Antelligent Design

43. The Impact

It takes several more hours of hard travel before we make it to the first group of buildings. A small cluster of farmhouses built close to each other. Perhaps a family holding or a collection of folks gathering together for protection and company.

We spot them a long way out. The tall, pointed roofs of the barns poke above the tree line, letting us know well in advance we’re close to our destination. Even from a distance, the damage done is apparent. Jagged edges run down the side of the barn where smooth lines are expected. Open holes in the thatch work and the lack of smoke from the chimneys speak to what we can expect to find.

I harden my heart and continue to run. I can’t help but glance toward Morrelia the closer we get. Her eyes are tight with emotion. Whether worry or anger, I can’t be sure. I hope she doesn’t get too angry. Going on an anti-monster rampage might be understandable when surveying their wreckage, but in her present company, it might make things a little awkward.

Our steps are quick and it doesn’t take long to close in on the buildings, their condition exactly what I imagined it would be. Crumbled walls, smashed doors, claw marks on the ground, the stones, the trees… claw marks pretty much everywhere.

It’s obvious monsters have run through here and destroyed this small settlement. The most unfortunate thing is the clear signs of struggle. A twisted pitchfork lies on the ground between two sturdy tables that had been braced against the door of the largest stone house. To one side is an old, rusted sword snapped in half. On closer inspection, the indentations of powerful teeth can be seen on the blade. A sign of where a creature had bitten the sword to pieces.

It’s horrible to imagine. A group of farmers, gathering together to try and hold off a swarm of creatures from the Dungeon. Something they didn’t know much about, something they would never have expected to see. How would they have felt during that final struggle?

Most chilling of all is the complete lack of any sign of the people who fought here. No remains for burial. No torn limbs. Not even a blood stain.

As if a monster would ever leave Biomass behind.

Crawling over the buildings, up the walls and over the shattered ceilings, hits me hard. This was what the refugees were fleeing. This was the fate of the thousands, tens of thousands, of people who hadn’t made it out. Perhaps they hadn’t heard in time or underestimated the danger. Perhaps they just didn’t believe it could happen.

Whatever the reason, it cost them dearly.

Against my will, horrible visions of returning to the nest, only to find it destroyed and despoiled, fill my mind. My siblings vanished, eaten by our hated foes. The queen, my mother in this life, left a lifeless shell in her royal chamber. All signs of the brood would be gone: no eggs, no fat, squiggly larvae, no future for my kind at all.

Terrible! Unforgivable! I would be heartbroken, filled with anguish and rage should such a thing come to pass.

Which is exactly why I’m avoiding Morrelia…

The leather clad berserker stomps around the site. Her tension rises with every sign of futile combat we uncover. Her fists clench and her neck muscles grow taut until I’m concerned her head will snap off from sheer pressure.

Even Tiny can see it, and despite his normal, fight-happy attitude, he doesn’t appear to want to draw the attention of the dark-haired warrior. I suspect he just doesn’t want to be a punching bag since he’s able to recognise that Morrelia is an ally and he wouldn’t be able to fight back.

Unable to restrain her anger any longer, Morrelia explodes with a guttural roar of fury and smashes one backhanded fist into a barn wall. The only sound is the echo of her rage as she stands, breathing deep, before the barn wall collapses, crashing into the ground and bringing the roof with it.

Nice punch…

After a few more moments to gather her thoughts, Morrelia starts looking about. I have a sinking feeling she’s looking for me. Sure enough, she manages to spot me in my totally obvious resting place behind the chimney of another building. After waving to indicate I should join her on the ground level, she taps one finger to her forehead, a frown creasing her face.

Not very patient, are you? Sorry if I can’t weave the mystical fibres of this world into a universal translating mind-joining bridge of sparkling complexity that would put a hundred spider webs to abject shame on your schedule!

The nice thing about having multiple minds, is that I can quite comfortably weave my spells whilst complaining internally. Plenty of spare brain power to go around.

[You ok over there?] is my tentative opening line.

My concern only serves to upgrade her frown into a glare.

[I’m. Fine. I want to move on. Find some monsters to kill.]

[Of course, we’d have to move to find those. Since there sure aren’t any of them here! Ha! Ha! Haaaa…]

Please don’t berserk and kill me, crazy lady.

Morrelia only snorts at my words. [Where are we going?]

[Well, I suppose we keep heading north, find the nearest town,] I say. [If we come across any fresh-looking monster tracks, we could follow them, try to track down any bands of wandering beasties. Are you good at tracking?]

I’m sure not.

[I’m a fair tracker,] Morrelia assures me. [Let’s get going. I don’t want to stick around here any longer.]

[Fair enough.]

Leaving the depressing ruined farm buildings behind, we continue on our scouting mission. Three monsters and one human berserker. Our steady pace eats away at the distance as we move farther away from our allies and deeper into unknown territory.

The ant trails are starting to go cold this far out from the colony, the scouts unwilling to travel this far from the nest. I can’t blame them. Morrelia seems to have an excellent idea of the lay of the land in what used to be southern Liria, so she guides us toward the closest town. Hopefully, what we find there isn’t the same as what we just left behind. Only on a larger scale.