Chapter Three-Hundred Twenty-Three

    Bem

    The worker antkin tries to keep his cool as he walks with his fellow hunters. The others have dug an easier access tunnel to the volcanic area, where the Deans and the High Priestess are waiting to send them off. He glances at his fellow workers, Gim and Tob, and hopes they’re dealing with nerves better than he is. At first glance, it’d be easy to think they are, but Bem can see the rigidity in their posture and the tension in their mandibles.

    Looking to the other castes, it’s actually a relief to see them both looking nervous as well. Ran, the large rancher caste, has her spear in her hands and is trying to look confident, but her strong hand is gripping the haft hard enough Bem swears he can see it compressing, while her weak hand is twitching, trying to fiddle away her nervous energy.

    Jin’s apprehension is easier to spot, with her constantly patting her pouches and pockets, ensuring she has everything she needs. Her compound bow rests on her back next to the quiver, a selection of alchemical heads strung across her thorax in a bandolier. Her hands glide over each piece of equipment, her mandibles twitching as she confirms them in her head for the tenth time or more.

    Bem tries not to worry about going out into the wild volcanic region, remembering the assurances of the crafters about all their gear. The armor will protect from the heat, don’t forget to link the shields if needed, keep your eyes peeled, and more advice all seem to merge into a half-remembered sludge. He just hopes he’ll remember things clearly if anything goes wrong.

    Before he can start imagining the ways things could go wrong, his group rounds the bend and sees the Deans and the High Priestess, as well as Elder Larx and Warmistress Folarn. The Deans are better at hiding their nervousness than Bem and his companions, but the way they stand makes him think they’re relying heavily on High Priestess Aranya and the leaders from the other enclaves to keep their semblance of confidence.

    The High Priestess looks completely at ease, smiling easily as she spots the hunters. Elder Larx smiles as well, his eyes seeming to take in every detail in a few moments before shining with pride in his soon-to-be fellow dwellers. The Warmistress of the spiderkin looks more scrutinizing in her appraisal of the party, and when she gives a small nod of acceptance, Bem feels much more confident in their ability to not just die out there. Huntsmistress Vernew would probably better know if they’d be able to actually bring something back, but the large tarantula woman’s approval speaks well of their ability to come back in the first place.

    There’s no grand speech as the hunters reach the leaders, but rather a simple prayer invoked by the High Priestess. “May Lord Thedeim bless this hunt to be fruitful and see you all return safely. If He sees fit to only grant one, let it be safety.” She finishes with a smile as a comforting blanket of orange descends over the antkin.

    The little joke at the end doesn’t lift Bem’s spirits much, but it does at least help him remember what should be their highest priority out there: don’t die. He’s not certain if he or the others would go to Lord Thedeim’s afterlife or return to their spawner, but nobody is eager to find out. Either way, there’s no reason to take wild risks. The crafters have been working to reduce the risk in their own way, while their training has been to reduce it further.

    He and the others stand straight, antennae crossed in a salute, before Bem replies. “We’ll be careful High Priestess, Deans. We’ll bring back meat or knowledge, either will help the enclave.”

    The gathered leaders nod and step aside to let them pass, nobody standing on ceremony. If all goes well, they’ll have ceremony enough when they officially become dwellers. They march with purpose and dignity until they round a bend in the tunnel, finally letting them relax a little and release the tension they’ve been holding.

    As a group, they all sag, each exhaling a long sigh.

    “No pressure...” mutters Tob, earning a snort of amusement from Gim.

    “Just the future of the enclave, no big deal, right?” The nervous laughter helps ease the tension further, and soon they all collect themselves. They don’t need to talk as they continue down the tunnel, the temperature rising even as their armor keeps them comfortable.

    “Feels like the armor’s working,” comments Jin as she takes her bow in hand, and the others nod, with Ran speaking the thought on everyone’s mind.

    “Hopefully it works as well against the beasts as the heat.”No?v(el)B\\jnn

    Soon, the tunnel opens up into a large cavern, a large magma flow winding through it and providing light. Tall mushrooms dot the subterranean landscape, with smaller varieties much more common. Lichen covers the floor like grass, with some acting like vines and clinging to the walls and ceiling, as well as draping over the tall mushrooms. Fiery bats flit about, too high to make tempting targets to hunt, at least just yet.

    “That’s a lot of meat,” points out Teb.

    “And a lot of critter to fight,” counters Ran.

    “Do you think we can handle it?” asks Bem, and Ran considers.

    “If it’s on its own and doesn’t seem bothered, it’s probably meaner than most things around. The sides’ll have thick hide, but that’ll probably be easier to get through than that thick skull. Definitely watch for the horns, even from the side.”

    “Do you think the glue will work?” asks Jin.

    “Hmm...” Ran and Bem peek out of cover to take a better look at the bison and the surroundings, before ducking back.

    “I think I’d try the sleeping spores instead,” suggests Bem, with a nod from the rancher.

    “I think that thing’ll be stronger than the glue, yeah.”

    Jin nods and affixes several sleeping heads to her arrow shafts. “I’ll pepper it as long as it stays at range, then switch to hunting heads.”

    “Ran will take the left if it gets close, and we’ll take the right,” says Bem, and that’s all the planning that’s needed. They learned long ago in training that trying to plan something fancy was just a good way to tangle everyone up. It’s better to have a basic plan, and adjust on the fly as needed.

    As a group, they move back out, and Jin lets the first sleeping arrow fly. She hits it right in the side of the head, causing it to sneeze as it breathes in the spores, and shakes it head a few times before resuming eating. “I hope it’s not immune to these kind of spores...” laments Jin as she fires again.

    This time, it lifts its head and looks around, wondering what’s going on. It eyes the group for a long minute, who all stay still, before it resumes eating. “One more, and if that doesn’t work, we’ll have to do this the hard way.” Jin looses a third arrow and hits it right in the snout, triggering a violent sneezing fit from the bison before it looks around once more. Its gaze settles on the party again, and stays there longer than before as they wait for it to either go back to eating or fall asleep.

    Thankfully, its lids start to droop as the spores finally do their job. It staggers away, but is easy enough to follow by sound alone, so they let it think it’s away from them as they follow it. Soon enough, the noises quiet, and they sneak closer to find it asleep, legs tucked underneath itself. They quickly coordinate then surround the sleeping bison, each one taking their own target.

    The crossbar for the boar spear is set too close to the head for Ran to really have a shot at reaching anything important from the side, but a good stab to the throat should work well enough. Bem, Gim, and Tob each prepare to go for the legs, looking to sever the tendons and minimize the potential thrashing. Jin stands at the head, ready to fire a hunting arrow into its eye and hopefully into the brain. They all prepare carefully, with Ran slowly maneuvering her spear closer and closer. They all tense as she touches its hide, but it doesn’t wake. This lets the others place their weapons exactly where they want, and the four melee hunters strike as one.

    They’re forced back as heat blooms from the bison, its blood looking like magma as it flows from the beast. Luckily, the triple dose of sleeping spores keeps it asleep until it’s asleep forever. They all sigh in relief once it no longer draws breath, and keep giving it space to let the fiery blood continue to drain.

    “I think that’s a successful hunt, everyone. We’ll let it drain as much as we can, gut it, then carry it home,” congratulates Bem, and they all give a cheer at that. Sure, they need to make sure nothing comes by to steal their hunt, but after the success of downing the bison, they feel confident in handling any scavengers who think they can get an easy meal.

    Happily, nothing shows up to try to contest it, and after an hour, they heft the bison to carry home.