Harruq swung Salvation wildly, hoping for similar results. Instead, a great impact sent his sword flying from his hand. Unarmed, the half-orc had no option but to crawl away on his back.

“I so hate spiders, I so hate spiders,” he said repeatedly.

Haern watched the shifted pattern in the tarantula’s spinning. It was incredibly quick, the spikes on its legs deadly, but it was still just an enlarged version of an unintelligent animal. The spin, which worked against all enemies it encountered in the natural world, was all it knew. The only change was the equivalent of a limp due to Haern’s cut. The assassin danced in and out, his sabers slashing. Another chunk of leg flew across the room. The giant tarantula was vulnerable.

He leapt high into the air and landed atop the spider’s abdomen. Both sabers pierced through the tough exoskeleton and into the slender heart tube that ran through its center. The spider rocked back and forth in its dying throes. Haern flipped away. Harruq rolled and crawled, desperate to evade the flailing legs. The spider’s loud screech rose higher and higher. Still spinning, it charged at random, smashing into walls until in one sudden convulsion it shriveled its legs underneath itself and died.

Harruq stood, frowning at the gunk covering his armor.

“That has to be the most disgusting thing I have ever seen,” he said. Haern, also covered with ichor, chuckled and pointed at the half-orc.

“I have to agree, but where did you find a mirror?”

“Ha ha ha. Shaddup you.”