The Scorpion Desert was dominated by twelve Klan Cities, each ranked from 1 to 12 by strength. The Klans weren’t allied or at war, they just existed in a state of mutual competition. The scorpionmen from the Klan 2 had heard the rumours about the mysterious Klan 13, or as some heathens liked to call it the WyrmCity. Klan 13 was the newest city in the desert and that meant it was the weakest.
However, the weakest didn’t mean that it was useless, chitters and clicks had reached the scorpion ears that the Klan 13 had unbelievable wealth which it tapped from the nearby mountain. They must have stumbled into an unknown underground resource where they could extract luxurious woody goods, and no it wasn’t just FungiWood. It was Living Wood, a material of great promise and high enchantment capacity. That wealth must be the reason why Klan 13 was growing so quickly.
A source like that was exactly what Klan 2 was missing. Spurred by greed and the ambition to go from place number 2 to number 1, Klan 2 dispatched their legion to raid the newly sprouted city.
A legion of scorpion warriors marched through the desert. Their chitinous exoskeleton allowed them the luxury of not needing to wear heavy armour, but even then, they had to wear protective desert gear. The legion was kitted out with vests made out from the Thumper Leather which allowed them to battle the harsh conditions of the desert like scorching sun and occasional sandstorm. However, despite of all the equipment, they weren’t prepared to deal with what came next.
“Thumpers?” A scorpion pointed knowingly at the distant dunes.
Thumper was a worm-like monster which prowled deep inside the desert sands. It was rare for it to move like that, the monster preferred ambushes instead of straightforward attacks.
“It’s not one. It’s many.” A wizened scorpion chittered clacking his pincers in alarm.
The distant surface of sand dunes rippled like a see during the storm. The sand moved and shifted about forming a huge wave.
“There’s so many. Are they migrating?”
“But it’s not the season yet!”
“What do we do?”
The commander of the raiding legion turned to his scorpions.
“We’ll take them out. Drive the stakes in!”
The warriors pierced the sand below with large and long metal needles forming a barrier beneath them. The shifting sand got closer, and finally something got caught in one of the stakes. And then another, and another. Hurt and angry, Thumpers emerged into the surface.
“There is too many!”
“Deal with it!”
The hurt monsters trashed around knocking the scorpions left and right. But given the chance Thumpers just fled back to the sands.
“They’re not fighting back.”
“It’s as if they are fleeing something.”
Whatever just happened, it was highly unusual. Eventually, the monster migration moved past the scorpions allowing them to proceed towards their target. Everyone moved somewhat more cautious.
“Is this?”
“It is! Everyone, get ready for the storm.”
Sandstorms were not unusual in these parts and the scorpions knew how to weather them. However, this wasn’t just any sandstorm it was the Endless Sandstorm. At first the scorpions tried to wait it out, but after they realised it wouldn’t work, they decided to press forward. The chaotic storm battered them left and right, worse, the sand was so thick it shrouded the sky hiding the sun. Thus, the legion had lost all sense of direction.
The tight-knit formation of the legion was eroded, and the scorpions scattered lost in the storm.
…
It might have been only a day or maybe a whole week, at this point it was impossible to tell how long had the Legion Commander has been lost. Despite his disorientation, he, and only a fraction of his forces, continued to march aimlessly in the Endless Sandstorm. They were hungry, but above all else, they were Parched. Whatever water they once had, it was consumed a long time ago.
To survive only one option remained: to sacrifice one of their own. It was a dreadful reality, but such was the Scorpion Desert.
“Commander!” A scorpion shouted pulling the rope everyone was attached to.
“What is it?” The Legion Commander strained his eyes to see past the sand cloud.
“I’m out!” The chitter was almost drowned by the sound of gushing sand.
The rope was very taunt and there was a risk of it snapping.
“Don’t pull it that hard!”
“I’m… out!” The sound had barely reached him.
