“There are many tales of heroes who slay monsters. None of them prepare you for the real thing.” Excerpt from the journal of an anonymous knight (approx. 30 A. F. E.).

The queen raised one leg, and brought it down, causing everyone to scatter. When it hit the ground, it cratered the stone. Garassk’s heart raced as he observed how close he was to death. Flint swung for the leg, only for his spear to glance off of the bony armor. Diama fared no better.

“Someone tell me we know what to do against this thing!” he called out as he hammered at the leg with his sword hilt and tail. The queen merely kicked him aside.

“Stay away from the legs,” Rathorn shouted back. “We can think about how to fight back when we have more space to plan!”

The queen swung its tail next, narrowly missing Diama, as she rolled out of the way. Garassk lunged for the stinger, but his blows accomplished nothing. As the tail rose from the ground, he remembered the earlier fight. We aim for the joints. he thought. Where is a weak spot? The problem was that the queen was so large, that her most vulnerable spots were too high to reach. It took several more stops to find it, but he eventually noticed spindly toes, which included segmented parts of the outer skeleton.

“I think I’ve got something!” he called out. “Distract her!”

Flint and Diama started running around. The queen’s head snapped toward the two of them. Frustrated by the movement, she eventually raised one of her front feet and tried to stomp on them. Garassk ran for the foot directly behind, and plunged his sword for the joint connecting the foot to the leg. The queen screamed and reared up, raising him off of the ground. Desperate to capitalize on this, he grabbed his dagger, and swung it for one of her toes. Yellow blood seeped from every wound, making it harder to maintain a grip on his weapons.

“Got it!” he shouted. After much effort, he pulled both weapons out, and dashed away from the queen.

“There are joints at the feet!” Garassk called out, rushing to his companions. “If we cut those, we can stop her from moving.”

“On the ground, maybe,” Flint said, clutching his arm. “But she can still fly.”

“Oh,” Garassk said, freezing up. “Right. I’d forgotten about that. Damn.”

“It’s a good start,” Diama said. “If we hurt her enough on the ground, the wings come out. Then we can deal with them.”

“Right. Got to get her to try and fly.”

Garassk jumped out of the way as she tried to stomp him again, and tried to think of a way to get her to fly. Flint and Diama got her attention, so he ran for the nearest wall, dug his claws in, and climbed. The sound of the fight below, and the sight of the other bugs above made it all the more harrowing. They watched him move, but did nothing themselves. We’ll have to deal with them later, he thought. When he looked back down, the queen was in constant motion, trying to catch Diama and Flint. He noticed Rathorn out of the corner of his eye loading his crossbow, hidden from the sight of everyone else. The elder varanian held up a hand signaling to wait.

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The fight dragged on with no clear sign of anyone gaining the upper hand. The queen reared up and screamed occasionally, but Garassk had no way of knowing if it was because someone had landed a hit, or if she was just annoyed that she never seemed to be able to strike at them.

Rathorn balled his fingers into a fist. Garassk kicked himself off of the wall and leapt for the queen’s back. Landing on it felt like hitting solid stone. He took a moment to curse the pain in his joints as he struggled to his feet. The queen never stopped thrashing, so he crawled for her sides, praying that he wouldn’t fall with every movement. He scanned the area for signs of the wings, but they were hidden well. It took a while before he noticed something rising at the sides every so often when she lashed out. He waited for the process to repeat until he was certain that he’d found his target.

After almost falling off while crawling forward, Garassk decided that perhaps he would be better served by going after a different target. He turned and moved toward the head. He crawled until he managed to reach a segmented joint near the neck, and forced his dagger into it. The queen screeched and ran around the room, uncertain how to deal with this pain she couldn’t confront. Garassk did not have much time to dwell on this victory, for a few of the bugs above detached themselves from the wall and headed toward him. Oh, I’m in for it now, he thought.

The bugs landed in front of him and hissed contemptuously. He moved to doge their tails, but the queen’s constant thrashing meant that he had to balance not getting hit with not falling off. Things escalated when he raised his shield to deflect a blow, only for the force of it to loosen his grip. He didn’t have time to curse as the shield plummeted to the ground. All he could do was stay focused on the fight. He desperately needed to break out of the defensive position.

Need to find a weak spot. Need to find a weak spot.

Finally the queen lurched forward, causing Garassk to tumble towards her head. Without the time to think, he thrust his arm out and dug his claws into the nearest thing he could grab.

The scream was deafening. It took Garassk a bit of time to realize what he’d just scratched: her eye.

Perfect! Digging his fingers in deeper, he reached for his dagger, and drove it in, earning another scream. Eventually the queen reared back and spread her wings. He kept hammering his dagger into the soft eye until he noticed a bolt start sailing. It grazed past her wing, and the queen took off.

Oh gods, no!

Garassk stopped stabbing, and tried to climb back onto the queen’s back. Each movement brought his claws back into her eyes, causing her to scream and writhe as she barreled for the ceiling. He barely got to the crown on her head before she slammed into the ceiling, shattering it like an egg. Her smaller subjects joined her, creating a horrific scene in the underground city.

Garassk tensed as she stayed in the air, waiting for her to fly near anything he could use to get away from her and rethink his strategy. He didn’t know if the queen knew what he was thinking or not, but she seemed determined to avoid anything he could use to escape. He occasionally slammed his pommel into her head, but that was like striking stone. All it did was create an echo and make his arms shake.

The queen eventually soared close to a wall. Good enough, Garassk thought, leaping off of her head and driving his dagger into the sandy stone. He slid down the wall, tensing for fear that the rest of the swarm might notice and attack him at any moment. He heard a faint jingling and remembered his potions. He grabbed one of the blizzard vials and tossed it right as a bug buzzed towards him. The vial shattered, creating a snowy vortex and spun around near the bug, and grew from there.

That bought Garassk the time he needed to leap off of the wall, and toward the artificial island supporting the walled-city. He landed nearby, and tried to sink his claws in, but slid down further before losing his grip entirely. He screamed in agony as he plummeted to the ground.

He could barely believe that he’d even survived when he finally landed. He groaned and rolled over onto his stomach. His sword had gotten off of his person and landed a few feet from him. He struggled to his feet and prepared to retrieve it, but the queen landed in front of him and roared out a challenge.