One day turned into two, and then into three. With Azrael at the front using her enhanced senses, they were able to avoid most of the more dangerous encounters. That said, the days were not without incident as Teyva had her first encounter with Rilks. They had just crossed into a valley between larger hills were the grass had thinned out in favor of some dusty plains. Teyva had taken note of the sudden change just as Azrael had pointed out they should be ready for a fight in this open space.

“Rilks?” Elat asked, crouching down low and drawing his bow. Teyva gave the thing a once over when he drew it. It looked remarkably similar to a compound bow from her world. Long coiled ropes connected the rising and falling wavy shape of the bow. Azrael had warned her once that Orcish bowmen were startlingly dangerous and Teyva had seen first hand the sheer devastation one shot from Elat’s bow could mete out.

“Should be, Rilks chew and regurgitate the wildlands grass, using it as cement for their nests. With this much cleared out we should be seeing at least one or two out there,” She said, pointing into the dusty space. Teyva squinted searching the opening for some sign of movement but it was Nephral who finally pointed out one of the horrible little creatures. The Sphinx let out a low growl, craning his head a bit to the right and eyeing a large shape crawling out of the tall grass and into the open.

A rilk had the look of an ant at first. Its body was portioned into three parts with six legs, huge eyes, and a pincer-like mouth. That was where the similarities ended, though. Instead of a bare back, the rilk sported what appeared to be a heavy, segmented shell that shifted with the creature’s movements and covered it from head to the tip of its rear. The rilks abdomen was also slightly raised, its forelimbs possessing grasping claws that rested on the ground as it crawled along, turning its bulbous head left and right. The thing had to be two maybe even three feet tall.

Elat drew out an arrow and Azrael raised a hand; “Wait, where there’s one there has to be more, what is it doing all alone?”

The rilk paid them no mind, even with the towering frame of The Marble behind their group it swept its gaze over the surrounding grass before turning westward and scuttling into the grass. Elat lowered his weapon and Teyva dropped her hand from her satchel, she hadn’t even realized she’d begun to grasp at it.

“Those things are huge!” Teyva hissed, “What the hell?”

“You’ve never seen an insect of that size?” Azrael asked.

“No way!” She grunted, shifting a little on her heels, the way they were crouching was starting to get uncomfortable.

“Well we need an idea of what they’re up to, that one should have reacted to us,” Azrael said.

“Nephral, can you take a look?” Teyva asked. The sphinx obliged her and flapped his wings, hurling himself into the air and staring a circular climb. He was barely up there a minute before he came swooping back down onto Teyva’s shoulder. HIs eyes were wide with alarm.

“Mother, a caravan is approaching from the south and dozens of those wretched things are laying in wait,” Nephral said.

Teyva looked at Azrael and Elat. They could use the situation to their advantage and wait until the caravan was overrun before making a break for it. The very thought, though, sent a sickly feeling through Teyva’s guts. She wondered if that way of thinking was a residual of Rani’s influence. She worked her lips and looked out over the grass. Without a birds-eye-view, it seemed so peaceful. It was hard to believe that so many of those monsters were waiting just beneath the surface. She cleared her throat; “We help them.”

“Good,” Azrael said with a nod, drawing her weapon and starting a slow crouching walk around the open space and to the left.

“That thing knows we’re here,” Elat grumbled, “Why hide?”

“They’re ready to attack us if we show ourselves but they have a bigger prize on the line. Individual rilks are barely intelligent enough to make decisions but the larger ones are capable of a remarkable level of planning. If they’re plotting an ambush then we are close to a nest. I’d rather be the one ambushing them when they reveal themselves, not the other way around,” Azrael said.

“Good plan,” Teyva said, shifting her right arm into the whip form. She was pretty sure there were too many of these things to play caster the whole time, she’d have to get into the thick of it in some way. If they were as fast as she imagined she wanted a way to slow them down beyond using her [Grasp of Frost]. The razorchain’s ability to create slowing chains on hit would be invaluable here. She rolled her jaw and sent a command to her Mockeries to get ready for a fight. They responded with their signature delight and bloodlust. “Nephral, The Marble, stay close,” She ordered and moved to follow Azrael.

