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BingellyThe keen, verdant eyes of Clotho missed little. She beheld the greater rate by which the Macula lenses were dimmed, the owners of the linked eyes killed. The face of the old guildmaster, hardened in focus and concentration, hinting at some sort of action. By the swarm queen's calculations, the Alert Phase was nearing its end, and the next stage of her invasion would begin: Incursion phase. To be able to continue building up into an unstoppable force, the marauders would need to go on the defensive for a little while. Clotho held up her hands and issued a shrieking cry. All at once, the links connecting the Macula to the Chamber of Eyes severed, and the whole room went dark. In the dwarven outpost, the sentry bugs felt a light sting, and new from their conditioning that it was time to withdraw. En masse, the Macula began to disperse, hiding underground or simply leaving. ”It is time I took the field,” she said, and made a mental note to develop a portable link to the Macula—a sort of organic monocular, linkable to her own systems. Then she left, zooming through the dungeon until she reached the tunnels that now linked it to the dwarven village, and through them she rushed, only stopping at her alchemist's to pick up a prototype serum.
She soon found herself in a cavern beneath the outpost, heavily occupied by her own forces. The already-damp chamber, floored in some places with subterranean lake and lined with various fungus, now played home to several newly-formed Lambent hives and sported the distinctive mess characteristic of Myrmidon dens. A web of passages branched off from this cavern in nearly every direction, burrowed by the Antlions. Already, some of the surviving Macula had made their way here, but from her spying Clotho got the sense that other forces were inbound as well. At her arrival, the entirety of her arthropod swarm ceased their activities to give her their attention.
“Three Antlions. Ten Lambent. Come with me.”
Before long, the dwarven expedition was incoming. The slaves of Xallihion were not the only thing lying in ambush. When they entered the lower tunnels, they became aware of a near-constant shaking, one that seemed to be near them but never amounted to anything harmful. Determined to discover the source of the Macula infestation and new tunnels, they searched the mines for some time, split into three groups of ten as instructed. One of the parties wandered, while another chanced to head toward where Xallihion and his band lay in wait. Another mined through a thin barrier of rock and breached the tunnels made by the Antlions. Scarcely had that squad entered the unfamiliar terrain when behind them blossomed eruptions of yellow fire. Above their heads whirred a small swarm of giant fireflies, the Lambent. So occupied were the dwarves with the fliers who'd cut off their escape, that they did not notice the increasing rumbling until the ground collapsed beneath their feet, courtesy of the Antlions following them. Those dwarves not buried in the cave-in were incinerated by fire, all save for one.
The sole survivor clambered out of the pit, breathing ragged and covered in lacerations and contusions. With a mighty effort and a pained groan, he rolled onto the solid rock, and only after a few seconds noticed the being standing over him. His first instinct was to yell, but the silent, monstrous woman stood stock-still but for her eyes. The dwarf could not help but feel that he was being examined by those bright green eyes, his every secret laid bare. He panted as he stared at her, defiant. When he went to speak, however, Clotho extended her stinger from her left palm and stuck it in one of his cuts.
Immediately, her prototype toxin went to work. It snaked its way through his bloodstream and into his brain, where it began to coagulate. The chemical cocktail gnawed into the neurons and obstructed the synapses, putting him into an acute trance resembling hypnosis. Clotho spoke to him in a low, soft tone, “In a few moments, you will begin your trip back to your commander. You will tell him nothing about me or the insects you encountered. Instead, tell him that a cave-in killed your friends, which alike the new tunnels are the product of unusual seismic activity. You will do this with your full, normal level of intelligence and language, forgetting anything unusual ever happened.” The alchemist had warned her that this version of the serum was unstable, and would start to collapse within a day, leading to probable brain damage and a comatose state. ”When your mind starts to rot, end yourself quickly and painlessly, leaving behind evidence of depression. Go.”
Clotho watched the wounded dwarf hobble off, feeling small strains of pity for him. She enjoyed having power over others, but not causing them pain. The fate she'd woven for this unfortunate, brave soul was a terrible one. Sighing, she flew through the aperture and into the dwarven tunnels, sneaking cautiously through them to see if there were any other dwarves.
She soon found herself in a cavern beneath the outpost, heavily occupied by her own forces. The already-damp chamber, floored in some places with subterranean lake and lined with various fungus, now played home to several newly-formed Lambent hives and sported the distinctive mess characteristic of Myrmidon dens. A web of passages branched off from this cavern in nearly every direction, burrowed by the Antlions. Already, some of the surviving Macula had made their way here, but from her spying Clotho got the sense that other forces were inbound as well. At her arrival, the entirety of her arthropod swarm ceased their activities to give her their attention.
“Three Antlions. Ten Lambent. Come with me.”
Before long, the dwarven expedition was incoming. The slaves of Xallihion were not the only thing lying in ambush. When they entered the lower tunnels, they became aware of a near-constant shaking, one that seemed to be near them but never amounted to anything harmful. Determined to discover the source of the Macula infestation and new tunnels, they searched the mines for some time, split into three groups of ten as instructed. One of the parties wandered, while another chanced to head toward where Xallihion and his band lay in wait. Another mined through a thin barrier of rock and breached the tunnels made by the Antlions. Scarcely had that squad entered the unfamiliar terrain when behind them blossomed eruptions of yellow fire. Above their heads whirred a small swarm of giant fireflies, the Lambent. So occupied were the dwarves with the fliers who'd cut off their escape, that they did not notice the increasing rumbling until the ground collapsed beneath their feet, courtesy of the Antlions following them. Those dwarves not buried in the cave-in were incinerated by fire, all save for one.
The sole survivor clambered out of the pit, breathing ragged and covered in lacerations and contusions. With a mighty effort and a pained groan, he rolled onto the solid rock, and only after a few seconds noticed the being standing over him. His first instinct was to yell, but the silent, monstrous woman stood stock-still but for her eyes. The dwarf could not help but feel that he was being examined by those bright green eyes, his every secret laid bare. He panted as he stared at her, defiant. When he went to speak, however, Clotho extended her stinger from her left palm and stuck it in one of his cuts.
Immediately, her prototype toxin went to work. It snaked its way through his bloodstream and into his brain, where it began to coagulate. The chemical cocktail gnawed into the neurons and obstructed the synapses, putting him into an acute trance resembling hypnosis. Clotho spoke to him in a low, soft tone, “In a few moments, you will begin your trip back to your commander. You will tell him nothing about me or the insects you encountered. Instead, tell him that a cave-in killed your friends, which alike the new tunnels are the product of unusual seismic activity. You will do this with your full, normal level of intelligence and language, forgetting anything unusual ever happened.” The alchemist had warned her that this version of the serum was unstable, and would start to collapse within a day, leading to probable brain damage and a comatose state. ”When your mind starts to rot, end yourself quickly and painlessly, leaving behind evidence of depression. Go.”
Clotho watched the wounded dwarf hobble off, feeling small strains of pity for him. She enjoyed having power over others, but not causing them pain. The fate she'd woven for this unfortunate, brave soul was a terrible one. Sighing, she flew through the aperture and into the dwarven tunnels, sneaking cautiously through them to see if there were any other dwarves.
