Spiderbit Goblin

worship Taraculus   Deep in the hushed shadows under the Incantum Forest’s tangled canopy, the Spiderbit Goblin creeps—tiny footsteps on damp leaf litter, breath held tight. A service of Taraculus’ Children, they are scouts and spies woven from cunning, fear, and silk. Their fingers are stained with venom and ink; their eyes glint in moonlight reflected off hidden webs spun between tree roots.   They speak rarely, but every whisper echoes: rumours extracted, maps traced in echoes, secrets stitched together like tapestry. When a player comes to Conferus thinking the forest safe, the Spiderbit Goblin is already there—clinging low in the foliage, listening to the crack of twig, to the soft step of boot, marking the intruder on their web so the Children may decide what to do: warn, trap, or strike. In the green, they are the pulse under the bark: unseen, vital, lethal.