Epilogue: Spreading the Web

You're lying on your back one evening, playing dead and hoping the heroes will buy it, when a hauntingly familiar scuttling sound echoes faintly down the canyon. The sound of many chitinous legs scrabbling over rock. You reluctantly prop yourself up, searching for the source. Far above your head, clambering slowly across the rough canyon wall, is one of the foulest creatures in creation...the spider. It was one of the big ones too, though this one had an odd bronzy color. This was far beyond spider territory, their spawn tether should have **** them back into the forest if they tried to leave...which meant that this spider didn't have a spawn point. It had been spawned from a heroine...

You scuttle down the canyon walls, eager to leave the prison that had entrapped your kind for so long. The darkening shadows made it easier for you to see and you picked up the pace. A lone weed-fiend shoots a few darts at you but you ignore it: you couldn't afford such meaningless distractions. You are the eldest of the second generation: spiders without a spawn point and unbound to any particular zone. Your mother had implanted you in a surrogate heroine, where you'd developed and absorbed some of her traits along with the rest of your brood. Your bronze chitin was a similar shade to the heroine's hair and you were slightly higher level than your genetic mother.

You also had a peculiar awareness, a kind of sixth-sense when it came to sizing up heroes. Your belief is that it comes from a heroes ability to immediately identify other heroes: their class, their level, even their HP. Since you were born of a heroine, it made sense that the ability came from her. You felt no attachment to your birth mother, she was a vessel for reproduction and nothing more, though you noticed her form excited you and your brood somewhat more than the other spiders. The elder spiders saw egg implantation as only a means to an end, just as you suspected they saw you. You were awed and slightly turned on in a very non-arachnid way whenever you saw the heroine...doing anything really.

Being mounted for implantation, birthing your sisters, even just bouncing in her prison of web, you found her so...alluring. Just before you left you'd been given the task of implanting the next brood in the heroine. You'd barely slept for days with excitement. The experience had been everything you'd hoped it would be: sucking on her milk-laden tits, pumping eggs into her moaning body, watching her stomach slowly expand...You were joyful (well, as joyful as a spider could be) at the prospect of doing it again, which was exactly the mission you'd been sent on: find **** heroines and implant your brood. The noble cause of spreading spider-kind across the lands further incentivized you as the boundary came into view...