#creativegeneric

“Once we find Felide,” your fellow short troll replies. He hops down from his perch atop an inconspicuous pile of rocks, rolling up the map he was working on and shoving it in his pack. “I can’t imagine where she’s gone! Have you seen her?”

“Neither hide nor hair!” Dilwyn replies with a hearty laugh, and you sock him in the arm.

The entrance to the brooding caverns lies in the shadow of a natural landmark. From most angles, you can’t begin to make out the shape of an entryway, just barely big enough for a drone. On closer inspection, however, even the jades’ careful camouflage can’t save them from prying eyes. It’s a good thing you don’t mean them any harm.

So you go down. Lantern held aloft by Dilwyn’s steady hand, he illuminates the tunnel before you as you begin your descent. Everything is quiet. Too quiet. Your footsteps echo off the walls several times but no other sound comes to your ears.

You must have walked for about a mile before you hear a shuffling sound, freezing and holding one hand up for Dilwyn and Karkat. It came from the left tunnel of the fork before you - you don’t speak, only point. Karkat readies a defensive weapon and Dilwyn sets his jaw, and when a glance between all three of you confirms you’re ready, he moves to round the corner.

What you find, though, isn’t anything like what you expected. Trolls are huddled in one corner, most of them aged and wrinkled, and clutched fearfully in their arms are a handful of trolls that couldn’t be more than four or five sweeps old. Dilwyn turns the lamp away, letting the light hit the wall instead and fill the room with a softer glow, and you approach the trolls with your palms out, face up: You mean them no harm. When you kneel in front of them they begin to relax, and you even manage to ask some questions.

Perigees ago, genetic material stopped coming in. The drones completed their last rounds and simply shut down. The last eggs have nearly all hatched, but most of the latest wrigglers haven’t pupated. Food, they say, is scarce: No one is bringing them anything anymore, and it shows in their frail bodies, bones pronounced. Without reliable contact with the surface, they have no idea of the political turmoil and chaos above-ground: No one even bothered to tell them they could go free. Most of the older ones don’t want to go at all.

The lusus populations, too, are suffering without food. There aren’t enough lusii to match the wrigglers’ proper castes, and those that are still alive are noticeably weaker, like Beeper’s lusus. They don’t have the energy to care for grubs and trolls properly, let alone even make it out of the caverns. This means there will be more grubs like Ceteus and Beeper, abandoned and alone - which means the three of you have still more work to do, and a plan to make.

At the moment, only the elderly and the young remain in the caverns. They heard you coming and tried to hide. The younger, more able-bodied adults have left for the surface to look for food, news, anything they could find, and some have yet to come back.

All three of you sit down with them once they’ve relaxed, removing what food you’ve brought from your sylladexes. You’ll share with them the absurd amount of stew Dilwyn brought with him, the melon slices and bread and water.