Dodge Tanner’s Highly Unrecommended Travelogue - #83: Do Not Always Follow the Light.

Dodge had made many mistakes in his life.

Some small. Some large.

Many deeply regrettable.

A few he might even admit were his fault!

But this? This was a new level of poor decision-making.

Because here he was, deep in the Crystal Caverns, attempting to map the terrain—a task that, in hindsight, required far more, and somehow less, common sense than he possessed.

“Just a simple survey of one of the deeper tunnels,” Senior Wayfarer Grimshaw had said. “No danger, just unmapped caverns & pretty crystals,” they said. “Oh, Dodge, it’s the easiest job we have available!”, they had promised.

Yet now, standing in a beautifully lit corridor, watching sunlight refract in mesmerizing patterns across the cavern walls, Dodge was filled with an overwhelming urge to run.

Because he was not alone.

The realization came, as always, a second too late. Like a Sixth Sense warning him just After he did the thing he shouldn't do.

The column of light—brilliant, shifting, beautiful—was wrong.

Not natural. Not accidental. Not one of the caverns many Crystalline sun-columns.

Intentional. Precise.

A trap.

Then he saw them. Glass Funnel Spiders.

Close to a dozen, lurking within the refracted glow, indistinguishable from the crystals they crouched motionless upon—until they moved.

Dodge froze as the sunlight turned into a kaleidoscopic lightshow across the walls.

Vast, shimmering legs slid across the cavern floor, delicate yet horrifying, their many glass-like eyes catching the fractured light and sending searching beams like shattered stars.

And worse, as he turned to look for escape options? Their razor-thin webs—woven into the very crevices of the tunnels—had already boxed him in.

“Oh, come on! I am definitely putting in for a raise when I get back!” Dodge hissed, gripping his rapier with absolutely zero confidence in his ability to stab these light-based horrors.

The spiders twitched as beams of light swept over him, sensing his movement.

One advanced, its body gliding effortlessly along the cavern wall, mandibles clicking in eerie anticipation.

Dodge was trapped.

Then he remembered, and reached for his pack.

His hand mirror, barely visible in his side pouch, gleaming faintly in the cavern’s refracted glow.

And in that moment, Dodge had an idea. A very reckless, very desperate, very Dodge-like idea.

With a dramatic flourish, Dodge whipped out the mirror, waiving it high and low to interrupt and reflect the light beams back at their makers, catching the nearest spider’s gaze in a perfect, blinding reflection.

For one beautiful moment, the creature hesitated. Then—chaos.

As the Glass Funnel Spiders moved, their lights fractured wildly, bouncing between mirrored surfaces, scattering beams unpredictably across the cavern walls.

The spiders, fine tuned hunting instincts calibrated to their own carefully controlled use of light, were blinded by their own trap, thrown into momentary confusion.

One twisted mid-attack, misjudging its leap, landing directly in its own web.

Another lunged at its own reflection, mandibles clicking snapping at the glassy surface, ripping it from Dodge's hands and shattering it into a hundred reflecting pieces.

The light snapped violently across the broken glass even as Dodge's terrified war-squeaks rang out, the impressively high pitch seeming to echo endlessly among the glass and crystal of the cavern as they vibrated to his timbre.

Beams waived chaotically and fractured, scattering in wild, unpredictable directions, disrupting the careful symmetry of the spiders’ trap.

The other Spiders flinched, blinded and disoriented by the sudden, unpredictable aural and visual distortion of their carefully constructed prison.

Dodge did not waste the opportunity.

He ran.

Dodge had one rule when it came to panicked escapes:

"Don't think. Just Do. Don't just Do. Do Faster!"

Was this a tactically sound philosophy? Absolutely not.

Had it worked more times than it should have? Regrettably, yes.

And so, shield raised to protect his fleshy bits, vision entirely blocked, Dodge sprinted blindly through the glass webbing, his only goal being 'Do not become gorgeous Halfling sized Glasswear!'.

Dodge could hear the Glass Spiders behind him clicking, skittering, adjusting to the light and focusing back on their prey.... him. He smashed through layer after layer of glasslike webbing as he ran towards what he desperately hoped he remembers was the exit, the eerie chiming of glass silk cracking and snapping resonating through the cavern like a death knell.

But behind his buckler, Dodge had exactly two advantages:

He couldn’t see the horror chasing him, or the dangers ahead, which made denial an acceptable survival strategy.

His shield was now a moving target—which meant every strand of webbing was getting caught in its surface instead of in him.

He kept running, applying devastating combat squeals when applicable.

He tripped (twice).

He accidentally plowed into a crystal outcropping that he truly hoped was not loadbearing.

Then, suddenly, the tunnel opened up before him as the light dimmed and the humming and clicking stopped behind him.

Dodge stumbled forward, chest heaving, utterly exhausted—but alive.

His fine leathers were more strips and tatters than clothing. His body, anywhere not 100% protected by his lovely shield, was red with blood from a hundred hundred razor sharp abrasions. He was.... A mess. And then—he looked at his shield.

It was covered—absolutely coated—in layers of Glass Funnel Spider silk, the delicate strands woven together in mesmerizing patterns, catching the light in brilliant, refracted hues.

Dodge blinked. Turned it side to side. Admired the way it glistened like the world’s most dangerous embroidery project.

Then grinned wildly.

And that, my dearest of readers, is the story of how Dodge Tanner, armed with reckless footwork, piercing power treble, tactical blindness, and the surprising practical application of broken mirrors, almost became crystal décor, but walked away with a treasure trove of spider silk, while avoiding becoming wall art himself.

****

Glass Funnel Spiders

Visually Stunning. Undeniably Deadly. Turning light from friend to foe.

Glass Funnel Spiders: Absolutely stunning in the right light, it's unfortunate that the light around a Glass Funnel Spider is almost always wrong. Masters of illusion and light, these translucent glasslike crystalline arachnids weave webs of spun glass, refracting and magnifying sunlight deep into the depths of the Crystal Caverns. In Glass Spiders territory, the safest paths are often the darkest, as beams of sunlight illuminating the caverns may be nothing more than a carefully spun trap, leading prey straight into their grasp. Their near-transparent bodies blend seamlessly among the shimmering crystal formations, their odd glass crystal bodies diverting light in eyebeams to pierce even the darkest shadows when they hunt. Their webs don’t just capture prey—they weaponize refracted light, turning sunlight into a laser maze that forces poor adventurers straight into their webs.

By the time you realize the shimmering path ahead is not actually a convenient exit, but instead a well-lit buffet invitation it is far too late to consult your guidebook. Once ensnared in a Glass Funnel web, escape is remarkably painful and nearly impossible—their razor-thin webs cut easily through leathers and slicing flesh with every movement, wrapping victims in a delicate prism of shimmering, often bloody, silk. Their venom hardens what it touches, petrifying prey into fragile, glass-like remnants that is the Glass Funnel Spider's favored meal.

Advice: If you encounter Glass Funnel Spider territory, do not follow the light. If the crystals gleam a little too perfectly, it's because they're trying to eat you. Stick to the shadows, touch nothing, and above all—do not mistake their webs for a lovely shortcut, unless your life goal is to become a tragic centerpiece in their ever-expanding crystal collection. IF you brought a mirror with you, then toss it as an offering. Seven years of bad luck is still seven more years than you might have had otherwise!