Beorn batted away the mosquitoes circling his head. He regretted promising Castellan Grunnhildr to take care of the bounties regardless of the generous reward. Sweat poured from his face despite the cold, he was stuck knee-deep in a bog where even moving his legs through the sludge required tremendous effort. To make matters worse, it smelled like a week-old carcass packed into a barrel and left to rot in the sun. Beorn felt even worse for his armor, getting the stink out of it would be impossible.

It all started when he entered the Gibrath Quag in search of the Arachnae. The annoying bugs had been stealing cattle from the nearby village and the farmers weren't very happy, they were a single sheep away from walking into the forest themselves.

Now, a couple of hours into the quagmire, and all he had for his troubles was a face full of spider webs, mud in his unmentionables, and unbridled hate for the damned Arachnae who refused to show themselves. He'd been romping about breaking webs and making enough noise to wake up the whole quag but nothing.

‘Can I just torch the entire thing?’

‘It won’t work Beorn. The bog is too moist.’

‘I know Wilhelmina, I wish I could be done with this bounty and move on to the basilisk… never thought I’d look forward to facing a deadly venom-spitting ten-foot-long lizard.’

'Well look on the bright side… actually there is no bright side. Please get this done quickly, I think I can smell the swamp through the brooch.’

‘Have to kill the bugs first. If I don’t the villagers are going to march in here and get themselves killed.’

Beorn brushed another web out of his way when he heard the skittering.

Finally

He immediately lit one of the torches he’d gotten from the Castellan’s armory. No point in trying to hide his presence when disturbing the web had already given it away. He wrapped his other hand around the hilt jutting from his shoulder.

Beorn heard the sound of the monster making its way towards him. But… it seemed like it was making a bit too much noise for an Arachnae-soldier. Something was off.

His instincts were setting off alarms in Beorn’s head. He perked up his ears and strained his hearing before suddenly throwing the torch into the bog and unsheathing the sword from his back. He gripped it with both hands keeping the tip in front and moved backward until he hit a tree. Beorn stayed still, pushing his senses to the limit.

Not long after, the crashing of trees grew louder, and chittering filled the quag as a black segmented leg the size of man broke through. Beorn did not wait for the rest of the monster to show itself, he immediately ducked under the fetid mud.

Beorn let loose a string of curses that startled even Wilhelmina, 'Language Beorn!'

Surrounded by the suffocating sensation of the mud he tried to calm himself down but failed, 'Those stupid villagers. That's not a normal Arachnae, that's a bloody Broodmother!’

‘What will you do now?’

‘No choice, I have to kill it and get rid of the nest. There'll be a lot more than just missing cattle if a whole brood hatch.’

Beorn rose slow and steady from the mud to expose his eyes and nose. He stood stock-still as the full monster came into view, repeating in his mind

I'm just a piece of wood. I'm just a piece of wood. Nothing to see here you ugly beast.

It was a giant spider the size of a cart. The overlapping chitinous armor glistened in the light of the twin moons, the bristles of hair covering its body swaying with the wind. Eight eyes glittering with malice sat atop its head and it clicking mandibles dripped with a glowing green liquid. Beorn suppressed a shudder.

Whatever god had decided to create a race of giant spiders with scythe-like legs that could pierce through steel armor and enormous jaws that could snap a tree, evidently felt like it wasn't terrifying enough. They also decided to give it a numbing poison that could paralyze an auroch with a single bite.

Although Beorn had fought Arachnae soldiers that were half the size before, seeing this one struck fear into the primal part of his mind. The part that told him to run away as far as possible, and not look back. Beorn crushed it and observed the monster taking long and slow, silent breaths. A plan began forming in his mind.

As the Broodmother crawled on the trees searching the area, Beorn prayed that the stink of the mud would mask his scent. The monster crawled over to where the torch had landed, its weight barely sinking its leg into the mud. As it came closer to Beorn, he tightened his grip on his weapons and tensed his legs. He was sure his hammering heartbeat would give him away, but the monster crawled over him, all the while clicking its jaws. The segmented plates of chitinous armor that covered its underbelly were directly above him. Beorn spotted a gap and readied himself. The Broodmother failed to detect anything and began to chitter incessantly, it turned around.

That was when Beorn struck.

He sprang from the mud and buried his sword up to the hilt in the monster's belly. In the same fluid motion, he released his grip and leapt as far as possible to the side. He landed on his back and stopped moving as the mud covered him again.

An ear-splitting scream emanated from the Broodmother. It would have paralyzed Beorn, but the mud covering his ears and spared him from its effects. It thrashed its sharp legs, digging into the place Beorn was hidden a moment ago. It tore apart the surrounding trees into flying chunks. One sharp sliver scratched Beorn's face as it flew by and a stabbing leg missed his stomach by a hand. It took all of his considerable willpower to stay still.

Still screaming, the Broodmother gave up after a while. It spun a web over the area and retreated into the forest.

Beorn waited patiently until he was sure he couldn't hear the monster anymore. And then waited a bit longer just to be safe. Finally deciding the Broodmother was far enough away from him he moved slowly to avoid the fine silk threads of the web. Finally, free of the web he grinned at the sight of pale blue blood smeared onto the trees.

