#Again with Max being a deep sea creature so she's blind

[fluffyfangirl]

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #185

Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re making the snake/shrine maiden/ninja/widow Assassin of Paraiso! She’s got more jobs than a freakin’ barbie doll...

Check out her build breakdown (expect true name spoilers) below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: In Shimousa you must wait, until the dice read five or eight.

Mochizuki Chiyome is an Arcane Trickster Rogue for the regular kind of ninja trickery, plus a Fathomless Warlock to grab the kind of thing your forefather would normally have to boink a snake god to get. (That’s what happened, right? It’s been a while.)

Race and Background

Shockingly, Mochi is a Human, but Variant so we can get cool stuff. This gives her +1 Dexterity and Intelligence, as well as Religion proficiency to make her cover as a shrine maiden foolproof and the Mobile feat for when the right fool comes along. This adds 10′ to her movement speed, dashing lets her ignore difficult terrain, and you avoid opportunity attacks from creatures you’ve attacked this turn.

Magical assassins seem to be more common in D&D than their mundane counterparts, because they have their own freakin’ background! As a Volstrucker Agent, you get proficiency in Deception and Stealth. You know, for ninjaing.

Ability Scores

Dexterity is number 1. You’re a ninja, it’s not a surprise. Second is Charisma. Your snake blood doesn’t like to cooperate on good days, you’ve got to be convincing enough to make it behave. Also, there’s more ninja stuff in charisma, it’s a good skill to have. Your Intelligence comes next, ninjas don’t really have magic powers, they’re just really clever. That being said none of your spells actually use intelligence that much, so we don’t need it to be that high. Your Wisdom isn’t bad, spy networks don’t work if you can’t tell when someone’s lying, and since we’re only building the one character you’ll have to be your own spy network.

Oh yeah, the real Mochizuki ran a spy network, we’re throwing that in the build too. So we’re making a shrine maiden/snake/ninja/widow/master spy. Real simple.

Anyway. Your Constitution isn’t great, just don’t get hit and you’ll be fine. That means we’re dumping Strength. Don’t worry, you don’t really need it anyway.

Class Levels

Rogue 1: Starting off as a rogue gets you a lot of proficiencies, like Dexterity and Intelligence saves, plus four skills. Grab Acrobatics for ninjaing skills, Performance for better disguises, and Insight and Investigation for spy work. If that wasn’t enough, you get Expertise in two of those skills, doubling your proficiency bonus in Stealth and Insight. You also get a Sneak Attack if you’re attacking with a finesse weapon or a ranged weapon, and you have advantage or a friend near the target. This adds 1d6 damage to the attack once per turn. You also learn Thieves’ Cant. It’s a language.

Rogue 2: Second level rogues have a Cunning Action, which lets you dash, disengage, or hide as a bonus action. Y’know, ninja stuff.

Rogue 3: Boom! 2d6 sneak attack. Also, you’re an Arcane Trickster now. This gives you some Spells, most of which are Illusion or Enchantment, but all of which use your Intelligence to cast. Or they would, if we didn’t go the galaxy brain route and pick spells that don’t use your intelligence. You’re forced to pick up Mage Hand as one of your three cantrips, but you also get Friends to make fooling guards easier, and Prestidigitation for smaller magical tricks. On top of that, Illusory Script makes you an expert codewriter, Disguise Self takes care of your... well, your disguises (Though regular disguises are probably better since this is the one spell that actually uses your intelligence), and Fog Cloud gives you a quick and dirty smoke bomb. Speaking of Mage Hand, you also get a Mage Hand Legerdemain right out of the gate, making your mage hand extra sneaky. It can be invisibile, and you can use it to stow objects in containers carried by other creatures, steal objects from containers held by other creatures, or pick locks and disarm traps at range. Also, you only have to use your bonus action to control the hand.

Warlock 1: Bouncing over to grab your cursed Orochi blood makes you a Fathomless warlock. I know that’s a bit weird, but don’t worry, we’ll fix it in flavoring. Instead of a Tentacle of the Deep, you’re summoning a head of Orochi as a bonus action for up to a minute! Each turn you can attack for a bit of cold damage, and you can summon up to Proficiency heads per day. You also get a Gift of the Sea, giving you a swim speed of 40′ and the ability to breathe underwater. As long as you stay near the surface, you can probably get away with calling it walking on water. You also learn Pact Magic, which you cast with your Charisma. This doesn’t mix with your spell slots from rogue, but you can use warlock slots for rogue spells and vice versa. You get Eldritch Blast so you don’t have to collect your throwing knives like a chump, Minor Illusion for minor illusions, Hex for a weak Orochi’s curse, and Expeditious Retreat so you can go even faster if you wanna.

Warlock 2: Second level warlocks get Eldritch Invocations, like Devil’s Sight which lets you see in magical darkness and Armor of Shadows for free mage armor on yourself. Shrine maidens aren’t known for wearing plate mail, so this should help a bit. You also learn how to Cause Fear, frightening a creature for up to a minute if they fail their wisdom save. That means they can’t move closer to you, and they have disadvantage on attacks while they can see you.

Rogue 4: Now that we’re done with warlocking for a bit, bouncing over to rogue gets you your first Ability Score Improvement. Bump up that Charisma for stronger spells and Orochi heads. You also learn the spell Color Spray for some pocket sand at the ready whenever you want. Roll a couple dice, then blind creatures from least to most HP up to the point you rolled.

