Into the Spider’s Den | The Corruption of Lani

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Jason St-Cyr

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Lying in the darkness of the path ahead of them was a shape. From this distance, the torch light could not reach it well, making it hard to make out details. It was small, a humanoid of some kind, but not much more could be determined in the shades of gray of the elf’s vision. Suspicious of the situation, the group carefully approached the corner, spreading out and grabbing cover where necessary. The barbarian passed his torch to his halfling companion to free his grip for the large axe in his hands, the group clearly sensing something was off, as they quietly approached the figure ahead of them. Who could it be?

Tanthalas, scouting ahead of the main force of the group, reached the shape on the floor first. The elf knelt down next to the body which seemed far too corroded for having been the work of sewer rats. The small frame, the ears, and what was left of the face were those of a goblin. There were no identifying marks or tags, but Tanthalas did manage to find a rusted key in the goblin’s pockets. Perhaps for the door they had just passed?

Since no danger had been indicated Brylla stepped forward and crouched down next to the elf to get a better look at the damage to the body. Perhaps with more time, better light, she might have been able to tell what killed it but at the moment it was a mystery. As she started to try to catch the goblin’s face in some better light, the elf placed a hand on her shoulder in warning, pointing down the tunnel, but it was too late.

A familiar scurrying noise was approaching from the darkness down the tunnel, racing toward them. Teeth flashed in the torchlight as the swarm of rats was upon them again. How many of them were down here?

Having hung back as the others advanced, Audak found himself in an unfortunate situation on the other side of the water flow. The two largest rats closed in on the goliath first, one launching itself directly at him as the other scrabbled at the stone from the water, trying to get a foothold on the walkway. Tanthalas pulled his rapier out as a swarm of small bodies covered him, tiny needle-like teeth snapping for anything they could get a grip on. The ranger’s tough armour kept him safe, at least for the moment, from those small jaws, giving him enough time to stab his blade at the mass of rodents and create quite the skewer of rat corpses.

Once the rats lost the element of surprise, the party swiftly went to work. One rat met the wrong end of a greataxe before being picked up by a ghostly skeletal hand and tossed into the water. The other had a moment of triumph as it climbed out of the water, only to find itself cloven in two by Audak’s strong swing. Perhaps remembering his last encounter, Thegman stepped forward with purpose and knocked the rest of the swarm into the churning river of filth. With any luck, that was the last of them.

Or was it?

The elf’s excellent eyesight noticed that the tunnel ahead was different, with more wooden bridges and quite a few barricade walls built up. But what had caught Tanthalas’ attention was the sound of movement coming from behind the barricades. Clearly, the loud battle with the rats had raised something’s attention. Tanthalas quickly motioned to the rest of the crew, hoping they could quiet down.

Everyone held their breath, not daring to move. Only the sound of the rushing water filled the air. Tanthalas drew his bow, his eyes trying to follow the shape in the darkness ahead. It was moving purposefully, but with caution, taking care to step extremely quietly and making nary a sound. The elf probably would have missed the figure in the dark had he not been watching for it. Then it was gone, slipped behind a barricade and out of view. Not even the sound of breathing could be heard as all in the tunnels held their place.

Suddenly, two small eyes peered around the barricade, checking to make sure the coast was clear. Audak’s arms were tired from holding his axe at the ready for this long, but he held off, not being able to see what was there. Tanthalas narrowed his eyes, trying to see what it was. The face looked uncomfortably familiar: a goblin. Typically wild, the goblins had been quite the nuisance in the elf’s forest, causing all kinds of problems. Tanthalas had learned to track and hunt those, but this one was behaving differently. The urban setting was not one Tanthalas was used to and perhaps the goblins here were different?

Not noticing the elf lying in wait, nor hearing the others who were only a few feet away around the corner, the goblin slowly stepped out from behind the barricade and moved to inspect the dead rats on the stone walkway. Kneeling down to the hard surface, the goblin started examining the remains, only to spook as Tanthalas’ arrow thudded into the barricade behind it. The warning shot sent the goblin springing to its feet, ducking back behind the barricade, no longer worried about stealth. The sound of its steps swiftly slapping away into the darkness could be heard clearly.

