#bughunt

Prompts:

1 – engine/motor/car/closed door

2 – star/local

3 – arrow/style

4 – smack/gift

5 – target/arranged marriage

6 – little/alcohol

7 – fix/laughter

8 – bad decisions/child

9 – thank you/hair mishaps

10 – right or tight fit/hoodies/hat

11 – heist/pick up

12 – interruption/drip/drop

13 – drug/deceit

14 – feather/healthy

15 – song/birds of prey

16 – France/marshmallow

17 – outlaw/hide and seek

18 – ride/cat fight

19 – addicted/bug

20 – fletch/shiver

21 – half-naked/in your dreams

22 – ransom/mouse

23 – quiver/sunburn

24 – shower/caught

25 – thirsty/grave

26 – death/deep end

27 – slick/(re)growth

28 – torture/life

29 – tender/raison d’etre

30 – baby/waltz

In briefing Nafani discussed the situation. A goblin outpost--a large one--had gone radio silent. Without word even from scouts sent to investigate the cause, the highest of Horde officials have decided to send in the Hunt, believing something more to be amiss. The details given being scarce. The only comfort for the group was the generous amount of pay they had received before the job was to be done. And so the Hallowed Hunt set out on a recovery mission of great importance.

From what little civilization there was to be found in the great desert they traveled across arid sands to uncover the fate of the silent outpost. There they found a scene that left little chance for optimism, with much of the group already having accurate guesses as to the cause. Bugs. Silithid. A fair assumption, even with no active hives visible in the miles they’d traveled. The outpost was in shambles, evidence of acid use, of maulings, and improvised weapons. In light of ruined digging equipment they suspected a mining operation gone wrong, which was only confirmed as they uncovered tape recordings...all from a particular goblin.

[The tape crackles and opens into a quiet white noise, dragging into nothing in what at first seems to be a malfunction of a failing device. A feminine voice breaks through the harsh overlay, caught in the middle of a sentence. “-is what they was sayin’. But I’m not buying it! There’s something goin’ on around here. Everything’s all hush-hush and the pay is way too good to be true...which means whatever we’re out here diggin’ for, Gallywix wants it somethin’ fierce! Guess I can’t complain, it’s safe enough. Not like dealin’ with the bugs down in Silithus. If anythin’, gonna have to keep our eyes peeled for those Alliance suckers. Apparently we got competition...,”]

[The tape player stutters to life. It hiccups a bit in attempting to play the recording, but eventually the rough playback smooths out to something one can understand. “Operation’s been runnin’ smooth... I know what all the buzz is about now. We struck the stuff yesterday and it’s been non-stop haulin’ all through the night! People won’t stop talkin’ about it neither... But can ya blame em? This stuff is just oozin’ energy. Magic? Maybe both... All I know is that the stuff is fun to hold. It’s all like..pow... Right at your fingertips! Guess you gotta get your hands on the stuff to understand.”]

An artist’s depiction (found in the remnants of their operation desk) of the mysterious and powerful new resource gave a clue to just what, not only what the goblins wanted, but what the Horde wanted. With most of the outpost picked clean of clues, the group set up their own camp not too far off. The morning would bring more substance to their investigation.

As sunrise came the group set out to the nearby quarry, where a mine had been dug deep into the crust of the earth beneath the shifting sands. Despite the carnage of the outpost behind them there was a distinct lack of bodies for the missing numbers. And so they ventured into the darkness of the underground. No sign of the curious new ore could be spotted, not in carts or within the walls. Soon they stumble upon a relatively preserved operation table. Here they uncovered yet another tape, that same voice playing for them.

[With no small amount of effort the shoddy, barely functioning tape player begins to process the recording. The sound quality is low, intelligible. “People been goin’ missin’ down here.. That’s not really a surprise, explosions and pit falls an’ all... But it’s gettin’ a lil ridiculous! Production and morale is goin’ down the drain at this rate. This is losin’ us money by the minute. Can’t help but wonder where they all disappearin’ to though. Bodies ain’ turnin’ up. For all we know, no bodies around to find... Welp, my break is over. Back to work!” The tape clicks off.]

It is shortly after this that the group is drawn down a particular tunnel by the faint, distinct sounds of what could only be someone in distress. Weary moans led them, guided by their lantern light, deeper and deeper still into the mining shafts...until the walls themselves began to change. Before the group new it they would find signs of life--of a hive--as rock gave way to squishy, pliable nesting material. The air grew pungent and rotten.

And they found a goblin. Breathing shallow, weak, but no doubt alive as he begged them to set him free. From out of the muck and insect grime Kurtdur would pull the survivor out. But it was a brief victory. As the orc would attempt to heal and rejuvenate the unfortunate goblin, he began to convulse. In the beginning the group had suspected that Kurt merely accidentally began to drown the miner, until the goblin simply...popped. In a cloud of blood and gore he splattered open and sprayed in the group like they were in some sort of gruesome splash zone. 

