Dragon Mage 025 - Inside the Warren (Patreon)

390 days until the Arkon Shield falls

Cassandra had been spot-on about the location of the warren’s entrance. After travelling only a few dozen yards farther, we drew to a halt at the base of another hill.

A large hole had been dug out in the ground, and judging by the cobwebs stretched across its width, it was unmistakably the entrance to the spiders’ warren. Eight feet tall and about three feet wide, it was large enough for us to walk through upright—and suspiciously unguarded.

“You really want to go in there?” Tara asked.

“I do,” I said firmly. “The spiders are physically weak. And we know how to kill them now,” I said, gesturing to the club she held in hand.

Tara eyed me doubtfully, though she didn’t contradict my words. Laura rejoined us just then, bearing an armful of the small branches she had left to scavenge. We would need light inside. With a quick burst of flare, I lit each of the torches.

Then without further discussion, we descended in a single file into the warren. It was dank, dark, and mouldy inside and large stretches of cobwebs draped the sides of the gently sloping tunnels, further cementing my conviction we were in the right place.

But surprisingly, even after we had advanced a few yards into the warren, no spiders burst out of its depths to defend their home. I had expected us to be assaulted the moment we entered. Yet in the first twenty yards, we encountered no opposition.

What’s going on? I wondered. Something about this doesn’t feel right.

Presently, the entrance tunnel that so far had continued unerringly straight into the earth’s depths with neither twists, turns, nor side tunnels opened out into a large cavern, ten yards in diameter.

As we spread out across it, I spotted three other exits leading deeper into the warren. If we are going to be ambushed, it will be here, I thought. “Be careful—”

I broke off as a flood of Trials messages filled my vision.

You have discovered: a lair. Your skill in lore has advanced to: level 9. Name: Brown Spider Warren. Age: Infancy, less than thirty days old. Designation: Unclaimed. To claim this lair, defeat all its guardians.

Warning: You have entered the Brown Spider Warren with a party of six. The maximum allowed party size for this lair is five. Reduce your party. Time remaining before the warren is destroyed: 2 minutes.

“A lair,” I breathed in awe.

The others were also studying the messages that appeared before them, their expressions confused. “What is a lair?” muttered Tara.

“A lair,” I explained absently while re-reading the Trials messages with avid interest, “is similar to a dungeon, but differs in two notable ways. First off, they usually only contain a single type of creature, and secondly they can be claimed, whereas a dungeon cannot be.”

Silence greeted my words.

I closed the Trials message and turned to face the others. They were staring at me. “How do you know all that?” asked Tara finally.

“I read the Trials Infopedia.”

“Infopedia?” asked John.

I glanced across the five. “None of you are gamers, are you?” Their blank looks were answer enough. It was also clear they didn’t even know of the wiki’s existence. But now was not the time to explain. We didn’t have much time to get organised.

“I’ll tell you about it later. The important thing is that one of us needs to leave.”

But Tara was shaking her head. “No,” she said. “This is more than we bargained for. We all need to leave. We will reassess matters after we’ve reported to the commander.” She swung away, heading towards the entrance.

“Wait, Tara,” I ordered.

She turned around, surprised by the tone of my voice.

“I don’t think you understand what this discovery means,” I said. “A lair can be an incredible resource for the Outpost. If we claim it, the creatures spawned here will belong to the settlement.”

Tara stepped back towards me. “You mean they will be… domesticated?” she asked slowly.

“Something like that,” I replied. “It will take some work to mature the lair to full ally status, but to begin with the spiders from this warren will be neutral to the settlement. And,” I continued, seeing that she was beginning to be swayed, “the longer this lair is left unclaimed the stronger it will grow. At the moment, it’s still young. Now is our best chance of claiming it.”

Tara chewed her lip while she considered my words. It didn’t take her long to decide. “Cass,” she ordered, “you head back to the Outpost. Report directly to the old lady. Tell her what we found and what Jamie has surmised.” She glanced at me. “And make sure Captain Marcus is present when you do.”

I looked questioningly at her.

Tara’s lips curled down. “Like you, Marcus is a gamer,” she said. “He will make sure the commander understands the import of your words.”

So Tara knows I am a gamer, I thought. Yet strangely enough whatever dislike she felt towards gamers didn’t seem to extend to me. But it was not a topic to broach at that moment. Nodding agreeably, I swung back to study our surroundings.

We could not stay in the cavern long. It was too open, and we would be quickly overrun if the spiders assaulted us here. But which of the three exits do we take?

As Cass hurried out of the warren, another Trials message dropped open in my sight.

You party has been reduced to five. Lair run will begin in: 30 seconds.

I frowned as I read the message.