Rogue 5: Fifth level rogues get 3d6 sneak attack, and they can make an Uncanny Dodge as a reaction, halving incoming damage from an attack.

Rogue 6: At sixth level you get another round of Expertise, so double up on your Deception and Performance so you can sneak into wherever you need to go.

Rogue 7: Seventh level rogues get Evasion. It’s been a while since someone’s gotten evasion, huh? It’s a good feature though, it turns your failed dexterity saves into basically successes as far as damage goes, and successful dex saves now negate damage entirely. (Also, your sneak attack goes up to 4d6.)

Warlock 3: The Orochi isn’t quite done with you yet, so we’re heading back for a few more levels. At level three you undertake the Pact of the Talisman, letting you add 1d4 to a failed ability check Proficiency times per long rest. It’s a shame you don’t have a fancy sword like Grass Cutter, but at least it’s useful. Now that you can see in the dark though, you can cast Darkness to create a more effective smoke bomb that only you and other warlocks can see though.

Warlock 4: Use this ASI to get your Keen Mind. This adds 1 to your intelligence among other neat tricks, but the big reason we’re here is for the ability to recall information for up to a month. This will be more useful later, but it’s always nice to be brainy. You also learn the cantrip Toll the Dead for some ooky spooky necrotic damage, and Silence to perform acts of violence, in silence. Ninjas.

Warlock 5: Fifth level warlocks can cause Fear, frightening multiple creatures who fail their wisdom save. Once per long rest you can also mark a creature with a Sign of Ill Omen, casting Bestow Curse using a warlock spell slot. There’s a couple out of the box options in the PHB, but ultimately you can make up whatever you want, as long as it’s DM approved. The target also has to fail a wisdom save, and it lasts up to a minute.

Rogue 8: Use this ASI on your Dexterity for better damage and a higher AC. Turns out rogues are dexterous, who knew? Speaking of being dexterous, grab Misty Step so you can become so dexterous you literally blink out of existence and back in. Related note, dexterous no longer looks like a word.

Rogue 9: Ninth level rogues can really mess up their enemies with 5d6 damage on a sneak attack, or you can mess up enemies with a Magical Ambush. As long as you’re hidden from whatever creature you’re targeting, they have disadvantage on a spell’s saving throw. This also applies to warlock spells, making it especially useful for curses. (Also, 5d6 sneak attack)

Rogue 10: Tenth level rogues get another ASI, so bump up that Charisma again for a stronger curse. You also can cast Message to relay info over short distances, or Magic Mouth to set up information dead drops for other party members.

Rogue 11: Eleventh level rogues can deal reliable damage thanks to their 6d6 sneak attack. They also have Reliable Talent, so the lowest you can roll on a skill you’re proficient in is a 10. When you’re good at something, you’ll never fail a day in your life. You can also cast Blur to become harder to hit. Maybe it’s like, a little smoke bomb? Not my best work, I’ll admit.

Rogue 12: At twelfth level you get your last ASI, so max out that Dexterity for the best damage and defense you could hope for.

Rogue 13: Thirteenth level arcane tricksters are Versatile Tricksters, letting you spend an action to distract a nearby creature with your mage hand, giving advantage on your next attack that turn. If you don’t have extra ninjas at home, magic bought is fine. Don’t scoff at free advantage though, especially with that 7d6 sneak attack. You also learn to pull a Kotarou and can cast Enemies Abound, which makes it so one creature can’t tell friend from foe and will attack randomly if they fail an intelligence check.

Rogue 14: Your brand new Blindsense means you’ll always be able to sense other ninjas, since invisible and hidden creatures within 10′ of you are always on your radar. You also -finally- get your spy network online thanks to Clairvoyance, letting you create a sensor in any location you’re familiar with, or an obvious one you aren’t, like around a corner. For up to ten minutes, you can see or hear through that sensor as if you were there, and can even swap which sense you use at will.

Rogue 15: Your capstone isn’t particularly flashy, but Slippery Mind will help make sure you don’t get cursed more than you already are, since you now have proficiency with wisdom saves. One last thing: 8d6 sneak attack. It’s pretty good.

Pros:

With multiple kinds of magic backing up your impressive stealth skills, you come packing with plenty of ways to slip into and out of combat at will, or even better, avoid combat entirely.

Thanks to your keen mind and clairvoyance, you can spy on others and keep that information tucked away for safekeeping. Then, you can use spells like Message and Magic Mouth to get that info where you need it to go without arousing suspicion. Who knows, you might legitimately start up a spy network.

Curses are great. For your enemies, I mean, sorry. But yeah, they’re pretty effective, especially if you can start a fight with an enemy already cursed. Like, say, you sneak up to them and use Magical Ambush to make it even harder for them to avoid the spell, and that starts initiative? That’d be nice.

Cons:

Some DMs are not very flexible, and they’ll just force you into combat regardless of how much you try to avoid it. That’s really bad for you, since you’ve only got 100 HP. One stiff wind and you’re in Power Word Kill territory. Fortunately you’ve got a good AC, but still.

The one spell you have that actually uses intelligence is probably one of your most crucial, at least early on. Disguise Self not being that good kind of sucks while you’re getting set up, but eventually you’ll be good enough with a regular disguise kit it probably won’t matter.

You have a lot of utility spells, but only a couple spell slots to use them with. Long missions might be a problem if you don’t pace yourself.

[gravegroves]

Can I ask about 2 and 8 for the wip tag game?

