Victoria had something of a fit when I explained the information we had received about the elf raid to it. It all but demanded that I immediately direct the construction of another nursery and fill both of them with new guards, and with the colony managers it had described. We managed to fit all three managers and fifteen guards into the current nursery, and I was hesitant to build another just yet.
The guards it recommended were designed as generalists, with six black scaled, vertebrae like tentacle limbs, each a meter long and tipped with clawed simian hands. A meter tall, half meter wide central torso shaped like a bird egg housed their organs and was split into two halves by large, serrated toothed mouths. A pair of stalks tipped with translucent globes acted as their visual, auditory, and olfactory sensors. Thin armor and flexible limbs made them quick, but vulnerable. They were also quick to incubate and consumed comparatively little nectar. Their most interesting aspect was the ability to secrete a clay like, waxy red gel that they could shape into numerous tools and weapons. Anything from spears to shields to shovels could be shaped from the sanguine substance, then hardened into a light, porous creation as hard as bronze.
Victoria suggested that it take the burden of these children’s links when they hatched. My children could apparently shift primary broodlink nodes to other management creatures, allowing the advisor to sense through and direct its less intelligent siblings.
I tried to shift Bolt’s link to Anna, but it couldn’t hold the information torrent and the broodlink snapped back to me. Anna apparently enjoyed the experience, but found it very strange to be locked into a single viewpoint.
The first manager that hatched was the supply supervisor. It was a fairly small and fast flying creature, a squirming mass of tentacles and dark scales with six iridescent, birdlike wings and a large and varied array of sensory apparati. It was intended to work between several close complexes and colonies, cataloging and optimizing the logistics of running each village. It had an overpowered transmission lobe that allowed it to relay data to a central authority without causing a drain on stamina. Its receiving cortex was of normal size, though, so two way links were still costly.
The manufacturing and construction supervisor was a lithe quadruped with no head, a thin torso, and twelve mucosal eyestalks arranged in pairs along its black shelled body’s length. It used the long proboscis that protruded from its front end to probe and repair structures. Light on its hooves, it could climb vertical glass surfaces with no issue, and jump ten meters in a single leap. It could use ground penetrating echolocation to decide on structural shapes and materials, was adept at guiding small scale sundries production, and had a good database of common alchemical preparations and enchanting glyphs, though we would need to gather rare reagents to use most of them.
The breeding manager ended up being a winged orb fifteen centimeters tall with no features aside from its four dragonfly-like wings. With an amorphous main body, it was able to glow brightly green via a bioluminescent chemical in the capillary veins of its transparent epidermis. The whole creature was nearly invisible when not glowing, and the texture of its skin acted as a baffle to echolocation. Scentless, silent, and exothermic, it was basically untraceable when it wasn’t glowing. The supervisory techniques within its archives were formulated to apportion the resources supplied by a logistics governor to the needs of the manufacturing and combat managers, then send back collated data and future growth predictions to the logistician.
The construction supervisor wanted to be called Amari, the breeding manager was Harold, and the logistician would be Lain. The guards weren’t fully sapient, and expressed little preference toward names. Victoria suggested that until they developed their latent personalities and could decide for themselves, they should be given temporary designators. As a group, we decided on the first fifteen letters of the ancient Greek alphabet, from Alpha through Omicron. If we decided to hatch more, we would extend the designation scheme through the rest of the letters, then move on to other alphabets.
The hexadaunt guards were gregarious, playful children, and spent most of their free time roughhousing, sculpting, and investigating the colony and its surroundings. Apparently this was an intentional design choice, allowing them to grow through experience with their bodies and organic crafting materials, and to easily recognise the specifics of the area they were tasked to guard.
Victoria spent some of its afternoon and early evening drilling the hexadaunts on solo and group tactics, first letting them try various tasks like charging, dodging, and holding positions, then showing them how to use those tricks together to defend the colony more effectively. The tactician also did some training with the pinecrabs, aciditos, and snikes, but that was more a matter of getting them used to specific actions than general training. For example, the pinecrabs were taught to march in formation and volley together on a cue. The snikes were taught to focus on smaller, faster targets before larger, slower ones. The aciditos were made to dive swiftly and bounce away from a target while releasing acid on the rebound when landing wasn’t safe.