The countdown timer sounded ominous. While my knowledge had seemed to impress the others earlier, what I had told them was nearly the sum total of what I knew of lairs.

Yet the little I did know, pointed to the Trials itself exerting some form of control over a lair’s creatures. Why else had the spiders not attacked us when we entered the warren?

How the Trials achieved its dominance over a lair’s inhabitants, I had no idea, but its latest message also supported the notion. I couldn’t be certain what the Trials meant by a ‘lair run,’ or by the countdown timer, but if I had to guess… I would say we were about to be attacked.

“Tara,” I called. “When that timer runs out, I expect the spiders will swarm in through those three tunnels coming from deeper in the warren.”

“What numbers can we expect?” she asked, seeming to believe my expertise greater than it was.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But the lair is still in its infancy. We likely won’t face too many.”

Tara, thankfully, did not question the vagueness of my response. “Let’s back up into the tunnel we entered from,” she ordered. “Michael, John, plant the torches somewhere in the cavern. We’re going to need the light. Laura, you’re in the rear. Shoot over our heads when they come. John, you’re with me in the front—”

“No, Tara,” I said. “I have to be up front to use flare.”

She hesitated only for a beat. “Alright. John and Michael, you two behind us. Just like in the spear wall, stab over us into the spiders. Try to pin them in place with your spears.”

A chorus of “yes, ma’am” followed Tara’s orders, and we fell quickly into formation, retreating to where the entrance-tunnel fed into the cavern.

Tara and I took up position a few feet inside the tunnel mouth. The narrow opening would hopefully reduce the spiders we faced at any one time to a manageable number. Fastening my shield onto my left arm, I braced myself against Tara, who stood on my right and watched the cavern’s other openings.

My prediction proved correct.

As soon as the timer for the lair run hit zero, a stream of brown swarmed into the cavern from deeper in the warren. The spiders’ shapes were a blur and I couldn’t make out their numbers. Not waiting for Tara’s orders, I infused my mana with lifeblood and cast flare into the onrushing forms as they reached the mouth of our tunnel.

Dragonfire exploded outwards and drenched nearly the entirety of the tunnel.

The spiders were caught unprepared.

Limbs and torsos caught aflame, and eyeballs burst in the sizzling heat. Shrieking in fright, the creatures wheeled about and climbed all over one another in their haste to escape. And as quickly as the tide of brown had surged forward, it rolled back.

Eager to put an end to the spiders’ menace, I stepped forward, palms facing outwards and flames pouring out.

A hand gripped me, holding me back. “Wait,” said Tara. “Don’t be foolish. We will be overrun if we advance into the cavern. Let them come to us.”

She was right. I stepped back into formation and let the flames of my dragonfire die down. Turning my attention back to our foes, I observed the spiders. They had retreated to the far end of the cavern. Dancing along the cavern’s rim, they chittered angrily amongst themselves.

“I make out ten,” Tara said.

“Me too,” said John.

I nodded, agreeing with their assessment. There were more spiders than I’d expected. This could get messy, I thought. Perhaps Tara was right. Perhaps we should have retreated. It was too late for that now though. I was sure the lair creatures would not let us go.

The spiders all sported burns of some sort, but none looked incapacitated. I grimaced. My opening attack had failed to reduce the threat in any meaningful way, and while the creatures appeared afraid to attack again, they also seemed unwilling to let our intrusion go unanswered.

“Laura,” Tara called over her shoulder, “see if you can hit one. Let’s try and provoke the blighters into attacking again.”

“I’ll try,” said Laura doubtfully. “But the way they’re weaving about…”

“Give it your best shot,” Tara said. “Jamie, keep yourself ready.”

I nodded curtly and reformed the construct of dragonfire in my mind.

An arrow sped over my head and crashed into the cavern’s far wall, failing to hit any of its targets. But despite the miss, Laura’s attack spurred the spiders into motion again.

Just not in the way we expected.

Instead of charging towards us in one formless mass, the spiders split into four vectors of brown. Two raced along the left wall, two along the right, two sped straight across the cavern, and the other four… the other four leapt onto the cavern roof and surged towards us upside down.

My eyes widened and I gulped, realising only now why the dimensions of the warren were so odd. Because of course, the spiders didn’t just travel on the ground, the creatures were equally comfortable traversing the walls and roof of their warren.

But despite the unconventional approach of our foes, I reacted quickly. “I’ll handle the ones on the roof!” I shouted. “Keep the others at bay!” Casting flare, I turned my hand upwards.

Dragonfire leapt eagerly from my hands. Strained almost to the limit of my reach, the flames licked the tunnel roof. The incoming spiders attempted to dodge, but their own numbers hampered their efforts.

In a confusing zigzag of motion that failed to steer them clear of the flames path, all four spiders on the roof fell prey to my dragonfire. Well before they reached me or Tara, the creatures lost their perch and fell in a burning mess.

