The Savage Caves - Chapter 5

The Savage Caves: Original Story by T.H. Lain
A Fan-Fiction Reimagining: Walthus Proudstump

Chapter 5

New Koratia, Current Year 575 Readying (Spring) 27, Earthday


The young mage knelt down in the tall grass, looking over the body of the fallen sheep. It was dead - that was very clear to Naull. The bright red bloodstain that ruined its otherwise beautiful white coat oozed slowly from the wounds caused by the spider’s fangs. She’d hoped that the animal might still be alive; smaller spiders often paralyzed their prey before cocooning them in spun webs from their spinnerets but the punctures were too large, too deep. The animal had bled to death almost immediately. She ran a hand over its soft coat and sighed. There was nothing to do about it now. “Poor thing,” she said aloud, though she stood alone in the grass.         She looked back to the hill she’d slid down and once again was thankful for the beauty of her magic. It had removed the stains and filth that had streaked the back of her pants and tunic. There was a small tear in her cowl, though, which she’d need to mend. She ran her fingers over the damaged fabric and whispered the words to her spell as her eyes fell over the smoking remains of the goblin and giant spider that had attacked her. “Suurturar.”         The word sent a tingle running down her fingers and into the object. She shifted her hands back and forth, as if sewing something invisible in front of her and the fabric knit itself back together as surely as if a master seamstress had patched the garment. Though this left no stitch mark, unlike a more mundane repair. Though learning the spell had been a test of patience, she’d been happy Larktiss had insisted - though to learn this effect she’d had to sew so many things by hand. She looked at her handy work and smiled. She lost her smile as she looked back at the blackened bodies of the dead creatures. They both threw themselves headlong into a cone of flames she’d summoned. The rider had tried to hurl themself away but the heat was too much; its body lay a few feet away from its curled up mount. The fire had been so hot the spider’s abdomen had burst and the smell was considerable. Naull had moved quickly away from it, noticing another spider riding goblin slinking off into the woods surrounded by maybe a dozen other spiders. These were similar but only half as large as the mount. She collected her staff and knocked some of the mud from it. Naull was just turning to walk towards the small farm house when she heard a gruff voice behind her call out. “Good day, traveler!” The words were shouted and Naull saw three figures moving forward, two on horseback and one considerably smaller figure walking to the side of the two. Men, she recognized immediately, and the smaller was a child - no, she moved differently. It might be a gnome, she thought with curiosity. She’d never seen a gnomish woman before. She raised her hand and the thought of bandits crossed her mind. She shrugged.         “They can’t be harder to kill than a goblin and giant spider,” she said to herself. The thought of more killing didn’t sit well on the young mage’s mind but the world was not Larktiss’ tower - it required hard choices, she knew.         The three cautiously approached and Naull kept her hand on the staff, the other held down low at her side. She unclipped a pouch containing multicolored sand for a spell. If she needed it. No sense in being unprepared. The lead man, a very tall olive-skinned man in armor, turned his horse to the side as he regarded her. He was wide, with a greying scruff and very short hair. Sitting atop the horse he looked almost like a knight. He carried no heraldry that she could see, though the flash of a red dragon on the shield at his side did catch her eye. His horse stamped the ground, still thirty feet from the mage. The horse’s eyes had the same unsure look Erasmus’ often did and it made her sad. The gruff voice came again and Naull thought it was surprisingly pleasing to the ear. “Are you alright?” She smiled. “Of course,” she said matter-of-factly. “Why wouldn’t I be?” “We followed a trail of blood from a wounded farmer out here,” he continued and raised an eyebrow at her. “Oh! Yes, that.” She waved at the man dismissively. “Dealt with - I was more than capable of handling it.” She pointed her finger at the scorched creatures and the large man openly stared at the still smoking corpses; blackened bodies and flame touched earth were obvious. A large triangular patch of grass had been completely burned away by the effect of the spell about fifteen paces away from where Naull had stood.         “Is the farmer alright?” She asked. She’d not seen a man run but perhaps it was the woman’s husband? The other man dismounted, shifting forward and nodding for the small halfling woman to follow. She begrudgingly did so, it seemed; the little woman rolled her eyes and slowly moved forward, shifting the waist high grass aside. The other man was a priest of Pelor; his symbols and trappings were clearly of a religious figure and his face was rounder than the other man’s, clean shaven. He had simple, friendly eyes but carried a mace at his side. The halfling looked like she had rolled in the dirt; her face and leathers were smudged and messy. “By the grace of Pelor, he’ll live.” The other man’s softer voice made Naull smile. It reminded her of a less raspy Larktiss. “Wonderful. I think I saw his wife, perhaps,” she gestured to the forest the woman had run into. “Fled that way? I was about to enter their home, to see if there were any lingering goblins or spiders.” “Yeah, I’m sure,” the halfling said to her. She raised a thin eyebrow at the smaller woman. She pursed her lips. “Naull,” she inclined her head to the three. The large man was Regdar. He seemed to stare at her face quite a bit, like he was trying to remember something. The halfling was Lidda; she didn’t introduce herself, Regdar did. Lidda did not seem to appreciate this. The Pelorian priest inclined his head in return. “Jozan,” he had said. He looked over to the dead bodies. “You caused this?” She nodded. “Yes. I’m a skilled mage - as I’ve said. I am more than capable of handling such things.” “Looks like it,” Regdar commented and slid from his saddle. The motion was smooth and it was clear to Naull that the man had spent years in a saddle. She noticed the bow and blade he carried. A mercenary perhaps, not a knight. “Did you heal the man?” She turned to Jozan. He nodded. “Yes. I did.” “Always a pleasure to see another wielder,” she commented with a smile. The priest motioned to the goblin and spider. “It would seem our magic is somewhat,” he took a long moment to choose his words. “Different.” “Oh, yes, well. It is important to have the proper spell for every occasion.” Lidda scoffed. “Do you often have the occasion to roast things alive?” “Only recently.” Naull quipped back. She smiled at Lidda and the halfling woman smirked, rolling her eyes again. Lidda turned to Jozan. “Oh, jailer, may I have my weapons? You know, just in case another giant spider decides I look like a sheep.” “I don’t think that’s the best idea,” Regdar said and Lidda turned her head to him. “I don’t know that thinking is your strong point, Rendar.” “Regdar.” “Sure, okay.” She looked at Jozan. “My weapons. Currently I seem to be the only person not capable of defending myself and that feels somehow,” she shifted her hand in front of her in mock searching for a word. She found it. “Bullshit.” She smiled at him. The priest looked unamused but drew a small pack from his waist; he withdrew a bandolier of daggers for the woman. Regdar untied an appropriately sized shortsword and tossed it to her.         “Thank you so much, Father.”         “Lidda. Call me Jozan.”         “Okay, Father.” She smiled at him and strapped the weapons to herself. “Did you happen to pick up my crossbow, Dagmar?” The halfling shot an annoyed look at the tall warrior.         Regdar said nothing.         Naull looked over the group and shrugged. “Are you three an adventuring company?”         Regdar shook his head no, Jozan shook his head yes and Lidda made a slashing motion over her own throat.         “We saved Lidda from the noose,” Jozan said. Lidda opened her mouth and he held up his hand. “Please do not speak. Each time you do so I begin to regret my decision not to allow that mob to keep you with them.”         “They were going to kill me - an innocent woman! You said Pelor doesn’t bless lynchings but I guess that doesn’t apply to halflings, yeah? Typical.” She rolled her eyes. “Humans.” She smoothed her leathers out and started to walk forward.         “Where are you going?” Jozan asked.         “Away from that psychotic town. I am very grateful that you saved me from the noose - thank you. But I’m not going to risk my life for people who were trying to kill me. Maybe you are. And you,” she pointed at Regdar. “But not me.” Lidda pointed at her own chest. She turned to regard Naull and the taller mage caught the woman’s hazelnut colored eyes in her own vivid green. “You seem smart,” she nodded at her. “Maybe don’t get involved with,” she gestured to both of the men. “All of this.”         “I haven’t determined if you’re guilty or not,” Jozan said.         Lidda threw her hands up in frustration. “I am innocent!” Her voice was raised and traveled a good distance from them, echoing in the otherwise silent grassy plain. She pointed her finger at Jozan. “It was exactly like I told the brilliant townsfolk of Fairbye - it was that damned merchant. That sloppy, grubby-handed bastard. He saw me in town, took the opportunity to steal from the people of Fairbye and accused me of it! And it worked! Because people are ignorant.” She mockingly shook her head back and forth. “Oh, a halfling? They love to steal!”         At the mention of a merchant, Naull saw the two men exchange a look and Regdar raised his eyebrow. Lidda noticed as well. She put her hands on her hips.         “I saw that. You believed it too and you weren’t even there to chew back the crap he was feeding them!” She shook her head, clearly extremely annoyed and her little face was red with frustration.         Regdar spoke. “I have known halfling thieves before,” he started. Lidda cut off his thought.         “Just because some halflings steal doesn’t mean all of them do, meathead.” She pointed her small finger at him and looked, to Naull, like an accusing child. “You’re a big, stupid, foul-smelling excuse for a man but I don’t think all humans are like that.” Regdar’s scowl looked serious now and he shifted forward a step. The little woman flipped a dagger out incredibly fast; it was a flash of steel and the blade was in her hand. Naull had to take a moment to process the movement; it was so quick.         "I wouldn’t do that.” The halfling looked very confident.         Jozan held his hand up to stop them both. Regdar had drawn his massive sword in a similarly fluid, lightning quick motion. Naull hadn’t even seen him do it; she was too focused on Lidda. The two looked ready to skewer each other and honestly, Naull found the entire thing exciting. She never had these sorts of days with Larktiss.         “Enough. Lidda - I am sorry. I trusted the words of others and did not listen to you.”         “Yeah, obviously.” She sniped. He made a calming motion with his hand.         “Please.” He turned to Naull. “The people of Fairbye rely on these sheep,” he gestured to the dead that lay away from the four. “It is my duty as a priest of Pelor to try to understand what is happening here. Regdar is escorting me to New Koratia and has agreed to help. He’s a skilled warrior and from my estimation, a good man. A competent mage would be an excellent addition to our group, I think.” He looked at Lidda. “Along with a skilled whatever you are.”         “Treasure hunter,” was Lidda’s response. The large warrior laughed, though it was short and humorless.         “So a thief.” Regdar commented. Lidda stuck her tongue out at him.         “It’s not stealing if someone is dead, Rudder.”         Naull nodded. She took a long moment to consider - Larktiss, I’m sorry.         “I’m willing to join and assist, yes.” She ran a hand through her hair and looked at Lidda, leaning down slightly to be at a closer eye to eye position. “Before I start, I’m doing this - leaning down - to be respectful, not because I’m talking down to you.”         Lidda smiled, gently putting away her dagger.         “Thank you, Naull.” She emphasized her name and shot the two men a glare. Regdar just lowered his blade, though he didn’t sheath it. Jozan looked exhausted and just sighed deeply. “This isn’t the best of circumstances, I understand that. But you look very skilled with that blade and I’m sure I could use the help navigating whatever lies before us. I could really use the help from another worldly woman,” she smiled softly and shrugged her shoulders. “And so could Jozan and Regdar.” The warrior snorted but said nothing. Naull looked at him blankly, shook her head and looked back to Lidda. “Please? You don’t even have to think you’re helping the people of Fairbye. You’re helping me.” The smaller woman took a long moment to consider. “And besides, what if the goblins have raided other towns nearby? There might be some kind of reward for your help.” “Yeah, right.” Lidda said with derision. She clapped her little hands together mockingly several times, almost like an excited child, and sighed. “My very own sheep.” Despite the halfling’s annoyance, Naull couldn’t help but smile.
