We followed Briarwood further into the room, his strange suit reflecting the torchlight with a strange iridescent gleam. The storehouse itself, lined with dusty crates and barrels, was nothing special… save for the… spiders. I took a breath, trying to ignore them. The air had a strange sweetness to it, like overripe fruit and copper, that only served to unsettle me further

As we neared a second archway on the other side of the hall, Briarwood paused, turning to face us. “We’ll descend from here.” He spoke, his muffled voice carrying through the helmet. “Now, tread carefully. They tolerate our presence, but Royals are fiercely protective of their nests. Try not to provoke them, and everything will be fine”

We climbed down the narrow stairway in a single file line, with Briarwood at the lead. He moved with a surprising quickness, seemingly unaffected by his bulky suit.

As we descended further and further, the environment around us began to shift. Gone were the smooth brick walls and wooden support beams, slowly replaced instead by uneven paths and rocky, web-covered outcroppings.

The moment my boots touched the floor below, there was a change in the air. A shift in the pressure, a prickling sensation at the base of my neck. We were in their space, now.

The cavern was wide, and almost impossibly tall. Glowing lichen painted the ceiling in dim blue patches. Webs draped over every surface, barely lit by bioluminescent fungus above. It was a monstrous spider’s cathedral, the vastness both awe-inspiring and profoundly unsettling.

"Behold!" Briarwood proclaimed, spreading his arms out triumphantly with an odd reverence in his voice. "The heart of the Queen's Cellar!"

Behind Anya and myself, I could hear Moitz offering a murmured prayer under his breath, although I could not hear the words. As he did, my eyes were drawn upwards, only to freeze me in place yet again.

Absolutely massive spiders, their abdomens the size of barrels, clung to the highest webs. Quietly staring down at our intrusion.

These were the true Royals.

While they didn’t move, their presence alone was enough to give us all pause. Below them, scuttling with horrifying purpose, were yet more spiders. Smaller relative to the titanic specimens above them, yes, but still much larger than was comfortable. And these monsters were far more than just large- they displayed both speed and strength far beyond what their bulbous bodies suggest. My skin crawled at the sight, and I had to resist the urge to reach for a weapon.

Anya, to her credit, seemed less disturbed. Perhaps she’d faced this scale of threat before, or maybe familiarity from her classes led to some immunity to the horror. But I wouldn’t have imagined my first assignment ever being this… overwhelming.

Briarwood also stared upwards at the spiders above, his arms crossed with an almost… concerned look on his face.

“...Something’s bothering them. They're not usually this active..” He paused. “Maybe there’s a storm coming…”

Trailing off, he shook his head, gesturing us to follow him to a side passage partially obscured by webbing. “But it’s no matter. Let’s address the topics of your inspection.”

The three of us followed behind hesitantly as he led us yet deeper. The further we walked, the denser the webs became; until we were no longer walking on stone, but a taut, sticky carpet of silk. The smell of rotting sweetness seemed to only grow stronger as we continued, the air thick and heavy.

Briarwood paused suddenly after entering another large room, looking up at a monstrous, bulbous cocoon suspended from the ceiling, writing back and forth as if from some unseen breeze.. With practiced motions, he reached out and sliced a section free with a hooked knife. Peeling it away, the interior was revealed: thousands of tiny spiders, glistening like milky pearls.

A nursery.

I barely managed to keep myself from gagging at the sight.

"Beautiful aren’t they? Such little darlings…" Briarwood said, a strange smile crawling across his face. "Now, this way if you please.” He gestured to a passage to the side.

Again, with even more trepidation, we followed. The passage he led us through was lower, forcing us to duck our heads down as we walked. The webs grew so thick that stray strands began to snag against our uniforms, however Briarwood continued on unimpeded. My breaths slowly became shallow, the cramped path and the webbing licking at my arms driving my anxiety ever higher.

From behind me, Anya and Moritz seemed equally uneasy. Anya's crisp movements had become jerky, her daggers gripped tightly. Moritz's prayers were less a whisper and more a mumbled mantra, his every movement hesitant. Briarwood, however, seemed completely oblivious to our discomfort.

"Apologies for the cramped quarters," he said, his distorted voices echoing off the cavern walls. “But this side passage will take us past all the larger royals, and to the Queen’s chamber. She prefers her privacy- quite shy, you see.”

