[The glass starts to crack at first under that wax hand, the lines snaking out in its own web pattern. But then the knife hits and it all shatters. The Spider closes its eye tight around the blade, hissing in pain before the room starts to rock heavily to one side before evening again.
The spiders in the pit are even worse, an uneasy squelching sound under Algric's feet on the thick web covering its entirety. There's the beginnings of a smell there, like rotten eggs and unhealthy flesh together in a pot.]
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The spiders in the pit are even worse, an uneasy squelching sound under Algric's feet on the thick web covering its entirety. There's the beginnings of a smell there, like rotten eggs and unhealthy flesh together in a pot.]