Write about a phobia that either you have, or someone else has, a person you know, a character you have created, etc. It can be an essay, a short story, or a story part.
*NOTE* While the characters Morrigain and Elvan’shlaee and Morrigain’s back story are mine to go along with the incident at the temple, the concept of the Drow, Lolth, and her creatures, Eilistraee, Sword Dancer, Drow Matron Mother Names, and Pir’Oront Tlabbar belong to Forgotten Realms.
Thanks to this exercise, this is a new addition to a story I have been writing over the years based on sessions at our gaming table, and figments of my own imagination. This is considered fanfic!
On another note… After I typed “shut your dirty whore mouth”, I almost added, “or I swear by my pretty floral bonnet I will end you.” *hangs head in shame…*
Phobia Writing Exercise
Morrigain hesitated outside Lolth’s temple. She wasn’t afraid of the combat to come; it was the fact she could hear the chattering of spiders coming from the ruined temple. A spider of Lolth had bitten her, rather, a Yochlol, when she was a small child, as the Deity insisted on marking her. The venom had made her sick, not common for a Drow, and a bright purple scar in the shape of Lolth’s holy symbol appeared on her right thigh.
Her grandmother rushed her to the temple of Eilistraee the moment she chased off the spider that had bitten her two-year-old granddaughter. Morrigain could remember the words the priestess had uttered as they removed the venom.
“Perhaps this child is she of prophecy.” A Sword Dancer whispered.
“My granddaughter? Certainly not, Lolth would have sent more than a mere spider after her if she was a threat to the old bitch,” Her grandmother had responded.
She knew the reason for the attack on her beloved granddaughter; she had become a spy for Eilistraee against Lolth unbeknownst to Matron Baenre. Lolth must have discovered her betrayal and sent a Yochlol to exact her revenge by trying to kill the little girl she cherished most.
“Indeed, Matron Mother Tlabbar, a tarrasque would be more like it.”
The priestesses looked at Morrigain and fell silent.
“There are only yochlols and a few dryders inside, Mo. I think we can take them easily.” Elvan’shlaee’s
voice brought Morrigain back to the present.
“You Sword Dancers are way too chipper this time of the morning. I am not worried about the fight; I am
worried about the creepy things with eight legs.” Morrigain replied, pulling more smoke into her mouth
from her pipe.
“I have never known you to fear anything, sister,” Elvan’shlaee looked up at her older sister that
towered above her by 8 inches. “Especially not anything your sword or chakram can reach. Certainly, the
favored daughter of the great Pir’Oront Tlabbar doesn’t suffer from arachnophob-“
“Shut your dirty whore mouth, Shlaee, I fear nothing!” Morrigain emptied her pipe onto the ground,
placing it into the purple pouch that hung from her side. She drew her two-handed sword from her back
and unclasped the latch of her chakram that hung from her side. “Let’s do this.
Morrigain strolled into the temple, ready to face her greatest and only fear head-on.