"Thank you anyway." She tucks the slightly expanded map away. "I won't take up any more of your valuable time unless you have questions about what I shared on my last visit that I may be able to answer."

"We're importing some new alloys to play with but until they arrive can't learn much from talking. Appreciate it, though."

"You're welcome." And out she goes again.

To silvery, flowery Menegroth.

Do at least let me know you haven't been eaten by a giant spider!

Assuming I am not in fact eaten by a giant spider, I will be sure to do that. Loki goes back to the guest room, swaps dress for armor et al, and then heads out to giant spider territory.

It's right on Doriath's northern border. When she reaches the edge, a guard actually leaps down to stop her. "We call that the Valley of Dreadful Death. You probably want to go east or west instead."

"I am expressly intending to go bother giant spiders. Is it some sort of other dreadful death that gives the valley its name?"

"No. Merely the giant spiders. They're not particularly safe to bother."

"Do you have any tips on how I may most conservatively disturb them?"

"If you do it from here, you have the advantage that if several hundred of them rush you you can retreat into Doriath and we can shoot them, but we're not going to be amused and if anyone gets hurt because of a fight you provoked we're going to ask you not to come back. I'd find somewhere on the edge of the forest where if they all come at you you can get away quickly."

"Would it be more convenient if I flew a few miles away first? I don't want to inconvenience anyone else with my spider-bothering. My escape route is 'turn into a bird' and doesn't rely on having a line of retreat other than 'up'."

"Then yes, please do that."

After a while, someone comments in her head you are leaving our borders.

The forest is as dense as Doriath's; she can't really see beneath the canopy. Sometimes it does look like something is moving in the trees.

When she's a few miles away from Doriath she lands in a tree, shifts, knocks a few branches down so she'll have a clear route if the spiders are very threatening and she has to bolt, and then leaps to the ground and strolls.

There are spiderwebs visible. There are not currently spiders visible. There doesn't seem to be anything alive here.

She's travelled perhaps a hundred yards when a spider drops out of the canopy above her.

She rolls aside. "Is that how you always greet visitors?" she wonders, popping up to her feet, Lævateinn ready to get longer and sharper if it turns out it doesn't talk. Or want to talk.

It does not seem to; there's a clinking pincer-y sound and then it charges at her.

Is it smart enough to avoid a spear set against a charge? High-pommeled, so she doesn't wind up with mandibles in her face even if it runs through a few feet of weapon.