Cullen overhears, not too far away, and chuckles low. "Truly, you'd have to go much further south for the real barbarians. Some of these ruffians are from closer to your homeland, Rivain and Antiva."

The spiders, though, they're all home grown, and none of them get very far into the cave before they start seeing the signs, thick webbing and dark, web lined holes leading into rock. Everyone goes more on alert, listening for the telltale click of chitinous legs and clawed feet and the sometimes eerie squeaking and chittering that the larger spiders make, whether vocalizations or something else.

It's almost too quiet. "Burn the webbing," Cullen says, his voice carrying perfectly well.