My hands tracked their motion, hoping to catch not just the original four with dragonfire, but the other six that had in the meantime converged on the party.

The spiders proved more cunning than I anticipated. As their burning fellows fell to the ground, the six scattered and scaled the tunnel walls on either side.

I screamed in silent frustration.

I could not target the spiders on the right tunnel wall with flare, not without endangering Tara. Given no other choice, I directed my flames to those on the left wall and the four still writhing on the ground. The rest of the party would have to deal with the three spiders clinging to the right wall.

Dragonfire roared out and scorched rock and spider alike. The three racing along the left wall tried to evade the inferno, but there was nowhere for them to hide, and the only way to run was back. And already, it appeared too late for that.

Trapped squarely within the flames, the spiders caught alight. Near instantly, the sensitive hairs that allowed the creatures to cling to walls, burned to nothingness. The three skittered desperately for purchase, but their fall was inevitable. In a tangled heap, they joined their four burning fellows.

I extended both my arms and focused my dragonfire on the seven curled-up spiders. Some tried to rise and advance once more, but the ongoing damage they sustained was too heavy. With the fate of my foes certain, I glanced to my right to see how the others fared.

They were holding the three spiders at bay—barely.

The creatures seemed wary of the spearmen’s weapons. Dancing along the walls, the spiders feinted forward in attack, but a jab of John’s spear was enough to send them scuttling back.

The reach of Michael and John’s spears served to keep the spiders off the roof and walls, but it did not stop them from rushing Tara. As I watched—helpless to intervene—one of the spiders leapt at the black-haired fighter while the other two menaced her from the ground.

Tara was alive to the danger though. Striking out with her shield, she bashed away the creature with her shield.

Before the dazed spider could recover, Michael surged forward and pinned it with his spear, affording Tara the opportunity to lay into the beast with her club. But with both Michael and Tara momentarily occupied, the other two spiders saw their chance to strike.

With a running leap, both creatures launched themselves through the air. At me.

In horror, I watched the spiders flying towards me. I could not turn my dragonfire upon them—not without releasing the other seven from the flames or hurting Tara.

Tara’s head whipped up, seeming to sense the spiders’ motion. Her club flashed out. She was a fraction too slow though, and the spiders passed by her unharmed.

John, standing tall, thrust downwards with his long spear over me. Relief surged through me as the big man skewered one of the creatures.

But that left the other.

At the last moment, just as the remaining spider crashed into me, I cut off flare and attempted to fend away my attacker with my right arm.

It was not enough.

The nimble creature skittered over my arm too fast to follow, and before I could do aught else, the dog-sized spider wrapped its legs around my shoulders and bit down.

I froze.

In an instant, icy numbness suffused my body and I couldn’t move. My left hand was still extended and locked in position. My eyes stayed staring wide-open, fixed on the scene of the seven charred spiders, still alive, but moving too feebly to be much of a threat anymore. My right hand was unresponsive too.

I am helpless, I despaired.

I swayed as the monster wrapped itself around my neck and dug its claws into me. Sharp pinpricks of pain assailed me. This is bad, I thought inanely. Despite the paralysis, I could still feel everything.

A roar split the air. John, I thought. Next, a shadow flicked across my vision. A thrust spear? Finally, Tara’s club came hurtling down onto the spider—and me. Pain blossomed across my right shoulder, and it felt as my bones there had been crushed.

I didn’t begrudge Tara the injury though. As long as she gets the damned spider off me, I don’t care. The weight on my back lifted. The spider leaping off. Fully unbalanced by the motion, I toppled backwards.

Cool hands on my back slowed my fall. Laura’s. Gratitude swelled up in me.

My companions had rescued me.

✽✽✽

I was a helpless spectator to the rest of the battle, but that didn’t concern me much as the others made short work of the remaining spiders.

By the time my paralysis wore off, all ten spiders were dead and I had gained another level.

You have gained in experience and are now a: level 14 Trainee.

I gasped and breathed in deeply as I regained control of my body. “That was not pleasant,” I muttered.

My companions looked up from their labours. Michael and John were piling the corpses together while Tara and Laura kept watch.

“You alright?” Michael asked, walking back to lend me a helping hand up.

“Yeah, thanks,” I said, as I cast lay hands onto myself. Once again, I was the only one who had taken any meaningful damage. This is becoming tiresome, Jamie.

I limped to Tara and Laura’s side. Tara swept her gaze over me, making sure I was alright. “We go on?” she asked, her face betraying no hint of her own feelings on the matter.

I was surprised. Not by the question itself, but that Tara seemed to be leaving the decision to me. I hesitated for a moment before answering, “Yes, this lair is young. Those spiders we killed must be the bulk of the lair’s creatures. There can’t be many more left.”