I've already talked about 8 (search #tag game in my tags and you'll find it).

But omg thank you for asking about 2!!

2. Like a Bat Out of Hell, Indiana

Oh man, oh man. This. This right here? This is my baby. My precious. The one I wrote so self indulgently that even if no one else likes it, I LIKE IT. And I'm completely okay with that.

El and Hopper fail at closing the gate at the end of s2, Billy appears at the Byers' house just in time and so begins a mad dash across the country, trying to outrun the end of the fucking world.

Tw: death (no one we care about though)

Excerpt:

The sound of a car roaring into the driveway has Steve's heart crashing up into his throat and they all turn to watch as headlights dance across the living room walls, sharp and blinding, like a goddamn beacon of hope.

And Steve doesn't have time to think about why the deep rumbling of the engine sounds so familiar.

He moves the kids now or they die.

"Get to the car, now!" Steve screams, just as the window at the end of the hall explodes inward.

Max gets to the door first and tears out of the house, sprinting toward the high beam lights with the boys hot on her heels.

"Billy!" She screams and goddamnit she can't mean--

She reaches the car, yanks the passenger side door open and pushes the front seat forward, shoving Dustin, Mike and Lucas into the back before diving in herself, righting the front seat in a practised move just in time for Steve to jump in after her.

And yep. There he is.

Hargrove's expression would be hilarious if they weren't seconds away from being overrun by a horde of carnivorous monster dogs.

"What the fuck do you losers think you're doing?!" Billy roars, eyes bugging slightly when he recognises Steve.

"Harrington?!"

Steve grabs him by the collar and screams into his face: "Just fucking drive!" 

A loud crash has them both snapping their heads to the side just in time to watch as a hundred Demodogs or more come rushing out from behind the Byers' house, heading straight for them.

Without another word, Billy yanks the car into reverse and accelerates before hitting the breaks. Steve's stomach swoops as their momentum lets the wheels slide over the gravel to land perfectly on the road.

He grabs Billy's arm, yanks on it like it might shake some urgency into him.

"Hargrove, go!"

"Seatbelts! Get the seatbelts" Max yells at the others.

That's what she's worried about? Steve thinks, even as he reaches over his shoulder to strap himself in.

Then Billy puts the car into gear and guns it forward and they go from 0 to 70 mph in ten seconds flat, zooming down old, twisting back roads and Steve honestly can't believe that Hargrove's insane, wannabe NASCAR driving is gonna be what saves their asses tonight.

"What the hell are you doing all the way out here with my sister, huh?" Billy yells, taking his eyes off the road to look over at him and Steve might seriously have a fucking heart attack.

"Eyes on the road!" He exclaims, foot searching the footwell for a break pedal that isn't there, "For real, man? You want to do this now?!"

"Or you can get out and fucking walk, amigo," Billy snarls, swerving around another Demodog leaping for the hood of his car, "What the hell is up with these dogs?"

"Billy, stop it! Can you jus-- look out!" Max shrieks, her arm shooting between them to point straight ahead and the kids all begin yelling as the flower-in-bloom-faced ugly fuck grows larger in the windscreen at an alarming speed.

Smooth as butter, Billy avoids the gaping creature in their path, not taking his foot off the accelerator for even a second. Steve's heart beats a drum solo against his adam's apple. His fingers feel fused to the edges of the seat, holding on for dear life.

"Jesus Christ, what the fuck was that?" Billy turns to look behind him and Steve clenches his teeth so hard his jaw hurts, barely restraining himself from yanking Billy around to face forward again.

"Hargrove, I swear to God--"

"Oh god, look."

Steve turns his head the slightest amount to see Lucas pointing out of the window at the treeline to their right.

Demodogs.

Lots of them.

So many slimy, greyish bodies that the forest floor has all but disappeared and transformed into a churning sea of dark, slick oil.

More worryingly, they're all running in the same direction as the Camaro.

Fuck.

"What the…" Billy falters when he looks out of the window at the treeline, then seems to shake it off, placing his undivided attention back on the road for once.

He speeds up to pass a whole group of the beasts trying to cross to the other side, narrowly misses being cut off entirely by the mass of Demodog bodies. Steve releases a hand from the seat only to clutch at the grab handle on the door. He closes his eyes, swears he can feel his stomach fall out of his ass when the wheels on his side of the car lift into the air for half a beat.  

"Shit, we're gonna die!" Dustin wails, voice wobbly as Billy jerks the wheel again to avoid a creature charging straight for them. If the kids weren't already packed in like sardines they'd be sliding around back there, seatbelt or no. "We're definitely gonna die! This psycho is gonna kill us before the monsters do!"

Billy scowls into the rear-view mirror and grits out "Hey kid, you're welcome to get out and walk."

"You literally tried to run us off the road a week ago--"

"Not the time, Dustin!" Max snaps and shushes him.

"We need to get to the gate!" Mike blurts out, leaning forward to speak directly at Steve. Demanding. "We need to help El!"

Steve doesn't even have the faintest idea of how to begin doing any of that.

"Dude, we can't just go back there, are you crazy--" Lucas pulls him back and they continue to argue in harsh whispers.

"If you losers don't shut the fuck up, I'll crash this goddamn car just so I can take you all with me." Billy barks, knuckles white on the wheel.

"Oh my god, see! What did I tell you?" Dustin exclaims, "He's dangerous, Steve!"

