[Kransha]

Bror stood as silent and bewildered witness to a very sudden, and most unwelcome arrival as the mighty spider fell onto her newly found prey, seeking any living being out. Before the dwarves pressed on, at Bror’s signal with a ready and uplifted hand, the first deal was dealt, by the elf called Raeis as she plunged a primitive sword, pillaged from the tower, into the suddenly turned brunt of the spider’s head, her blade targeting and delving into her many glinting eyes. A vague but otherwise horrendous shriek burnt up the air and the legs of Shelob, all up and at the ready, swerved and fell on the elf and her companion, that man called Zurumor who had so earlier attempted to elicit Bror’s companionship, but received only the dwarf’s concealed bitterness in return. The legs fell swiftly, two right forelegs swiping mercilessly at Shelob’s assailants. The elf was knocked adeptly aside as she stabbed the beast, her sword cutting at one leg, but glancing off the plated musculature of the limb as if it were nothing. The elf ricocheted off towards the wall and remained there, possibly unconscious or merely recovering from the wounds received. The man, Zurumor, though, was not so lucky. As he drove his long knife through the crystalline eyes, he was heaved down beneath the spider who swept herself up over his fallen form, to crush or berate him unto his death.

The dwarf now in command had no wish, none at all, to save a man, elf, or otherwise under any circumstance, better to let old Shelob have her prey and use the given opportunity. But, the warrior’s soul beating against his chest forced him on, for now was the best chance to attack the spider, when she was thus distracted. And, deep within, behind that soul, the words he’d said to Zurumor remained. Was there any companionship, and bond between the two, as requested and beseeched? He supposed he would soon see. At the drop of a hand, and a lack of the stealth he had desired, Bror jumped and ran, galloping towards the spider with his comrades close behind. Onward they poured, the three of them all coming from different directions, but even the withered illusion of organization had vanished now as they headed towards the mistress of the dank tunnels. Bror was first, as his legs carried him more quickly then the other two, with more fervent fire and reverberating spring in his step. Soon enough, as Shelob prepared more blows against the man, Bror was able to whisk himself lithely beneath her, prepared for battle. In retrospect, it may not have been the best idea to abandon tactics altogether, considering what happened next.

Bror, shooting upward, practically leapt at the opportunity to strike as Shelob, shifting dangerously on her multiple legs and exposing a softer-looking underbelly. Unfortunately, the underbelly was encrusted by some unseen armor of the spider’s, shielding her might bulk, and Bror’s crude mace, bashing against the stony material, merely glanced and rolled off, causing Bror to stumble into the gravelly earth beneath Shelob. The spider nimbly spun above him, her great legs sliding across the ground of her tunnel and the foremost one colliding swiftly with Bror as he fell. The force of the thin but powerful limb impacting his form sent the armored dwarf careening backward madly. He landed, skidding across a stream of jagged crags until he halted on his back, panting and taking quick notice of the deep dent in the metal plate on his breast. The wind was forced furiously from him by the monster’s maddened blow, and Bror had to grope for air as he threw himself again onto his feet. He tried weakly to continue his passionate rush, but was halted by lack of breath and the lances of pain driven into him. His dully colored eyes turned upward to see Dorim make the next attack, and suddenly widened in horror.

Zurumor was free now of the spider’s grasp, rolled inadvertently to safety. But, the spider had her diminished eyes on new morsels, or victims, as it were, for as Dorim and Dwali came at her, she bore down on them immediately. Dwali was able to evade, though his shoulders and back were battered extremely and he was forced to retreat before his attack, defending himself from the many legs, but Dorim ran headfirst past the legs, towards the beast’s head. Turning from Dwali, Bror, and all distraction, she fell on him immediately, her legs striking each exposed side and her fang-filled jaws tearing open, many spiked tips of her limbs and thin protruding daggers from her head ripped into him, splitting his armor asunder and pushing him down, grievously injured. Inflamed by the sight, Bror was forward in a second, his mace discarded and his hands raised up as if to seek the spider’s blood with his fists. He ran and reached for his comrade as the spider picked the wounded husk up with her many legs to bear him off into the depth of her cave as a meal.

