Chosen - Proceed to the Inner Nest
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Sal's breath came slow and steady, his gaze locked on the hive's surface.
"That was nice," you mused. "Ready for more?"
He nodded, rolling his shoulders as he resumed his march forward.
The nest loomed ahead, a structure of hardened sand and resin fused together into a jagged, uneven wall. The few human-sized openings scattered along its surface—likely made to drag in larger prey—remained ignored. Sal didn't trust them. They weren't his. Instead, he placed a palm flat against the hive's surface and willed it to open.
The wall answered.
The sandstone softened, parting under his touch, shifting at his command. A narrow tunnel formed, just wide enough to allow him passage. Better to walk through a path he carved himself than rely on the architecture of oversized insects.
He stepped forward, swallowed by the dark.
He didn't get far.
The walls around him exploded.
Buzzard wasps, enraged by his intrusion, burst through the tunnel like a living flood. Chitinous bodies smashed through hardened sand, wings thrumming with fury as they lunged from every direction. Some had emerged outside the nest, spotted his tunnel, and funneled in from behind.
A pincer maneuver.
Sal's eyes flickered with understanding just as the first wasp struck.
"Tch." He cursed under his breath but remained calm. He should have thought of this.
You watched, impassive.
Sal shifted his stance, and the sand around him surged. It clung to his limbs, his torso, hardening into a crude armor. It wasn't rock, but it would do.
Or at least, it should have.
Sal Roll - 12
Wasps Roll - 91
The wasps were faster.
You distinctly felt the sharp, piercing jabs as four separate stingers found their mark. One slid past his ribs, another grazed his thigh, a third bit into his shoulder, the last caught his side just as he twisted away. The sting was brief—pinpricks of fire lancing through his body before fading into something colder, heavier.
Paralysis.
Hp-36->32, slightly poisoned (-5 to all rolls)
It wasn't immediate. Just a creeping weight, his muscles resisting movement ever so slightly.
Sal cursed louder, adjusting his footing as more wasps funneled in, each one shoving against the next in their frenzy to tear him apart.
Above. Below. Front. Back.
The hive was swallowing him whole.
Sal's foot came down hard, a command laced in the movement.
The sand should have answered.
Instead, his foot passed straight through.
Luck roll - 16
For a fraction of a second, confusion flickered across his face. Then gravity took hold.
Unlucky.
The floor beneath him wasn't solid at all—just a thin crust of compacted sand hiding a vast, empty chamber below. The weight of his stomp had shattered it like brittle glass.
Sal fell.
Darkness swallowed him.
He barely had time to process before the air erupted with movement. A deafening hum filled the chamber, accompanied by the sharp clacking of mandibles. More than three dozen buzzard wasps, disturbed by his sudden intrusion, shot toward him from all directions, their sleek bodies silhouetted in the dim glow of their resin-coated hive walls.
He had no bearings, no light. Just a flurry of wings and snapping beaks closing in.
Sal screamed—not in fear, but pure, unfiltered rage.
The sand armor clinging to him thickened, shifting in desperate response to his will. It covered his limbs, his torso, shielding him as the swarm struck.
Sal roll - 28(-5 slight paralysis)-> 23
Wasps Roll - 29(ADVANTAGE - Reroll)->79
It wasn't enough.
Beaks pierced through the sandy defense, chitin grinding against grains before breaking through to flesh. Stingers found purchase, sinking deep.
One in the calf.
One in his lower back.
One in the arm.
Two more in his side.
Each one a fresh spike of pain. Each one delivering another dose of venom.
The creeping weight in his limbs deepened.
Hp-32-> 27 (slightly poisoned -> moderately poisoned: -10 to all rolls)
Alright. Enough playing around.
Sal hit the bottom hard, landing atop shifting sand and something softer—the unmistakable crunch of an unlucky wasp beneath him.
He didn't hesitate.
Before the swarm could close in again, he slammed his palm into the ground.
The sand answered this time.
With a violent tremor, the chamber walls collapsed inward. The ceiling caved, shifting dunes pouring down like a suffocating avalanche. Dozens of buzzard wasps screeched as the desert itself swallowed them whole.
Green ichor mixed with the cascading sand.
Qi - 44 -> 25
Sal remained still for a moment, breathing heavily, his body damn-near-buried. The air was almost non-existent and thick with dust, but at least the hum of wings was reduced to a few dying flickers.
He exhaled through gritted teeth, and began digging himself out.
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A.N : what do you do?
Remaining Buzzard Wasps in the Inner nest - 38/60
If you choose to retreat now, you will gain 2 trait points and +10 trust with your host, (effectively another tp, for a total of 3)