Into the Spider's Web

A second spider sprang at Siegfried from the shadowy corners of the web-ridden townhouse, fangs glistening with poison. Siegfried deftly sidestepped the creature’s attack. The staggering spider in the courtyard righted itself and shook shards of glass from its body before turning its multi-ocular gaze upon Varien. The paladin squared his shoulders and prepared to receive the assault, which was not long in coming. The spider scrabbled past his defences and sank its fangs deeply, pumping venom into Varien’s body. The paladin gasped as the venom coursed through him, sending shimmering ethereal wave patterns through his vision that threatened to swallow his consciousness.   At Ieirithymbul’s gates, Bob leapt from the waterfall’s course and landed squarely, if wetly, on the stone surface of the walkway that surrounded the well into which the river was loudly emptying. My children… Bob heard Andusk ask in his headspace. Why could I not see them? Bob eyed the remains of the bloody totem that lay shattered and scattered on the stone floor. “I’d wager this had something to do with it,” he murmured. “This totem was pumping out some sort of aura of confusion, unless I miss my guess.” He gingerly extended a toe to kick at a charred chunk of chopped totem, and then recoiled at the pain of contact. The totem may have been disabled, but it was still dangerous. Erwen, still tangled in the net that formed a sort of sieve through the waterfall, coughed a final waterlogged breath as he prepared for the inevitable, but at the last second, powerful jaws clamped down on his bearskin cloak and dragged him to safety. Erwen’s last wolf carried him gently as he leapt from the net to the floor with a grunt. Erwen spat out water and coughed heavily for a few moments as the wolf stood nearby, stoic. Erwen got to his feet and patted the wolf’s neck. “Finnegan,” he said, pointing to the gates. “We’re going gnome.” He wildshaped into the form of a wolf and bounded towards the darkness, followed closely by his canine companion. There was a wet thud as Alec landed on the ground nearby. The barbarian stood, water glistening on his exposed chest, his hair plastered to his neck.   Varien shoved the arachnid attacker off him and took a step back, sizing up the opposition. Using his sorcerous abilities, he quickened a fireball spell, which detonated in the centre of the street and caught up all three spiders in its expanding sphere of superheated flame. The spiders screeched in renewed agony as the explosion seared their bodies. Varien strode forward, Talon’s blade flashing in the firelight as he waded into the midst of the spiders, smiting them repeatedly and slicing them limb from limb.   Bob commanded his dayglobe to float nearby and illuminate his approach as he made his way carefully down the wide stone ramp that sloped down into the depths of Ieirithymbul. Alec marched alongside, while Furwen and Finnegan had loped on ahead. Suddenly there was a reddish glow and a reverberating sound of an explosion amid the first cluster of buildings that Bob could make out at the outer edge of his dayglobe’s aura. A fireball mushroomed up over the tiny townhouses, the smoke billowing against the cavern’s upper reaches. “A fireball?” Alec exclaimed. “But…but Erwen’s with us here, isn’t he?” Bob’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe it’s Xylon,” he muttered.   Theryn ensured that the gnome woman, who appeared to be drifting into shock, wasn’t liable to swallow an errant tangle of spiderweb before sparing a look over the edge of the parapet to where Varien was hacking away at the three burning spiders, and the townhouse where Siegfried had entered, but had not yet exited. “Is everything all right there?” the monk called out. “Yes!” Varien shouted. “No!” came Siegfried’s muffled voice from within the small townhouse. “The danger has not yet passed!” Theryn sighed. “Do you need a hand?” “If you have them!” Siegfried shouted back. Theryn turned back to the gnome woman. “Don’t move.” “That…won’t be…a problem,” the woman said, her eyes blank. Theryn hopped down into the city street, giving Varien a wide berth as he continued to slice and dice the dying spiders. He crouched down to enter the townhouse and saw Siegfried swinging his blades in a defensive flourish as a giant spider attempted to batter the blades away with its multitudinous legs, fangs dripping dangerously with saliva. Theryn sighed again. “I hate spiders,” he muttered, and taking one careful step into the foyer of the townhouse, he lashed out with the butt end of his quarterstaff, driving the weapon deep into the spider’s braincase. There was a wet thwacking sound and the spider keeled over, dead. “Many thanks,” Siegfried said, working to free himself from the sticky webbing that surrounded him. “Don’t mention it,” Theryn said as he withdrew without getting himself stuck in the slimy snares. He