There couldn’t be, could there?

Tara nodded, her face still expressionless. “Which way, then?” she asked, pointing out the three exits.

I gazed at the tunnels in question. The two on either end were smaller than the one in the middle. “We check all three,” I answered, “but let’s leave the large one for last.”

We set off in a single file down the left tunnel. In short order, the tunnel shrank even further, forcing us to duck our heads and walk bent over.

It left us vulnerable, but it at least meant the spiders could only come at us one at a time. Unless more of the damn creatures are buried underfoot, I thought sourly. To guard against the possibility of that, Tara took the lead and jabbed her spear in the ground as we went.

In the end, no attack came, and the seemingly unfinished side tunnel came to an abrupt end twenty yards in. Relieved not to be forced to fight in such close quarters, we backed out and explored the right tunnel.

It too was empty, and stopped short in a wall of bare soil just a few yards in. More than anything else, the two unfinished tunnels were evidence of how young the lair was. Ten spiders in a warren only days old, I thought, chewing on my lip. What will a fully matured lair look like? And what will it take to claim such a lair?

We returned to the cavern and prepared ourselves. It was in all of our minds that whatever still occupied the warren, likely awaited us in the main tunnel.

✽✽✽

We were five minutes into the main tunnel before we encountered our first branch. A smaller passage opened out on the left.

“Wait up,” said Tara as she drew to a halt across the opening. She tilted her head to the side. “You hear that?”

Quietening my breathing, I listened. A low-pitched hum emanated from the tunnel.

“What is that?” John whispered.

Frowning, I strained my ears. The noise was familiar. It almost sounded like… chittering.

“More spiders,” Laura said, echoing my own thoughts. The others dropped their hands to their weapons, and I readied flare. For a drawn-out moment, we waited.

But when after nearly a minute the expected attack did not materialise, I let the spellform I held in readiness dissipate. The chittering continued unabated.

“We have to go in,” I said.

Tara glanced to me.

“If whatever is in there hasn’t attacked yet, it isn’t likely to, and we can’t wait here all day.”

“Alright, but just you and me,” Tara said. She turned to the others. “You three stay here. If anything comes up the tunnel, shout. And if whatever is in this side passage is too much for us to handle, we will come straight back. Be ready.”

The others nodded and we set off.

The side passage carried on straight for less than five yards before bending sharply to the right. Hearing Tara’s sharp intake of breath as she rounded the corner, I hurried forward to join her but was stopped short—just as she had been—by the sight that greeted me.

The tunnel had opened up into another small chamber that was filled with dozens of hanging cocoons. Below them were scores of little spiders, feeding hungrily on whatever lay within.

It’s a nursery, I realised.

Standing in the centre of chamber, with its forelegs raised in warning, was a single adult spider. It was guarding the young—which explained why it hadn’t attacked yet.

Tara glanced at me, the question on her mind clear in her expression.

To be sure of what we were facing—and what had to be done—I picked out one of the small and helpless looking spiders and cast analyse upon it.

The target is a level 2 brown spiderling. It has no Magic, meagre Resilience, is gifted with Might, and has low Craft.

“We have to burn them out,” I said grimly.

Tara opened her mouth to protest, but I forestalled her. “If we don’t, we can’t claim the lair, and,” I added, pointing to the spiderlings, “they may not look like much now, but in a few days or weeks’ time they will be fully grown. What happens after that? With hundreds of the brown spiders running around, the foothills will be closed to the Outpost for a long time to come.”

Tara closed her mouth and nodded reluctantly. “How do we do it?”

“Get behind me,” I said. After Tara moved into position, I hefted the torch I still carried and flung it into the room.

The flaming stick fell amongst the webbed cocoons and set them alight. And though the fire spread neither fast enough nor hot enough to burn the room’s occupants, the spiders didn’t know that. In a flood of brown, they fled the only way they could—directly towards us and my waiting dragonfire.

It was over in seconds.

The spiderlings crisped into near nothingness almost instantly. Only the nursery’s guard—the sole adult spider— threatened to put up any sort of fight, but even it failed to reach me through the scorching flames.

When the deed was done, more than two hundred small carcasses littered the ground, and I gained another level.

You have gained in experience and are now a: level 15 Trainee.

In disgust, I dismissed the Trials message. The spiders may have proven themselves hostile, yet the killing I had done in this room still left a foul taste in my mouth.

Without a backward glance, I swung around and left. Wordlessly, Tara followed on my heels.

The others seemed to sense our mood when we rejoined them and silently fell into position. As we made our way deeper into the lair, I hoped that whatever else we encountered in the warren was nothing like what we had found in the nursery.