My stomach clenched. With trembling hands I pulled out my journal and pen.

The passage abruptly widened into an incomprehensibly large chamber, a proverbial throne room woven of silk, that continued as far as the eye could see. Strands of silken thread stretched from floor to ceiling, crisscrossing into a chaotic lattice, spreading outwards into the distance, like a pale forest..

And at the far side, silhouetted against more of that eerie blue fungus, was an utterly enormous sight..

Eight great limbs, thicker than tree trunks, lifted a massive egg-shaped body above the ground, casting dim shadows across the entire chamber. Each leg ended in a vicious hook that sent shivers down my spine. Countless eyes glinted from the shadowed bulk of its head. Its entire body pulsed gently, a slow, rhythmic heaving of its immense abdomen.

The Queen.

“Lilly!~” Briarwood stepped forward, bowing his head. “We’ve got guests!”

The Queen turned to face Briarwood, and brought her head down to his. Her glassy eyes met my gaze momentarily, and in that split-second I could feel her cold intelligence appraising the others and I.

“Lilly?” Anya scoffed indignantly from behind me. “You named it?”

Briarwood chuckled, “Of course I named her! I mean, isn’t she beautiful?” He approached the queen. “They’re more cooperative than most would believe, really. Respond well to a steady hand and a little affection…” He trailed off, gently stroking one of The Queen- Lilly's legs.

Anya’s hand drifted down to her dagger, staring at him with a burning scowl. “Affection? They’re monsters, not pets…”

Carefully, I wiped the sweat from my forehead before trying to return my focus on the task at hand. I quickly began noting the features of the chamber. Mapping out the placement of webs, support beams, any other notable features - Lilly herself included.

Moritz remained near the entrance, gazing into the shadows. His silent stance exuded a keen alertness. He kept one hand near his mace, ready to jump in to defend any of us if the spiders were less friendly than advertised.

"You see!" Briarwood exclaimed, "Lilly doesn't mean any ill will! It's all about balance, control..."

He reached out and with a surprising jolt of speed, snatched one of the smaller spiders from the ground. It hissed and squirmed, tiny jaws clicking in protest. He held it up for our inspection, as if presenting a new puppy. "See? A bit feisty, but ultimately harmless."

He carefully placed the creature back on the floor, and it scurried off to rejoin its brethren. "As long as we respect their space, all is well. It's a mutually beneficial-"

His words were cut off by a bloodcurdling scream that echoed through the chamber. Everyone's eyes snapped to the Throne Room’s entrance, even the Queen lurched upwards to look. Another distant cry of raw terror flowed down from the passage, followed by a sickening wet thud.

Briarwood swung around suddenly, and Moritz jolted into action. “Stay close!” He shouted before hefting his mace, and charged towards the sound.

Briarwood dashed after him cursing, with Anya and I following behind. “What in the blazes? Who dares-”

“Are there any other entrances?” Anya asked as we pushed forward, the cavern walls becoming a blur.

“Just one. There's a side entrance, a ventilation shaft of sorts. It's rarely used, the spiders seal it up from the inside-" We caught up with Moritz at a split in the path. Without a word, Briarwood continued ahead and led us down another web covered passage. The air grew thicker, the sweet rotting smell nearly overpowering.

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As we rounded a bend, the scene of the incident finally came into view.

Moritz stood over a figure sprawled on the ground: a man dressed in worn leathers and travel gear. A pool of glistening liquid, tinged sickly green, had begun to spread around him. His mouth was frozen in a silent scream, and his limbs thrashed in what appeared to be a desperate, uncoordinated struggle.

Three of the mid-sized spiders stood near him, chittering maliciously at the man. One stood a distance away huddled against the wall, one of its legs missing and leaking the same green fluid

Briarwood paused as he saw it, before reaching for his belt, pulling out a small cloth bundle and approaching the wounded spider. Carefully he reached out for the spider’s severed limb and began to staunch the wound with a silk bandage. The creature stood oddly still, presenting its injured leg for Briarwoodas if it completely trusted him. Behind him, the strange man’s thrashing suddenly stopped, and he lay eerily still.

