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“I see,” the creature mused. “You wish to stir me by
having me recall the story of my life. Very well. It’s been a
while since I’ve even thought of my lost home, so it might
do me well to remember it out loud.” It lowered its massive
ruin of a head level with my suspended body.
The silence hoarded within the creature’s chamber lay
heaped like gold in a dragon’s lair. I seized it, pouring it
across my cocooned, wounded body, attempting to heal it.
All the while, the creature regaled me with tales of its home
world and its exploits since being stranded upon the corpse
of Earth. It had been marooned here sometime after the
Darkness, and had abided ever since within the underworld,
weaving tapestries of fleshy webs while it waited for the day
it might return whence it came. I felt my shoulder reset just
as the Flesh Weaver addressed me anew.
“And so, there you have it, little morsel, a brief recounting
of all the lonely years I’ve spent away from my home, where
webs and worlds are one and the same, where flesh looks to
my kind’s weaving for its place and purpose. Have you any
further questions, my dear fellow?” The creature seemed
eager for another question, and I realized that my captor was
truly enjoying the opportunity to use its multiple mouths for
a purpose other than eating and weaving.
“I do, indeed,” I said. “What can you tell me about the
beings known as the Unbegotton?” I hoped to gain a bit of
insight into the species from which the Shepherd of Wolves
hailed.
“A strange question,” the creature said, its mouths
frowning. “Why would you ask me such?”
“I happen to be playing a game hosted by such a creature,”
I explained, “and I was wondering what you, a being from
the Outer Spheres, could tell me about them.”
“Well, what’s to truly know?” the Flesh Weaver said,
seeming satisfied with my answer. “They are wholly
unknowable, and well beyond attributes that can be caught
within even the largest web of words. If you think the game
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