The Arachnofolk are a reclusive race of small, humanoid spiders known for their keen intellect, exceptional navigation skills, and uncanny connection to the forgotten depths of the world. Though their appearance unsettles many—part humanoid and part arachnid—they are respected and even sought after for their talents in exploration, mapping, and survival beneath the earth. Once whispered about as lurking horrors, they are now regarded as indispensable allies to adventurers and explorers.
An Arachnofolk’s upper body bears a humanoid shape—head, arms, and chest—covered in fine chitin or short fur that hints at their spider heritage. Below the waist, their bodies transition into a compact, spider-like form with multiple slender legs that grant them silent movement and sure footing on nearly any surface.
Their eyes vary in number and color depending on their lineage—some with two large, expressive eyes, others with clusters that glimmer in dim light. Their fangs are retractable, used rarely for combat but often for crafting silk or feeding.
Types of Arachnofolk are distinguished much like their spider kin:
Arachnofolk live far from sunlight, nesting in deep caves, hollow ruins, and thick forests where few dare tread. Their homes resemble woven sanctuaries of silk—delicate bridges and spiral chambers that serve as both protection and artistry.
They value harmony through distance—a philosophy that teaches avoidance of direct conflict and respect for all living creatures’ space. Every Arachnofolk knows how easily trust can be broken and thus prizes honesty and reciprocity above all else.
Leadership among them is fluid, based not on birthright but on contribution. A skilled cartographer, a silk artisan, or a lorekeeper can lead a settlement as long as they guide their kin with fairness and insight.
Once feared as ambushers and monsters, the Arachnofolk’s reputation has changed drastically. Over the last century, explorers learned that no one understands the labyrinthine depths of the world better than they do.
Adventuring guilds began hiring Arachnofolk as scouts and guides. With their “willing” help, expeditions into caves and ruins became far safer—casualty rates plummeted, and countless lost relics were recovered. This new alliance forged what is now known as the Web Pact: a standing agreement between surface guilds and Arachnofolk communities. In exchange for food, supplies, and respectful cooperation, Arachnofolk share maps, detailed routes, and even warnings of lurking dangers below.
For the first time in history, the deep dwellers and the surface folk share trust—a fragile but genuine bond.
Arachnofolk are reserved, patient, and keen observers of others. They rarely speak unless necessary, preferring to communicate through gestures, subtle clicks, or written symbols. Their loyalty, once earned, is nearly unbreakable.
Despite their cautious nature, they are curious about surface life—often collecting trinkets, sketches, and stories. They possess a quiet humor and a gentle way of teaching, weaving lessons into riddles or patterns in silk.
Arachnofolk rarely worship gods in the traditional sense. Instead, they revere The Weaver, a mythical figure believed to spin the threads of fate itself. They say every life, every journey, and every loss is a strand in the grand tapestry of existence.
To them, mapping ruins or exploring forgotten caverns isn’t just survival—it’s sacred. By charting what was lost, they help mend the broken web of history.
An Arachnofolk adventurer is often an outlier—either driven by curiosity, exile, or a sense of duty to repair relations with the surface. They are invaluable as scouts, rogues, and scholars. Those who travel above ground often wear light hoods to conceal their features, not from shame, but to avoid unsettling strangers.
Many are drawn to ruins not for gold, but for discovery. To an Arachnofolk, every ruin has a voice—and they listen.
“Every thread leads somewhere. You only need the patience to follow it.”