Jangin noticed the return of a single scout who’d been sent in a little while after the pestle worm had been loosed on the imposter. The scout promptly sought out one of the commanders and made his report. Afterward, an order was conveyed down the chain of command, signaling the start of their invasion.
The Impellers at the front of the army broke rank so that they could fit through the bore. Everyone knew they’d be vulnerable to attacks from the moment they emerged into an open space on the other end of the tunnel, but it was an unavoidable chokepoint. Jangin and Finnikin took consolation in the knowledge that they’d be protected by the mage’s initial arcane shields.
It was a long march of several ranges through the still-muddy bore hole.
…
Walking ahead of one of the many encumbered equonapsids, Jangin and Finnikin proceeded silently with awe and confusion through the opening into the imposter’s territory.
The room was many hands tall. Flowers sprouted from cyan vines clinging to the naturalistic, yet clearly artificial, high walls of the chamber. Carpets of moss-encrusted skinny mushrooms abounded, with countless animals openly munching on the abundant food they provided. On the ground, and from several crevices on the walls, sprouted fungiwood trees of two varieties; one of which Jangin, and to his surprise, Finn, had never seen before. The more familiar yellow tower-caps were present, but there was also a branching white species with porous bark.
The ceiling was similarly colonized, but also harbored long glowing blue strands of alluring moist mucus to capture flying prey. Giant glow worms were not to be tangled with, literally. Even an adult seedfolk could easily lose their life by carelessly blundering into one of their snares.
While majestic, and easily on-par with the Inside itself, none of this really surprised anyone.
While astonishment was not the prevailing emotion, confusion certainly was.
Scattered haphazardly all over the place were odd constructs which no one could identify, as well as those with more apparent purposes. Recessed in the walls were rows of stone nooks cleared of plant life, save for those with stone pots and other similar vessels inside. The airspace was cluttered by a dense network of suspended platforms and pulleys anchored to heavily built wooden compound winch arrays.
Plant-filled stone containers of all sizes and geometries were strewn everywhere; they lined flattened terraces alongside flowing canals, occupied nooks carved into the walls, or even balanced atop suspended pallets which gently swayed to a light breeze. At first glance, one could easily overlook the occupants of the pots and troughs. But upon more careful inspection, it became apparent that the varieties of plants and fungi held within were altered specimens of wild types.
Finn picked up a nearby pot adjacent to a carved irrigation canal. It contained a flowering vine with cyan leaves trussed to a fungiwood support cage. He said to Jangin, “This vine doesn’t naturally flower like this, it’s been hybridized with an aster flower. This could only be possible via arcane means.”
Noticing the same himself, as Jangin’s own botanical knowledge was not at all lacking, he nodded and said, “If they weren’t the enemy, I’d love to have a chat with the caretaker of this garden. It’s making me feel homesick already.”
Finn replied, “And that’s certainly odd, isn’t this? We’ve stumbled upon what, by all rights, should be a garden. Why is this here? Why is this flora being intentionally cultivated? Where are the hordes of beasts?”
“I couldn’t say, but we need to get going or else we’ll be trampled by that fat lizard behind us.”
While they matched the pace of their peers once more, the Impellers, who’d since formed up again, reached the end of the chamber. Besides their own burrow, the only other apparent entrance to the untamed garden large enough for a seedfolk to walk through was a wide tunnel at the top of a sheer cliff face with no passage up.
Clearly, this domain was not shaped with their traversal in mind.
This was a massive departure from what Jangin knew of typical imposters. Even a handler would be unable to encourage one to depart from its innate behavior to this extent. The chamber certainly wasn’t natural, so Jangin couldn’t help but wonder what was going on. And if Jangin was pondering it, he could be sure that Finn was as well; that seedfolk was exceptionally inquisitive.
The Seed’s army was prepared to deal with all terrain, of course.
Seedfolk were good climbers, and the vegetative walls offered many plants to cling to. As always with this region of the first subterrane, the trick was avoiding archer pods. Luckily, they could see none of the glowing purple bulbs on that surface, at least.
What could be seen, however, was a large wooden sign with the words “By entering, you forfeit your lives. Turn back,” engraved into its surface.
Definitely odd, but of no real concern. It was an obvious bluff on the part of the tricky handler.
One seedfolk was selected to scale the cliff. If the entire army tried to climb up, the plants would be gradually trampled and uprooted, making climbing much more difficult. For the four and a half hundred folk present, that was simply not tenable.
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The lone climber carried with her several iron stakes with external runes inlaid with thin wires of silver, a hammer, knife, and an iron pulley.
Ascending with caution, checking every crevice and narrow tunnel embedded in the cliff, of which there were many, for hidden archer pods, she progressed two dozen hands up.
Once she crested the top, she disappeared from everyone’s sight by walking a short distance down the tunnel.
Shortly after, the ringing sounds of her hammer striking the iron stakes could be heard, faintly audible over the all-pervasive cacophony of animal sounds.
Eventually, she was finished and came back into the sight of the army. Then, she started waving her arms before leaving the army’s sight once more.
Receiving the cue, three mages working in tandem levitated a head-sized rock which had a very thick braided silk rope fastened to it. With a long five minutes of uninterrupted concentration, the floating stone was launched in the direction of the lead mage’s staff, which was likewise pointed at the elevated entrance to the tunnel, following a parabolic trajectory.