He moved towards it, but he couldn’t be too quick, there were other scorpions behind him who also were attached to the rope. The moving sand was so thick, he couldn’t see anything either in the front or back of himself.
“Hurry up!” He tugged the back of his rope.
The spot he was currently in, was the place there the storm was most violent. Tiny grains of sand brushed harshly past his chitin. If he was a fleshier creature, maybe perhaps like a fennec, there would be a risk of having that flesh sanded right off. And it was getting only worse; the Legion Commander gave a silent prayer for being born a scorpion.
Right in front of him, there was a wall of violent sand, following the trembling rope he pushed his pincer into it. It felt thick like quicksand, and the current threatened to swallow him. But it was where the rope led. Perhaps unable to sustain the pressure the rope had snapped, but here he was, still facing the wall of turbulent sand. He stepped right into it, pulling those behind with him.
And there it was… “I’m out!” He chittered waving at the nearby scorpion, the hero who had let them out.
One after the other, the scorpions emerged from the sandstorm. Here outside of it, the sky was clear, but the sun was scorching, and it still was awfully dry. Regardless they cheered happily; the excruciating trip through the Endless Sandstorm was finally over. No, perhaps they cheered all too soon. They still were lost, hungry, and Parched. To get a better feel of there they were the Legion Commander climbed a nearby dune. A few curious scorpions followed right behind him. He strained his scorpion eyes to look in the distance.
“It can’t be!” He didn’t want to believe it.
A scorpion nearby must have seen the same thing. “A mirage?” He offered.
“I see it too.” A third one affirmed.
Soon, all the scorpions climbed the tall dune to marvel at the distant wonder.
“The Mirage City!” Someone chittered excitedly. The chitter was repeated again and again by other scorpions.
The Mirage City was a scorpion folk tale. Somewhere hidden in the desert, there was a shiny and glamorous city. It appeared only to the desert-weary travellers, someone who was already close to the death’s door. It was a place filled with magical wonders. It was a place overflowing with precious water, food, and other goods to recover the tired body. According to the tale, the Mirage City appeared only to those who were noble and worthy. The city was there to nurse the future heroes back to health so that they could continue their quest.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
The Legion Commander didn’t know if he was noble or worthy, or even a hero. But he had a quest to fulfil, and there was no denying that Mirage City was right in front of him.
“Come on, let’s go!” He didn’t need to say it twice, everyone launched into a mad sprint.
His eyes were locked on the structure standing behind the sandy walls and in the very middle of the city. That must have been the Mirage Palace because it shined like a jewel, it was breaking and reflecting the light covering itself in that magical glow of splendour. The Mirage Palace must have completely stolen everyone’s gazes because up until now they failed to notice another equally magical sight.
Outside the walls of the city, there were bountiful and beautiful gardens of flowers and even palm trees. And it made sense, this must have been an oasis, and the Mirage Palace was built next to it. Life in the desert was a rare and precious sight, the lush gardens had quickly stolen the show from the otherwise glamorous palace.
The scorpions rushed towards the plants, either to investigate them or to eat them. And indeed, there was that weird enticing smell to the flowers, making them impossible to resist.
That was then, one of the scorpions sunk into the sand. Trapped. And then another.
“No!”, “Help!” – They chittered in alarm.
Ah, perhaps this was a test. Such bounty should not be taken, not without permission.
“Wait!” He cautioned the rest of his scorpions. “Leave the plants alone. First, we must go to the Mirage Palace and see its ruler.”
They dug out the trapped scorpions and proceeded past the gardens towards the city walls. The sweet aroma of the flowers tempted them at every step. The plum and juicy palms just begged to be eaten – fleshy cores consumed, and the precious wood sold for profit. The desire to ravish this bountiful garden was near irresistible.
“No, no! We must persist!” The Legion Commander steeled his resolve. “Ropes, fetch me the ropes!”
To keep each other in check, they used the recently learned trick. They carried through the paved path towards the city proper while keeping each other close by using a rope.
