The spiders went wherever there was monstrous life. They bit whatever was in reach, tearing them completely asunder, or they trampled the goblins with their wide weighty legs. Shrill screams would always come, but they would stop so suddenly, replaced by a sharp gurgling instead, before there was nothing at all.
The goblins could no longer attack Harkin and the rest with the same recklessness that they had before. All of them were continually glancing over their shoulder, their yellow eyes tainted with fear, wary of the eight-legged executioners that seemed so hungry for goblin flesh.
"What the hell is going on?" Sol shouted, half-dead from exhaustion, managing to land an easy strike through a goblin's chest whilst it looked behind it in fear.
"Doesn't matter!" Harkin said back, beginning to resemble something like a leader. "Keep fighting and seize the opportunity!"