Moritz and Anya rushed to the man’s side and knelt beside him. Moritz scanned his eyes over him for a moment before looking up at us

“Anya, what kind of venom do Royal Spiders have?” He asked.

“Uhm, that depends on the variety.” She looked over at the wounded spider that Briarwood was currently soothing with a gloved hand. “Briarwood, what can you tell me?”

“This little lady-” He paused. “-has paralytic venom. It seems that man was oddly resistant to struggle for so long.”

“Paralytic? So he’s not going to die from it?” Anya asked.

“Most people bitten survive.”

Moritz crouched beside the paralyzed man. With a surprising gentleness, he inspected the man’s arms, turning them over. On one of his forearms he found a pair of puncture wounds, presumably the spider’s bite.

"We have to help him." Anya said. "Briarwood, you said the paralytic isn't fatal. What can we do? Is there a treatment?"

“I said most survive. Usually, the spiders are quite good at gauging how much venom to use. However, he-” Briarwood pointed at the man indignantly as he stood, the spider he was treating limping out from behind him. “-Scared her. Honestly he’s lucky to still be breathing. Though Probably not for long.” he spat.

“Is there anything you can do to help?” I asked. “He’s going to die if we don’t do something!”

He turned to face me, glaring through his helmet.. "He should have thought of that before trespassing, don't you think?"

In an instant, Moritz suddenly appeared between us, staring down Briarwood with an anger I've not seen from him before. “And what if he just fell in here?! He could have just accidentally wandered in!”

“Bullshit, he did!” The dungeon warden snapped back, pointing down the tunnel. “That entrance was sealed!”

“It doesn't matter how or why he’s here!” Moritz shouted over him, voice bellowing through the chamber. “What matters is right now, a man is dying in this dungeon, in the middle of an inspection, under your watch!”

His head shot forward, face nearly pressed against Briarwood's helmet. “Now are you going to help them, or not?!”

The two glared at one another for a long moment, neither backing down. Finally, Briarwood sighed, resigning with gritted teeth.. “Fine. We’ll play your game.”

Stiffly, he moved over to the prone man while pulling a stoppered vial from his belt, before unceremoniously pouring the liquid into the man’s mouth. “One of you; massage his neck. He can’t swallow on his own. Then we’ll carry him back upstairs.”

----------------------------------------

Carrying the man up the tunnels and stairs was hardly an easy task. Moritz, determined as he was, took the lead. Anya and I followed, our movements awkward as we tried to move the surprisingly heavy man without causing any further harm. Briarwood trailed behind us, his helmet bobbing with each step, grumbling under his breath.

We eventually reached the dusty storehouse from earlier, and Briarwood pushed open the door into the uppermost floor of the dungeon where we had first met. As we stepped inside, the spider themed decor seemed to stand out a bit more than before.

“Lay him on the coffee table.” Briarwood barked, pointing towards a long table in the lobby.

We gently lowered the man onto the table. His face held a mask of fear frozen by the spider's venom, his eyes fixed on some unseen terror. The sickly-sweet odor that clung to him filled the room, overpowering the smell of old paper and dust. Briarwood stood aside, still wearing his protective suit.

“I’m glad he’s at least not in any pain. I can’t imagine how that spider bite feels.”

Briarwood cleared his throat. “That’s actually a misconception. This venom simply results in loss of motor control. Unlike other varieties, it doesn’t dull the nerves.”

“Is there anything you can do?” I asked.

He glared at me for a moment before sighing. “Fine.” Briarwood crossed to a set of shelves in the corner, his movements sharp, and snatched up a decanter. "This should make him more…" He paused, searching for the right word. "…comfortable."

He poured a generous portion of amber liquid into a glass and unceremoniously forced it between the man's unresponsive lips. Some of it spilled down his chin, darkening his scruffy beard.

"Whiskey?" Anya remarked, raising an eyebrow. "Not exactly premium medical treatment."

"It'll dull the pain." Briarwood grunted.

"Now… we wait."He slumped into one of the overstuffed chairs in the lobby, crossing his arms.

The room was silent after that, the only sound being the shallow raspy breaths of the paralyzed man. I shifted on my feet awkwardly, glancing around the room randomly. Moritz stood next to the door, alternating between looking concerned at the unknown man and staring daggers at the seated Warden, while Anya crouched next to the table.

