Spiderkin

Introduction

From the deepest reaches of the Umbra, beyond even the Realm of Silence, the Spiderkin have stirred once more. Thought lost to time, they were but whispers in old myth—creatures of shadow and silk, lingering at the edges of memory. Unlike their kin, they do not move in step with the great will of the Hive, their connection weaker, their thoughts more fragmented. Organizing in loose Guilds and Clans, yet preferring solitude, they have long remained an enigma even among the Fae. Their return, abrupt and unsettling, has sent ripples through the Empire of Concordia, for they emerge beneath the ancient banner of the House of Gemini—a house long thought dead until the return of the Twin Queen. Bound by oaths unseen, they now fall under her dominion and, by extension, the will of The Queen of Rats. Yet it is said she watches them with unease, for too little is known of their purpose, their numbers, or the depths of their loyalty. In the elder days, legend paints them as warriors of unparalleled cunning, standing at the first battle against the Adversary in Arcadia itself. But history is a web of truth and invention, and few can say what the Spiderkin truly are. Their resurgence is a wound in the fabric of the new order—one met with wary awe, and deeper fear.

Description

The Web Stirs: The Return of the Spiderkin From the deepest reaches of the Umbra, beyond even the Realm of Silence, something has begun to move. It is ancient. It is watching. And it has not forgotten.

The Spiderkin—creatures of shadow and silk, thought lost to the black void of time—have reemerged. Once, they stood as legend, a footnote in the great histories of the Fae. Now, they step from the abyss, and even the oldest among the Concordian Empire do not know why.

Unlike most of their kind, the Spiderkin do not flow seamlessly within the Hive. They are part of it, but only barely—thin strands of thought connecting them to the great collective will of the Fae. They are different. Alien. Their minds work in ways that others do not understand. They organize in loose Guilds and Clans, but never truly together. Their solitary nature makes them unpredictable, unknowable, and this terrifies those who rule.

Even more unsettling is the banner beneath which they now march. The House of Gemini, long thought dead, stirs once more. The return of the Twin Queen has brought her ancient soldiers with her, but how deeply does their loyalty run? The Queen of Rats—a master of shadows and deception herself—is said to watch them with unease. Though bound to her through oaths of fealty, even she does not trust them.

No one knows their numbers. No one knows their true purpose.

In the oldest myths, the Spiderkin were warriors of unparalleled cunning. It is said they stood at the very first battle against the Adversary in Arcadia, that their webs ensnared horrors no Fae dared face alone. But time twists stories into fables, and no one knows how much of this is true. If they were great warriors once, where were they during the War in the Dreaming? Why did they remain in the deepest Umbra while the world burned?

Now, as the Empire of Concordia solidifies its rule, the Spiderkin walk the land again. Their presence is a jagged wound in the order of things, a crack in the certainty of control. Common Fae whisper their names with reverence and fear, watching their many-eyed masks and silent, deliberate movements. The nobles of Concordia speak of them in hushed tones, wary of what power they might still hold.

Are they a forgotten weapon, returned to their Queen’s hand? Or something else entirely?

The web has been woven. The spiders are awake. And none can say what happens next.