Upon seeing the spider, Stephan cursed himself for not having a flame ready. He directed his lightstone at the creature.
The priest sidestepped as sticky strands filled the air.
“What’s it doing with its…” was all the fighter was able to vocalize before being engulfed in the numbing webs. He collapsed to the floor, his lightstone still clutched in his left hand; sword in the right. The stone glowed through some webbing that had clotted up around his hand. He feebly struggled, trying to use his sword to cut the bonds. But his struggles soon waned and Stephan lay still on the damp floor.
“Come on now, then,” urged the elf. “We have it now.”. Hasan quickly summoned a magical missile and released it, sighing with satisfaction as it buried itself in the arachnid’s skeletal surface.
Miklos wondered momentarily why the creature hadn’t tried this attack before when surrounded earlier. Everyone seemed to rush past him. There was no room so he grabbed the stricken woodsman and set about pulling the strands from the bound warrior clearing his face, neck and arms. “Come on Stephan, don’t give up. I can’t do this on my own you know.” he urged.
The stuff was hardening as he pulled at the strands and making the sort of sound that cloth makes when you tear it. “There we go! that’s one hand free at least.”
Hernane – as emotionally drained as she was, suddenly felt the fire of righteous anger course through her veins – bellowing out a dwarven battle cry she rushed past Feldard and Stephen and charged the spider determined to finish off the beast once and for all. She thrashed out her frustration and anger onto the creature as her axe rose and bit deep into the spiders thick hide. Hernane felt that if this creature which had caused so much suffering died then some of her problems would die with it. She refused to be seen by Feldard as some poor damsel requiring rescue when she was every bit as capable as he was. “Go for the eyes” she grunted more to herself than to anyone who might be listening “blind it—then decapitate it”.
Feldard was grateful for his quick dwarven reflexes at avoiding the spiders webbing but they weren’t quick enough to grab Hernane from her headlong rush towards the beast that had felled her twice. Did the woman not think? Perhaps she deserved his younger brother – he too was an addle-minded fool with oafish notions. With a deeper scowl than usual, Feldard grunted and moved in to finish off the beast before Hernane could get bit again.
While Hernane went for the eyes, Feldard headed for the side, and swung underhand going for the softer and more vulnerable underbelly of the beast. He unleashed his fury on the creature, again and again. Each strike, each dying shriek of the spider, dissipating some of his anger and tension.
Hernane had been gripped by some dwarven battle lust, and Maruc was not about to interfere. He could tell Feldard was alarmed, if not more angry than usual. If that where possible in the priest’s experience. He’d be too busy to overhear any of their conversations but whatever had gone between them had obviously not gone well.
Still, thought Maruc, its hasn’t dampened their aggressive spirits…. every cloud so they say.
The arachnid was cornered, its was hard to help amongst the churning blades of the dwarven battle axes. But he did his best, whilst avoiding its dripping fangs.
The battle went quickly and predictably. For the third time, Hernane was paralyzed by the spider. The dwarf and cleric benefited from the protection afforded by their armour and put the beastie down. As in the past, after several minutes, both spider victims recovered from the paralysis.