Brewer King 25 (Patreon)

“Sorry, friend,” Elgava muttered as San and she pulled Genreve out of his brigandine. The armor was soaked in blood and the fabric was torn, but it was whole unlike Elgava’s own armor.

They piled the salvaged weapons in the center of their small encampment, along with anything else they could find. The wounded groaned as they writhed upon the muddy ground, the rest of the surviving soldiers merely sitting down with stunned expressions.

The fight had been bitter and the losses steep. Of the twenty seven who had trekked northward, only eleven remained hale enough to do anything. Nine lay dead and the rest wounded. Four soldiers, two Guards and two Militiamen, remained along with the Mage, Ilagio, Bostarion, Elgava, and San. There was an additional two artillerymen who were still walking around, San hadn’t realized that the mortar had been overrun. The battos swarming past him and the defenses had torn up the fairly unarmored gunners, then fled off into the woods.

The result was that the mortar was unusable and the woollys they had pulled to the back to keep them from harm had been attacked, four lay dead with miraculously a working pair surviving.

“We have to go back,” Bostarion said.

“Aye, we’re fucked now,” Ilagio agreed. “We’re short on food and weapons. Most of us are wounded and we have three hard days of travel before we get back to the komai.”

“We’re not leaving,” the Mage said.

“Lad, you intend to kill us all?” Ilagio questioned.

“It’s Mage Lieutenant, Landed,” the Mage snapped. “We have a duty to the Barony. To destroy this scourge before it can grow. We have already killed the Guardian and most of the workers and warriors. It will be an easy task of going into the nest and killing the Birthing Mother.”

“Hetvana’s flaming cunt,” Bostarion cursed. “We’re done here, lad. We’re all gonna die if we go into that fucking nest.”

“Then we will have done our duty,” the Mage said, solemnly.

“Is there any other way?” San asked. The three men glared at him. “Perhaps we can build a great fire in the entrance of the cave, use my Power to keep them from exiting.”

“Who would maintain such a fire?” Ilagio demanded. “You? It is madness to think you will be able to keep such a fire going for more than a few days.”

“If need be, I will attempt it,” San said.

“He’s right, lad. We have already seen the creatures burrow out another exit, they will just do the same again and hit you from behind,” Bostarion said. “Even if we had Havatair’s enchanted flame, we would not be able to hold this position for more than a few days at most. We do not know when the Young Baron will arrive or if he will even arrive.”

“He will come,” Ilagio said.

“We have already lost much,” Bostarion said. “Too many have died in this expedition. We cannot lose anymore.”

“We will go in,” the Mage said. “I will go in.”

“Then I will pray for your soul come midwinter,” Bostarion said. “No one is fool enough to follow you into that hell.”

“I will go,” San said.

Elgava kicked San in the backside. “You are fucking mad, aren’t you?” she demanded. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“It needs to be done,” San said. “I can maybe do it.”

“Is your fucking head full of rocks and shit?” Elgava snapped. “Only a damned fool would think they can enter the lair of a batto queen and slay it.” She looked at the Mage as she said the last.

The Mage Lieutenant didn’t seem bothered by the outburst or San’s volunteering. He merely nodded his head at San.

“Where the fiery hell did Pavano find you?” Bostarion muttered. “Where you go, there goes death too.”

“What?” San asked. “Pavano said that?”

“No, lad,” Bostarion said. “He said you are god touched and that where you go, you challenge the horrors of this world. He didn’t mention all the fucking dying and killing.”

San mulled on his words. He frowned and looked to the jagged cave entrance. The air was still thick with the smoke fo the burning battos. The giant Guardian was still smoldering along with the others that had been caught in the Mage’s explosions.

He didn’t want to admit it, but Bostarion’s words felt like a strike too close to the heart of things. He had been in this world for a month and had been confronted by many unknown horrors. He had fought against man and monster, he had tried to keep his head low and out of sight, yet trouble seemed to come to him. The words of Winter’s Lament echoed in his mind. That he was the reason the monsters were showing up. That his soul brought them out to confront or kill him.