Eventually they emerged out of the garden finding the Mirage City gate. The gate was made from sandy and peculiar stone, and it had magnificent carved statues of a wyrm implemented in its design. Even the most snobbish scorpion could appreciate the sight, after all the Great Desert Wyrm was a legendary monster and a big part of Scorpion mythology.
But that wasn’t what stole their gazes, it was the creatures guarding the gate. They were entirely unfamiliar, but not completely alien. The creatures, just like scorpions, had chitinous exoskeletons meaning that they were somewhat like a distant cousin. The guards wore vivid blue robes and were armed with nasty-looking spears.
“Greetings creatures, we come from Klan 2.” The Legion Commander slammed his right pincer to the chest paying the proper respects. “Do we have permission to enter?”
“Proceed.” The creature chirped with a thick accent.
Thus, the group of scorpions entered the Mirage City, and indeed it was splendid. Everyone was slightly taken a back by amount of people moving up and down the streets. But that only made sense, of course Mirage City was inhabited. On their way, they passed various booths and stalls, each filled to the brim with various foods and precious goods.
“It appears the stuff here is not free.” The Legion Commander observed. “It’s good we stopped ourselves from ravishing the gardens.”
“But what shall we do, Commander?” A scorpion asked wiping off a trail of drool from its mandibles.
“We proceed with our plan. We shall see the ruler of the Mirage City. I’m sure that’s how it is supposed to go.”
He only warranted a guess; the tale of Mirage City had its variations, and some stuff was rather vague. But there was no doubt they were in the correct location, even from a glance the city beamed with glamour and splendour, and unhinged excess. No doubt, if ranked, this city would be at least twice as good as Klan City 1 or maybe even thrice.
They found their way to the Mirage Palace without any further trouble.
…
A bunch of tired and weary scorpions were looking at the statues surrounding the Throne Room with awe and wonder.
“So, you’re lost, meow? What do you want me to do about that?” The wyrmling growled mightily from his golden throne.
“We’re just asking to stay here for a few days. At least until we recover.”
“You can stay, meow, everyone can stay. This is what this city is for.”
“Of course.” The scorpion nodded happily.
“But why only a few days? Serve me, and you can stay forever, meow!”
The scorpions looked at the wyrmling clearly tempted by the offer.
“Is that even possible? But no, of course it is an option… I’m afraid we can’t, we have an important quest, and families back in the Klan 2.”
“Meow, is that so? You can bring them here with you.”
“…”
“Ah, meow, yes! I’ll even pay you wages.”
“…”
“And I always treat my minions well. I promise you won’t get hungry or thirsty ever again.”
“But… we have a… we need to…”
“Since you’re here already, meow, let me show you few of the perks. Meow!” The wyrmling meowed at the nearby servants meaningfully.
The Fennec sprung to action, constructing a table, and filling it with treats in a matter of minutes.
“Go ahead, sample the goods.” The wyrmling encouraged.
The ravenous hunger and the relentless thirst didn’t allow the scorpions to refuse this offer. Just like the tales told the desert-weary scorpions were allowed to engorge themselves to the brim.
“But what is this?”, “This is amazing!”, “I have never had food like this.”, “This alcohol is top grade.”
“Yes, meow-meow! Drink, drink more. Meow-meow!” The whirling cackled somewhat menacingly.
The scorpions were left to indulge to their heart's content. The wyrmling observed them with a broad conspiratorial grin. He had the scorpions trapped in his spidery web, meow!
If the scorpions left, they still would speak about all the amazing goods available here, thus sending future profits to the city. The wyrmling would even give them free samples to bring home. But he didn’t want them to just leave. The Fennec caravans he was sending to the Scorpion Klans, needed guards, and these scorpions looked just right for the task. One way or the other, he will convince these men to stay, and getting them drunk first always worked. This wasn’t the first group he dealt with, and definitely not the last.
