Astor heard a crack as the elf disappeared, leaving only the sound of the ever closer fell creatures that had hunted his steps through the underground temple. As a young lad, he was trained in combat, so he knew a stance that might give him a chance to fend them off for at least a short while. Fortunately, the elf's magic had not gone with him, and Astor could see the spiders at the end of the passage, their monstrous red eyes glinting in the distance. He was able to see that there was a large host of them, perhaps dozens. He felt all of his courage fade. No man could fight a group this large. It was no use. Astor eased his stance and prepared to die. As they got closer still, he decided he might as well take one with him, so he prepared to throw the black spear still clutched in his right hand. He was just about to lose it when the spiders stopped abruptly. They were close enough to see in full profile the horrid, unseemly things they were, large fangs dripping with fluid, their body covered in spiky black fur, their legs wriggling and jostling where they stood. Why had they stopped? Astor wondered, were they toying with him or unsure of him? After all, it may have been some time since they had seen a human face.