Out from the body skittered a handful of young silithid, squirming and quickly running for cover. The disturbing and disgusting sight had the group eagerly attempting to slaughter them all--having never seen a reproduction as terrible as this. All of this caused plenty noise and drew far too much attention. They could hear the cries of other silithid, far more imposing by sound alone. It was here that they met Patsi. The goblin woman was the true lone survivor, seemingly uninfected and more than happy to spray the newly birthed young with the fires of her flamethrower. Before the group could be discovered by the angered hive the goblin led them to sanctuary, a hiding hole in which Patsi seemed to have been squatting in for much of her time in that nightmare.

Among the unopened cans of food and slips of rations, in the piles of rubbish, the Hunt spoke to the survivor (who they would recognize as the very same from the series of discovered tapes). The Hallowed Hunt so far had been the longest surviving investigators of the mess around them, at least by Patsi’s word. Most of the group were ready to leave by that point, having discovered the unfortunate fate of most of the mining operation. Still, Patsi was reluctant to depart. Her reason being the ore they had lost lives to haul to the Horde, a piece of which she produced to show in example to the group.

It was without a name (for now) and it’s shine caught the fancy of more than just a couple of the group. It thrummed with energy and lured the other goblins of the Hunt closer, as if in instinct. Patsi would display her guarded nature of the hunk of ore, claiming it to be hers and hers alone. 

Peace wouldn’t last long in Patsi’s haven. Despite the place being claimed to be hidden to the silithid outside, Kurtdur would sabotage the effort to survive the flood of angry bugs. In an effort to get outside to use...the little orc’s room...he exposed the Hunt to the flood of insects. Each one of them--rather than slaughtered and trampled to a pulp--were caught up in mandibles and knocked clean out as the chambered was filled with an organic gas.

It was a sleep they wouldn’t wake from for many hours.

When the Hunt was roused from their deep slumber it was to find themselves in the heart of the hive. Rather than a queen what sat in the middle of the chamber was an enormous mountain of that mysterious ore, glimmering bright and almost comforting in that dank, dreary place. It seemed to be compiled by the silithid themselves, whose carapace was twisted, hardened, improved in a way. They were quite the large breed, mutated and different than any breed witnessed before. Harvesting the material from beyond the walls of their hive they collected each haul, their young gnawing on the substance eagerly.

Those few of the Hunt that had stayed back to defend camp and provide backup had even been collected, slapped against the wall with their fellow members and caked in the porous substance that would have them all unable to move more than an inch. Kurtdur, however, was noticeably absent. As confusion and cursing of the situation set in a rather fat silithid individual lumbered its way to the group. Propagation of a hive without a queen was impossible by all rights, but as the seeming blind creature opens up curved mandibles and began to sickeningly cough up and deposit eggs at their feet...the group understood they had a time limit.

Zanahlaji, thinking (figuratively) on his feet, would lure the insect close with a series of clicks and chirps in a way it found familiar. The moment to came just a bit too close he managed to pry its mandibles free of its face and shove one straight down its throat. It fell dead and put an end to the threat of more eggs being placed around the group.

That was when Patsi showed up. Unbound and unharmed. The goblin mocked the group for how foolish they were, only praising the fact that perhaps they stood a chance on their own as she watched the silithid twitch and expire. Before the Hunt members could begin to attempt setting themselves free that lone surviving miner would hold them up, threatening them with her flamethrower should they move too quickly. All along Patsi hadn’t quite been honest with them. She revealed that in order for her to set them free, they had to agree to her terms. 

In a fit of greed and ingenuity she had learned to manipulate the mutated silithid, directing their actions with their own pheromones to slaughter all other competitors for the resource: her co-workers and even Horde scouts. Her method, of course, wasn’t perfect. The bugs refused to let her haul out the ore she pined so greatly for. The traitor had gone crazy for a resource she couldn’t reasonably escape with on her own. Jul’zasta had a remedy for the bargain she potentially offered though as he reached out and demanded for her to obey. 

With a practiced channeling of mind control the goblin was directed to set them free. And one by one they were. The eggs, so close to hatching, were smashed quickly and the threat of ending up like the prior goblin victim was snuffed. Patsi only came back to her right mind when it was too late. She disarmed and surrendered, leaving her at the mercy of the hunting party. 

As her fate was left for debate each member began to coat themselves in the guts of the fallen silithid, masking their scent from the majority of the hive. The similar method in which Patsi used. Disgusting as it was, it was effective. Freed from their bonds the group pondered what they were to do with the hive and the huge deposit of unnamed ore--something the Horde obviously valued.

The Hunt decided that their job was done. To exterminate an entire hive, let alone a hive so empowered, was above their pay. They were sent to investigate the fate of the outpost. And so they had. With Patsi under Nafani’s arm to lead the way out of the twisting maze of the underground, the group left behind the bountiful treasure. They slipped by most silithid unnoticed, and what individuals grew suspicious would be swiftly put down.

Once the hive gave way to the regular mine and then to the warmth and sunlight beyond the underground they would find Kurtdur...naked and sleeping not too far away. Unharmed, and clearly uninfected as he seemed no worse for wear. The traitor Patsi was passed off to be taken back to civilization, to face the justice the Horde would no doubt bring down upon her. That small, glowing little token of ore she carried taken by Nafani for safe keeping.