Shouldn't the spiders have eaten this thing?

14 December 2006 --

We still have no idea what caused those specific families to wander under their own power into a giant spider nest. And we have only a slightly clearer notion about why we've done the same thing, but here we are. It's a nice deep hole to prevent easy retreat, and much of the floor is covered in sticky webbing, so for better or worse, here we are.

And we've already found several unfortunate folk for whom it was, well, worse. Two villagers have turned up, apparently stung to death. The wounds didn't look particularly spidery, and we soon found out why; some kind of slick-skinned, bat-winged hornet-demon (with three hyphens!) has made its lair here.

My bard's Concussion spell hit it, but failed to stun it. (I really need to learn to use it just on lowly scrub-NPCs, who can be counted on to fail the HT roll.) But in a moment of misplaced trust in my spell, Bruce's centaur rushed the thing immediately post-Concussion. She landed one good shield bash, after which it began stinging the holy crap out of her horse-abdomen and forelegs.

Then Jeff's giant-kin used his pick to land the kind of blow that had eluded Jeff for years: dead center, near max damage. Well done, my large friend. Now we just need a giant display case and a ten-foot-long pin.

Aside from the Spiders, we're all fine here!

30 November 2006-

We killed off the creepy welcoming committee and entered the web canopy, which descends from the masts of a tall ship which has somehow ended up beached far inland (the details are sketchy). Anyway, once inside, we made a beeline for the ranger's girlfriend's house, which is also the home of the entomologist wizard who sent the distress call. All were fine, and the wizard is apparently an arachnophile whose casual attitude toward a horde of pony-sized spiders enveloping the town is laid back to the point of criminal insanity. Once we all squeezed inside (it must have been snug in there with the centaur) his small house, he cheerfully informed us that he knows nothing of import about why the wards failed, nor does he seem even mildly concerned. Instead, we decided to go to the center of town, where the ship has been turned into a bar, run by the de facto mayor.

Our sprint across town was uneventful, and we made it to the bar intact, where we sauntered in and ordered drinks, determined not to be out-cooled by the locals, who seem to be taking their situation with remarkable calm. There we discovered that there is a major spider hive (oh, joy!) nearby, and that a group of townspeople headed that direction on the night the spiders took over, although we don't know if they went willingly, under duress, or even under some sort of enchantment. We also don't know if they are somehow the cause of the spiders invading the town, or if they left as a result of the spiders' invasion. As you may have guessed, however, that is our only avenue of exploration, and so we reluctantly decided that our next logical step is to head over and have a look.

My kingdom for a pulse rifle.