It was just as they had rounded the apex of the dead spot in the grass that Teyva caught the sound of horses approaching. She couldn’t count them by sound alone but there had to be at least a dozen. She rolled her jaw and glanced at Azrael who nodded, drawing her throwing knife out with her free hand and taking a deep breath. A few seconds passed as the caravan drew closer. Teyva could just barely see the tops of covered wagons when a shout rang out from that direction. A chorus of horrible screeches rose up as one single note in response and Azrael jumped to her feet, darting in the direction of their enemy, Teyva and Elat close behind.

Now that Teyva was standing she could get a full view of the situation. Six wagons were just in the midst of an arcing turn along what looked like a worn route through the tall grass. At the head of each wagon was a man or woman carrying crossbows and wearing light-looking travelling clothes. These people weren’t here looking for a big fight. Teyva’s eyes moved from the caravan to the swarm heading toward it. There had to be at least fourty of the awful-looking things. All of them scuttling towards the largely undefended caravan with frantic abandon.

Teyva used her journal on one of them to get an idea of what they were dealing with.

[Rilk Drone] - Hostile - Level 3

HP: 100% MP: 100% SP: 100%

Not bad. Not great either with the sheer numbers they were up against. Either way, they had no choice but to fight. She darted to the left while Azrael and Elat moved to the right. The big orc constantly moving to keep himself behind Azrael so her barrier would remain active. Teyva held her hand out and the mockery swarm took to the air, a single cloud of glittering gold rising from her satchel and hurling themselves in the direction of the enemy. Following them, The Marble let out a gurgling roar and began to scuttle in the direction of his next meal.

As arrows began to fly and Azrael’s sword sang, Teyva turned her focus to the first one she could see. She whipped her arm forward, using mana to extend the chain and wreath it in [Chill Touch]. With a clatter and a snap the chain cracked against the creature’s shell, the blades digging into the carapace. She whipped her arm upward with all the strength she could muster, flipping it onto it’s back and pulling hard. The razors that marked the links of the chain ripped the Rilk to shreds. Teyva couldn’t help but smile a little, she was getting better at this. It still felt a little strange at times how easily the chain twisted and curved when she willed it, behaving more like an absurdly long limb than a standard weapon.

The sudden attack didn’t go unnoticed. The Rilks, abruptly split between two fronts, were forced to choose on the spot which way they were going to go. The simple drones had no capacity for decision-making on their own and were immediately thrown into a frenzied panic, some going one way some going another, trampling over one another to get at possible prey. Teyva’s tentacle-like chain whipped out, again and again, striking the enormous insects, wrapping them, throwing them, and even killing them on contact. She kept her targets varied, building up instances of [Chilling Weakness] so she could have a steady stream of healing in case things got closer.

Nearby, Azrael had gone straight into the fray, throwing her returning knife at the furthest foes she could spot before focusing on closeby enemies. She stabbed and dove, not bothering to swing or slash against creatures with tough defenses.

“Rip, terrible wind, lash and fly my friend!” She shouted and a blade of wind crashed into one of the Rilk’s abdomens, ripping them apart in bloody fashion. One managed to get close enough to raise its claws at her only for an arrow to pierce right through its head and drop it to the ground. Azrael didn’t even look back, wholly focused on slaughtering as many of the wicked things as she could.

Teyva pulled her attention back to the fight, no time to be impressed. She checked her stats and found that with Nephral on board she really didn’t need to worry about the mana spent extending and retracting her razorchain. It was the supplemental [Chill Touch] and follow-up spells that were going to burn into her reserves. She tapered back on casting additional spells and focused on killing the things with brute force alone. Occasionally she’d watch one simply fall dead on the ground as a swarm of glittering gold rose out of it to land on the next, crawling beneath the shell and begin all over again.

A loud crash signaled The Marble’s entry into the fray. The great big mimic throwing his whole body at a pair of the monstrosities, eager to slaughter as many as it could. When it stood back up it had at least three more clinging to its body; their mandibles clacking uselessly against the hard marble. It opened its twisted mouth and the long, tongue-like flagella whipped out to grasp one of them, pulling it inside and crushing it between its mutated jaws. As another died The Marble would throw itself one way or another, smashing more that tried to climb on it while it feasted on fresh kills.

