--No doubt about it, this was his destination. If the miners hadn't stumbled upon this spider lair, they never would've fallen victim to such a wretched end. Funny how it's the little things in life that matter... Like giant arachnids. Staring into the pitch black, Zarak couldn't help but wonder how deep the chasm was. He grabbed a miner's helmet off the ground and tossed it in. He listened, waiting for it to hit the bottom. He waited. And waited... After a while, he gave up. The only thing he learned from this query is that he had better not fall. The deep was now calling to his restless mind, pulling him in. Nevertheless, he strapped his rope around the beams and steeled his resolve. The descent into the beast's lair had begun. As he rappelled along the cave wall, he strained his senses to spot his prey. Thick webbing was attached to the wall on one end, with the other end disappearing in the darkness. His left hand waved the torch around to try and get a better view of his surroundings, while the right one clutched the rope. However, he saw nothing. And the only thing he heard was the rope scraping against him. He could feel the friction burns on his hand, even through his leather glove. It was at least fortunate that the cavern wall was relatively flat, and dry, making rappelling somewhat easier.

--A spit of web suddenly smacked his left arm, binding it to the wall. The sudden shock knocked the torch right out of his hand. The torch went out on its way down, and Zarak was now frantically jolting in the dark, trying to free himself. With the third pull, his arm came loose, but he spiralled out of control. Another spit of web grazed him, with a slurry noise as it flew through the air, barely missing him. His grip on the rope was lost.

--Zarak felt weightless as he plummeted, head first.

--His sword slipped out of its sheath, vanishing in the abyss.

--A rock that jutted out of the wall broke as his body flew clean through it.

--His ears were ringing. As he was flying blindly into the deep, he felt the rope brushing against his legs. He squeezed them, trapping it in between. The drop was steadily halted. His heart felt as though it was about to burst out of his chest and his breathing was accelerated. His head was pounding. Regardless, Zarak’s mind was as calm as a still life. His eyes couldn’t see anything, but he found the rope once again with his hands, by tapping around. He pricked up his ears. He was clearly no longer the hunter in this game of cat and mouse.

***

--As he repositioned himself to continue the descent, he found that he had stopped his fall about a meter short of smacking into what seemed to be the cavern floor. Both feet on the ground, he held a low posture with his right hand in front of him, in a vague defensive gesture, as the other one reached into the purse on his belt to pull out a box of matches. Feeling an intangible sense of urgency, he lit the match immediately, rather than searching for another torch. This turned out to be the right decision.

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