Jasper was a bit of an outlier. Non-sapient, it was by far the strongest of any of my combat capable brood. It didn’t really fit into the rest of the strategy, however. Victoria’s best plan was to have Jasper target anything on the edges of an enemy force during a melee, picking off larger opponents while remaining somewhat apart from the main flow of battle. Its dark shell and lack of distraction organs meant that it would be useful as a command killer as well, as long as commanders could be identified. Jasper wasn’t really capable of discerning that sort of thing by itself.
One interesting development around the new arrivals was their type. Instead of “abomination, minon,” they carried the designation of “abomination, leader, vassal,” and were first level. When a minion’s broodlink was transferred to one of them, the minion would drop to first level. Additionally, it seemed that the mite swarm Otto was an “abomination, vassal” as well, without the leader type. This was both useful and harmful, as my increased level granted my children more health and stamina, but Victoria could hunt and level up much more quickly than I could.
So that was what it set out to do. Victoria first gained the scan skill, brought it to level three, and then marched into the forest with five hexadaunts with shields and axes as back up. It made sure to scan each creature before approaching and to only attack creatures leveled five or below. With Otto (who also gained the scan skill) and Probe acting as scouts, the team was more than able to avoid the few higher leveled stags and elephant birds in the area.
Victoria’s combat technique consisted of trapping and then skewering its opponents. Deftly weaving its arms, it would knit a tethered net with its spinnerets and needle tipped arms, then hurl the sticky webbing at a target. Reeling the unfortunate beast in, it jabbed its needles lightning fast into the head or chest, trying to end the prey in a single strike. In the few cases where a doe or giant tree lizard fought back, Victoria would leap and dodge to one side, then pounce on the target from above.
Only once did the hexadaunts need to get involved. When Victoria dodged away from one doe’s hoof jabs, it landed on the web of a giant trap door spider. The nearly two meter long arachnid leapt from her burrow and tried to grab my mantid commander. Victoria managed to evade the grab, but with two fairly potent foes bearing down on it, the situation would have been difficult to salvage alone. Five heavily armed soldiers, however, changed the odds significantly. Wearing their shields on one arm, and wielding their massive axes in three, the hexadaunts charged from the undergrowth and slew both creatures before they could turn.
“Sacred Master Nest, I have gained the class Sergeant, due to commanding five fighters in combat,” Victoria sent. “My toughness, processing, organization, instinct, and charisma have risen by two points each. I have a selection of talents available, would you like a list?”
“No, I trust you to make your own decisions. What do you think we’ll need?”
“Emboldening Presence or Steadfast Positioning. I believe that Emboldening Presence would be best, as it is a general enhancement to damage given and resisted by combatants under my command, while Steadfast Positioning is only useful during defensive sieges.”
“Sounds great. Are you going to keep hunting through the night?”
“Yes, sacred master.”
“Alright, just keep us posted on anything you need.”
-----
While Victoria was hunting, the rest of the leadership and I were planning the next phase of our defenses for the upcoming raid.
Amari was going over the alchemic products we could concoct in the short time we had remaining. Weak healing potions and mild strength stimulants were cheap and simple to make, while salves of flame or frost resistance were more complex, but still doable. If we could take down another adult power hog, its lightning mana gland would allow us a small amount of a potent movement and agility boosting resinous incense.
Harold and Lain were discussing the costs and benefits of producing another nectar tower, and how many more children we could afford to feed. If the spring didn’t slow down, we could sustain three more nectar towers, or two nectar towers and up to two more tiny nurseries. The third option was to create one new nectar tower and a small nursery, but the growth times of the creatures born from a small nursery were long enough that we couldn’t be sure they’d be hatched in time for the raid. Unfortunate, really, because the thirty by thirty by thirty meter growth space could have allowed for a very strong baby.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
The palisade was complete, and we were working on a deep escape tunnel. Harold and Louise had also successfully advocated for a second defensive structure around myself, on the grounds that none of them could establish broodlinks with the newly hatched, so the colony would be doomed if I were lost. I conceded the point, with the caveat that the escape first tunnel’s entrance was built away from my position, so that the rest of the noncombatants in the brood would be less noticeable if they had to run from an unwinnable battle. Better that they have the chance to live out their lives in peace than forcing them to die protecting me.
We also discussed building a hidden outpost elsewhere. Dick, or another nectar transfusion creature, could be made to mutate into an immobile colony node. It was decided that we would establish an underground or undersea base as soon as time permitted, and research was started into what nectar source might be best for such a base to function from.