It was the angry chattering shriek from the center of the swarm that signalled the next phase of the fight. From beneath the tall grass a larger rilk rose up; its body covered in armor and its limbs far thicker than its kin. It’s carapace glittered with what looked like some sort of shiny stone as it pointed in the direction of Teyva’s group. The caravaneers had been largely untouched, the confusion saving them from a direct confrontation long enough for them to circle their wagons and mount a defense with crossbows. A shout went out as the Rilks turned toward Teyva and the others.

“Looks like we’re the bigger problem!” Elat laughed, firing off another shot.

“Looks like it!” Teyva shouted back, “Darlings! Go say hello to our new friend!”

Teyva used her journal as the mockery swarm abandoned its latest prize in favor of the newcomer.

[Rilk Soldier] - Hostile - Level 5

HP: 100% MP: 100% SP: 100%

“Not so bad!” Teyva said, whipping her arm out and catching another rilk around its carapace. She pulled it down to the ground and held out her hand to fire off a [Pale Bolt] into its body. The creature withered, its body blackened by the flash of necrotic magic and died.

“Just a lot of them! How are you holding up?” Elat asked.

“I’m more worried about Azrael!” Teyva said, glancing at Azrael’s stats. The Warden had been the only member of their group to take damage so far and it was beginning to show. Without a way to heal Azrael directly they could only rely on the woman’s speed and defensive abilities to get through a fight of attrition like this. Azrael’s health had already dropped to just below sixty percent and her stamina was even lower. She frowned when Azrael didn’t back away even as her health ticked down to fifty percent and she sent a message over the private chat.

Watch your health, you’re hurting over there! Fall back and we’ll regroup! She called.

But-

No buts! Get back here! Teyva ordered.

There was a pause and finally Teyva raised her voice outside of the chat; “Azrael!”

The warden, steadily growing overwhelmed by the number of bugs took a few steps back to disengage before hurrying over to Teyva and Elat. Teyva switched to her sword arm and swapped out with Azrael as the insects hurried in pursuit. She wasn’t as tough as Azrael by any means, but she needed to give her friend a moment to catch her breath. Either way, the main threat of the fight was being dealt with. Nearby the Mockery swarm had landed on the Rilk Soldier and the creature’s limbs were useless when it came to prying the tiny things off of its body. Their tiny acidic fangs began to dig into its flesh beneath its armor, tearing it apart from the inside while The Marble smashed any of the smaller creatures that had come to try to elicit some manner of aid.

Teyva kicked one of the approaching Rilks in the face, swinging her sword arm down and catching a glancing blow against its hard shell. Remembering what Azrael had been doing to fight them she pulled her arm back and stabbed it through the cranium, sending a flash of [Chill Touch] through its body just to make sure the job was done. As another came in and swiped at her she took a few harried steps backward only for darts of rippling wind to fly past her and catch the creature in the chest. It didn’t kill it but it slowed it down enough for Teyva to move back in and finish the job.

The agonized shriek of the Rilk Soldier’s death throes signaled the end after that. The remaining Rilks turned back to see their leader collapse under its shell as the mockeries finished their work. With no one to lead them and the threat of death over their heads, survival instinct finally kicked in and the remaining rilks fled to the dusty patch and beyond to wherever they’d come from.

Teyva threw up her arms in a whoop and Azrael let out her own cheer of victory. Nearby, there were shouts back and forth among the caravaneers. Teyva shifted her arm back to normal and let out a sigh of relief. She called back her mockeries and The Marble, her darlings hurrying to her side. Her stamina was still sitting at thirty percent but she’d managed to pull her weight this time. Elat clapped her on the shoulder; “Good work with that chain of yours.”

“Thanks,” Teyva said, grinning in his direction before glancing back at Azrael. The Azar looked bloodied but cheerful, sheathing her weapon and walking over to clasp hands with Teyva. The two beamed at one another as footsteps came close. They looked up in time to see three men approach with crossbows raised and aimed directly at her.

“Don’t move!” One of them shouted.

Teyva sighed; running a hand over her face; “Here we go.”