‘Why search the quag for its nest when it'll lead us straight to it itself. Time to follow the trail, finish her off, and burn the eggs.’

‘Good riddance, we can finally get out of this disgusting place.’

Beorn slowly waded through the mud, careful not to touch the web, and retrieved his torch.

***

Beorn tracked the blood for another hour taking care to remain undetected. A stroke of luck had allowed him to find his sword in the bog before it sank beneath the mud. He wiped it on some nearby leaves, cleaning it as best he could, and resheathed it on his back.

Beorn moved through the bog with light from the stars and the moons. Trudging through the sludge and dodging the poisonous denizens of the bog was taking its toll on Beorn. Fortunately, the mud soon gave way to solid ground. With it came tall trees that all by blocked out the moonlight and a creeping mist, the webs completed the haunting vibe.

Beorn crawled onto the ground and lay on his back. He looked at the new scenery and let out a long sigh. Willing himself to move, he pushed off the ground, wiped the torch down, and made his way into the silken maze.

He didn't have to wander around for too long, a rocky cave came into view. It had torn webs and blue blood smeared around its entrance.

Finally.

He took his torch and lit it. He selected a nearby tree, right above the entrance and climbed it. Settling on a strong branch he took out one of the smoke bombs from its sealed pouch. He lit the fuse with his torch and chucked it into the cave. He cut scraps from his shirt and stuffed them into his ears and waited. It didn't take long for the smoke to start pouring out of the cave. With it came the ear-piercing screeches. Beorn smiled a nasty smile.

"Come out, come out little spider."

The Broodmother sprang out from the cave. Heartbeat accelerating Beorn jumped onto its head and thrust the torch into its eyes. They popped from the head; the smell would've been disgusting… if his nose wasn't numb from the bog.

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

Another ear-piercing screech, although it did not completely affect Beorn, some of it made through to his ears and caused his heart to skip a beat. The monster bucked trying to throw off the assailant.

It nearly succeeded; he lost his grip on the torch. He scrambled at the smooth armor and managed to find some purchase. Barely hanging by his fingers digging into the segmented armor, Beorn grabbed his dagger and plunged it into a gap. He felt a curious warmth from the hilt race into his heart, but he had no time to think.

The Broodmother grew even more agitated. It tossed and turned trying to throw him off. Beorn held on for dear life swinging from the dagger. Just as he felt his arm about to be wrenched from its socket, the monster decided to throw its back into the rocky wall.

Beorn was smashed into the hard stone without warning. The entire weight of the giant spider was behind the blow. The breath was driven from his body with the violent impact, nearly causing Beorn to lose his grip on the dagger. The world was starlight and fireflies, his lungs gasped for air. He felt a piercing pain in his chest as his links expanded. At least a broken rib maybe two.

'Beorn hold onto the dagger. It's sucking its essence.'

Barely comprehending Wilhelmina's words through the pain, Beorn held a death grip on his dagger.

Shaking itself, the spider moved to repeat the attack. Beorn recovered from his daze just in time to brace his legs against the rock. He could hear his knees creaking from the strain of the spider pushing against him. Before his legs gave out, he managed to draw the sword and place the hilt against the rock. He relaxed his legs.

The spider pushed and the sword slid into its back like a hot knife through butter. Barely managing to avoid getting smeared across the cave wall he held himself close to the spider's back.

Dumb insect

Another screech, but it seemed to lose its initial potency. It still bucked and banged itself into the trees to try and knock Beorn off. But with the extra grip of the sword, he managed to hang on. Despite being tossed around like a rag doll, he had a grin on his face. The Broodmother was weakening.

'Looked like the dagger is working'

'Hold onto it, it's transferring some of the essence back to you.'

'So that's what it was.'

After what seemed like an eternity of wrenching pain from his shoulders the struggling Broodmother finally stopped and fell onto its side. Beorn unclenched his frozen hands and fell onto the cold hard dirt. He lay there laughing, clutching at his ribs.

'I nearly got squashed. By a spider. Ahahaha.'

Wilhelmina was concerned, 'Are you alright?'

Beorn rolled over and crawled to the giant corpse. He retrieved his dagger and sword and sat for a while with his back against the corpse.

'Yes, yes, just found it hilarious.'

'Good. I was worried you took one blow too many to your head. You do have a habit of getting hit there very hard and with alarming frequency.'

Beorn rolled his eyes, 'Very funny.'

He took out a potion and drank half of it, placing the remaining back into the pouch. Supporting himself on the corpse he managed to stand up and replace the sword in its sheath. He walked to the head of the dead Broodmother.

Death had not improved its beauty, wincing Beorn plunged the dagger into the mandibles and cracked them open. He pulled it out and along came a sack of glowing green venom. He tore another strip of cloth from his tattered shirt and wrapped it and tied it to his belt.

'At least the trip wasn't completely fruitless.'

Taking up the torch, he lit it and proceeded to make his way down into the nest to burn the eggs.