Time slowly dragged on as Briarwood tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. With my journal and pen in hand I attempted to take notes about what I had seen throughout the tour, but I couldn’t seem to focus. A sense of dread had been carving a pit in my stomach.

Finally, the man began to stir. As groans escaped his lips and his fingers twitched fruitlessly, his eyes snapped open. I watched as a new look of terror pulled across his face and he struggled to look around.

“Easy, easy-” Moritz said, stepping forward. “You’re safe now.”

The man's eyes darted wildly around the room, finally fixing on Briarwood. He recoiled, a scream bubbling up but only voicing a panicked gurgle. He thrashed against the table, nearly falling off if not for Anya’s help.

Briarwood blew a sigh through his nose, exasperated. "Really, must you carry on like this? It's the venom, likely made him a bit… excitable."

“V-v-venom…” The man sputtered, barely audible above his wheezing, “The s-spiders…”

“Yes, yes. Now, calm down.” Briarwood said with a flippant handwave. “These charitable inspectors and warden here brought you up from the cellar. You’re… safe.”

The man slowly stopped struggling. The silence crackled with tension. Anya knelt beside the coffee table. "Sir…can you hear me?"

The man blinked slowly, his eyes flicking from Anya to Moritz to Briarwood, fear dancing behind his eyes.

“Can you tell me your name?” She asked.

His lips moved soundlessly, and after a few agonizing moments a whisper escaped. “E-Ethan..”

“Ethan,” Anya repeated, “Do you remember what happened?”

Ethan made a visible effort to focus. "s-s-spiders…" he rasped, his voice a mere thread. "s-so many… f-fell…" A shudder racked his body.

Moritz frowned. "Fell? You fell into the cellar?"

"e-entrance…" Ethan's eyes darted towards the doorway. "h-hidden entrance…"

"The ventilation shaft." Briarwood interjected, the condescending smirk evident in his voice alone. "The one I told you about. You know, the one sealed off by the spiders?"

Ethan flinched, his gaze darting back to Briarwood, who leaned forward in his chair. "Intriguing. And what, exactly, were you doing, poking around a hidden entrance? Not a bit foolish for a… simple passerby?"

Anya rose to her feet, placing a hand on Moritz's shoulder as if to restrain him. "Sir, were you traveling alone?" she asked, her tone gentle but firm.

The man hesitated. It seemed he was struggling to form a coherent thought. "n-no… there were… o-others."

Briarwood scoffed. "Of course there were! A band of treasure-seekers, no doubt. Tell me, Ethan, what riches did you hope to find down here?"

Ethan's eyes widened. "T-the spiders…" he croaked. "They said t-they’d pay a f-fortune…" He coughed wetly, a pained gasp escaping his lips.

“They said… Who said that?”

My eyes darted between the two of them, concerned. Something is wrong here, he’s being too forthcoming. What was in that antivenom?

Anya and Moritz exchanged worried glances, but Briarwood… his stillness was far more menacing than an outburst would have been. With deliberate, slow movements, he stood up from his chair. His towering stance almost resembling the predatory stature of the spiders around us.

Ethan cowered on the table as best he could, his eyes impossibly wide. "P-please…" he rasped, "I-It wasn't my idea! They… they told me the spiders w-would be docile. T-that it would be easy!"

Briarwood loomed over Ethan menacingly "Who are they? Who would dare to hurt my darlings!”

Ethan swallowed hard, glancing nervously towards us.

Briarwood's gloved hand shot out around the man’s throat, pinning him against the table with surprising force. "Speak! Who sent you?!"

The moment he shouted, hundreds of tiny spiders flooded out from the floorboards and began to criss-cross the walls. Moritz recoiled from the doorway as the monsters came flowing in from the other room. Anya jumped up from her knees and her hands shot towards her sheathed daggers. My heart pounded as the room seemed to close in with the skittering steps of the spider swarm.Briarwood’s grip on Ethan only tightened, eliciting a strangled choke in response.

As he loomed over the man, his entire form seemed to darken, shadowy wisps crawling across his clenched fingers like smoke. The room grew cold and stagnant, the rotting smell growing overpowering.t

The Warden shouted once again, his echoing voice sounding distorted, almost… inhuman.

“Names, coward! Who seeks to steal the fruits of MY LABOR?!”