“Meow, you know if you joined me, you could drink Palm Juice every day. I would include it in your daily ration.”
“What, *hic* really?”
*Hic*, ” This alcohol is amazing. Something only a *hic* a Shogun could afford. And maybe you, Legion Commander.”
“No, this is by far the best *hic* I had.”
“Meow-meow, so you should swear your loyalty to me! And you,” the wyrmling looked at the massive scorpion, “that Nectar you slurp with great gusto, that and more I would add to your daily ration.”
“To eat and drink like this every day…”
“Yes, meow, I would even pay you in these.” The wyrmling produced a stack of Living Wood cards. “One each. Maybe two if you work extremely hard.”
The Legion Commander took the card in his pincer. “Is this rumoured… Yes, it is! That would be similar to what I get paid now, and you’ll pay all that to *hic* to an average scorpion grunt?”
“Ah, meow, of course as the leader you would get more! So why don’t you all just stay here and serve me.”
“Commander?” The scorpions looked at their leader with gleaming eyes.
Was it that easy to buy the loyalty of honourable scorpionmen? Was it all it took: a bunch of exotic wood and food? No, it never was so simple. But the scorpions here were under some harsh consequences. The legion was decimated reducing it only to a bunch of weary scorpions. Even if they proceeded to their quest to raid Klan 13, the task was no longer possible. And the shameful return to Klan 2 would be punished by the execution of the one who led the raiding party to such ruin.
The Legion Commander weighed the options. To die, or to live ever happy in the mythical Mirage City? – It was a no-brainer.
“We’ll join you.”
“Swear it in an oath, meow!”
To show their resolve the scorpions stepped out from the half-devastated table, then they lined into a neat rank and kneeled in front of the wyrmling.
“We, scorpions of Klan 2, swear you an undying allegiance. May the Scorching Sun guide us to prosperity.”
“Meow! *slurp*,” the wyrmling hurriedly drank some gelatinous blue sludge, “[Claim Minion]. Meow-meow, I’ve got you!”
[Congratulations, you have become a Minion], [Your Master is the Great Desert Wyrm], [Welcome to the Monster System], the scorpions were greeted with the messages.
They looked with both shock and awe. They didn’t know the wyrmling here had such a power, a power to command the System; no doubt a divine gift. So the stray rumour they heard on their way here, the words ‘God Emperor’, made more sense now.
Unperturbed by the tag Minion, the scorpions bowed their head to the ground. Their pincers shook and mandibles clattered in excitement.
“God Emperor,” The Legion Commander addressed his Master, “It’s our honour.”
“Meow-meow!” The wyrmling laughed. “I too, am overjoyed to have you as my minions. But I’ve been forbidden to call myself a God Emperor. It’s Desert Emperor now, meow!”
God Emperor, Desert Emperor, was there even a difference. From the scorpion's perspective, the two were the same. Only a god could be an emperor to rule the entire desert!
“Yes, Desert Emperor!”
“Better, meow! Now, finish eating and then I’ll give a quest for you.” The wyrmling meowed conspiratorially.
Later the scorpion warriors were tasked with stamping out the bandits who were ambushing the Fennec caravans. Now, imagine their shock when they realised that the bandits were the remains of the Klan 2 legion. The lost men, having no other choice, had resorted to banditry to sustain themselves. Naturally, the Legion Commander didn’t outright kill them, instead, he offered them to join the Desert Emperor. After all, they too in a sense, were lost desert travellers and worthy of the grace of the Mirage City.
Oh, but apparently the proper name was WyrmCity, which made sense considering its ruler.
“Hmm… I did hear that name somewhere. A different tale or myth perhaps.” The Legion Commander couldn’t quite remember. “Not that it matters anymore. *Hic*.” He greedily drank from his third flask today; all perks of being the commanding Minion.
From that day onwards, more and more scorpions were lured to pledge their undying loyalty and receive the perks and benefits of being a Minion.