Hearing the fleeing figure getting away, Flynver called out down the tunnel, pleading for the goblin to stop. This was their first chance to learn more about what was happening down here. Holding the torchlight in hand, trying to assure the goblin that they were not a threat, the halfling spoke earnestly about their desire to come in peace and help. The running stopped. In the dim torchlight, even at this distance, the wizard could see the goblin was considering his words.

The city below

“WEZIZ NO SCARED OF YOU! THIZES OUR CITY, YOUZES NOT WELCOME!” the goblin stuttered out shakily, either from fear or adrenaline. The little being held his ground, his short sword looking huge on his diminutive goblin frame. The small eyes darted back and forth, but mostly were eyeing up the halfling holding the torch.

“You can trust us, we are friends”, Flynver assured him, noting the goblin was warming to him. Getting the goblin to talk was going to be key to establishing rapport. “We are here to help.”

“Here to help?” parroted the sword-wielding goblin, asking almost with a bit of hope in his broken Common. It was clear that the goblin wasn’t used to people trying to help his kind and his wariness of the intruders was quickly eroding. “Follow meez, but only you-zes comes in. Others stay outside.”

Gesturing behind him towards the other barricades, the goblin introduced himself as Boblin and invited Flynver in. The others followed but stayed just outside the last series of barricades where it would be safe enough to rest. Before the halfling, here in the dark tunnels of sewage, stood a makeshift city of boards, sheets, and fabrics. Several goblins and kobolds stood, uncertain, holding makeshift weaponry. Pots, wooden boards, whatever they could pick up quickly in their homes. Parents ushered children into their homes and tents, unsure of what might happen with the strangers.

Putting away his sword, Boblin explained to Flynver that they had come here after being pushed out of their home deeper in the sewers by a giant spider. Boblin’s friend had just recently gone back to get some things that had been left behind, but they had not heard back from him yet. Flynver could hear a bit of sadness in his voice but the halfling didn’t have the heart to tell him about the body they had found only a short distance away.

Seeing the two speaking calmly, the other residents went back to their day of prepping meals and cleaning around. A large pot was boiling something that looked like soup but smelled like troll feet. Even in the sewers, that wasn’t a pleasant smell.

In general, the entire situation was puzzling. Brylla and Flynver had travelled in the area before and it had never occurred to them that people would live in the sewers of Denn, let alone seem to be comfortable and unphased by the smell. Based on the conversation with Boblin, it seemed that this group had been down here for quite some time. Tanthalas had a lot of history with goblins, but these folk were nothing like the ones he had encountered above ground.

“Oh yesis, we-zis been down here very long times, very longs. In old place, nice home. Nasty spider take nice homezes. Boblin not scared, Boblins has swordzes, but needs makes safe others more. We heres now.”

Boblin certainly seemed like a brave little soul, and one that cared for his people. He was likely the closest thing they had to a leader down here.

Thanking Boblin for the information, and promising to take care of the spider problem, the group took a quick break to lick their wounds and prepare themselves for the next push through the large locked door. The goblin had mentioned that there was a funny smell behind the door so the group was planning to be on guard for anything out of the ordinary.

Feeling refreshed and ready to push on, Brylla stood up and gestured for everyone to get moving. They had more than overstayed their welcome in the city below the streets and it was time to push on with their mission. Ready for anything, Tanthalas led the way and pulled out the rusty key from one of the folds of his pack, hoping it wouldn’t break apart in the large industrial door. With a deep breath, the hunter slid the key in and felt the reassuring sound of tumblers activating, followed by a solid click.

A deadly haze

Once unlocked, the massive steel door slid aside easily on its rollers, making a noise loud enough to wake the dead, and burying itself almost entirely into the stone doorframe. The light from the torch in Flynver’s hands spilled through the doorway to light up a greenish cloud. Their eyes, nose, and lungs were assaulted by whatever was in the fog on the other side of the door. Brylla could tell this was not the same filth they had experienced so far, but could not quite identify what it was. In the haze ahead, they could see a figure slumped against a large pipe, a huge valve hanging over top of them. Behind that were two bubbling barrels, clearly the source of the problem. The fog burned their nostrils as they held their breath and pushed forward into the green cloud. The figure at the base of the pipe stared up at them with the glazed look of the dead. They would have to act fast, lest they join the figure themselves!