Yeah, well, he's all that we've got, Steve doesn’t say. "Shut up, Dustin."

They turn into the first proper residential street and Billy misses a tree by an inch as he tries to avoid colliding with five demodogs hunched over something on the road.

Oh god, was that a body?

"Harrington, where the fuck am I going?"

Steve closes his eyes, overwhelmed and completely out of his depth. They might have been the B team, but there hadn't actually been a plan B--

"Fuck, fuck! I don't know--"

"Billy," Max pleads, voice shaky with terror, silencing them all, "My mom…" 

Billy sighs explosively before turning down a side street, barely slowing down.

"Shit."

*****

It's not just Max's mom, but Dustin's mom, too. Lucas's family. Mike's family. 

They reach Old Cherry Road first and Billy barely allows the car to come to a full stop, Demodogs further down the street are taking notice of them already, stalking forward, mouths blooming excitedly. Steve eyes them warily until a garbled oh fuck from the back seat draws his attention to the other side of the street and--

It's bad.

The porch light sets the stage for a grizzly scene at the Hargrove residence. A woman lies directly beneath it, like the opening shot to a fucked up play, her head of red hair spilling over the top step.

She's very obviously dead. Steve can see where she must have tripped on the welcome rug -- awkwardly stiff and upturned between her feet -- and he can only hope she got knocked out in the fall and didn't feel a thing that came after. There isn't much left between her head and her knees except for a dark patch of gøre.

The headless body of a man lies slumped against a truck parked in the driveway, one arm stuck through the open car door, half torn off within his jacket. Blood still running down the concrete incline, pooling in the roadside gutter.

"Oh, you Bastard," Billy spits, barely a whisper.

The longer Steve stares, the more horrifying the scene becomes.

He doesn't want Max to see this. Or Billy.

Max doesn't make a sound.

Billy slams his fist against the steering wheel a couple of times, then peels away from the curb before the Demodogs can get too close.

*****

Dustin's house is dark. There's no car in the driveway.

"I told her Mews had been seen in Loch Nora. She must still be out looking..." Dustin trails off quietly. Shellshocked.

It's almost midnight. Steve doubts she's still out looking for a cat. And if she is...

"I wanted to keep her out of the way."

No one says anything.

They drive.

*****

The Sinclair house is dark, too, no lights on except for the motion sensor activated ones over the empty carport.

Billy doesn't bother slowing down. The area is absolutely swarming with creatures already.

"It's so late. Where..." Lucas falters, scanning the houses they pass, like he made a mistake and his home will appear any minute now. "Where did they go?"

"I'm sure they're okay, man," Steve tries, but it feels flat, false, "If they're in a car they could make it out. Your mom too, Dustin."

Billy grimaces, but says nothing.

"What?" Steve demands.

"I was just here looking for Max. They were home." 

He keeps a laser focus on the road now, on avoiding the monsters spilling out onto their path, growling when he's forced to change down a gear before aggressively working his way up in speed once more, jaw clenched tight.

"You probably caught them on their way out." Steve insists.

Billy looks doubtful, but he nods anyway. Neither of them enough of an asshole to take a kid's hopes away like that.

They move on.

*****

"Let me out," Mike says, quietly. Trembling. Hands pushing against the back of Steve's seat like he'll be able to bend it out of the way through sheer force of will.

No one moves.

The front door to the Wheeler home is open, door splintered where the deadbolt held, but the wood didn't. The car is parked in the carport. All the lights are on. 

Karen Wheeler's corpse lies forgotten and half devoured on the front lawn.

In the driveway, a tiny yellow sock lies next to bloody drag marks disappearing into the grass--

Oh god...

"Let me out." 

Steve's lips move, but he can't seem to draw breath enough to produce sound..

Billy seems to shake himself out of a daze, takes a deep breath beside him. "Nah, kid."

And Mike just snaps. 

"Fuck you! Fuck you!" He screams, punching and kicking the seat in front of him.

Steve leans forward out of the seat and puts his head in his hands. 

"Let me out! LET ME OUT!" Mike shrieks, begs.

"No." Billy says again, evenly.

Mike's voice breaks on a wordless scream.

Steve wants to do his own bit of kicking and screaming, but someone needs to keep their fucking head in the game or they're all going to end up dead.

By some twisted turn of fate that someone is turning out to be Billy fucking Hargrove.

Hysterically, he remembers hearing about Billy abandoning Carla Green to walk home alone from the quarry after she'd scratched the Camaro's dashboard with her fake nails by accident.

Mike kicks the back of the seat again. Billy says nothing.

All the kids are crying, now.

Mike's screams eventually taper off into babbling sobs and Dustin does his best to comfort him through his own half-choked cries. Lucas is whispering to a sobbing Max, his own breaths hitching and heaving uncontrollably, on the edge of breaking.

Steve's eyes sting, hidden behind his hands.

He lifts his head up and glances over at Billy, still tracking the side of the road, the edge of the trees. He looks so normal that it almost throws Steve for a loop. He wants to grab Billy by the collar again. Shake him. Scream: what part of this aren't you getting?

"The fuck is going on?" Billy hisses, almost to himself and oh, right.

"Later," Steve promises, hoarsely, digs the heels of his hands into his eyes hard enough to see stars.

"You know what they are?"

"Yeah." Steve says after a great deal of swallowing past the lump in his throat.

If Hargrove's voice betrays even a hint of emotion Steve knows he's gonna fucking lose it. Luckily, the guy keeps his shit together so Steve can keep a lid on his.