“We can take the rest of the gunpowder, blow the tunnels and collapse this nest upon itself,” San said. “A small group perhaps. It’ll be like… like a dungeon crawl.” San gave a brief smile at the words, the memory of the one and only time he had played DnD with some college friends. They had gotten drunk off his homemade beer and never finished the game.

“A dungeon crawl?” Elgava muttered. “What in Hetvana’s hell is that?”

“Just a thing from my homeland,” San said. He rubbed his face and looked back at the wounded and wagon. “If you leave the mortar and most of the supplies, the wounded can be taken back.”

Ilagio glanced to the exhausted troops. “Aye, we’ll need to drop everything and hope for the best.”

Bostarion muttered a curse under his breath. “I’ll be going with you, San,” he said. “Pavano’s gonna have some sour words if I don’t bring you back alive.”

Elgava grunted and cracked her neck. “I’ll join y’all if you’re intent on going,” she said. “It’s death with only an old man and a big fucker who can’t swing a sword.”

“You can count me out,” Ilagio snapped.

“The men will need leadership,” the Mage said. “Take them back to the komai, perhaps Zomia hasn’t left for White Tower yet.”

“Aye,” the Landed said.

“Prepare youselves,” the Mage said to San and the others. “We shall rest for a few hours and then we shall go. We cannot wait too long, for they will regroup.”

San nodded and the small meeting was adjourned. Ilagio began preparing for the journey back to the komai, while the Mage sat down to meditate or something. San wondered if that helped him regain his mana?

He was exhausted, but the thought of resting didn’t cross his mind. He got to his feet and headed to the wounded and began helping where he could. Elgava joined him and they worked without saying word. Elgava knew a lot of the soldiers and her face twisted with grief as they moved the dead and bandaged the injured.

“Fucking Mage,” she constantly whispered as she laid another friend to rest. “Rest easy, Mogin, you drunk fucker.”

San didn’t know what the proper burial rites were done for the Imperial dead. The only deaths he had seen were the abandoned trappers after the Nox attack and the three strong-arms who had tried to rob them. The trappers had been abounded and the others San had burned in the wagon.

“How is this normally done?” San asked.

“We usually burn ‘em,” Elgava said. “Imperial ways. That way no one can use thier bodies for dark magic.”

San didn’t know if that was something that actually happened. There were some things that were said that he didn’t know if it was reality or not. But in a world of magic and monsters, he suspected that it was a possibility.

“Then we’ll burn them, we have wood left from the defenses,” San said. Elgava nodded and they got to work.

It took them an hour to gather the firewood and set it up. Bostarion joined them and a few of the less injured soldiers. They stood before the pile of bodies.

“You were all brave fucks,” Elgava said. “No one will ever say otherwise. You had our asses covered and we stood by you to the end. Rest easy, mates. We’ll all be joining you sooner or later.”

There was a muttering go ‘ayes’ as a torch was set to the wood. It took a moment, but soon the fire began burning.

“Best clean up and get ready,” Bostarion told San and Elgava. “The Mage is about done.”

Bostarion took them to the pile of excess armor and weapons. From what San understood, the brigandines were expensive and even if someone had died in it, they would be salvaged. Even Elgava’s torn up brigandine was among the pile, with a smith or armorer being able to repair it later.

“These are for you, San,” the ranger said, gesturing to a pile of armor. San saw leg armor and pauldrons, along with steel back gauntlets. “Who they belong to doesn’t matter. We’re going into that hellhole and it’ll be cheek to ass fighting, lad. We all need every bit of protection.”

San nodded at the reasoning. “Uh, I have no idea how to put this on,” he said.

“Like a moon faced babe, this fucker is,” Elgava muttered, shaking her head. “Get your big ass here and I’ll show you.”

The extra metal weighed San down, but as he hopped and stretched, it was still easy to move around in. He headed toward the crates of gunpowder and joined the Mage.