Such a spell had very few uses, for it was too difficult to perform in most circumstances. Levitation made for poor ballistics. Jangin struggled to understand why the climber hadn’t just carried the rope up with her.
The impact wasn’t heard, no doubt softened by springy underbrush. But soon the climber came back into view for the third time. She tossed the rock, and thus the silk rope tethered to it, back down the tall cliff. However, while it plummeted, the portion of rope ascending upwards didn’t move, for the rope was looped around the pully which was itself fastened to a hard surface by the magic gripping stakes embedded into solid stone.
An Impellers at the front walked over and untied the rope from the stone. He then carried the rope’s end into the interior of the army, where he handed it off to a group of laborers who knew what they had to do.
They coupled two equonapsids together with a yoke, and then tied the heavy silk rope to an eye-ring on the fungiwood crosspiece.
Jangin watched another group of Feeders tie a massive pine ladder to the other end of the rope while they butted one end of it up against the cliff’s edge.
Once everyone was finished, the commanders cleared the area around the ladder. It would soon be a falling hazard.
The equonapsid handlers guided the two attached individuals away from the cliff, which slowly pulled the rope taut.
Once under tension, the beast’s pulling lifted the pine ladder into a standing position against the cliff face. The climber at the top then fastened it securely with her remaining stakes, while the base was likewise firmly affixed.
Jangin heard a brief mental shout of “Please stop!” but he promptly blocked it out again. Finn, on the other hand, visually flinched, but then continued on his way.
The impellers started climbing the ladder first. It would’ve been wide enough for three unadorned seedfolk to ascend side-by-side, but with their cumbersome weapons and scale mail, two was the best they could manage.
Still, they climbed furiously, for they’d be vulnerable as they emerged at the top. Though the way seemed to be clear of threats.
Following the Impellers were the nineteen mages. Then, the Feeders began to ascend.
Jangin knew that the equonapsids would have no trouble scaling the wall as they exhibited a magic ability which allowed their feet to adhere to nearly any surface. It’s what made them such good beasts of burden for many a subterranean society, despite their fat, sluggish nature. He chuckled to himself with the knowledge that some scholars argued the, obviously magical, capability was in fact the result of a mundane process.
Right as it was nearly their turn to scramble up, disaster struck.
Without warning, hundreds of ants and archer pod bearing beetles scuttled out from the few narrow tunnels scattered about as well as through a much greater number of previously concealed hinged entrances.
They’d expected something like this but had not accounted for the possibility of hidden entrances with mechanical doors, of all things. It was unprecedented.
Jangin was somewhat relieved that the horde of beasts apparently didn’t know to target the vulnerable mages still scaling the ladder, but he was still frightened because they instead started to attack those who had yet to scale the ladder, himself included.
The Feeders on the ground formed up around the laborers and readied their defense. Mages with the relevant spells already locked into their staves prepared long distance attacks from their perch atop the cliff.
The wave of softly clattering but otherwise silent arthropods continued onwards while their archers loosed crossbow bolts at will, to little effect. Yes, most found a target, but the bugs were so small and numerous that isolated casualties made little difference. It was an effective counter to crossbowmen.
As the wall of chitin converged on their location, however, it veered away and ran in the direction of their equonapsids! An imposter’s beasts do not prioritize non-sapients!
But they did, to the astonishment of everyone present.
Now, the mage’s spells rained down, but at this distance, only pinpoint attacks were of use. Thus, they experienced the same problem as the archers had.
It didn’t make a difference. With an uncanny degree of coordination, the beetles set their venomous passengers to work stinging the soft underbellies of their reptilian haulers while the ants protected them from projectiles with their bodies.
Unable to join the fight, as they were stranded at the top of the ladder, the Impellers could only watch as the inexperienced Feeders rushed over to the enemy and did their best to hack the insects away from their suffering animals.
The ants sacrificed themselves to give the archer pods more time.
And they were very successful in doing so. Through some means completely opaque to Jangin, they coordinated and departed as one, having administered enough venom to completely paralyze the fat lizards.
At this point, it was apparent to every seedfolk; they could not afford to make any more assumptions. This imposter was not like others, it ought to be treated as an intelligent foe itself for its handler seemed to have absolute control over its faculties.
Unexpectedly, Finn said, “We’ll press onwards. This changes little.”
“What do you mean? What’re we to do without the equonapsids?”
“Simple, we ditch some of our supplies and carry whatever we can. I can tell you now; the commanders won’t have us turn back to recover or round up reinforcements. Because we can’t. There are no reinforcements, and any time spent recovering would likewise be used by our crafty opponent. Or, that’s what they’d be thinking, at least.”
Jangin said, “We could ask the Varnassi for help, no? Or perhaps some deep nobles?”
“Ha! That’s rich! Both would be more likely to take advantage of our situation than anything else. Now, in my opinion, that might very well be desirable right now, but most others would disagree with me there.”
“…Ok. I really don’t understand why we can’t just leave this place alone and carry on with our lives as before. Is the Schism really so important? Surely, it’s not worth risking annihilation for, right?”
“It’s not, which is why I suspect there’s more to it than that. The Seed is both smart and experienced, I’m confident there are other factors at play.”