Snail Shamans

You seem displeased, Old One. We only did as you asked, yes? The snare is sprung, the creature consumed.

Hornet

You bound it to that void!

Don’t play daft. You should well know our family’s fixations. Surely you had a hunch?

How else could we hope to trap one of your pale kin? Or see her consumed with such insatiable efficiency?

Hornet

Then you have miscalculated, gravely. The white knight, she fell with the mother...

Oh ho... The quakes, yes? We have felt their force, even here. So the mother resists the dark... to save the child?

Hornet

That is my guess. I must descend to the void below, and see clear that truth for myself.

Ohhhh. How… unfortunate. All of Pharloom will fall to her flailing.

Hornet

So it may, but I will not watch idle while it crumbles.

Bring us the hearts, Old One. Make’em beat, fierce and final. See for yourself the forgotten strength of this land of bugs before we burn those memories in its saving.

Enough chatting, Old One. Best you get heading below. Whatever action you’re planning, time is against you.

Hornet

I found the well in the hidden chambers beyond. The power that remained at its base I have taken for myself.

Bound yourself a new nature, aye? And from the shells of our ancestors, no less, all those many who’ve called these lands their own.

You make it seem so simple-like. All o’that learning, all o’that strength... sucked up in a whirl of Silk.

We’d call you a thief, Old One, and cruel for the taking, but it’s all coming down soon if you can’t stop it.

If there’s advantage in your act that might see these caves safe, then it’s better you make your claim.

Even knowing her motivation, it is a shock the monarch can resist so long. We’d thought none could survive that void.

Hornet

She will have retreated within her protective form, that cocoon of thread. Even as the dark eats its outer, she will spin its Silk anew.

Hornet

The effort would be immense and it will strain her soul thin, but what other choice remains?

Hornet

This is the desperate act of a dying god. A defiance that, left unchallenged, will bring your kingdom’s ruin.

The quakes... This collapse will take Pharloom all.

Hornet

If the void doesn’t claim it first. Surely you’ve seen them, the black threads that wrack your lands? The dark leeches up, possessed upon the fallen monarch’s Silk.

Hornet

Pharloom’s roads were not safe before. Now they’ll prove impassable. Those pilgrims still alive in your lands best huddle and hope.

Hornet

If there can be another end to this, it is up to us to discover it.

Oh ho! Back from the depths with nary a scratch! Is it as you feared?

Hornet

It is, and worse. Your snare has sunk the monarch deep, deeper than I can safely descend.

Hornet

To cut Pharloom free, I must plunge below the surface of that lake of liquid nothing.

No shell survives submersion in that void, Old One, not even yours.

Hornet

Not without aid, certainly. Though aid may exist. The flower that resists the dark. Do you know of it?

The Everbloom?... We’ve heard the tale, but had thought it a myth. If ever it sprouted in our lands we would surely have known?

Hornet

I would not seek it in these lands. I need its power full, and it is too fragile to sustain here long. I would seek it in my memory.

Oh ho ho! So you’d have us wrench open your soul, to retrieve the fabled bloom? Can such a thing be done?

Hornet

For another bug, no, but I am Weaver enough to attempt it.

Hornet

In the distant past, I knew the flower. My thread still holds its faint memory. If the Everbloom was grasped strongly enough within my Silk, it could be made to manifest.

Ah! So you’re asking another spell of us? To reveal the flower clear?... But to illuminate one of your kind’s old memories, so acutely... This is no easy thing, even for us...

Old One, you must give us a moment to confer...

Hornet

The groaning docks, beyond the caverns of bone. There I have seen a vessel able to pass below, a heavy bell built for descent.

Hornet

I need only gain access, and an operator to assist. I will investigate the docks, and uncover the means.

You’d be the first in an age to dive so deep, Old One. That space below remains long unseen, even to our family.

Hornet

For those depths, I am more prepared than most. I will reach the base of this land, and know the truth of the new disaster we together have wrought.

In the heights of the great wood, nestled deep in its roots, vines and branches, find the one who sowed the first seed.

