As the Troupe moves deeper into the Cloakwood, Jaheira warns that this part of the wood is infested with ettercaps and spiders. They encounter Tiber, who asks them to seek out his brother, Chelak. Chelak foolishly went into the forest with a magical sword, believing he would leave a hero.
6 Eleasias 1368
Before we can descend the cliff face into the Ettin infested woods, we already find ourselves trapped in thick strands of silk, huge spiders closing in on us after sensing our movement in the web.
The path is narrow, so Cat and Khalid manage to hold the spiders at bay, though their movement is hindered. Small spiders crawl from the web onto our bodies, an annoying distraction even if not a deadly threat.
Coran and White can barely pull their bowstrings taut, though Helga and I are able to pull our arms from the web and hurl our bullets. Jaheira managed to stay far back enough that the web doesn’t reach her.
Cat is able to tear open the carapace of the last spider, leaving us to focus on pulling ourselves out of these webs. We’ll have to be careful now – these webs will be connected through a large area of the forest, so the spiders and ettercaps nearby will know exactly where we are.
I start to see things, another vision. Bulbous humanoid figures with mandibles instead of mouths tearing into Cat with their claws. My familiar is torn apart by one of the creatures, and the departure of its soul takes mine with it.
I can’t risk his death in this wood, so I pick him and tell him he should return to my pack for now. He isn’t happy, but reluctantly crawls back into my pack.
We press on, free from the webs but knowing the ettercaps and their kin will be stalking us. It isn’t long before they find us.
Four of the creatures lumber toward us. They have two thick digits on their hands and feet, each ending with long talon-like claws. Their black spider-like eyes seem almost like empty sockets, as empty as their souls.
Khalid pushes forward to hold them back again when webs burst down from the trees and consume him. The rest of us held back, managing to avoid the trap this time.
Without my familiar to worry about, we take them out surgically, one by one. Khalid is able to keep them from biting him, even as he fights against the webbing that slows him down.
I have read that their poison sacs can fetch a good price in the right marketplace. Unfortunately we have no time for butchering, even if any one of us knew how. We cut Khalid free from the web trap and press on, stepping lightly despite the exhaustion settling into our limbs. Then, through the thick undergrowth, a figure emerges, a woman in druidic garb, standing with arms crossed as though expecting us.
When she is out of earshot I ask Coran if he thinks she means the wyvern we are already hunting down. He laughs and says we should have asked her about its tail.
Our progress is hindered by thick webs that coat the undergrowth, and the constant need to whip away small spiders that crawl around us. We get caught in another web trap, and as we try to break free another huge spider crawls toward us. The two forelegs of this spider seem more like long blades than spider’s legs.
It launches itself at White, a blur of chitin and steel. He looses an arrow mid-air, striking true, but the spider’s weight still crashes into him, its bladed forelimbs raking across his shoulders.
The barbarian screams as the spider tears into him. We do all we can to get the spider away from White as he swings his flails at the beast. Eventually Coran is able to put an arrow through one of its dark eyes.
We pull ourselves free from the webs, and the moment we do the spider’s masters find us. Two more ettercaps rush across the nearby stream toward us.
White is able to kill one at range, and Khalid rushes the other before it can get close to the wounded barbarian. He pushes Varscona through its chest and it is no more.
For a time, we encounter no more ettercaps or their kin. But we are never free of the webs. They stretch from tree to tree, draping over branches like ghostly curtains. Some strands tremble, though nothing stirs them. Shapes shift in the shadows. Perhaps the breeze, or perhaps something waiting for us to look away.
Though we encounter no more spiders for a while, Jaheira and White’s wounds are starting to slow them down. We take a rest, forcing ourselves to ignore the way the webs tremble in the distance. The air is still thick with that sour, organic scent: rotting vegetation and spider silk. I take a sip from my waterskin to wash the taste from my tongue, but it doesn’t help. Even the wind feels wrong here, as if it carries whispers rather than a breeze.
White takes a long draught of a Potion of Healing, then grimaces and wipes his mouth. Jaheira drinks some as well and their wounds begin to close up. White reaches for a second potion. Barbarians are made of hardier stuff, but that means they need more healing to remain at full strength.
We hear the sound of flowing water crashing over rocks. We follow the sound, hoping for a reprieve from the suffocating webs. The air starts to smell fresh and the webbing is left behind us. We find ourselves on a cliff face overlooking a waterfall. There is a small outfit left here, though we know not why it was here. Did someone decide to go for a swim in the waterfall?
The effects include s suit of leather armour, as well as an enchanted scimitar that I cannot identify. Could this be the Spider’s Bane? Is this the fate of Tiber’s brother?
Jaheira says it does not look like he fell in battle. If he was slain by spiders, his bones should be here, wrapped in silk. And if he drowned, why would he strip before swimming?
Something doesn’t add up.
Until we know more, we can’t make use of it. We store it in our Bag of Holding. We will ask Tiber if this is the sword. But we should make more of an effort to find Chelak first. After all, he wouldn’t come out to this place if he was hunting spiders.
There is also a ring among the outfit. I notice that this one is cursed, giving the wearer the appearance of a corpse.
A cursed ring that brings us no closer to the mystery of why these things are here. If someone did take a swim it will have been their last.