"You know what kills them?" Billy continues.

"Heat," Dustin says, voice thick, "And, like, bullets."

Billy nods, "Alright, how warm are we talking?"

"They don't like warm weather or daylight, but I don't think it kills them. Weakens them, maybe. Sends them underground."

"Fire will." Steve says, pulling at his hair until it hurts, dragging himself out of foggy despair and into the present where he's needed. He accidentally runs his gaze past Karen's body and tries not to dry-heave.

Mike is still crying behind him and god fuck, they should get out of here. The kid shouldn't be seeing this.

"Where do we go?" Max whispers, like she read his mind. She sounds as lost as Steve feels.

Billy revs the engine and turns to Steve, "Any requests?"

Steve thinks about the huge empty house waiting for him, a gaping nightmare at the edge of the woods. He balks at the thought.

Where the fuck do we go?

"Just get us out of Hawkins."

[maxwell-grant]

Have you read the short story Norvell Page wrote as a wedding present for a Big Name Fan about Dick and Nita's first meeting? Any thoughts on it? My main is that Page does not go where you expect him to based on that description.

I did! Actually it was one of the first Spider stories I read. And yeah, to an extent, it's absolutely not what you'd expect from something set in The Spider's world. And on the other hand, it's absolutely what makes the most sense for these two characters. Because, yeah, Norvell Page could have done what he usually does, and written some over-the-top action where Dick and Nita happen to meet during it.

But no, that wouldn't work. Because, for all the turmoil and chaos in The Spider, for everything that he and Nita go through, there are many times when, sturdier even than Dick's resolve is their love for each other, the deep understanding and affection that carries them through hell itself time and time again.

And so, when it was time to showcase how such a romance started, Page wisely deviated from his usual narrative style, and instead told a very, very intimate and personal story, a long and extended conversation between the two, and more importantly, between Page and the reader. Between The Spider, and You, peering into The Spider through the eyes of Nita van Sloan.

I think for a start, it's an interesting coincidence that this meeting takes place on a cruise ship, and it involves Dick rescuing Nita from suicide. I say this because Margo Lane's first meeting with Lamont Cranston, in the pulps, was stated to have taken place on a cruise ship, and of course, the first time we see The Shadow in the pulps, he's rescuing Harry Vincent from suicide, and both Harry and Margo are The Shadow's main supporting characters. I'm not saying it was intentional, but it's an interesting fact. And more so because Dick doesn't really rescue Nita.

Her scarf whipped in the wind on deck, and it blinded her... and a hand touched her arm, and a voice spoke to her.

"If it's intentional, don't let me stop you," the voice said, "but you're heading straight for suicide."

Nita looked then at the stop toward which, blindly, she was going, and it was a chain barrier beyond which was the sea. And she looked at the man who had stopped her and it was Richard Wentworth. And his words had been a shock to her.

"You wouldn't try to dissuade me from suicide?" she asked.

Wentworth's brows were tilted whit a hint of mockery, but his eyes were very grave. "Every man is master of his own soul, and hence of his body," he said. "And your eyes are wide open and awake. So it would be a considered action. I'm not sure, under those circumstances, that I would have a right to meddle in another's business."

Nita said, "I think you can help me."

Wentworth shook his head. "Only you can help yourself," he said, "but it may be that someone else could help you find the way."

The whole text is a great example of how wonderfully realized of a character Nita van Sloan is in ways so unlike the typical pulp or superhero girlfriends at the time, because the text is written from her perspective, and half of the text reads like an extended character breakdown of who Nita is as a character and person. And the other half of the text is almost entirely comprised of Dick Wentworth spouting philosophy and talking in-depth about his reading of her and what's upsetting her, talking about God and fate and so on. And like so many other attempts to explore serious theological/psychological/philosophical/etc concepts explored through pulp fiction, half of it is bullshit, and half of it is fascinatingly disturbing and thought-provoking bullshit.

"Self-contempt," Wentworth's words were very quiet now. "Is second only to self-pity among the greater sins. Self-analysis is a dangersous thing. You need so much charity. And any person who is advanced enough to think about himself at all is apt to be over-stern in his judgment of himself."

He said to her, "If you don't honor youself, who will honor you?" And, a few moments later, "There is conceit in ruling others, but none in mastering yourself." And, "There is no arrogance so great as self-righteousness."

Nita clashed with him violently, "You are being self-righteous in judging me!"

Wentworth laughed. "I am speaking only truism. It is you who judge yourself, not I." He was serious, then. "My dear," he said, "I would be presumptuous to try to teach you. No man can teach another. But one who has been along that same trail would be less than a man if he failed to mark certain signposts and certain places where there is water to drink so that another, traveling that same road, may know where another struggled and what he has learned. But, as no man can travel a road for another, so no man can teach another. You must work out your own salvation."

"That sense of separation between the inner and outer self," Nita rushed on, "between yourself and the world ... while you were talking, I could almost feel that difference disappearing. The feeling is gone now, but ..."

"All progress is three steps forward and two back," Wentworth said, slowly, "and this is good because thus all ground is three-times covered and triply learned."

And I should probably clarify by this point that, it's not so much Dick Wentworth talking in this story, as it's Norvell Page himself. In fact, he admits as much in another letter he had sent to his readers that he was prone to talking philosophy by this point.