The dwarf, his tension released as a great weight but renewed as well, latched his grappling fingers onto Dorim’s armor as Shelob’s tendril-like legs seemed to envelope him. As the spider slid herself carefully back, Bror tugged forward on Dorim’s limp form, pulling with all his might, digits hooked around the various crevices of his kinsman’s armor. The spider, though, must’ve desired the injured dwarf for a belated meal, and fought to keep hold, her legs not in use stabbing rabidly at Bror as he attempted to wrestle Dorim from her grip. He could not release him, no matter how hard he tried, and could not eternally shrug off the assaults of Shelob as her legs slashed at him deftly while he struggled against her might. He did not care, though, if the spider slew him now, for if he fell it would be yet remembered by those who left the tunnel. If he would leave this dark passage, it would only be with his comrade, living or dead. Otherwise, he was prepared and steeled against the lethal venom that now ran, coursing hungrily through his veins and devouring the last inkling of his strength. Bror continued exerting all his Dwarven prowess, but the spider had nearly won.

Suddenly, piercing Bror’s concentration, a gleaming shaft of light surged past his head, leaving a residual whistle in his ear, and thudded noiselessly into the cesspool of glittering orbs embedded in Shelob’s head, her eyes. It was a blade, rimmed by a veiled aura that stabbed the darkness and the shroud carried by the spider. She emitted a hissing shriek from within, which jarred Bror’s thoughts. She reared back, seeming more annoyed than pained, but her provoked fury distracted her concentration as well, causing the hold of her segmented legs to loosen. Bror, who’d been welling up all his unused brawn for the purpose at hand, fell back with Dorim onto the hard stone, many jutting rocks spearing the mail on his back painfully. He ignored the new discomfort and rolled over as the spider, crying out in her wrath, crashed down onto the earth where he’d been. Hefting Dorim to his shoulder, Bror hurled himself aside and spun, gently pushing Dorim’s nearly bereft body to safety. His uninjured hand dipped down, his fist clenching over the rotten-wood hilt of one of his confiscated orcish axes. His arm surged forward and the axe soared forward over the small distance between he and the raging monster while she moved, leaping angrily across her lair. As her head turned to search for her elusive prey, the blade struck her with ease, near the mark the sword had found. At the same moment, as whatever luck lived on for the dwarves in this shadowy cavern would have it, Dwali, who’d been equally occupied by Shelob’s great legs, was able to loose his own blade into the beast, a smaller, more delicate ax in his grasp finding the same clump of sparkling eyes. As soon as this was done, Dwali, struck several times by the aimlessly flailing legs of Shelob, fell back and staggered to the tunnel’s wall, avoiding Shelob’s fiery wroth.

Roaring and screaming, a most repulsive sound, she backed up, one leg shifting to bat at the axes and bolt buried in her eyes. She had doubtless lost some, but could still see. Luckily, though, the wound infuriated enough to blind her from the actions of those around. Under the cover of her madness, Bror leapt down, wrapping his arm around his fallen comrade, and pulled himself and his companion to some safety in the shadows. She could probably see him still, but the niche he wormed his way into was small enough for her to dismiss his presence there…at least temporarily.

Now, in the shade of more damp outcroppings that were spread out overhead, Bror could see to Dorim and the source of his rescue. He looked warily upward, great care in his gaze, to see Zurumor breathing hard, knelt on the rocks far from the wailing spider, his hand and arm still raised. It had been his knife that pierced the eye so suddenly, his light borne around it. Bror’s mind knew not what to tell him, what thought to process, what feeling to report. He had saved a man, and been save in return, his friend had fallen, as had he, the spider was in retreat but yet on the move. He did not have time for these thoughts, though, for he truly had to look to his brother in arms, who was barely breathing now, blood coursing from his lips just as it was over Bror’s, both Dwarves ravaged. The dwarf beneath him was dying, injured in places to numerous to count and pained beyond reason. Try as he might, no knowledge in Bror’s mind was adequate to repair Dorim. All he could do was look emotionlessly at the other Dwarf.

The venom of the small and great spider was erupting inside him and he could do nothing about it. Dorim would not survive much longer, but both Dwarves were braced for death. But, Bror was determined to get out, or at least to a point where he could be sure Dorim would be taken from this place. If he was to die, he would die here and remain, but all else would at least see day’s light with unseeing eyes. Slowly he dragged his feet and Dorim away from the raging spider, towards the only human he could see with his blurred vision: Zurumor. But, there was still nothing in hi to drive him on, save the blasts of poisoned pain. His eyesight decayed, his flesh aflame, his head and heart pounding but feebly, he fell to his knees near the man and, with Dorim at his side, slumped onto the earth.