[Jeez, I don’t need your life story. I just want to know you won’t turn on us to look after yourself like they did.] The big worm jabs his ringed tail toward the improvised ‘cell’ the golgari are being kept in.
I scratch my head with an antenna.
[How did you die, Jim?]
He freezes for a long second.
[I’d rather not talk about it,] he mutters.
[That’s fair enough. I shouldn’t have asked. I myself starved to death because I gave all my last scraps of food to an ant colony I’d raised in my room. There were so many of them, I kind of figured they’d need it more than me, you know?]
[Thank you, Anthony,] Sarah says quietly. [I think you answered his question.]
[All good.] I give them a cheery wave with an antenna. [All the people from Earth who wind up in this place are a little weird. We need to keep looking out for each other.]
[Right.] The enormous bear lumbers to her feet and begins to plod down the corridor, her vast bulk taking up most of the available space.
[Come on, Jim,] she calls back. [Let’s go hunting.]
[Again?] the worm is aghast. [We just got back!]
[I feel motivated. Come on.]
[Fine, fine.]
If a worm can slither in a resentful way, then that’s what I witness as Jim and his many segments vanish around the corner. Those two have been out hunting? Nice! I hope Sarah manages to keep herself under control. Having an insane raging doom-bear stronger than myself tearing the tunnels apart would be a slight problem, to say the least. She has Jim to help keep her in line, that should be enough.
Pushing my friends out of my mind, I round another corner to find who I came here to see. When I lay eyes on the ‘cell’ the colony stashed them in, I almost stumble over. It’s clear the ants don’t have any real understanding of the concept of prisoners. These rooms are done up just the same as Enid’s sitting room! The damn golgari are just sipping tea and relaxing in an idyllic, well-furnished sitting room. That’s not the play!
If it weren’t for the team of eight mages placed about watching them like hawks, you’d never know they were captives.
“Just having a quick chat,” I inform the guards.
“Go ahead, eldest. These two don’t do much. Maybe talking to you will stir something up.”
I hope not. I don’t expect them to give us any meaningful intelligence, but at the least we might be able to use them as bargaining chips. It’s unlikely, given how willing their leaders were to throw lives away, but I don’t want to rule anything out at this point.
I reach out with a Mind Bridge and feel it snap into place in short order.
[I was wondering when you would come to gloat,] Irette Plamine sneers at me.
How do you even sneer over a purely mental form of communication? Her face didn’t move, but there’s a definite sneerish tone to her thoughts.
[Gloat about what?] I ask, curious.
[Flipping the tables on us? Taking us captive and placing us in your control where once you were in ours?] She seems almost flabbergasted that I would need to ask.
[Oh, that. Honestly, I kind of forgot you two were here. There is a lot going on around here.]
[You WHAT?] Plamine bursts out before her fellow Triad member settles her down and turns to speak to me.
[Come now, Anthony,] she says, calm on the surface but with a simmering anger underneath. [You don’t really expect us to believe that you forgot we were here, do you?]
Ahh… They seem annoyed. Might as well play it cool.
[Of course not. I’ve been… brooding! Yes, indeed! Brooding about… the unspeakable torture I’m going to inflict on you, my former tormentors! Aha! What suffering… err… awaits you! Unless you tell me what I want to know!]
[You really did forget us, didn’t you?]
[I really did, yes, I’m sorry.]
I’m not that good at playing the villain.
[I don’t think it’s entirely my fault,] I say to their chagrined faces. [What with the whole threat-of-invasion thing hanging over our heads. The golgari who chased us were not happy, not happy at all.]
[Did they say anything about us?] Biritite Cryslas perks up.
[Not a word. Don’t think they care about Shapers much, from what I gathered. No, they were mainly concerned with annihilating us.]
[As you deserve,] Irette Plamine spits at me. [A failure like you shouldn’t even exist.]
[That’s a lot of resentment from someone who had me locked up and forced to fight in a death tournament against my will. You seriously don’t think you deserve just a little of the misfortune you’ve suffered? And what do you think is going to happen if the golgari do make it this far? I highly doubt they’ll think a colony of intelligent ant monsters kept you living comfortably and supplied in tea, during your entire captivity. Do you?]
I can tell that Irette is simply too angry to listen to what I have to say, but a flicker of understanding appears in the eyes of Biritite, and I keep speaking to both of them, but mainly to her.
[The only chance you have of getting back into the Empire of Stone, or whatever you call yourselves, is to cooperate with me. There are cult members in the colony right now, it’s not like I’ve totally cut ties. The nutcase warriors on the way here are never going to take you home. The question you have to ask is, how badly do you want to see me fail? What price are you willing to pay?]
With that thought, I leave them to stew a little longer. I’ll check in again when I get back from this excursion. Who knows? They might have something useful to share.
66. A Strange New World
Many a recruit has been lost to the demons of the third stratum, despite the Legion’s best efforts to prepare them. It provides some comfort that delvers who belong to the Mercenary Union fall at a higher rate, which means our training does have some effect. Independents have it the worst. Without prior knowledge, or the proper mental preparations, their chances of success in that burning wasteland are almost nil.
Records indicate that the earliest expeditions launched by the Legionem Abyssi had similar expectations of the dangers they would confront there that most delvers hold today. The Dungeon is a place of violence and death, the first and second strata offer no comforts, every living thing, plant or animal, is a potential threat. It stands to reason the deeper you go, the more violent and merciless the strata will become.
And that is indeed, a true inclination. The third stratum is far more deadly than the second, but in a much different way. The Dungeon is as cunning as it is brutal, and as brutal as it is cunning. The lesser demons of the third stratum swarm the plains, feasting and warring in roving bands of mindless beasts. Like swarms of vermin, they fight and kill endlessly, the spawn rate absurdly high for such a powerful class of monster.
But once they reach a high enough tier, they rise above the rabble. Above the plains tower the fortress cities of the demon aristocracy, palaces of intrigue, wealth, and guile that have entrapped so many a gullible soldier. If a demon tells you something, it’s probably true, just never in the way that you expect.