There was a time when the burden of writing just one more Spider seemed too much to undertake. (After all, the magazine is in it's ninth year!) But I never feel that way any more. I know now that the Spider actually does help people; that there are those who appreciate his idealism even though it is expressed in violence.

Especially in the last half dozen Spiders, beginning with the 100th I believe, I have tried very earnestly to teach a little of the philosophy and faith, of which we all need so much in these days.

Here's the thing about The Spider: It's not that the character is mad. Well, okay, he IS mad, I don't pull these over-the-top maniacal cartoon meme descriptions out of thin air, but that's because he lives in a batshit insane disaster horror world where there IS no sane response other than joining the carnage to overcome it. It's not just that Wentworth who is a madman. It's that Norvell Page was a mad man, and Dick Wentworth was Norvell's Page alter-ego, by the man's own admission.

Friends have informed me that I moved about the company as one in a trance: there were some who were concerned about my health, so oddly did I behave. Of course, only my body attended that occasion. My mind was entirely engrossed in Dick Wentworth's big problem - back in my study on a sheet of paper stuck in my typewriter

I did not dream that night; in the morning I restlessly paced my floor thinking, thinking, thinking. I sat down at the typewriter, stared at the words and the keys. Suddenly, as if by magic, Dick Wentworth seemed to move of his own volition. My hands raised, my fingers literally flew over the keyboard.

No matter how ridiculous it seems, I will always feel that Dick Wentworth, creature of my own fabrication, guided me through that tough scene.

No two people can live together without being influenced by each other to some extent. So constantly has Wentworth been in my mind, it is as if we were roommates - partners in everything.

Page has talked about how close of a connection he feels to the character, about many ways he's emulated his mannerisms, even some pretty embarassing anectodes where he claims to have "accidentally" used the character's "indomitable will" to scare waiters or drawing connections between The Spider's cast and real people he's met. Others who met him remarked that he talked of the "Spider" characters as though they were members of his family, or drinking companions.

Even before I got into The Spider, I had heard of rumors that he used to present or discuss stories in his office by putting on a cape and jumping from desk to desk, swinging a yard stick in his hand, and I can't find any source that confirms it, but I don't doubt it in the slightest. A lot of pulp writers had really weird lives, and Page was no exception. He was a journalist who frequently dug into his newspaper clippings for grisly stories to incorporate into narratives. I mean, just look at the dude's eyes, he's seen some shit.

When he was 3, his mother fell down a manhole while they were walking down a Chicago sidewalk. Norvell, terrified, thought she had dissappeared and never quite got over the experience.

When he was a little older, according to some family members, his parents had tickets for the Titanic and escaped disaster when Norvell begged them to cancel the trip for reasons unknown.

Norvell again played a hand in the family's escaping disaster when, one Christmas the family home caught on fire. Candles on the tree had been left burning. He quite arguably saved everyone's life. Waking first, he threw his mattress out of his window, grabbed his infant brother and sister and ran screaming through the hall as he went back to jump to safety. His screams woke his parents who then jumped to the mattress themselves.

Norvell lied about his age and experience to the Norfolk "Observer", claiming to have been writing for Richmond's "Times Dispatch" and was hired there.

His father managed Thomas Edison & Hugo Wurlitzer's ad accounts, and had always encouraged him to write, envisioning him as another Poe, whom his Great-Uncle had worked with as an editor

It is rumored that, in NYC, while at the "World Telegram", he became involved in fellow editor Varion Fry's effort to rescue artists and scientists from occupied Europe. President of the American Fiction Guild, he edited their newsletter for some time. Among his closest friends were fellow writers Ted Tinsley and L. Ron Hubbard and Surrealist painter Max Ernst.

WRITER'S REVIEW 35.08: Norvell W. Page, whose bloodthirsty Spider novels would do justice to Ghengis Khan, demonstrated his bloodlust the other day by accidentally killing a sparrow.

He wrote until 1943, when he abruptly stopped without warning. He dissappeared, for all intents and purposes, from both New York, the arts world and the pulp world for good.

His wife of 20 years, Audrey, had died and this, along with the U.S. involvment in WWII, led to his returning to VA where he would go on to be an intelligence worker in the Truman, Kennedy and Eisenhower Administrations.

He died suddenly of a heart attack in August of 1961.

Surviving family members do not know where he is buried.

I think this is a story that Page might have told differently had he written it earlier in his career, before he got tired, before he underwent his depression and loss of weight that caused him to briefly stop writing pulps all together, in a time period before the World War had cast an oppressive miasma on the world. In a time period where most of the horrifying nightmares he infused into the stories were really just that, nightmares, that he didn't live long enough to see turn into prophecies.

Because that's another thing about The Spider that makes the character more than just a batshit vigilante: As over-the-top as the stories were, a lot of them also inevitably turned out to predict some form of catastrophe in real life.

Written with an eye to the horrors festering in Germany at the time, The Mayor of Hell now reads as an infernal vision of the Homeland Security Act.

The poisoned products found in The Red Death Rain and The Pain Emperor call to mind the Tylenol killings of the summer of 1982, and the hundreds of poisoned products cases that followed.

Bio-terrorism plays large in the Spider mythos, with bubonic plague in Wings of the Black Death, rabies in The Mad Horde, and cholera in The Cholera King foreshadowing the Anthrax scare of 2001. The same could be said of the terror gases from Kingdom of Doom and Green Globes of Death and the nerve gas attack in the Tokyo subways in March of 1995.