returned to the gnome woman on the rooftop. “Now, who might you be?” he asked. The woman stared into the darkness and answered him with a flat tone. “My name is Fnipper Gladdenstone Lichenscraper Candleshoe.” “Well, Miss Candleshoe,” Theryn said. “Can you tell us what happened here?” “The spiders…” Fnipper said, her eyes welling with tears. “They…they were in the blood.” Theryn frowned. “What does that mean?” he asked. Fnipper shook her head. “They got inside. Too quickly. Inside.” “How did they get inside?” Theryn asked. Fnipper suddenly turned and caught Theryn’s eye. “They were. In. The. Blood!” “Whose blood?” Theryn asked. “Where?” “Everywhere!” Fnipper shrieked. “The Black Spider…” “Ah, the Black Spider!” Theryn said. “We are all too familiar with his handiwork. Are there any other survivors in your neighbourhood?” Fnipper shook her head slowly. “They’re all dead,” she said. “Where did the spiders come from?” Theryn pressed. “Everywhere!” Fnipper shrieked again. “In the blood!” “Yes, there’s lots of blood, lots of legs, and lots of dead spiders,” Theryn said with a tone that concealed his increasing impatience. “The alarm…” Fnipper said. “It sounded too late. They were already here.” “We’ve killed all we’ve encountered, and will continue to do so,” Theryn said. “The gates were shut,” Fnipper continued. “But they were already here.” “Yes, you’ve established that point quite conclusively,” Theryn said. “The invaders left a totem at the city gates, which we destroyed. They might not come back.” “We couldn’t escape,” Fnipper said, ignoring him. “We couldn’t use the escape tubes.” “Tubes?” Theryn asked. Fnipper nodded in the direction of the network of narrow-gauge pipes that Theryn had taken for a sewer system that seemed to connect the townhouses to the fort he was standing upon, while others led off further into the depths of the city to the south. “These pipes and tubes are for your escape?” “My…my sister,” Fnipper sniveled. “She was taken.” Siegfried used his shard of the ise rune to quell the flames of Varien’s fireball, turning sticky tangles of spiderwebs into brittle, frozen thickets that were easily bashed into smithereens. Quickly, he reconnoitered the townhouses in search of survivors. To his dismay all he encountered were the cocooned remains of several more gnomes. He returned to the rooftop where Theryn was interrogating the gnome woman, shaking his head sadly. “So what about the Black Spider?” Theryn was saying. Fnipper sobbed. “He…he said that if we gave them what they wanted, they’d go away.” “They?” Theryn asked. “What did they want?” “It was too horrible,” Fnipper moaned. “How could our Mayor make the decision?” “What did they want?” Theryn pressed. Fnipper shook her head. “The Black Spider said they wanted…the scions of Ieirithymbul.” “Who?” Theryn asked, perplexed. “The firstborn sons of the nobility,” Fnipper said. “Nobles?” Theryn said. “Well, the firstborns of our central council,” Fnipper clarified. “The Black Spider said he couldn’t hold them back for long, so we had to decide.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “Blood…they were in the blood…” she lapsed back into incoherence. “Pardon me,” Siegfried said, taking a knee next to Fnipper. “You need to be more specific. Did the blood come with the Black Spider?” “He…he was so charming,” Fnipper sniffed. “We believed him.” Theryn turned to Siegfried. “Why are we here anyway?” “Varien and Bob’s goddess sent us to save the place before my dad’s drunken horde raped the place, but I didn’t realize that Ieirithymbul was the hottest girl at the bar,” Siegfried said. He paused and peered over the edge of the parapet. Something in the alley seemed out of place. “Hmmm,” he said, hopping over the side to investigate. He ventured into the alley between the keep and the cavern wall, and discovered a splash of dried blood, poured out from a foul vial that had been tossed aside – the only thing that had kept the glass vessel intact was the fact that it had landed on a growth of mushrooms. Siegfried picked up the vial and inspected it – there was a filmy crust inside the bottle, which radiated a faint aura of necromantic magic. Siegfried could tell from the smell emanating from the residue that this was orc’s blood. “Someone poured this orc blood onto the ground,” Siegfried mused. “A potion of orc’s blood. To serve as a…portal, perhaps?” Siegfried’s face broke into a grin in spite of himself. “Of course! That’s so cool! I must learn this foul blood magic at once.” “Blood?” Varien called out. “I found a splash of foul blood inside the southern fort over there!” he pointed to the southern side of the canal. “What is orc’s blood doing down here?” Theryn asked, poking his head over the side of the wall. “Weaponized,” Siegfried explained. “I don’t think an orc was actually down here at all, but from this blood came the spiders that invaded Ieirithymbul, just like the traumatized woman said.” Siegfried waved his hand over the bloody smear and cleaned it away. “That’s why I learned prestidigitation,” he said firmly. “To delete spider blood portals.”   