Regdar crouched and ran a finger over the dry scrubgrass of the plains. When he drew his hand back, the tips of his fingers were stained with blood. “Sheep?” Jozan asked him. “You greatly overestimate my abilities as a tracker.” He replied. Behind the warrior Lidda said something snarky but thankfully he couldn’t hear it. The woman was bold and opinionated; both traits he would normally like in a companion. But her annoying personality otherwise was grating and the thought of working alongside her made him want to grind his teeth down into little stumps. Or grind her down into a stump. He wasn’t sure which sounded better. He looked up and saw scattered sheep in the distance; they must’ve run away after the spider attacked and didn’t return while Naull was here. That didn’t surprise the man.         Livestock don’t usually respond well to violence. They could sense something wrong before it happened in his experience. A good trait to have. But this blood had to come from something and he suspected Naull hadn’t seen the other spider, and goblin, drag off a sheep or two. He stood. The farmland terminated at the tree line, where a thick canopy swallowed the entire ground beneath in dim shadows. He didn’t like the idea of wandering in the woods trying to look for spiders; creatures known to spin webs in trees. And if they were as large as the corpse Naull had shown them, those would be some big webs. The burned bodies were strange to look at - it looked as if they’d been in a fire for hours. All blacked carapace and scorched flesh, tight against flame blasted bone. If Naull was powerful enough to do this, he shuddered to think what she might be able to do to a man if he earned her ire.         He stole a glance at her, chatting lightly with Lidda. Jozan scanned the forest, though he seemed to see nothing. Naull had a nice smile, he thought, and she was certainly more attractive than most of the wizards he’d met in the past. They were boney, too-long in the beard men with egos the size of their towers and that didn’t really do it for the older man. He kept staring for a bit, shifting his eyes around the woman until Jozan placed a hand on his pauldron.         “Can you follow the tracks, Regdar?” He shook his head. “Yes, I think so. There’ll be a trail of blood, judging from the other sheep’s body. There’s been no rain, obviously, but it looks like it may have soaked into the dry grass.” “Didn’t it just rain a day ago?” Lidda asked. “Yes. And pauper’s hair can drink a lot of water,” responded Regdar. The name for the grass was a common one and he’d seen this type of ground cover before. Unless the soil was different, which he suspected it wasn’t based on his limited tracking knowledge, it meant that the blood would still be there - they’d just have to feel it instead of checking visually. He held up his blood stained fingers and Lidda made a silent gagging noise. Naull chuckled softly. Jozan nodded and rubbed his hands together, speaking to all of them. “So, once again Pelor shows us that the path to enlightenment is best traveled on our knees.” He knelt as quickly as his stiff armor allowed, and began to pass his hands over the green-brown grass. “If we can’t see it, we can feel it.” Regdar lowered himself to his knees, passing his hands over the ground in front of him the same as Jozan. Soon he found a small, spotted trail of blood soaked soil leading away from the area. It wasn’t a swath of crimson life dragged over the place but there was enough blood to follow. He looked up. “It’s this way, Jozan.” He pointed to a section of the forest - several dozen yards from where Naull said she’d seen the creatures scamper off to. He turned to look at her and she shrugged, looking a little uncertain. “I don’t have much directional skill, honestly. I’m sorry.” “No need,” Regdar said. “I think I can follow this on my feet.” He stood, feeling a familiar discomfort in his lower back. Riding and sleeping on the ground had been something he enjoyed in his younger years; the freedom under the stars, the whipping wind at a full gallop. He’d loved it and still did. But his aging body did not. He shifted and cracked his back, staring off into the woods before them. “We have to go in.” “Do we?” Lidda asked. The three others turned to her. “What? Look, just hear me out. The