Balta watched the distant person approach with hooded eyes, scanning for every detail his eyes could pick out. What he saw intrigued him. This was no ordinary messenger. Something about the way they moved told him this person was high Level. There was a confidence, a balance in every step that only those with true power possessed. From what the High Blade knew, there shouldn’t be such a person here with these miserable ants. He resisted the urge to lean forward to see better so as not to give away his curiosity as he tried to gather more information.
There wasn’t much to glean. The figure was shrouded in a dark robe and appeared to carry no weapons. With the hood pulled up to cover their face, it wasn’t even possible to determine race or gender.
“Halt there,” called the Shaper as the mystery person drew within twenty paces. “Reveal yourself and state your business.”
The figure made no move to draw back their hood. The voice that emerged was steady and sure, confident and calm. When he heard it, the High Blade’s eyes narrowed.
“I have come to negotiate on behalf of my people.”
There was a moment of pause before Balta himself replied.
“Who are ‘your people’? If you are an ant, you are surely a strange one. My demands are clear: bring me the abomination or this one dies.”
He gestured without looking at the silent Granin who remained forced to his knees, bound securely. The figure laughed quietly as they revealed their face.
“I am indeed no member of the colony,” Grey said. “But the Folk have something to say in regards to what is taking place here.”
The wolf-like features of the representative struck the golgari dumb, except for Granin, who chuckled through his gag. What in the name of the Great Worm was one of the Folk doing here? Not even he could have predicted this! Anthony truly did bring chaos wherever he went.
Almost against his will, Balta sat straighter when Grey revealed himself. The currents were shifting quickly beneath his feet, and he struggled to hold his ground. He still needed to get what he wanted, and he would not allow this turn of events to deny him.
“Your people hold no claim to this territory,” Balta sneered. “Nor do they have authority in these tunnels. Were I to cut you down where you stand, the Folk would have no ability to seek redress from me. You are obstructing us in prosecuting an extermination.”
“Things are rarely so simple,” Grey chided as he massaged his palms and forearms. “And never when the Dungeon is concerned. I have applied to have the colony recognised as one of the New Races. The tribes deliberate as we speak.”
“It will be years before they come to any sort of agreement,” Balta scoffed. “Why does this concern me?”
“Because it means I am within my rights to fight to defend this new race, according to the laws of my people.”
The wolf flexed his hands, and from each finger snapped a wickedly-gleaming claw several inches long.
“What are you proposing?” the High Blade asked as he eyed those edges.
“Well. I could take a position at the gate and carve your people apart by the dozens as they approach, dooming your expedition to failure…”
“Or,” Balta grated.
“…Or, you could accept me as a substitute for your duel,” Grey smiled fiercely, his pointed teeth on display.
140. The Siege, Part 18
Spell after spell I fling at the oncoming Legion soldiers, battering away at layered bubbles of golden shields along with the rest of my siblings. Hundreds, no, thousands of projectiles and magical strikes rocket through the air, sometimes colliding before even reaching the target, smashing into the enemy defences, which flash and burst with rippling waves of light with each connection.
It’s a dazzling sight to behold, not that I have the time to appreciate it. The return fire has begun. My sharpened reflexes and precognitive instincts keep me relatively safe from the barrage of arrows crunching into the stone as if they’ve been fired out of a cannon. I must constantly hop from side to side, my antennae tingling with warning of the projectiles directed at me.
I get the feeling the Legionaries are holding a grudge, or perhaps I just make too shiny of a target out here in the front of the colony lines. My Diamond Carapace is so damn sparkly, the enemy just can’t help but shoot at it. At least I’m serving my intended purpose and absorbing more than my fair share of the damage, keeping my siblings safer through this early part of the battle.
It does throw off my concentration, though, making it harder to maintain my wind-assisted lava assault. The need for my main mind to continuously pick up the slack for the other brains makes focusing on dodging and casting at the same time difficult. I decide to focus more on my spells, which means I get hit moments later.
Not a problem for the Diamond Carapace! Gwehehehehe—Oh shoot!
Seeing me get hit with an arrow appears to have emboldened the Legion mages and snipers. At least, that’s what it seems like since the wave of ordnance being sent my way is intensifying.
Settle down, people! You need to find your chill! The carapace on the lower side of my body gets pelted with shards of stone as impacts crunch into the rock between my legs. I’m dancing the dance of my people, which turns out to be a frantic six-legged scramble back and forth whilst contorting my body into strange shapes and flinging spells. It can’t look too dignified, but it’s going to get the job done!
BOOM!
Aha! Invidia is finally in range to do his thing! Explosions rock the tunnel, sending dust and stone flying into the air and causing trickles of loose soil to rain down from above as the impacts shake the stone itself. The balls of fire are spectacular as they blossom against the enemy shields, causing them to spark and ripple as the Legion continues their implacable advance.
I can’t help but be a little impressed with the indomitable and unyielding discipline of the Legion soldiers. We are pouring all the firepower the colony can muster on their heads and they never flinch. It must help that they’re encased from head to toe in armour far better than anything we can make, but still, they’re just humans. Compared to us ants, they’re clearly lacking in many respects—legs—but even so, they’ve pushed our backs to the wall.
With the Legion drawing closer, it becomes harder and harder to dodge the incoming fire and I begin to take more damage than I would like. Incremental damage will pile up over time and the Legion’s attacks are getting stronger at the closer range. Colony mages are doing their best to erect shields and take the sting out of our foe’s magical barrage, but as the distance shortens, they have much less time to work.
BOOM!
Holy smokes! The heat from that one nearly singed the hair off my antennae. Glaringly bright light momentarily blinds me and I hop blindly to one side before my vision is restored, trusting in my instincts to keep from taking an arrow through the eye. Not being able to blink really sucks at moments like this. I can’t shield my vision even though I want to!
All around me, the soldiers are starting to loosen their joints and flex their mandibles as the ranks tighten. It won’t be long now until the two sides collide for the first melee of this exchange, and it pays to ensure you aren’t too tightly wound up before it happens. The ranks tighten and my performative display of dodging reduces in scale as I have less space to manoeuvre.