I take the moment to breathe in the fresh air from the falls, but it doesn’t help. I still feel the weight of the webs clinging to my skin, the itch of unseen spiders crawling over me. I absently scratch at my arm, then my neck, then my leg, even though I know nothing is there. I hate this place. I hate the way it sticks to me, how even the air feels thick and heavy.
A loud sneeze breaks my train of thought. I turn to see White rubbing his nose, muttering something under his breath.
Aegon: What’s wrong? Did you get hurt?
White: Not sure why, but I don’t react very well to some of these. I start sneezing, my eyes turn red – bloody reaction…
Aegon: So it’s an allergy?
White: I suppose…
He sneezes.
White: Raaah! I really feel like destroying something – anything just to get rid of this infernal feeling! Raaahh-
He sneezes again.
White: You see? Gah…
Aegon: I was always wondering: these reactions are usually to cats or dogs or wolves, but what about werewolves? Or werecats? I mean, there is no reaction to human hair, but what if a human changes to a were-something? Does it count?
White: …
What kind of question is that? I have no idea. I never actually fought werewolves, wererats or any “weres”.
No matter where I go – if it’s a city, forest or… just anywhere, if there are some cats or dogs, I end up just like that. I remember that it almost killed me once.
Aegon: How come? Allergy isn’t a deadly thing. At least not usual allergy.
White: One night, when I had to stop, eat something to gather some energy before I could go across the Blisswater River – I got attacked by a pack of wolves. Half a dozen growling, hungry beasts that were just waiting to feast on some flesh.
That was quite a fight, but when there were just two left, I started to sneeze, my eyes got red and itchy, I had this strange feeling in my throat! Not sure if they realised but that moment they attacked!
Aegon: Gods! What happened next?
White: They bit my leg, just above my knee. They seemed blurry as my eyes got wet – not sure if sweat got into them, or if the allergy – so I started to wave my morningstar in anger and fear.
That was the only moment in my whole life when I went completely berserk! It wasn’t like my usual focused anger. It was FURY.
I killed them, finally. But I couldn’t even take the trophy as the allergy wouldn’t go away, huh.
Aegon: Ah, so that’s why you’re not wearing any leather with fur, studded tan et cetera, as most barbarians do?
White: Well, yes. And because it’s rather warm here. No need to use fur or cover skin with heated fat.
Aegon: Oh, yes. I didn’t think about that.
White: Heh.
Whoah, but I supposed we talked for quite a while already, Aegon. I suppose we should move o-
His final thought is interrupted by another sneeze. I chuckle.
Aegon: Heh, bless you, Barbarian of the Running Nose.
White: Don’t tease me…
White rubs his face, clearly miserable.
As I watch him grumble, another thought occurs to me. His allergy flared up suddenly, but there are no wolves around. Then I glance at my pack. Cat’s been quiet, but he must have poked his head out at some point. White sneezes again, louder this time, and I start to piece it together.
We leave the waterfall and its secrets behind us. Coran decides to try and entertain us as we walk back toward the spider’s wood.
Aegon: Now, Coran, if you could only explain why elves dislike dwarves as well…
Coran: After the elf has heroically slain the foul orc, there is one thing left for him to do. He will die in sad reverie about his kin’s glorious past and amid regrets of his inability to prevent their inevitable demise. Then a dwarf will come by and try to bury him, but, while digging his grave, he is as like as not to find a vein of mithral. So he’ll use the tree to smelt the metal and will have no time among his labours to worry about the elven corpse… And that is why elves dislike dwarves.
Aegon: Which will be eaten by a hungry halfling, in turn?
Coran: It must be one really hungry halfling you are talking about, Aegon. I rather think that he would open a small tavern on the spot and call it the “Elf and Orc”, and boast unceasingly that he sells the best ale on Toril. That would be true, of course, since we’re talking about the very last one.
Aegon: What about humans and gnomes?
Coran: A human would peer at the elf’s remains, thinking wistfully that he would never be able to die in such a mystic way, but aloud he would say that the arrogant bastard had found an appropriate end. I swear by Hanali Celanil’s golden rose that I do not know what a gnome might do. Ask a gnome…
Aegon: Yeah, good story!
Coran: I hope that you’d trade me a tale a two of your own for this? Something about the fun times monks have in Candlekeep, maybe?
Ha! I could tell him stories of the tomfoolery Alec, Imoen, and I would get up to back at the Keep! The monks themselves aren’t much to talk about. They were generally focused on their studies, and strict when it came to our lessons and chores.
We fear we may have strayed to far away from the ettercaps, but we start to see cobwebs again. They get thicker and start to block out the light again. They must be able to sense us again.
We know we are back on track to look for Chelak when we encounter more spiders. One of them has the sword-like arms; White takes aim at that one first.
The spiders close in on us, and Jaheira is forced to draw her club to defend against the giant beasts. Khalid deflects the sword spiders attacks, knocking it unconscious. He thrusts Varscona into its carapace and it doesn’t get back up.
Jaheira cracks open the other two spiders, spilling their insides onto the forest floor. Smaller spiders crawl into the corpses, cannibalising what is left of their bodies.
I don’t like spiders. I hate webs. I want to get out of here. But we promised Tiber we would find his brother. So deeper we will go into the spider’s nest. I hope we’ll find the young fool alive.