Thinking quickly, Flynver gestured towards the valve, making a rotating motion with his hand. The barbarian and the fighter rushed forward to begin turning the valve, hoping to let out the gas that had filled the room with this green fog. A humming sound began as they moved the old wheel and some of the fog began to be pulled upward. Thegman watched on in concern as he could tell the gas was not leaving quickly enough and they would all have to take a breath before it cleared.

While the two warriors battled the valve, Flynver’s focus point was definitely the man lying against the pipe. Up close, it was easier to identify the workman’s blue overalls and the bright red shirt worn by the heavily mustachioed man. An engineer’s tool, possibly a plumber’s wrench, was in one hand, clenched tightly. On his overalls was a name tag that read “Marko”. This must have been one of the sanitation engineers the Council had sent down. As the wizard adjusted the fabric to read the name, a glint caught his eye against the red fabric beneath. Most of the engineer had been slightly corroded, his belongings starting to break apart, but this amulet seemed untouched. The halfling quietly lifted the star-shaped pendant and stashed it away in his robes for later examination. Right now was not the time!

Wishing to continue, but knowing they could not, Flynver led the retreat back to the slightly-less-noxious air of the sewers. Audak slammed the sliding door shut, understanding now why it had been locked in the first place. Since they all had to wait anyway, the halfling wizard returned to his new friend Boblin and the sewer city residents, hoping to find something to cover the vats of bubbling green liquid. It wasn’t much, but the boards of wood that some of the residents found were likely large enough to create a cover. It wouldn’t be a permanent fix, but for the time being the problem could be slowed down.

The fan took a lot more time to clear the room than Audak was happy with. The barbarian slid open the large door every few minutes, checking the air, wishing to finally end the frustration brought about by the delay. He hoped they could get moving again, feel the rush of excitement, the thrill of the battle. Again and again he settled back down to continue the agonizing wait. It took well over ten minutes, likely closer to fifteen, before the air felt somewhat normal again and everyone felt safe investigating.

Stepping forward with the light, Flynver swung the flickering illumination, shedding away the shadows that made it difficult to properly examine the details of the room. The earlier push into the haze had allowed them all a quick look, but now the air was as clear as it could be and there was no urgency to distract them. With a better view, it now became clear that there was some sort of marking on the barrels. A form of rune, added almost like graffiti, from a language none of them had seen before. Before covering the barrels up, Brylla carefully examined the liquid contents. The cleric could tell the concentrated form of the gas was dangerous and clearly acidic. Between this and the markings on the body of Marko, it seemed logical that this gas was Marko’s cause of death.

With the immediate issue handled, the crew attempted to push forward only to find themselves facing yet another heavy door. Somehow a huge steel beam had been braced up against the door, blocking the ability to open it. At first, the goliath stepped forward with his massive frame but the bar barely budged in his hands. Even with the ranger’s added force they continued to struggle under the weight of the bar. Brylla slid her squat frame under another leverage point and together the three of them were able to free the door. How had the goblins managed to get this bar into place?

All that effort to get through the door was somewhat anti-climactic, however. A quick peek revealed nothing much more than a pool of dirty water, green like the rest. The door slid aside loudly, like the first, allowing the party to spill into the small room. On the near wall, the torch lit up yet another valve, this time with a schematic diagram next to it indicating a backup valve further in the labyrinth of tunnels. As the group investigated, Tanthalas tensed, sensing something moving beneath the water, but just as quickly the movement was gone. So far, it had paid off to be cautious so the group stayed still as Audak investigated with one of his javelins, poking about in the water. His aimless jabs found no purchase. Perhaps it was nothing?

Tanthalas kept a close eye on the water, ready for anything, while Audak and Flynver moved to examine the valve. It was rusted and corroded beyond repair, unable to move. Audak braced himself and grasped the wheel with his massive hands, using all the force of his straining muscles to turn the valve. With a great yank, it started to move, only to be ripped right off the wall! Unsure of whether to be proud or ashamed of his feat of strength, Audak handed the valve to his halfling companion who used some arcane magics to affix the valve back on the wall. Clearly they would need to follow the direction to the backup system.

