Mankind changed back then. It shattered, fractured, was divided in tiny pieces. You could say it ended, and you would not be wrong.
And yet, for all the new forms former humans had taken on, the world continued on. Societies continued on.
But it was not the same.
For every single person alive, and some dead, had changed. Their very physical forms, some shifted only ever so slightly, giving rise to the elves, dwarves and halflings. Others were granted features of animals. Of cats and dogs, of horses and oxen but also of birds and fishes.
No longer was Man alone, for Man was no more. And Humanity, as a whole, showed both it’s good and bad sides. No longer were racial divides skin deep, for Humanity was suddenly many races. And with great change comes instability. Even in the most stable areas, there was uncertainty. What will happen next? How can I live like this? Can we just continue like we did before? The least stable are no more.
Amidst all of this, there was beacons of light. For Humanity made great progress, inventions previously impossible became commonplace, exploiting the strange new Energies now permeating the very world.
From the energies, too, every human was granted something. Most got a Talent, Energy or both, common to their kind. Others had different luck. But as much as Humanity was fumbling around in the dark, they were doing so together.
While an elf might not be able to teach a dwarf to channel their innate Talent for crafting, they would be able to aid in harnessing the Arcane Energy of those who have it, be that another elf, an orc, or even a centaur.
Over time, the new Humanity spread out to where they fit the most: Centaurs living as nomads on great plains, dwarves digging into the mountains and hills and mermaids and other seafolk seeking the embrace of the ocean.
And so, the new Humanity continued on, struggling against each other in conflicts that inevitably arose, against the monsters that came from nothingness animal or men alike, and against nature itself, ever intensifying its conditions.
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As for me, I got both blessings and curses, as those are often one and the same. With my body twisted into the form of a Arachnid Broodmother, I quickly found it less than ideal to stay in an increasingly cramped city, being feared, hated and pitied.
I got myself transport to a remote area, where I set up my nest. Over time, as I created more progeny, I dug into the ground, creating a labyrinthine network of caves and tunnels, rivalling that of dwarves.
At the same time, three towns in the area also grew, eventually becoming cities. While most were at best reluctant to see me or my progeny, we worked out agreements. Like they had things I could not produce, and not easily hunt for, and given the competition, I too, had something they desired.
And so, I traded with the cities. Ferrheim, the city of fFolk both furred and feathered, and their monster and animal products. Tiril, the wonderful city of elves and dwarves, with their masterful crafts of many kinds. And Steelgate, a mixed community led by one of the few remaining pure humans, commanding the power of death and the dead.
I traded, bartered and learned from them all, and in return, they got the two most precious things me and my progeny make: Silks stronger than steel and yet as light as any fabric. And Nectar, with powers to both restore and improve one’s Energies and Life. In addition, I had plenty of disposable workers that could do hard and dangerous labor.
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Changed as we are, Man’s folly still remains, and when Ferrheim realised the true worth of my goods, they sent adventurers to take what was not theirs. By that point, it had already been half a lifetime since the Change. My progeny numbered in the thousands.
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They were stopped and sent back with a warning. They attacked again, this time with a bigger force. But I had been building defences from the very beginning, and they were repelled, if not without losses. And yet, I simply bred more to take their place. I stopped trading with them.
A while later, be it months or years, Steelgate attacked. They brought a proper force, a small army, well trained and equipped with with strong magic and advanced technology alike, even bringing a necromancer. But I had been preparing for another attack, and I my own magic and technology, not only from them, but the craftsmen of Tiril.
I let them come, deeper and deeper into my caves. And then I started collapsing tunnels around them, having my warriors ambush them at opportune moments. They crumbled after a week, and the last of them was chased out and died a few days later.
They, too, were denied trade, and what they had brought to subdue me, was now mine. Around that time I started wondering what happened to my humanity. How could I kill so many, without hesitation? Was it because I was lonely, sending only Mouthpieces to speak through when trading?
Despite being surrounded by thousands of my children, and their children, I was lonely. Every so often, one of them would not be as Dull. Instead, they would have a mind of their own, not just another part of the Hive. Some were even intelligent, a person in their own right. I shared my knowledge and granted them a part of the hive to rule.
At some point, I understood the mechanics of this process, and was able to breed the clever ones at will. Since then, every new child has been Dull.
Of course, the cities was beaten, but not broken. They kept attacking every now and then. Then I struck back. After scouting their cities, I tore them to pieces from below. I let the people be, I had that much compassion left. But with both their organization and infrastructure in pieces, they quickly weakened, and eventually turned inwards on themselves.
As for Tiril, they were not exactly pleased with my work, but continued trading. Some years later, they stopped. There had been two powerful bursts of Arcane Energy and one of some other Energy. Even the dullest drones by the surface felt it. And so, I attributed their sudden disappearance to magic.
Perhaps a month or so after the event, after they had not shown up for two planned trades in a row, I sent out scouts. There was surprisingly little damage to the city, and it was then I first got to see it. Through the eyes of my workers, as I rarely leave the depths of the hive.
Even abandoned, or perhaps exactly because it was abandoned, the tall spires leading into solid, underground tunnels were breathtaking. And yes, I found almost no life, not even dead bodies. It was as if they were spirited away, or maybe just up and left.
So I sent scouts to the other cities. They were in utter ruin, most of their inhabitants dead or dying. Aside from the usually dying or injured original inhabitants, I found elves and dwarves. But at the same time, they were different. I will admit I am hardly an expert, having shied away from contact more than I should, but something about them was changed.
I decided to help them regain a semblance of normal life. Even the inhabitants of the two fallen cities. It was hard at first, communicating. The elves and dwarves seemed hollow shells of what they should be, and the remnants of the shattered cities were clearly afraid.
Over time, though, I gathered them in Ferrheim. I helped the dwarves build a subterranean district, and the surface dwellers helped clean up the ruined buildings, even scavenging valuable materials from the remains of Steelgate. Over a year, the city returned to life, at the cost of its cousin.
As for Tiril? None dare go there, for apparently the eldritch Energy released there saps and drain one’s Talents and Energy both. Even my priced Nectar, shared sparingly and cautiously, did little to regain it, though it did at least bring their hollow selves back to life with a spark of what once was.
When I deemed them able to survive on their own, I retreated, leaving a message on where to find me should they desire trade or further help. But also a warning that it would not be free, and that a repeat of their predecessors action would have strict repercussions.
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“And so, we come to today. In all this time, you’ve stayed away from both the hive and Tiril. You’ve shown no signs of wanting to trade, or even interact for what must’ve been centuries.
We had almost assumed you forgot about us, and now you’ve decided to contact the hive. While you come armed and alert, you have not attacked, letting us guide you deeper into the hive.
We ask you, then: Why are you here, mortals?”