The ARCANOMICON of Eugenium Knott-Oberholt, WIZARD

Entry 461. The fire in this cottager's hearth is just a glimmer now. I am in a strange place, far from my experiments and little sister and Nanu. It's not a very nice hut, not far from a not-very-nice bog, but it seems warmer and nicer right here by the fire, my new friends all sleeping around me, than it does in my residence in Upper Valon. Perhaps the arcane properties of Valonian ice have a chilling effect on things besides ice? Or perhaps the absence of arcane properties in a place like this makes it seem more--*real*, like they said last night? I don't know. All I know is that I feel kind of--happy?

Entry 462. Somehow I thought that being a powerful wizard, a Chosen One, or a chosen one of a Chosen One, would be easier. But it's hard to avoid dire spiders when they drop from trees on your head! I am deeply embarrassed by the failure of my spells, especially because Tamsen's seem to have been much more effective. Everyone was so busy fighting, though, that they hardly noticed. Pavel sure does know his way around a riposte strike. Anyway, I should remind myself that an arcanomicon is not a place for idle speculations as to emotional states, but a place for serious reflection on my craft and arcanoscientific observations. Let us consider, therefore, the dire spider leg:

It is 56 qubits in length when fully extended, but considerably less when its segments are allowed to fold in, as they naturally tend to do. It is covered in coarse hairs that become finer on the posterior of the leg (facing what would have been the spider's body) and that become coarser closer to the bottom, almost horn-like, even, probably so that the spider can climb (and pounce from trees on unsuspecting wizards) more easily. It is surprisingly strong, despite a rather delicate appearance, has no discernible smell, and (I did it when no one was looking) a very disagreeable taste, contrary to the culinary opinion we heard in the nearby town.