Abandon the elf to his fate

The elf's eyes meet yours for a split second and he gazes at you, panic-stricken, but you shake your head. This isn't your fight, and you don't care for elves at all, anyway. He can deal with the spider himself. Or not. The latter is probably more likely.

You're about to turn tail and get some distance between you and the deadly spider when you're distracted by a sudden whirlwind of sound around you. Your sensitive hearing overloads with the medley of sensation and you drop to your knees, covering your ears and trying to work out what's going on. Lots of long thin things are flying from every corner of the clearing, but that's all you can make out for the moment. Some of them seem to be hitting the spider. A lot of them, actually.

The **** on your eardrums finally stops and you stand up and take a look. Wooden shafts protrude from every part of the spider, which is no longer moving. Some of them have even pierced the carapace, so that rules out human and orc arrows, which are pretty feeble. You briefly consider that they might be dwarven crossbow bolts, but the shafts are too thin and the fletching is all wrong.

That means...

You feel something cold, sharp and metallic pressing against the back of your neck, and a voice saying "Stay exactly where you are."

Elves.

Fuck.