The young man was intently examining a crate of metal canisters that length fo San’s hand. He paused as he saw them, realizing that they were grenades or perhaps a pipe bomb of some sort, thought he supposed they in the end did the same thing. The Mage pulled one out and frowned, setting it aside from the others.

“Grenades?” San asked, crouching down by the Mage.

The young man looked up at him, his face expressionless. He merely nodded to San and returned to his task. San watched for a while, not saying anything. He didn’t know how to talk to the young man. They had been traveling for nearly three days and he hadn’t said more than a handful of words to the man. The Mage tended to keep to himself, often not joining the other men even where Ilagio occasionally joked or cursed the soldiers. The Mage sat alone, slept alone, and didn’t talk much. Yet he was the leader of the troops.

“The fighting will be close quarters,” Bostarion said walking up to them. “Cut the fuses short, they’ll have to be used fast. Although if Hetvana has anything to say about it, it’ll probably bring the whole nest down upon us.”

Elgava waddled up to them, dropping a load of pistols upon a tarp before them. She let out a ragged breath and looked at everyone as they stopped to stare at her. “A bit smokey, sure, but we’ll be needing every weapon we can get our hands on down there.”

“Aye,” Bostarion muttered picking up a pistol and began loading it.

San helped and they sat in silence as they loaded the weapons and prepared themselves for the fight to come. San finished up, then wandered to fill his water bladder and check on his supplies. The wagon returning to the komai would be taking nothing but food and the wounded. All the other equipement was being abandoned to ease their return.

He double checked his pack, inventorying the items he still had on him. Compass, camping cookware, his water bladder, the camp saw, his bag of fire starting matches and lighters, the nearly empty first aid kit, flashlight, headlamp, and various other implements. He checked his revolver, wondering if he could find some cleaning oil or tools to keep it maintained. The four rounds were all that was left in the weapon and San didn’t know what he was saving it for. A matchlock pistol did almost the same amount of damage as the revolver, although he would need five loaded to keep up with the rate of fire.

The last thing he checked were his other weapons. The ornate dagger he had been given by Nexion, the camp knife he had in a sheath, the enchanted sword, and the little that remained in the canister of bear mace. San looked at the can, smiling at the memories of using it, on Wolfram and on Nexion and his men. There were also the two Nox matchlock pistols that Pavano had looted off the mercenaries. They seemed to be in good condition, even as he hadn’t really been maintaining them as he should have. He picked up his stainless steel water bottle and unscrewed the top. The heavy odor wafted up to him, the last of the Courage he had brewed.

Ilagio and others were loading the wounded onto the wagon. San walked up to them and took an iron pot. He filled it with wood and scraps of cloth, finally tossing a flaming brand into it. The pot began to smoke and soon a fire was burning from within it.

“Fire in the Night,” San said, putting his hands over the fire. The soldiers watched him silently. “I don’t know how long it’ll last, but try to keep this fire from going out. There are creatures in the woods.”

The soldiers nodded and gingerly moved to pick up the pot. Ilagio watched them, his face still grimacing with distrust.

San nodded to the Landed. He loaded his pack with more gunpowder and shot as he rejoined the others. Elgava handed San two additional pistols and a crossbow. San didn’t know how well the crossbow would work in the supposed caves of the nest, but didn’t refuse the weapon.

They all stood in silence, looking at one another.

“Let’s be off then,” the Mage said, hefting his pack and turning toward the cave.

“Senta watch over you!” a solider shouted.

“Kill that bitch!” another cried.

There was a ragged cheer as they hiked toward the cave entrance. Those that could shouted and cheered. The Mage waved and then they entered the cave.

***

“Hetvana’s arse, it’s hot,” Elgava complained.

“Better drenched in sweat than blood,” Bostarion said.

“Have been,” Elgava said.

