"That was bloody work," Fang cursed, as his fingers which was now slick and sticky, tightened around the haft of his stained spear. The foul smelling ichor of the frost striders dripped from the tip down to the ground.
"Annoying creatures indeed," one of the scouts mumbled, his own blade coated in the same viscous fluid, his face a mask of disgust as he flicked a glob of it from his arm.
Everyone was now cleaning themselves which was messy task, as they were all spattered in the frost striders' pale, milky blood. All of them wore deep frowns of revulsion. Namaisa, in particular, was scowling in displeasure, her sharp features twisted into a snarl as she inspected the mess on her leathers.
"It's everywhere," she spat, the words filled with frustration as she wiped at her chest with a rag, she uses to clean her weapons, only succeeding in smearing the substance. "How did we just walk right into their hunting ground? I should have smelled the ambush."
"I didn't except them to be this many. We must be close to a large their nest." He raised his torch high, its flame casting long, dancing shadows that made the narrow path seem to writhe.
"We need to continue scouting down this passage before more of them find us," he pointed at the strider corpse indicating that more would be drawn by the scent of their dead." His eyes, scanned the darkness ahead. "And now we need to find out whether this path leads to an ordinary Strider queen or….."
"…worst."
"And if it does?" Talon asked, his voice eager as he wiped his axe clean on a clean patch of his own hide armor, the steel edge gleaming.
"If it leads to their queen," Fang told them all, his tone leaving no room for debate, "then we will have to burn it out. We can't let a breeding horror like that exist anywhere close to our war-band's path. "
And Arieus won't let him hear the end of it.
"And we need to see if there's anything valuable the boss would want," another krag named Goog added with a mischievous, gap-toothed, one tusk missing grin. "Even these damned things might have venom sacs worth taking."
After everyone had gotten their weapons and themselves as clean as possible under the circumstances, the smell of strider blood clinging to them still, they moved on, their steps more cautious now, and continued deeper into the darkness. Soon, the nature of the passage changed; fine, silken webs began to appear, clinging to the walls in thick sheets that shimmered in the torchlight. They reached a critical point where the path branched off abruptly into five different directions.
"Let's go right," Talon declared while pointing at the rightmost path, the one with the most webbing, the strands thick as ropes and glistening.
"Lead the way then, welp," Fang said.
Talon grunted and went on ahead, his torch held before him as the rest followed in a tight formation. After walking for what felt like hours in the monotonous, winding path as the air grew thicker with a certain scent. They finally managed to reach a vast, open space whose ceiling was lost in a canopy of darkness far above their heads.
"No wonder there were so many striders," Talon remarked, his voice holding a mixture of disgust and awe as he took in the sight.
The air in the chamber was heavy, stale, and carried the smell of decay, a scent that was emphasized by the sight before them.
The cavern was a charnel house.
"This is not good," Namaisa added, her usual confidence tempered by her assessment as she looked around, her hand resting on the hilt of her knife. "This is a larder."
"We may have to burn the entire place," one of the other krags said, his voice hushed in the immense space.
Fang nodded in agreement as he raised his torch over his head, its flame struggling against the scale of the darkness. The light it cast illuminated the web-covered walls, which pulsed with a faint, sickly bioluminescence, and revealed the dozens of wrapped-up, decaying bodies. Animal, krag, human, and others less identifiable were suspended in silken cocoons, some still twitching feebly.
"This being here and of this size, makes it more likely that there is a queen as well," Fang decided. "We can't risk it. Let's burn this to the ground and seal this abomination."
One of his more curious scouts, a young krag named Rikkar, approached one of the smaller web mounds to study it more closely. When suddenly, he jumped backwards with a startled curse as a small, juvenile frost strider the size of a rat showed itself from a tear in the silk, and swiftly scuttled away into a crack in the wall.
"Seems we have been found," Talon observed, his grip tightening on his axe, his eyes tracking the fleeing creature.
"Well then, let us not give them time to get ready for a proper reception," Fang grin was savage, one might even call it feral. He tore a bundle of the new strange ball made from rags and dry weaves dipped in the new concoction from his belt, lit it from his torch, and without hesitation, tossed the flaming brand into the nearest, driest web mound. Three of the others followed suit, their own torches arcing through the dark to land amidst the desiccated silk.
Immediately, the webbing caught fire with a soft whoosh, the flames beginning to rapidly spread, climbing the walls with rapid speed, the light now a roaring vengeful sun in the heart of the darkness. The heat was intense, pushing back the chill of death.
"Time to leave," Fang declared, his voice cutting through the growing roar of the fire.
With that, the group started to make their retreat, turning back towards the tunnel they had entered from.
Crissssss!
But, they all heard the hissing. It was a dry, like a river of sand pouring down a metal flute and it came from every direction, including from the way they had come.
"How are we going to get out?" one of the human porters asked, his voice shrill with panic, his eyes wide with terror as the shadows thrown by the fire began to dance with skittering, multi-limbed shapes.
"The way we came in," Fang replied, his voice calm despite the new arrival. "We cut our way through. Move now! No time to wait or hesitate!"
"So it's a fight then," Talon smiled, a bloodthirsty expression of pure joy as he raised his axe and, in the same fluid motion, swung at a medium-sized strider that launched itself at him from a side crevice, slicing the creature cleanly in two with a wet crunch.
