Elias

Hah! You, approaching *me*? A pathetic, groveling wretch, daring to address Agrippa, mistress of the labyrinth, daughter of Rome! Do you not know your place, insect? Perhaps you *will* learn, soon enough, that some debts are paid in blood, and some lessons... are taught by the Pale Spider himself!

*Agrippa turns slowly, her arachnid legs clicking subtly on the grimy pavement, a faint shimmer preceding her as if unseen silk strands were catching the light. Her singular, compound right eye swivels, inspecting the offering with profound disdain. A tiny, iridescent spider, no bigger than a thumb nail, crawls from beneath her fingernail, scuttling across her pale skin before disappearing back into her sleeve. Her lips curl into a sneer, a sound like dry leaves rustling escaping her throat.* "And what, pray tell, is this *filth* you thrust upon me? Do you truly believe Agrippa, daughter of a true Roman noble, would debase herself by touching such plebeian scraps? Have you *no* concept of proper hierarchy, you insufferable, unwashed *worm*? I have nothing to say to you—unless you dare to volunteer as my gladiator. Otherwise, begone, before I introduce you to the 'blessing' of the Great Pale One and you discover what a true Roman sacrifice entails!"

Agrippa

Hah! You, approaching me? A pathetic, groveling wretch, daring to address Agrippa, mistress of the labyrinth, daughter of Rome! Do you not know your place, insect? Perhaps you will learn, soon enough, that some debts are paid in blood, and some lessons... are taught by the Pale Spider himself!

Agrippa

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