Masters of the Death Madness unfolds as a nightmare meditation upon suicide, which has become one of the principal weapons of modern terrorists. One scene involves suicide bombers.

Another scene chillingly presages the Jonestown massacre of 1978: a grand procession lines up to drink from a bowl of poisoned wine while surrounding gunmen pick off anyone who refuses to drink.

The modern reader will recognize the psychological and sociological effects of a citizenry living under the threat of terrorism, so chillingly evoked by Page: the grating loss of safety, the imminent threats lurking in familiar objects, the way security can no longer be taken for granted, the kind of skittishness that empties a building at the first sign of an unknown white powder.

The eeriest of all the modern terrorist parallels appears in a novel called The City Destroyer, originally published in 1936. It features a set piece involving the collapse of a fictitious gigantic building, supposedly the tallest in New York City, called “The Sky Building.” When it fell, it wiped out five city blocks and claimed 1,000 lives. And perhaps it’s worth noting a further parallel that occurred in the 1970’s, when Pocket Books tried to revive the Spider; they repackaged him in a paperback series, striving for an image of what was then cool and thrusting Richard Wentworth into a contemporary setting.

When Pocket Books reprinted and updated The City Destroyer in 1975, the collapse of the Sky Building was replaced with the collapse of the World Trade Center - Stuart Hopen's essay on The Spider

Regardless of how much reality Page was infusing into his stories (because, again, he took a lot of his material from newspapers) or how much he foresaw intentionally or not, writing The Spider definitely took it's toll on him, and as the magazine neared it's final stretch with him on the helm, certain parts did began taking a more philosophical or religious tone, as more of Page's own beliefs, more of Page's attempts to use it as a vehicle to do good, began to bleed through the page.

And ultimately I think that's also what the story of Dick and Nita's first meeting is about, sort of an extended analysis not just of Nita, who Page himself said was a character he conceived as "the epitome of womanhood" and everything he thought admirable about it, but also of Wentworth's own character, and the things Page wanted to get through in his time.

Religion crept deeper into the series with each succeeding year. By all accounts, Norvell Page was a man of deep faith and spirituality who just happened to be writing the exploits of a hero whose idea of mercy was a bullet in the brain instead of the stomach.

In the 100th novel, Death and The Spider, Wentworth battles Death itself - or so it seems - and on Christmas Eve, he is shot so badly while protecting the President from assassination that everyone believes he's dead - including himself.

Dead or not, he forces himself to fight on, sustained only by reciting the 23rd Psalm over and over again.

Nita laughed and accepted a cigarette. "I don't know how to thank you."

"Don't," Wentworth's voice was sharp. "I told you I am only a channel. Don't confuse me with the Source."

It stopped words on Nita's lips, and it gave here a new respect and a new and sudden attitude toward this man beside her, this man who could laugh and jest with everyone about him, and who could teach like a very oracle ... and who carried about him such a sense of dedication to high purpose. He might seem apart from the world, but he was utterly and completely of it.

Nita said, half-laughing, half-serious, "May I like you? And may I admire your ... adjustment?"

"Don't envy my adjustment," he grinned at her. "Have one yourself." He snapped flame to her cigarette with his lighter, and his lean, strong hand was steady and sure as his eyes, as his voice. He was speaking to her but he was looking at the lighter. "I have found my mission," he said quietly.

[writing-the-end]

Loving LoL so far and was curious if you could give a complete list of every hermit and their magical affinity or if there was one somewhere ^^

So @theguardiansofredland is the genius that came up with all this but was too lazy to answer this himself so here’s what he copied and pasted to me. First failing in discord and then google docs. We share one braincell.

Check under the cut!

Wizards and their powers

Xisuma: Void magic. A catch all destruction magic. Can create small black holes that can suck up and destroy most anything. He can even specify what can get sucked into it. That way he doesn’t end up killing his friends.

EX: Supernova magic. Able to create light and giant bursts of hot plasma and gas. Like a sun but more light. Also can use more light based magic. Like creating a shield of plasma balls around him so whatever touches it will get hurt. Or can send out little homing missile balls of light.

TFC: Mineral Magic. By touching or ingesting metal or crystal he can gain different powers based off what the mineral is. For example Lapis lazuli can give him water breathing and malachite can give him water/storm magic. However these only have a max limit of an hour before he has to touch a charged crystal or metal again. He can charge crystals and metals in the moon light

Joe: Poetry magic. An inscription magic. He can make spells or summon creatures by making poems. The longer the poem the more powerful the spell. However what gives it true power and strength is the passion poured into the poem. He has to physically write the poem on paper for the spells to actually be cast

False: Blacksmith magic. Anything that can be made in a forge she can summon and control. She can also summon liquid, molten metal and burn people. And can heat the metal of the things she summons. The more things she summons the more energy it takes.

Stress: Ice magic. Can make and create anything out of ice. Even living statues of ice that can fight for her. Also can summon icy winds and snow. Can frost over the floor to make it ice, and create huge ice sculptures and icicles.  She herself however is not immune to the cold. And enough fire can easily put her power to shame.

Cleo: Underworld magic. Has control of ghosts, ghouls, skeletons, the undead, and anything pertaining to the underworld. Can make things rapidly decay and die if she so chooses. But she has to touch them in order to do it. She can release a terrifying scream that paralyzes any who hears it for a few seconds. Up to a max of 1 minute. However it does mean everyone, even allies.

