"Damn spiders."
Navigating cobweb-strewn ruins had been your past, was your present and would more than likely be your future; a regular downside of your career as a dungeon delver.
Rarely did the denizens of these subterranean, cobblestone labyrinths pose any real threat to the commoners of the surface. Nevertheless, your services were often called upon; routing Kobolds, negotiating with nettlesome Beholders, etc. etc.
With a stroke of your short sword another crop of sticky webs was cut down; they seemed fresher than the previous bunch. This current gig seemed a bit more straight-forward: clearing out an infestation of grotesquely oversized arachnids. Some standard hack-n-slashery worsened by your wholehearted hatred of spiders and bugs at large.
On the bright side, you were nearly finished with the laborious task, already coated with a fine sheen of sweat and a couple spurts of inky insect ichor.
"Fuckers," you cut into a dilapidated half-chamber that was significantly more web strewn than any of the previous, "can I get a break..."
This must've been the nest of 'Mommy Dearest', the queen bitch, an eight-legged, egg-laying freak. At least that was your suspicion.
It was quiet, bar the faint dripping of tepid water against the stony floor, the an almost inaudible whisper, "Hello?"
Nerves set ablaze, you spun on your heels and struggled to find your footing. The timid greeting was easily mistakable for a little girl's; had it been? There were two likely scenarios: 1) The spiders had cocooned some unsuspecting child and carried her to their lair for a midnight snack. 2) One of the robust insectoids could mimic human speech. The latter explanation nearly made you shit yourself, but luckily that wasn't the case; the truth was a tad unexpected.
Descending from a nest of sinewy spider silk, a set of a eight, chitinous legs slowly spun a single chord, using its tension to carry themselves downward. They belonged to a Drider, and a child no less, who appeared much more timid than she was deadly.
Instinctually you would've raised your blade at the sight of such a creature, as your occupation typically demanded, but this little Drider seemed...afraid.
She paused as each of her spindly legs awkwardly tapped against the cobblestone floor, "I know someone is t-there...Is a-anyone there?"
Was she blind? The two of you were 'standing' roughly five feet apart.
You remained quiet, sizing the little half-spiderling up.
The young Drider's hair was fashioned into a snowy, white bob, her eyes an unblinking set of cloudy gray; an extra set of almost indiscernible insect eyes flanked her primary human pair. This girl was very much blind.
"Yes, you're not alone." You spoke softly, taking a step to somewhat conceal the true origin of your voice.
Her upper-half entirely human, and resting upon a spider-like thorax, stiffened in shock, "EEP!"
Was this the source of your troubles? Surely not.
"Are you...alone?" You asked.
She responded shakily while skittering in place, "W-Well yes...No! I mean...momma left the others to take care of me...she said I needed to learn to live on my own, but I...I wouldn't be actually alone..."
Of fuck. That hissing host of large spiders you slew must've been her protectors, or pets at the very least. This child couldn't hurt a fly and most certainly wouldn't be managing an entire dungeon by her lonesome, and now you'd inadvertently ensured she was by her lonesome.
"I see. Well, do you have a name?" Of course she did, you dolt. As you questioned, you made sure to gingerly keep your distance and not reveal your exact position.
"Aoleon."
She was sweet, innocent-enough by what you could tell, but a monster nonetheless. You'd little experience in dealing with sentient monster children; surely they weren't destined for evil?
What a pickle.