The snap of a twig and a yelp

You take just a couple of seconds to return to full alertness and glance around quickly, assessing the potential threat. Your finely honed orcish ears determine that the noise came from about a hundred metres away, and the source was directly ahead of you, though the dense foliage makes it harder to see the exact cause.

For now. Ranger's instinct tells you to go and check it out, and you do so. Your quick feet deftly dodge undergrowth and fallen logs and soon enough you find yourself at the edge of a clearing. There are trees all around, and a small stream on the opposite edge. There are a few tufts of yellowish flowers scattered around. There is also an enormous, bloated spider, with a legspan of at least three metres, with a shiny black carapace and enormous dripping fangs, bearing down on a panicking elf, who has stumbled and fallen, and is a few seconds away from becoming the spider's lunch.

Elves are no friends of yours. They're no friends of any orc; your race relations have always been strained at the best of times, though more often your clans are just locked in open war with the elvish Sovereignty.

But Darkwood spiders are no friends of yours either. They're fierce, yes, and this one's pretty big for its kind too, but they corrupt the natural order (these spiders apparently come from an alchemical experiment that broke free), and you've taken them on before - and won.