Deep in the Gray Mist Forest.
The night was ink-black. Thick fog swirled through the woods, twisting around itself.
Inside a crevice in a cliff.
Several palm-sized cave spiders, their backs marked with vivid red spots, huddled warily in the depths of their webs in a corner. Their eight compound eyes shimmered with Ghostly Light as they pressed themselves as low as they could, keeping their distance from the glow nearby.
Orange flames danced in the fire pit, crackling and popping. The sparks that rose were swallowed before they could fly far by the damp, chilly air inside the cave.
The firelight flickered over the cave walls, stretching the shadows of several figures nearby.
Dried, blackened blood still stained the rock walls and floor. Broken bones lay scattered in several corners, and a foul, fishy stench like rotten eggs hung in the air, silently telling of a cave that had once belonged to a Goblin tribe.
"Never thought we'd find something this good in a godforsaken place like this."
The speaker was a slender figure leaning against a rock.
He had pointed ears and neat, short flaxen hair. He wore a dark green leather cuirass designed for ease of movement—the typical garb of a wood elf ranger.
Now he wore leather gloves and carefully drew a few drops of black-red liquid from the venom sac of a spider pinned to the cave wall, storing them in a small vial he carried.
"These cave spiders aren't high-level, but their paralyzing venom could come in handy."
The wood elf ranger Ailande shook the vial in his hand, admiring the strangely shifting color in the firelight. He clicked his tongue in wonder. "But what's something this good doing in the same cave as filthy, lowly Goblins? Strange."
"Hey, Ailande, save some for me