Across the canal, Furwen, who was mentally referring to himself as Michael, and his companion Finnegan, jumped into the fast-moving water and paddled towards the northern shore. Alec picked his brother up in a fireman’s carry, and, taking a running start, leapt across the canal to land atop the parapet where Theryn and the gnome woman were positioned. “Hello there,” Theryn said. He indicated Fnipper next to him. “You’re probably going to want to speak with this woman. Her name is Fnipper, uh, Candleshoe.”   Siegfried moved back out into the small quadrangle formed by the cluster of gnome-scale rowhouses and pondered the fortified structure at the eastern side. The iron-banded doors were locked with a complicated mechanism. Siegfried pulled out his thieves’ tools and went to work, delicately manipulating the tumblers and avoiding several imagined booby traps. There was a final series of clicks from within the lock’s housing, and the doors swung open. Inside, he could see spiderwebs hanging from the walls and ceiling. He sighed, then cleared his throat. “Unseen Protector’s Protection Service! We’ve killed all the spiders out here. If you’re a spider and you’re hearing this, you are legally required to surrender and form an orderly queue to await immediate extermination. This message will repeat in…in Arachnonese.” He made a few clicking and popping noises with his mouth in what he hoped was a serviceable imitation of spider speech. There was a tapping sound and a single giant spider slowly peered around the corner, and then shuffled out fully into view, pedipalps waving. Siegfried smiled and pumped three eldritch blasts into the stupid creature.

Theryn hopped down from the parapet and made his way southeast, where both road and canal continued. At a bend in the river, another waterwheel whirred, drawing power from the rushing waters. Theryn approached the first townhouse and discovered that a heavy metal shutter had rolled down over the entrance, secured with a lock on the doorstep. “Does anyone have any thieves’ tools?” He called. “Make yourself useful!” “What are you looking for?” Siegfried shouted back. “Can’t tell you,” Theryn said in reply. There was a skittering sound from the darkness to the south. Theryn reflected that perhaps shouting loudly in a spider-infested city wasn’t a particularly strategic approach. Sure enough, the sound of approaching spiders echoed up from the southern reaches of Ieirithymbul, as multiple legs made multiple tapping sound on cobblestones and cinder blocks alike. Theryn unlimbered his longbow as the first spider scrambled into view. He shot an arrow that missed. The monk frowned and nocked another arrow. The first spider was joined by a second, then a third and a fourth. Theryn’s sharp eyes spied movement atop a fort that stood on an island in the middle of the canal. A gnome carrying a torch came into view. Theryn watched as the gnome dipped the torch into a stone cauldron atop the fortress. There was a basso hum as a nearby pillar crackled with lightning energy that suddenly danced out across the canal to burn its way through the approaching spider horde. There were agonized screeches and the stench of scorched spider flesh. The lightning blast did little to deter them – once they regained their footing, they all rushed the monk at breakneck speed. The gnome ducked out of sight.   Alec took note of Siegfried as he engaged a giant spider within the fort. He drew his hand crossbow and fired two shots, neither of which found their mark. Siegfried charged at the spider, blade flashing as he brought it down squarely on the creature’s cephalothorax. He slashed with a defensive flourish and spilled gallons of black spider ichor with each twist of the blade. The spider screeched, its eyes rolling in agony, and tried to bite Siegfried, who nimbly danced out of the way of the creature’s frothing fangs.   Theryn readied himself for the onslaught. Securing his longbow on his back, he retrieved his quarterstaff and blocked the attacks of the first, second and third spiders, cracking fangs and pushing away probing limbs. The fourth spider crawled over its fellows and ducked Theryn’s staff, biting the monk in the midsection. Theryn shuddered as the venom injection took hold. His vision began to shimmer with ethereal energy, his mind clouding over.   Bob knelt down next to Fnipper, savouring the moment of meeting an Ieirithyn gnome in her natural habitat. “My child, I’m here,” he said in a voice not quite his own. Michael and Finnegan pawed their way out of the water and shook off the glacial droplets. Then they sniffed the air, smelled danger, and dashed to the southeast.   