You're not as squeamish about spiders as most folk, so you start batting your torch through the strands and push your way down the passage. The going's easier than you expected, if perhaps dustier. You keep a cautious eye out for spiders, but don't see even one.
As the path begins coiling more sharply downward, you step into an atrium that presents several more tunnels and crawl-ways. It might be prudent to break out the chalk and begin marking your progress.
Reaching into your pack, you feel someone tap you on the shoulder. You shout and jump high enough to just miss clipping your head on the ceiling.
"Greetings, stranger!" says a feminine voice.
You whirl and face exactly what you'd expected: a creature that's half girl and half spider. The arachnid portion is cobalt blue, its hair shining under your torchlight as the six legs dance a little jig of excitement.
The girl part, angling up from the pedicel, presents plenty of bare flesh. She's wearing a bandeau drowning in silver baubles that leaves her navel and arms free, and you can't believe you're noticing this detail in the face of a possible attack... but the smile and lack of any threat display calms you down. Her black hair is woven into an involved mop and secured with lengths of silk, fringe raked back from her forehead to expose the six simple eyes that are the only spiderish touch to her face. Her regular human eyes are blue, but glow red from your torch. You puzzle over the contrast.
"Shouldn't you have eight legs?" you ask her, keeping your cool.
"Well..." says the spider girl, waving her arms. "These count, too. My name's Phoebe."
"Of course it is," you say, eyes closed under an arched brow of disbelief. You introduce yourself.
"It's not often that humans wander down through all the lovely silk to pay me a visit," says Phoebe. "When they do, they're always looking for treasure. I then promptly tickle them to death, for their effrontery."
"You TICKLE them?" you ask, voice cracking on a high note.
"To death!" Phoebe affirms, raising her arms menacingly and showing all of her teeth. Her incisors look longish. "No, not really. That is, not 'to death'. Just until they agree never to waste my time chasing after trinkets, when a cordial visit to my lair is much more rewarding. Sad to say, I've never had anyone call a second time."
"Haven't any of your <ahem> 'visitors' tried to tickle you back?" you ask her.
"They'd be mad to attempt such a thing!" says Phoebe, elated with the suggestion.
"Phoebe, I have to admit..."
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