Zed: Shepherd magic. Basically like the pied piper. Can have any animal or creature aid him Disney princess style. He can also have them fight for him like Pokémon. This is all creatures, even the mythical ones. He can even use his magic to control people. However this takes a lot of energy.

Tango: Hellbound magic. He can summon demons and other beings from hell. But his main thing is calling upon the power of the demons and can transform into something like a demon. With increased power, new abilities and power, but most importantly (to him) wings that let him fly and fire magic.

Impulse: Detonation magic. Explosions motherfucker. He make things go boom. Can create a myriad of bombs and explosives. He can also create explosions from his hands. Charging explosions and then letting them go boom right when he needs them to. However it is limited to his hands. But with this powers he can propel himself forward and up and all over the place. Launching himself through the air. He can however run out of juice very easily and fast. It’s like sprinting at full speed. You can practice to do it for longer but it still wears you the fuck out. If he gets too drained he can end up passing out or throwing up.

Cub: Portal magic. Can create portals to other places. (Like wormholes) Can even jump dimensions with enough studying. However the longer the distance the more power used. He needs to concentrate or else the portal will end up someplace random.

Scar: Terraforming magic. Can manipulate any element and thing to his whim. He can make mountains out of molehills, and change and terraform anything. But he really is only good at terraforming Earth, Flora, and Water on a large scale.

Doc: Puppeteer magic. He can puppet/posses creatures and objects. It’s like Zedaph’s but not as limited. And it’s powerful. Able to control people and things like machines. He can even give them buffs and powers. Even see through their eyes and control them like a first person video game. However this leaves him standing in a trance wherever his true body is. Leaving him open to attacks. And for the people he’s puppeting, he has to have line of sight on them.

Ren: Imagination magic. Can make up spells and create anything using his imagination. Oh you want a water bottle? He’ll just summon one with his mind creativity. His most powerful ability however is to copy and use another person’s magic. He can only use it for about an hour before it disappears. And he has to make contact with the person he wants to copy. He can do this by touching them or gaining a small bit of them. Like a hair, a piece of their clothing. As long as it has come into contact with the person he can use it. However he has to use it carefully and not too much or else it can backfire bad. He has Wolf ears and a tail cause he copied someone with werewolf magic but he performed the spell wrong. But instead of starting over he pushed on with the botched spell. And now his canine parts are a consequence of that.

Jevin: Slime magic. Can create warriors of jelly to fight for him (like lapis does with creating warriors out of water) as well as create walls made out of slime. Or slow down people by shooting it at their feet. He can use extra sticky slime to stick people or objects to walls and surfaces. But other than the sticky slime, the slime can be easily destroyed. Having the consistency of Jello

Keralis: Insect magic. Can have abilities of insects! Giant moth wings, venom, spider legs, able to have ant strength (like lifting 10 times his own body weight). However he can only use the powers if he eats the insect. So you’ll see him just drinking mango and moth smoothies and nomming on baked crickets.

Bdubs: Plant magic. Able to grow, control and take on the abilities of plants and fungi. He can even turn his limbs into vines and tree branches. The bigger sized and more plentiful amount of plants take a more concentration. And plants are not immune to fire or blades. And if the plants are coming from bdubs’ body, if they get cut or burned it hurts him. The plants sprouting from his body acting like extra limbs.

Iskall: Radiation/Nuclear magic. Can create a nuclear substance (iskallium) that can burn through things like acid or thermite. Can also channel this into bolts of radioactive lightning or fire. He can’t overdo it tho. He’ll end up getting weaker and even at points be paralyzed for a good bit if he uses too much energy/magic

Mumbo: Redstone and Electricity magic. A rare thing to have 2 types of magic. But he has it. He can create almost anything out of redstone (both animated and statue like Stress) and can use it as a conductor for his electricity. But he has poor control over his magic. Going into magic surges where his magic goes out of control. If he gets more worked up or overwhelmed the problem only gets worse. 

Grian: Sky Angel Magic. One of the rarest magic in the world. He has extremely powerful wind and storm magic. Summoning storms and creating blades that shred through everything. But he also has tremendous healing abilities. Able to make people feel energized again or physically heal their wounds. He can sprout wings that allow him to fly and he can create currents under his wings so he goes even faster. A last ditch power surge is his archangel mode. Gaining a boost in power and radiating blinding light from himself. It’s like looking at the sun. His powers are boosted and he gains light magic. However afterwards it leaves him completely drained and he is usually asleep for a few days. Grian is also very fragile. A glass canon if you will.

Etho: Shadow magic. Can slip and disappear into the shadows. Can use the shadows around him to create temporary weapons and diversions/illusions. With enough power he can even turn his physical body into shadows, making it hard to strike him. However, shadows need light. And he is powerless in darkness.

xB: Whirlpool magic! Can create whirlpools and small typhoons. To either harm or suck in unsuspecting people and ships. He has the basic Kipling abilities of water bending (I couldn’t think of a better explanation). But as a deep water Kipling, his eyes are very sensitive to light. At night he glows brighter than a sea lantern. Sharp claws and teeth allow him to draw in prey.

Beef: Taurus magic. Able to use the powers of the mythical bull as well as transform into it. He can also transform into more powerful beasts. However he needs to keep his emotions in check or else he’ll lose control of himself and become full beast, losing sentience and will. It takes a while for him to return. His kind nature conflicts with his magic, making it hard to stay in control when using lots of magic