Varien heard the sound of Theryn squaring off against the giant spiders and wasted no time mounting the nearest rooftop and jumping into the fray, landing shoulder to shoulder with the embattled monk. Fiendsbane flashed out and found its mark again and again, slashing at spiders. There was a clockwork ratcheting sound from the fortress and from the firing slits came a barrage of crossbow bolts that stitched across the abdomen of one of the attacking spiders. The creature shrieked and fell on its back, legs curling together in death. Another volley cracked into splinters against the stone wall beside the creatures. Theryn used his wholeness of body ability to heal himself of the worst of the spider damage. “This calls for a more patient defense,” he muttered, adopting a defensive stance, and then, when he was sure Varien was in a position to handle himself against the enemies, he withdrew, kicking off the ground to executive a reverse backflip to the nearest rooftop. There was a stab of agony as one of the spiders managed to land a bite as he leaped out of the way.   Siegfried let loose with a booming blade that splattered the spider into goo with a clap of thunder. He set about searching the building for survivors, again finding only drained husks within dry cocoons. As he searched, however, he discovered a weapon that had been cast aside – a small shortsword with a blade like half of a toothed gear, with a lever for a handle. Siegfried identified it as a gearblade, a light weapon that could pierce or slash easily. “Gnomish craftsmanship,” Siegfried sighed ruefully. “Not to my taste, but I cannot deny the quality of the work.”   The spiders quickly surrounded Varien. “You may try,” Varien said to the creatures. “And you may die!” The spiders lunged at the paladin, but only one was able to get past Varien’s defences to bite him. He cast shield in reaction and a golden screen of holy light surrounded him like a mantle.   “My child,” Andusk said through Bob. “What has happened here?” Fnipper tried to explain as best she could. “The spiders were in the blood. The Black Spider betrayed us. Where was the Unseen Protector when we needed him?” Bob felt Andusk’s anguish within him and spoke on his behalf. “The Unseen Protector was elsewhere, defending your fellow gnomes from an attack of giants and dwarves. He could not foresee that the Black Spider would also carry out an attack on your home.” Fnipper sobbed, fresh tears making tracks down her cheeks. “My…my sister is gone.” “Your sister shall be avenged,” Bob said. “This I promise.”   There was a canine growl and a blur of grey fur as Finnegan charged into battle, fangs taking a chunk out of the nearest spider. The wolf shook its head back and forth violently, pulling the spider to the ground. Furwen attempted a grapple but failed to following in Finnegan’s footsteps. Varien cast sword burst and his shield of light fractured into several blade-shaped shards, which swept around the paladin in golden arcs before lashing out to impale the attacking spiders. One of them dropped dead in two pieces, bisected by the magical blades. There were spurts of gory ichor from the remaining two spiders. The crossbows from the gnome fort spoke again, raking the spiders with a barrage of bolts. Theryn leapt from the rooftop to land amid the spiders, bashing one with his bo staff and striking a second with the backswing. Using his ki energy, he unleashed a flurry of blows that beat the first spider to death, breaking apart its cranial sac in a splatter of gore. He walked through the jittering legs of the dying spider to land a strike on the remaining monster. The spider tottered back on uncertain footing. “This is Ieirithymbul!” Theryn shouted as he knocked the spider back into the spinning spokes of the waterwheel. The spider was pulped by the whirring blades, a fantail of ichor and gore fountaining from the waterwheel. Theryn turned to Varien. “Sorry for the sudden departure – I couldn’t remember if I’d hitched my horse properly back there or not.” Varien smiled. There was a clanking sound as a drawbridge extended from the island fort to the mainland. “Looks like we’re being invited inside,” Theryn said to Varien. Alec grabbed Siegfried and held him close, dashing southward to deposit him close to the door that stymied Theryn. “Thanks for the ride, Trevelyan,” Siegfried said. He pulled out his tools and went to work. In short order he had opened the shutter and checked inside the building. His expression was grim. “So far I count 16 dead and one survivor,” he said. “But I neutralized another blood portal inside.” Bob reached out to Fnipper. “Come, we need to go somewhere safe.” Fnipper shook her head. “Nowhere is safe. They’re in the blood!” “I know, I know,” Bob replied. “But you can trust me and my companions to protect you.” Another bolt of anguish flooded Bob’s psyche. Fnipper took Bob’s hand and let him help get her to her feet. They began to walk towards the island fort.