The hexadaunts were tasked with sculpting spears and atlatl to throw them with, in case additional ranged combat was needed. The marrow clay in the spears was supplemented with stones from around the spring’s edge; this allowed for more weight at the point of impact. The hexadaunts carefully scraped the edges of their spear blades, sharpening them against the hardened lizard stone.
Short wooden stakes were placed into the trench surrounding the palisade, and longer ones were being constructed to act as a dissuading fence beyond that. The towering build-rats were acting as lookouts when their adhesive mucus wasn’t needed. Nothing large or dangerous approached the village for most of the night.
However, about two hours before sun up Roscoe and Bolt spotted elfs in the woods, approaching the north-western wall of the palisade. Ten or so, though they were unsure of the exact numbers; the elfs were making a point of being stealthy.
I sent a message to Victoria, telling it of the incoming group and directing it to return. It had ranged far, though, and would be returning from the west, so even if the battle was still ongoing when it got to us it would be most effective in a flanking attack.
Francis was directed to warn the oncoming elfs that we would fire on them if they approached any closer. Their answer was a volley of arrows, several of which nearly struck the transparent wasp from the sky. It was able to dodge everything fairly well, as none of the shots were aimed perfectly.
The elfs grouped up and ducked behind some trees, then one of their number who carried a crystalline spetum raised her weapon in one hand and tossed a powder over the group with the other. They then spread out and began moving toward us once again.
I directed Pop and Bam to fire two shots each, targeting the treeline short of the elfen position. Screaming through the air, the paired shots arced a high, steep angle into the night sky, then lanced down to land in the brush and leaves beneath the canopy. Enormous cracking thuds and a scattered patter of stone and soil raining back to the ground followed.
The elfs weren’t dissuaded by the shots. Instead, the six visible wielders of hand to hand weapons started charging at our palisade and the four known archers launched arrows from their massive, vine strung bows on ballistic trajectories into the colony. The surface of the nectar mushroom stopped the majority of the shots, and the few that got through plinked off of my Fortress Scale and the shells of my defensive children.
The moartoads launched fusillades of pollyrockets against the aggressors. The rapid fire explosions sprayed stone and dust against the palisade, but the elf archers kept up their shots. Somehow, the blasts were being deflected a few meters above their heads, skewing off into the forest behind them. There was a two meter dome of clear air that no shots or dust could penetrate around each of the elfs.
Their melee fighters closed quickly with the trench before the wall, most carrying bronze axes or daggers in each hand. Two clear leaders carried massive, paddle like leaves as greatswords, each surrounded by a cloud of silver pollen drifting from the flowering pommels.
Scan: Opposed roll failed, level up to try again!
Apparently there was some sort of stealthing ability able to oppose our scan skills, which I wanted to learn more about. Hiding the brood’s power, or lack thereof, would go far toward stopping further attacks like this if we survived the true raid.
The spetum wielding mage reached the tree closest to our walls, planted her weapon into the ground by the spiked ferrule, then the elf drew a bean pod from the pouch at her waist and spat on it. She waved a green glowing right hand over the implement and began chanting. Hoping to stop whatever she was casting, I had the moartoads concentrate their shots around her, but she ignored the ineffective shots.
The melee elfs seemed to be waiting at the edge of our trench, none willing to risk being the first to try themselves against our claws, I assumed. I was wrong.
The elf mage finished her chanting, the green glow that had been building around her hands and torso suddenly swirling like smoke being drawn into the bean pod. She then cast it to the ground of the trench.
Sprouting from the soil, thick green stalks wound along the earth, weaving a path through the brush to the elf mage’s feet. Then they spiralled around the logs of the palisade, tendrils splitting the wood and tearing it aside to form a living green archway and stairs into our colony. The pinecrabs and hexadaunts rushed to fill the gap, but the elfs’ hand-to-hand warriors poured into the breach.
The first pair of elf fighters was stopped dead by the rage volleys of the pinecrabs. The elfs still standing on the beanstalk were protected by the clear globes, but the ones on the bare earth were struck by the spines and shards, with one unlucky attacker getting a spike in the eye. I had five of the hexadaunts hurl javelins into the two unprotected elfs, the spears striking through the head and throat of the northern one, and the thigh, chest, and gut of the other.
Level 7 Elf Scout Defeated! + 7 XP (%10 due to minion kill)
Level 4 Elf Scout Defeated! + 4 XP (%10 due to minion kill)
Level 6 Elf Scout Defeated! + 6 XP (%10 due to minion kill)
The two leaf wielding elfs were next, and they seemed unimpressed by the deaths of their fellows. They strode forward, the quills of the pinecrabs, javelins of the hexadaunts, and spikes of the snikes breaking upon and not penetrating their flawless skin.