spiders are gone! The goblins are gone! And now that one of them is dead, they probably won’t be coming around here to steal anymore sheep - think about it. It’s dangerous now, with a powerful mage around.” She gestured to Naull. “If I was a little goblin with a pet spider, I sure wouldn’t want some woman roasting me to death with magic.” She nodded. “And they don’t know she won’t be here if they come back.” Lidda crossed her arms. “I think it’s an issue that’s resolved itself. Besides,” she pointed over to the dead sheep. “If they took a few sheep, they’re dead anyway. And I don’t think I’d want to eat that if I had the choice. Or buy blood stained wool - do you know how hard it is to get blood out of clothing?” Regdar was curious how Lidda knew that last little piece of information but he had to nod in agreement. She wasn’t wrong. She was still annoyingly smug about it. But not wrong. He looked at Jozan. The priest was shaking his head. “We have a duty to explore the forest for the dead sheep, Lidda. If we find nothing, I will relent. We can return to Fairbye, admit there was nothing for us to follow or do and wash our hands of it.” “You can return to Fairbye if you want, Father. I’m not going back there.” “Did you steal from those people?” He asked her directly. She looked at him for a long second, folding her hands over her chest and rolling her tongue around in her mouth. “What do you consider stealing?” Her response drew a barking laugh from Regdar. She glared at him. “Lidda, I do think that’s pretty clear, don’t you?” Naull looked down at the woman and shrugged, resigned. The halfling put her face in her hands and ran them back over her auburn hair, tightly braided behind her head. There were small beads woven into the hair, Regdar noticed for the first time. The design of the braids was intricate. “Okay. Yes, fine! I may have picked up a few things that weren’t mine but,” she held up her finger and silenced Jozan’s protests. “I only took food and water - drink, fine, drink too. I had been wandering for several days and didn’t have any food! Or water! What was I supposed to do, starve in the woods?” “Did you not think to ask for help from the people of Fairbye?” Jozan’s question held a twinge of confusion, as if the halfling woman may not have thought that was an option. Her response solidified Regdar’s thoughts. “Ask for charity? From the lynch mob?” Lidda shook her head. “No thanks.” “It makes sense to me,” Naull said. Lidda smiled at the young mage. She looked to Regdar and Jozan, shrugging her shoulders. “If you’ve been treated poorly - yes, I know they hadn’t yet done so but I mean in general - by people then you likely won’t want to try again.” “Perhaps,” Jozan said. “Regardless, you’ve stolen. That is a crime, no matter the reason I’m afraid.” “Why are you afraid,” Lidda shot back. “You’re not the one who’s going to be hanged!” “And neither are you,” Regdar added, gesturing to the forest beyond. “If you’re willing to help these people out. Or we can take you back now - I’m not interested in a traveling companion who is going to complain the entire time and refuses to help.” “Have I refused to help so far?” She commented. “Have you done anything?” Regdar leveled her with an annoyed look and the halfling woman stuck her tongue out. “Alright.” Jozan nodded to him and Regdar unslung his bastard sword, hefting the blade and settling into the familiar feeling of battle. He was ready. He shifted his shield and slipped his hand underneath the leather bracings. It would tighten and hold against his arm well enough that the shield shouldn’t come away unless his arm did as well. Lidda pulled her shortsword and Naull gripped her staff tight. Regdar was curious if she knew how to use the staff or if it was just something that all wizards carried with them. Like merchants and coin purses. Or priests and holy texts. With any luck, he thought, he wouldn’t need to worry about it. He trusted Jozan could handle himself. And Lidda was skilled with that blade and her daggers, he was very certain of that. And judging from the corpses, Naull didn’t need the staff. Her magic would do just fine against any spiders or goblins they ran into. The group pushed forward, following Regdar’s lead as he moved into the trees and continued along the blood trail.