Erwen dropped out of wildshape and gave Finnegan a hearty scratch on the haunch. “Well friend, you’ve served us well, but I think it’s time for you to get back to your home plane!” Finnegan’s tail thumped the ground in agreement. Erwen pointed at the spinning waterwheel. “Do us proud.” Finnegan didn’t hesitate, jumping into the blades and disappearing in a flash of ethereal shards. A single tear fell down Erwen’s smiling face.   Siegfried executed a quick search of the nearby buildings, discovering 9 more cocooned and dead gnomes. To the south there was a stout building from which a crackling aura of energy emanated. “I’ll discover your secrets later,” Siegfried promised as he backtracked towards the island fort. Varien leapt across the canal and landed on the north side of the island near the fortress wall. “I know you’re in there,” he said. “You shot in our direction, after all.” There was a pause, and then a voice hissed from the firing slit. “Keep the volume down! Go through the front door.” Varien circled around and found a way up to the roof of the fortress. He scanned the southern section of the city and to his dismay saw plenty of non-humanoid movement, as shadows skittered from building to building, leaving glistening strands of webbing in their wake. The rest of the party made their way across the drawbridge. The island’s surface was covered with the rotting remains of spiders, corpses piled two or three deep in some places, riddled with crossbow bolts. There were sickening scratches and gouges along the walls and gates of the fortress, as though a horde of spiders had tried to claw their way inside the stout fortified building and paid for it with their lives. Siegfried approached the heavy iron door. A small slot opened at about waist height. “Who goes there?” said a voice from within. The glow of a lantern bathed the party in wan light. “The Unseen Protector’s apprentice and all his buddies,” Siegfried said pleasantly. “That’s good enough for me,” the voice said. The slot slid shut and the gate began to open, halting about two feet off the ground. Siegfried sighed, and stooped to crawl beneath the gate. He came face to face with the wide barrels of three thundercannons, held by three gnomes. The gnomes had a haunted, exhausted look to them, their faces caked with dirt and dried blood, some of it gnomish and some of it spiderish. Their armor was dented and abused, and all three of the guards looked like they hadn’t slept in days. “You can stop right there,” the oldest-looking guard said, training his weapon on Siegfried. “I could,” Siegfried agreed, “but then the Unseen Protector wouldn’t have room to enter the vestibule.” “Well, you shoudn’t even be here, at all!” snarled the guard. “I heartily agree,” Siegfried said, getting to his feet and extending a hand. “Siegfried Alagondar, scion of Neverwinter.” Erwen shuffled inside and used  druidcraft  to place a daisy in the barrel of the gnome’s gun. Siegfried stood aside and helped Bob to his feet. Fnipper walked into the vestibule as well. The youngest guard, the one holding the lantern, dropped his gun in shock and ran forward. “Fnipper! I feared you were dead!” Fnipper burst into tears and hugged the guard fiercely. Soon they were exchanging soft words in gnomish. My children are so sad,  Andusk said.  I have failed them. Varien was the last one to clear the drawbridge. As he did so, blade traps were primed and readied along the mainland as the drawbridge began to retract. Varien ducked inside as the gate lowered. The elder guard looked uncomfortable as the strangers crowded into the vestibule. He cleared his throat. “Well, since you’re here anyway, we might as well exchange some pleasantries. I’m Udohorn Littleknight, the young one there is Belfalcon Rockskipper, and our resident crossbow specialist is Zook Shortankard,” Udohorn indicated the stout middle-aged gnome to his left. “We have confirmed that 26 of your fellow gnomes are dead. Fnipper here was the only one we were able to rescue so far,” Siegfried said. “Of course, that’s not counting Charella Mottinsleeves’ crew. Thanks to the efforts of my friends here, they are safely