The taller, broader male spun his leaf greatsword with a flourish, bisecting Flint’s upper right claw with virtually no effort. The pinecrab chattered and pulled back, but three of its siblings grabbed the elf by the arms and dragged him struggling into the colony. As soon as his feet left the vine stalk, the shimmering dome around him winked out.
The female leaf wielder was more careful, thrusting from a plow stance, sword held at an angle pointing up from her hip line. This kept the pinecrabs at bay; none of my children wanted to lose appendages.
I had the pinecrabs holding the male hold him where he would be visible to the female, directed a pair of hexadaunts to hold javelins to his neck and left armpit, then sent Francis in to negotiate again and reduced the volume of the pinecrab clicking.
Melodious tones of violin like music accompanying its buzzing voice, I spoke through Francis. “If you leave, we will release this male. We do not want to be your enemies.”
The female shifted on her feet nervously, glancing back at the mage. The mage stepped forward on the vine, an imperious look on her face. “What kingdom do you belong to, demon? Who is your summoner, and why are they not overseeing you?” she asked.
“We aren’t demons! We’re an independent family of peace lovers, we aren’t from any kingdom, let alone one of your enemies.”
The elfen mage spat at Francis, who dodged the spray and flew up out of reach. “Demon or not, you’re barbarian animals who need to be put down,” she said, raising her polearm.
The other close combat elfs charged forward, except for the female greatsword wielder. She stood to the side, eyes on the male my children had captured.
I had my pinecrabs pull him back while the hexadaunts engaged the fighters. Their spears clattered against the blades of their foes, while the mage cast a spell that wrapped the elfs’ skins in thick viney armor.
The spell seemed to require concentration to maintain it, but it made the swings of their blades much stronger and faster. My hexadaunts had to use three limbs to hold their blocking spears, and three more to brace themselves or risk being forced back. The strikes of their siblings weren’t able to pierce the vines, which writhed and twisted to intercept each thrust.
We needed to end the mage before anyone was injured or killed, but she was behind their lines and immune to our projectile attacks. Our only hope was to separate her from her defenders while she was occupied with the spell. Fortunately, we had the hero we needed.
Jasper had skulked around the wall while the rest of us were distracted by the parley and the combat. From the ditch moat, it had found a position hidden by the gloom of night and occluded by the beanstalk bridge. Sighting in carefully with both claws, it launched its mucus coated tentacles from their sphincters with surprising force, two soft sucking noises and a spray of viscous organic glue following them.
Both of the tentacles flew true, the bushy mass at their tips splatting against the mage’s right arm and pelvis and rapidly cocooning the elf in dripping black flesh that glistened in the moonlight.
Jasper tugged, and the tentacles reeled the mage in like a fishing line. Looming over the elf, my child seemed to glare down at the invader with pity, before lining up its great amber colored blades and sliding them crossways through her slender neck, cutting through armor and bone with a wet ‘shinnk’ sound.
Level 18 Elf Greenspeaker Witch Defeated! + 36 XP (%10 due to minion kill)
The vines covering the elf combatants withered to flakes and dust in moments. The bridging beanstalk turned black and started to rapidly rot beneath the elf swordswoman’s feet. The shimmering domes around all of them popped like bubbles. This, of course, spelled the end for the rest of the combatants. The lesser melee fighters were swiftly impaled, their limbs spiked to the ground or removed by my pinecrabs and hexadaunts. The archers were headshot by my snikes, their stationary locations within the treeline making them easy targets.
Level 12 Elf Archer Defeated! + 12 XP (%10 due to minion kill)
Level 11 Elf Archer Defeated! + 11 XP (%10 due to minion kill)
Level 9 Elf Archer Defeated! + 9 XP (%10 due to minion kill)
Level 13 Elf Archer Defeated! + 13 XP (%10 due to minion kill)
The living elfs were all dragged into the materials depot of our colony, where I had the hexadaunts secure them in place, the elfs kneeling with their ankles crossed and their arms behind their backs (those who still had all of their limbs, of course.) We then set about treating their wounds as best we could. I ensured that they were placed on a soft, gel like secretion of the build rats’ make, something between wax and hair providing warmth.
Now came the difficult task of interrogation. I wasn’t looking forward to it.