A low hanging branch snagged Lidda’s braids and she cursed. She hated the forests - they were too big, too quiet and filled with too many things that poked, snagged and bit. The arrival of spring brought with it gnats and she swore to Olidammara that if she ever met the Laughing God, Lord of Tricksters and Humor, she’d slap him in the face for this obviously bad joke. She was shuffling through the woods with three humans, looking for goblins and spiders, all for a town that she hoped the next drought hit particularly hard. Lidda was tired and annoyed. Her wrists still ached from where the bindings had been tied too tightly. Her back ached from standing for so long. And even though she was grateful that she hadn’t ended her morning swinging from a noose, she was so past caring about helping the idiots who almost made that happen. And these idiots who were forcing her to do it. Well. Not all idiots, she thought as she looked at the back of Naull’s head bobbing left and right as she navigated the forest floor; it was covered in tree roots that breached the ground only to sink back a hand’s length away. A wider step for the long legged in their group but a hop for her. The girl was at least nice, if a little too eager to join this ragtag bunch of goons, she mused. But if she had to do this, at least there was a powerful mage with them. That would be helpful. And hey, who knew - maybe Remdork and Jozan would get tired enough of her complaining that they’d just let her leave. They had Naull. They had magic! Lidda couldn’t do magic! What did they need an urban savvy girl for anyway? They were in the woods. She ducked her head away from a swarm of gnats and spit back towards them. The little bugs buzzed and shifted but seemed unbothered. A thought crept into Lidda’s mind and she smiled, slowing her pace just enough to let Naull get several long strides ahead. They were in the woods! Of course. She could’ve kicked herself. She wasn’t a fan of the woods but she was small, and small things and people were very good at disappearing into a densely packed wood. All she needed to do was keep dropping back a bit further, let the group push deeper into the woods and she could circle back. She’d gotten lost before, sure, okay. But it was a straight shot back to the farm and then she could find the road easily enough. She’d skirt Fairbye, hitch a ride with someone along the road, and enjoy her well deserved freedom. There was a twinge of guilt in her as she thought about abandoning Naull with the two men but she’d be fine, Lidda was sure. She chuckled to herself quietly, listening to the conversation of the taller folk in front of her. “I’m honestly surprised you’re able to keep the trail so well, Regdar.” Jozan said, ducking under a low branch and knocking moss from in front of his face. Lidda could hear every shift and click of the priest’s scalemail. Lidda let Naull continue on, slowly sliding back further. She took a deep breath and held it, counting as the three drew further and further away. She let the breath out just as the back of the mage faded into the dense forest. She smiled.         “Finally,” she said aloud. She sheathed her sword and turned, heading back in the direction they’d come from. It would probably take them a bit to realize she wasn't there and by that time she’d have a good head start. They might come after her but the halfling woman doubted it.         They were trying to help the murderous people of Fairbye and that would be more important than her slipping away into the woods. Now, she mused as she began the trek back to the farm, let’s get out of this damned forest. She jumped over a fallen branch and was wondering who might recognize that she’d disappeared first when she heard the sound of something shift nearby. She looked to her right, expecting to see a rabbit or even a bird on one of the branches above her but instead she came eye to many eyes with a massive grey-white furred spider. The thing had stopped a foot or two away - it must’ve moved up on her when she’d separated from the group! And she’d only just now heard it.         Damn it! She moved to draw her blade and the thing made a strange, almost hissing noise and Lidda dove backwards in anticipation of an attack. As she rolled, she suddenly realized that her small shoes were stuck to something. She looked down and saw the thick strands of spider’s webbing on her feet; she was tangled in the stuff, which stretched forward and seemed to form an intricate funnel shape nestled between two trees. It was a few feet off of the ground and had a wide base spreading out half a dozen feet in all directions.         “Oh, damn it!” She yelled. She turned, fully drawing the shortsword, and brandished it before her. The blade tip swayed back and forth and the spider lurched forward, testing her defense with a hissing strike with its fangs. The halfling managed to catch the flat of the blade against the creature’s face but missed doing any real damage to it. It shook its flat head and waited.         The black spheres of its eight eyes watched her every movement with detached patience. This thing was a predator and she’d fallen into its trap. She yelled, flailing her blade in front of her and hacking at the webbing around her. The halfling felt grateful the rider the spider was meant to have wasn’t present.         “Help!” She cried out, trying to figure out which direction she’d come from. She slashed at the webs but they were harder than she’d expected them to be. The blade’s edge seemed to skate off of them and Lidda suddenly felt real panic creep into her mind. Oh gods, oh gods! She wriggled violently, trying to tear her foot free but the webbing was too strong. The spider hissed again, crouching low and jumping above her onto the trees. It skittered around, looking for a vantage point and lashed out again. This time it was too awkward to strike with the blade, so she dropped it and threw herself to the side. She avoided the bite again but her shoulder pressed against more web and she couldn’t free it.         “Help! Help! Jozan! Naull! REGDAR!!” She screamed, wrenching her head to the side so she could see the spider. It was moving again and she reached for the bandolier of daggers. The thing’s weight tugged at all of the connected web and nausea rolled in her gut as Lidda realized she could feel it move, almost like it was walking against her skin. She freed one of the daggers and tried to angle herself to properly throw it but the position was difficult. With her shoulder stuck, she’d have to try and throw the dagger over her other shoulder and hope it hit its mark. She yelled again, and again, stabbing at the webs holding fast to her shoulder. The edge of the knife sliced through it and she laughed, stabbing rapidly at the bindings as she screamed again. The spider moved slowly, its legs triggering the webbing and a horrible thrum passed through her body. She craned her head and could see its glistening eyes, fangs poised to strike at her unprotected back. She whimpered and closed her eyes. “Olidammara, please!” There was no answer and she tensed. The spider hissed, right behind her, and she felt it lunge. “No!” She screamed. A wave of lethargy washed over Lidda and she felt her limbs grow heavy, her hand dropping the dagger it held. It fell somewhere next to her but she couldn’t open her eyes to see. She smelled roses, maybe? Or lilacs? She could never tell the difference. Had the spider bitten her? Was its venom exhausting her so it could wrap her up in webs and suck out her fluids? Lidda didn’t remember feeling the pain she’d expected from the bite. She whimpered and shifted to the side, opening her eyes with immense effort. The giant spider loomed right next to her face and she let out another whimper, this one considerably louder and more fearful. The thing hung there, suspended by its back legs right above her. She could see herself in its lidless eyes. “Lidda?” The voice sounded familiar and she shifted her eyes, not wanting to turn away from the spider. It wasn’t moving and hadn’t attacked her. But who knows how long that would last? She saw Regdar moving towards her. He shifted forward and, with his bastard sword, sawed through some of the webbing that held her. She felt her shoes slip off of her feet and she was being pulled away from the webs. It clung to her shoulder in long strands and then the ground was under her. She saw the vague outline of Naull’s angular face as her eyes opened and closed slowly. She felt drugged. Exhausted. She could just close her eyes and sleep. A firm, bracing slap made her eyes shoot open. As if waking from a dream and being immediately aware of her surroundings, the drowsiness faded. She was on the ground, with Regdar and Naull looking down at her. Strands of spider silk were swaying and sticking to her hair. She twisted, avoiding Regdar’s hand and rolled away from the two humans. She stood and saw the spider still hadn’t moved. Jozan was close by it, looking at the thing with bizarre fascination and he drew his mace. The creature didn’t react, didn’t move to protect itself as the priest raised his weapon high and said a prayer to Pelor. The heavy bludgeon came down on the head of the spider, the carapace making a horrible cracking noise as it split and the priest was splattered with flecks of blue blood. She winced away from the sight and caught Naull’s eyes. The girl looked concerned. Genuinely concerned. Regdar just looked angry, though she couldn’t tell if it was at her or the dead spider. Jozan wiped the mace off on the scrubgrass in front of him. He turned. “Lidda, are you alright?” She nodded but avoided eye contact. “I’m sorry, Lidda.” Naull said. “I had to target you both with my spell - it's an area, you see, not a single creature and there was no way to place it without catching you.” She sounded apologetic but Lidda shook her head. “No, stop. It’s fine, Naull.” She caught the woman’s concerned eyes and it made her feel ashamed. “Thank you,” she managed. “She doesn't look like she’s been hurt.” Regdar stood fully, his blade at his side and his shield on his back. He reached down and managed to collect her dagger, as well as the sword. It looked like a long knife in his large hands. He offered them to her. “You’ve got to be careful, Lidda. If we hadn’t noticed you’d fallen behind we might not have found you in time.” He stared at her, eyes level, and she knew the man understood the situation. He knew she hadn’t just fallen behind. But he said nothing. Jozan moved over to look at her and she waved him off. “Father, I’m fine.” “Jozan.” He said. “Good. Then we can continue on. Lidda, maybe it's best if I take the back and you can stand in front of Naull?” He gestured for the four of them to continue and Lidda didn’t argue. Naull picked up conversation, something about slumber spells or whatever, though it was quiet and the halfling was only half paying attention. She could’ve died. She could’ve died and been spider food and no one would’ve found her body. She’d be a halfling cocoon for eternity. She shuddered and kept her shortsword out as they walked. Naull had saved her. They all had saved her. Lidda was quiet as they moved, surprising not only the humans she walked with but herself as well.

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