take root and overtake and flourish in fecund glory. Or maybe not. Its your call really. Also, go to Indexes on the right to get to stuff organised in a semi-logical way.
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