The problem with unknown minions, you muse as you stare once more at the wooden door that leads into your larder caves, is that I don't know anything about them.

Recursive logic perhaps, but true never the less. The 'Troglodytes' do not appear to have made their home amongst the dark stone and twisting hedges of the second floor. The demons under your command have seen nothing, heard nothing. Just as Mercy has seen nothing untoward in the grove, nor the kobolds in the twisting passages beneath their artificial valley. The goblins had just shrugged, but at least they had some information for you. Dave-who-looks-like-Dave said he wasn't surprised that their 'dank cousins' had shown up but admitted that was based more on a story he heard as a child than anything concrete.

And, no matter how many times you check out the rest of the lair... there's nowhere quite so dank as the larder caves. You even built cabins, ready for the taking.

You swallow the buzzing in your ears and straighten your spine. It's ridiculous for a boss monster to be scared of part of his domain. The insects have been helpful during raids, and while they fight back when hunted by your goblins... you cannot begrudge them that.

The key grinds in the lock, the door creaking when you push it open, as though it were much older and grimier than it has any right to be, the light from the entrance hall slicing into the dark beyond. Something on the edge of the light, just out of sight and visible only as the reflection on an oily carapace skitters out of view, and you shudder. Mercy, next to you, seems to share your discomfort as she mutters something too quiet to hear, then turns to you.

“Look... Red. I haven't been pushing because I know the lair is kinda delicate right now and your growth will only ever accelerate but-” she pauses, eyeing the darkness. “Once we're out of here, I'd like to formally put the issue of you championing me into the queue. I'd forgotten how... powerless bugs make me feel.”

You nod.

Feathers, on the other side of you, snorts. With a crackling hiss she lights a torch and holds it up, the warm light pushing back the edges of the blackness that, to your eyes, seems almost liquid.

“Both of you stupid. Is just bugs.”

You share a look with the half demon at your shoulder. The smell of rot lies thick on the air for a moment.

“You're right, Feathers. Let's go.”

You banish the scent from your lungs and turn back to the open door. The warmth of the torch helps keep your mind on the here and now as you enter the winding tunnels. Mercy is forced to stoop – the reason she could not armour herself in her war-form for this expedition. And you know the tunnels only get narrower.

The stone seems oddly slick under your feet as you pad into the caves, companions behind you. The last light of the evening is just shining through the trap holes you burrowed through the ceiling, caught and refracted by the thick net of webbing that stretches wall to wall. It's just enough to prevent you from walking into stalagmites as you pick across the floor. A floor now littered in... things.

Dry sheets of chitin lie in the corners, covered in dust and old webbing. Small stones clatter and roll as they are dislodged by your footsteps. Every couple of steps, something under your feet cracks like a dry twig. The first time you looked down to see a rat skeleton gazing at you with its empty sockets, you resolved not to investigate any more of those noises, keeping your gaze resolutely level. Looking up was no better, because then you saw the cocoons. It wasn't often that things fell into the larder caves from above. Even rarer was such bounty allowed to reach the floor.

Somewhere up there was a spider the size of a horse, that puppeted a necromancer to save your life and drinks wolves like you eat stew. Steve's progenitor, if you were to guess.

Eyes forward. Do not react to the crawling sensation of a dozen creatures using their Perception to take your measure. Do not react to the soft, moist noises coming from some of the cocoons. Do not react to the human skeleton splayed out in the middle of the room, a single shaft of sunset light illuminating yellow bones. Do not react when its skull turns to glare at you-

NOPE.

NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE

You run, goblin and dryad hot on your heels, until you reach the narrow passage to the next cave. Only then, your sides covered by stone and your back held by a goblin barbarian you trust with your life, do you turn back to look at the skeleton as it slowly lifts into the air.

From here, looking out at the light, you can just make out the near invisible string linking to the bones, dragging it up towards a nearly invisible form crouched against the ceiling, white hairs blending in with the webs supporting it.

Black eyes glitter with what you swear is amusement.

Your own eyes narrow.

Unity Gained!

Oh you can fuck ALL the way off, you growl at the notification, then turn tail and follow the retreating torch.

The next room has no holes to let the last of the day's light in, after all.