Elgava’s ascendence to being Leveled had been revealed. Her new status as a [Steadfast Knight] wasn’t something the Mage or Bostarion had encountered before, but from some experimentation Elgava appeared to have a Power that allowed her to create a barrier for a few seconds, about five feet by five feet wide. Therefore she was placed in the lead with Bostarion following, then the Mage, and finally San taking up the rear.

The batto nest was similar to the farmhouse, the walls layered with thick resin like material, the smell was equally horrible, rot and death. The difference was that the corridors were tall enough for even San to walk comfortably in and there was an odd bioluminescent plant that grew everywhere, providing much needed light. San guessed it was a mushroom of some sort.

“Aren’t we supposed to be going down?” the Mage asked, as they took another turn and the path edged slightly upward.

“This nest is built into a cliffside and a mountain,” Bostarion said. “They might have just dug straight into it. This cave is natural, the battos must have found it and expanded on it.”

‘Then how did that big fucker come out nearly under us?” Elgava asked.

“Perhaps it dug a tunnel while we were busy fighting,” the ranger answered.

“It matters not. We just need to kill the Birthing Mother and then this nest will die on its own,” the Mage said.

“Can a new queen arise?” San wondered, the thoughts of bees or ants filled his head. He knew bees would give larva a special diet to make them into queens, did the battos do the same?

“No, only the queen can create another queen,” the ranger said.

“How fast can they create them?” San asked. “If the one Pavano and I killed in the farmhouse was a new queen and the one Bostarion killed was another new queen, that’s barely two weeks between the two.”

“No one knows about that,” the Mage said. “But the consensus is that older queen, well established queens can make many new queens. Most don’t because those queens begin competing against their former queens.”

San nodded as they continued down the dimly lit corridor. The natural cave itself ended as they came to another twist in the corridor, this time it was clear that the battos had excavated this area. The ceiling was lower and the resin was thicker. There was still enough room for everyone to stand, but it appeared more claustrophobic. The glowing mushrooms grew more abundant in these areas and the lighting was brighter.

“Arm yourselves,” Bostarion said. “We’re entering the nest proper now. Battos are known for creating hidden tunnels and will pop out behind you to stab you in the back. There might also be traps, false floors, tripwires, and even smaller battos hiding in the resin.”

“Sweet Senta,” Elgava muttered. “These fuckers are the worse.”

“Quiet now,” the Mage whispered. Everyone stopped talking and they crouched to the ground. Ahead of them the sounds of something skittering caused them to raise their crossbows.

Bostarion eased his way forward, pushing into the darkness and then disappearing around a bend. They all waited, anxious and ready to fire. San faced in the opposite direction of the others, Bostarion’s warning settling home.

“The tunnel opens up,” Bostarion said when he returned. “Big room about thirty feet across and twenty high. There are ten battos in there. Six workers and four warriors.”

“We hit the warriors with the crossbows, then take out the workers,” the Mage said.

Bostarion nodded and they eased their way forward. The tunnel dipped down and widened, allowing them to pause at the lip of the cavern. The four warrior battos were sitting in the center of the room while the workers were chipping away at the walls, extending the cave it seemed. The room was filled with the greenish bioluminescence they had become familiar with.

San crouched by Elgava and raised his crossbow. “I’ve got far left,” he whispered. She nodded.

“Now!” the Mage cried.

San sent the bolt flying, it slammed home into the batto’s back, pinning one of its wings to its body and sending it tumbling off its feet. The other three followed suit. The workers stopped in their work as San yanked back the crossbow cord and slotted in another arrow.

The first worker hissed in confusion, raised its eyestalks toward the four dead warriors and then before it could raise an alarm San sent a bolt into it. The worker flopped backward, striking its companions. In a moment, it was as if an ant nest had been kicked. The five remaining battos blindly charged them, letting out a screech.

“No pistols,” the Mage said as San pulled out his matchlock pistol. “Too much noise!”

San armed himself with his battered buckler and sword, standing up and making himself the focus of the battos attack. His three companions hurriedly cranked back their crossbow strings and reloaded. Three bolts flashed out as the batto workers surged up the ramp toward them. Two battos tumbled away and a third tripped the other two.