Come into my parlour

The diagram’s instructions indicated that the corridor next to the valve would be the way to exit, but Flynver stopped very suddenly as he moved towards the gate blocking the exit. The halfling held the torch aloft, trembling just a little as his eyes took in the sight before him. Quietly tending to its web was the largest spider that Flynver had ever seen. Legs long enough to rival Audak and a thorax black as night and as large as a horse. It had not sensed him yet, or did not care. Either way, Flynver quietly moved his free hand as he whispered the incantations that would bring him protection. The rest of the group stood still, wondering what might have caught Flynver’s attention.

Chaos broke out when the wizard let loose that same skeletal phantom into the spider’s lair. Surprised, the spider had little time to react before Brylla summoned a blast of radiant energy upon it, evoking a shrill sound from the beast as it recoiled in pain. The magical assault sent the spider scurrying up the walls, out of sight. Lifting the gate, Audak and Thegman stepped through the tight corridor, forced to creep forward single file. Ahead of them the corridor opened up into a wider room, full of darkness. Signs of webbing were everywhere that the torch light fell, but there was no noise. Only silence in the darkness.

Flynver tossed the torch as far as he could, bringing light to the chamber, but Audak could still see no sign of the silent, eight-legged creature. Squeezing through the corridor, the elven ranger deftly slid past the dwarf and the barbarian, weapons at the ready. As Tanthalas stepped into the spider’s chamber a blast of webbing struck him from above, coating him from head to toe. He struggled in vain against the webbing, but he was stuck, unable to get free. Nearby on the floor was a shape, perhaps a man, caught in similar webbing. It was not moving. Tanthalas hoped that would not be his fate!

An enormous shadow moved quickly across the high ceiling of the room, slipping from web to web with the casual ease that arachnids have. The many-eyed head seemed to glare back at them in its alien way as it positioned its body between the adventurers and its collection of egg sacs. The spider’s mandible clicked loudly as the two warriors stepped forward and attempted to knock it down from its perch with ranged weaponry.

Flynver, acting quickly, used his small form and natural agility to find his way through all the webbing and into the center of the chamber. Facing up at the spider that must have been at least five times his diminutive size, the white-haired wizard stood firmly and his hands danced in the air as he brought about the full force of his voice. A thunderous blast of sound erupted from the halfling, sending webbing, debris, and boxes flying towards the far corner of the ceiling. The spider screamed out in an ear-splitting screech as its legs were folded in upon its body, sending it flying into the far wall and crushing it. The immense corpse came falling to the floor, along with a rain of shattered egg sacs.

The wizard paused for a moment, admiring his work, before picking up the torch to burn away the webbing holding the ranger in place. The monstrous beast was dead, surely good news to share with Boblin and the families of the shanty town. Brylla let out a sigh of relief, not realizing how tense she had been about the size of the spider.

With a moment to take their breath, the group looked about at the spacious room. The high vaulted ceilings, at least 20 feet, were unusual in an underground system like this. Underneath the webbing the group found signs of makeshift shelters, crates, and badly constructed furniture, but nothing of value. At least, not to a shopkeep. Certainly the kobolds and the goblins would welcome getting their belongings back.

Moving towards the body trapped in a cocoon, Flynver burned away the webbing to reveal the same blue overalls that had been worn by Marko, but this unfortunate soul wore a green shirt with the name tag “Louis” in large letters. Pushing aside the plumber’s tools, Flynver lifted a round tool that Louis had been carrying, a valve similar to the ones they had seen before. Handing it to the barbarian, the wizard pointed over at the exit from the webbed chamber. A huge steel gate had been put in place to prevent the wrong sorts from getting into the backup systems. Next to the gate was an industrial mechanism, missing a valve, and sure enough the found tool fit smoothly into place when Audak applied it. The goliath turned the valve, making sure not to rip this one off the wall, and surely enough the large gate over the exit lifted loudly into the ceiling.

The way forward was clear… for the moment.

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