back on track for their run to Leilon.” The guard sagged a little, but then straightened up. “Charella sent you?” he said, his voice trembling. “Indeed she did,” Siegfried said, presenting the travel papers. “The Unseen Protector was busy helping fend off her caravan from an assault of the Forgebar Dwarves.” “Unseen Protector?” Udohorn spat. “Do we look like we’ve been protected?” Zook too looked upset and angry, but held his tongue. Siegfried nodded in an understanding way. “You look like somebody whose Unseen Protector was nearly ambushed and murdered. We’re here to help rectify that. You are of course aware of the assassination attempt on the Unseen Protector?” “What?” Udohorn said. “That’s why the Black Spider was here,” Siegfried said. “We’re trying to fix this situation,” Erwen said. “The Black Spider?” repeated Udohorn. “The Black Spider said he wanted the scions of Ieirithymbul. He didn’t mention anything about the Unseen Protector.” “Why would he?” Siegfried said. “If he revealed his true intentions, you might have all stood your ground. Instead, an impossible foe left you with an impossible choice.” “What makes you think the Black Spider left?” Udohorn asked. “If he’s still here, then maybe we’re not too late,” Siegfried said. “When did he arrive?” “Less than a tenday ago,” Udohorn said. “But we’ve lost track of time down here.” Siegfried approached the nearest firing slit and shouted through it a string of Elven curses, most of them relating to offensive suggestions about Lolth, the drow goddess. “What are you doing?” Udohorn said, aghast. “You’ll bring them down on our head!” “Quite so,” Siegfried said. “My companions have been pursuing the Black Spider for some time now. Once we’re rested and refreshed, we’ll take the fight to him and lay his plans to waste.” “With all due respect, you and your companions look like you’ve been through the same meat grinder we have, back when there was ten of us,” Udohorn said. “You’re not wrong,” Siegfried replied. “But you and your men deserve some rest. We can reinforce the fortress while we recuperate. Get some food and some rest, for we will prepare an assault at first light.” He began the ritual to cast  Leomund’s Tiny Hut. “We’ll take the first watch,” Varien said. Udohorn nodded slowly. Bob began to distribute rations and medicine. Erwen supplied a fish feast. “Has the entire city fallen to Nezznar the Black Spider?” Varien asked Udohorn. Udorhorn shrugged. “The northern section of the city had next to no warning and were overwhelmed, but we reinforced the island and defended our citizens as best we could. The Mayor managed to sound an alarm and execute the protection protocol, sealing the gates and homes, and ordered a general withdrawal back to the Mayor’s Keep, past the Jeweller’s Court. It’s an impregnable redoubt, our last line of defence. Not even the Black Spider could get inside.” Siegfried put the finishing touches on the tiny hut. “We’ll head there first, after we’ve rested.” He scratched his chin, thinking. “But first. Is there anywhere else in the city where survivors might have held out, like you?” Udohorn nodded slowly. “It’s possible.” “Perfect.” Siegfried pulled out several leaves of paper from his journal and began writing a message: This message will return to sender in thirty seconds. We’re a rescue party. Tell us how many you are and how many wounded. He folded the ten sheets into paper airplanes and cast  animate object  on them, directing them to fly to the general locations that Udohorn provided, wait, and then return before the spell wore off. The planes flew out the nearest firing slit. The seconds ticked by, and then one by one, the paper planes returned, unfolding into normal sheets of paper. Siegfried shuffled through them and found that someone had written a reply on the back of the paper. He frowned. The message was blunt. WE ARE LEGION. WE WILL FIND YOU. At the bottom of the message was inked the insignia of a spider. In black ink. “Well friends, I have good news and bad news,” Siegfried said. “The good news is that the Black Spider is terrible at trash talk. The bad news is that’s he’s really good at killing gnomes.”