The workers fell in a tangle of hissing limbs and snarls. San rushed forward, punched a batto that was rising to its legs and then stabbed the other uninjured one. It squealed, but went limp. Elgava was at his side, she slashed down with her short sword and finished the one he had punched.

Silence filled the room as they breath heavily and waited. The cries of alarm and hissing seemed to have not been noticed. San and the others waited a while longer, taking the time to reload their crossbows. Nothing else arrived.

“Forward,” the Mage said. Bostarion nodded and led the way down into the cavern and toward another tunnel. There were three exits out of the cavern and San didn’t know if Bostarion was picking randomly or not. He supposed they would find out sooner or later.

“Senta this place reeks,” Elgava muttered.

San agreed, as they moved down the tunnel the stink that permeated the the place seemed to intensify. It brought back memories of the Flesh Horror’s lair, the sickening stench of rot, death, but also something more. As if the mere presence of these void monsters caused the very air around them to decay and warp.

In silence they trudged forward, until they arrived into another cavern. This time they all stopped at the lip and stared into it. San gulped, the scene before them was reminiscent of a space horror movie he had loved as a kid. Space marines, insect like alien monsters, colonists stuck to the walls, not as incubators here, but as food to be devoured by the newborn creatures.

“By all the holiness in the world,” Elgava whispered.

The room was massive, about three hundred feet across and one hundred feet high. San didn’t know how it remained standing as there were no pillars or supports to hold the massive room up. Within the chamber there were everything from skeletons to entire carcasses of half eaten beasts.

Endaha and Cassa had been stuck to the wall of the farmhouse with the resin, the same was done in this place. All the creatures, people, and other animals were attached to the walls, some moving, most dead.

“Where did they get those people?” the Mage wondered.

“They look to be Tribal,” Bostarion remarked. “There are hunters from the Tribes that go into the mountains to test themselves.”

“Sweet Senta, those poor fools,” Elgava said.

“One is still alive,” San said. He took out his binoculars and peered though the darkness with it. The bioluminescence wasn’t as bright in this room, due to its size, but he could make out the weakly struggling figure of a man attached to the walls.

“Poor bastard,” Elgava said.

San panned his binoculars around and stopped as he saw what lay at the far end of the chamber. It was a batto, but hugely massive. Around it swarmed worker battos, lifting and carrying ovoid fleshy objects that were being deposited onto the ground.

“The queen,” San said.

Everyone stopped speaking and peered across the chamber. In the dim light, it was hard to make out, but there she sat. A massive creature laying the eggs of her nest. To one side sat a smaller creature with a long fleshy cord connecting the two.

“It’s making another fucking queen,” Bostarion said.

“How are we doing this?” San asked, he peered around the chamber again. It was an entirely open area, they were in one of several tunnels that lead out of the cavern. It was very likely that if they began a fight, the other tunnels would spew out more workers or warriors.

“We need to do it fast,” the Mage said. “You hit that big batto with the catalyst rocks, can you do this too?”

San looked to the queen, she sat at the far end of the chamber. That was three hundred feet he would have to throw. The monster he had hit with the rocks was less than a third of that.

“I’m not sure,” San said. “We need the element of surprise. I can… try to get closer.”

“Fucking fool,” Elgava muttered.

“Alright,” the Mage said. “This is what we-“

The Mage paused and looked behind him. San followed his gaze but saw nothing. A moment later he felt it, a deep rumble that ran through the nest. Like a distant explosion.

“No,” the Mage whispered.

“What?” San asked.

“They’ve blown the entrance,” the Mage said.

“Who?”

“Ilagio. That was a blackpowder explosion. I can sense when its going off,” the Mage said. “They’ve blown the entrance that we used to get in here.”

“That’s madness. Why would they-“

A different rumble began to fill the air. San turned toward the chamber and saw that it was filling with more workers and warriors. The queen began making a keening sound and San knew they were screwed.