"Well, isn't that something," Nasima remarked, a hint of genuine awe in her voice and eyes as she stared past the frontline of krags
Fang turned to where she was looking, the firelight glinting in his eyes, and saw a shocking sight.
A massive frost strider, basically a behemoth of its kind, came skittering down the far wall towards them, moving with an unnatural grace, for it size. An army of other, smaller striders flowing in its wake like a mass of moving living rugs. Its capsule was covered in a thick, jagged rime of frost, and the very air surrounding it shimmered with a visible cold. It had two huge, wicked-looking fangs, like polished icicles, protruding from its face, dripping with a clear venom that smoked and hissed, freezing the stone where it touched into instant patches of ice.
"A mutant," Fang's eyes narrowed as he took in the horde of striders, each one the size of a large dog, their red eyes fixed on the intruders. The light and heat of their torches and the spreading fire seemed to madden them, because they came rushing forward in a unified wave.
"Kill them all! Leave the mutant to me!" Fang roared. The human porters were swiftly shoved to the back, into a defensive pocket, as the rest of the krag forces formed a line of spear and axes and charged forward to meet the strider horde. All this was happening while the flames roared higher, consuming the large space, the heat and the stench of burning silk and corpses becoming overbearing.
He walked out calmly towards the mutant, his spear held in one arm and at the ready, was flanking his side, his entire world narrowing to the massive horror before him.
I might as well enjoy this.
Kuros.
A deep, violent red aura exploded from his spear, wreathing its blade and staff in a bloody, pulsating light. His face twisted into a savage, ecstatic grin, his tusk fully bared.
"I can't let you go now that I have seen you, mutant. A blight like you cannot be allowed to live. Don't worry," Fang let out a booming laugh that echoed over the battle. "I will make it quick." With a surge of power that cracked the stone beneath his feet, he rushed at the mutant and appeared before it in a blur, his aura-wreathed spear driving forward like a thunderbolt.
---
Talon was not really enjoying the fight. A deep, restless dissatisfaction churned in his gut, a hunger that this skirmish could not sate. These striders were too easy, too mindless of prey to provide any true test for his honed skills or the burgeoning strength in his limbs. They were fodder, not foes. He bashed one that tried to drop on him from above, his armored forearm connecting with its capsule with a crunch, sending it flying into the wall where it collapsed into a twitching heap. Almost in the same motion, he turned and smashed his axe down on another that rushed recklessly into its arc, the heavy blade splitting the creature cleanly from head to abdomen with a wet tear.
Two more, emboldened by the scent of their kin's ichor, came at him in a synchronized hissing movement. A cold predatory smile appeared on his face. He sidestepped the first, his axe a silver blur as it slashed the creature in two, its halves tumbling apart.
While his free hand shot out and caught the second in mid-leap, his powerful fingers closing like a vice around its thorax. He squeezed, ignoring the frantic scrabbling of its needle-like legs against his hands, feeling the chitinous plating crack and buckle under his relentless pressure until, with a final, sickening
Pop!
Its internal fluids burst forth, like a geyser of milky, foul-smelling gel that coated his hand and forearm. The creature went instantly limp. He tossed the ruined carcass aside with a grunt of disgust, waving his soiled hand to flick the worst of the juices away, the residue clinging in thick, sticky strands.
Too easy. It was all just too damned easy. This was not the glory or the challenge he sought. This was pest control.
He turned his gaze towards the heart of the fighting, his eyes seeking a worthy opponent, and they found Fang locked in combat with the mutant.
The air around them crackled with energy, the red aura from Fang's spear casting dancing shadows. The older krag moved with savage intensity. Each thrust and parry stoped and pushed his opponent back as a feral glee in his eyes could be seen even from here. The massive strider, met fang blow for blow, its icy fangs leaving frozen scars on the floor as they battled.
Simply, they both beasts.
As Talon thought that, he couldn't stop a grin from spreading across his face.
That looks more of a challenge for me. Why should the claw have all the fun? I think I'll be joining him.
Talon grinned, the thrill of the real fight finally within reach. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the stale air, a battle cry forming on his lips. He lowered his shoulder, muscles coiling, ready to charge through the horde of lesser creatures surrounding Fang and the mutant, to carve a path to the true battle.
It was in that exact moment, as his weight shifted forward and his focus narrowed to the mutant, that the side of the wall to his immediate left, the unnaturally hard black iron hide wood, suddenly burst inward in a violent explosion of splinters and shredded webbing.
A thick, sticky strand of web, shot out and wrapped around his torso with terrifying speed. Before he could even register the attack, he was yanked off his feet and dragged violently into the newly made hole in the wall, his torch clattering to the ground.
"What in…" was all he could gasp out, before he was taken in and disappeared into the darkness of the breach.
Namaisa, who had been keeping an eye on everyone's position at that moment, noticed the sudden disappearance from the corner of her eye and cursed.
"Erin's shit," she snarled, "the welp has gotten himself caught." She let out a sigh of pure exasperation, as her mind had a war between performing her duty and her irritation on the foolish welp.
"Well, time to do my job."
She turned to the nearest warriors. "The rest of you, keep fighting and assist the captain and kill everything moving that isn't us! Humans, stay in the middle of the formation and for Kraggroth's sake, don't move!"
With her command given, and with her torch in one hand and her curved blade in the other, she took a running start and dove headfirst into the dark hole, cursing all the while about the indignity of having to play nursemaid to a glory-hungry child.