They’re the very essence of the place, the nub of it all. Ain’t really a bug, to be told, but a powerful presence nonetheless.

We’d heard the Citadel once made grudging accord with that creature, sent their servants in reverence, even built a shrine up there somewhere. Maybe it’s worth you searching for it?

What’s this? That’s an unexpected heart you’re holding, Old One...

We can guess to its source, though we’d believed it long gone from these lands.

Hornet

The heart of a graceful lord. In its taking I was able to witness his caves and kingdom as once they flourished.

Hornet

A stunning sight. Unique. All gone... Lost to the pale monarch... and the system to keep her caged.

We could do it. The spell can be cast, with enough power, enormous power, equal maybe to that monarch...

Hornet

I cannot grant you mine, if it even were enough. My strength is still needed to face her below. Where else do you propose we seek a source?

From Pharloom! Ho ho ho! Remember, ours is a kingdom of wishes granted.

Pharloom was not born of that monarch, Old One. Power existed in these lands even before she bound them beneath her.

Grnk. Seek the old hearts of our kingdom and the last successors to bear their strength.

They’re still out there, hidden away, much faded by the pale one’s long dominion. You must make them stir.

We will teach you how, in the way befitting a Weaver, a sombre song to reach down into their memories and enliven them a final time.

Hornet

It is time, shamans. I have the hearts, enough as requested. Enough to build your spell, yes?

Aye. We’re ready. Still, it’s a sad set you’re holding there, strength such as few shall ever know... and all about to burn for Pharloom’s saving.

I’ll warn ya, Old One, this first part might not be pleasant, but we’ll get you in there, deep as needed.

Now you’ve only to ready yourself for what comes after. Lay up on the dais and we’ll begin.

This task before you... This is mortal power you would claim, the hearts of bugs. It will cost their last strength to save this land.

Even we have some hesitation in this. Despite our desire to touch their power, we’d never wished to see it expended so utterly.

Hornet

Better to leave your land weak in wonder, if it means your shells, and those of your fellows, stay intact.

Through their march, at the far border of these lowlands, seek the last queen of the ant hunters. We can sense her still... just.

In youth, her voice united the wild tribes. Gave them the strength to resist the pale monarch’s will... longer than most at least.

Those docks, atop the lake of flame, they still possess the means to pass below, though you’d be the first in an age to dare the descent.

Hornet

Then my path is clear. Remain in your sanctuary and await my return. If this land can be saved, you may have a part to play yet.

Hornet

Cowards. Here you hide, even as you cause your own land’s demise.

Hold it, Old One! That intruder writhing within your shell...

Our ritual ain’t gonna work while that cruel creature’s present. We’d be tugging at its memories as much as your own.

Hornet

Then free me of the affliction. Surely you have the skill?

Not for this! Our power’s all of soul and that thing’s all physical. You’re gonna need more traditional tools of healing.

Seek the one exiled from Bellhart, little Yarnaby. She was chased out into those soaked moors, last I heard.

She’d have the tools for the task, and the cunning to have survived till now.

Hurry, Old One. The ritual can’t commence while you remain host to that writhing root.

Seek the one exiled from Bellhart, little Yarnaby. She was chased out into those soaked moors, last I heard.

She’d have the tools for the task, and the cunning to have survived till now.

Our spells’re woven, our parts prepared. Whenever you’re ready, lay up on the dais and we’ll begin.

Best you don’t dawdle now. Pharloom’s time is short, and those hearts won’t go on beating forever.

The hearts you seek, we can share their locations as best we know.

Three will be needed to construct our spell and draw clear memory of the flower from your Silk.

Bring us the hearts, Old One. Make’em beat, fierce and final. See for yourself the forgotten strength of this land of bugs before we burn those memories in its saving.

Up top of those caves lost to wind and sand rests a crusted old ruler, a once great warrior king.

In their prime, they and their order held half of Pharloom under hardened claw. Some bugs relished that strength. Most lived in fear of it.