Deals with Devils on the Eve of Battle

An ancient poem from the Druid scrolls of High Oak

Teuvdar studied the face of the young bard carefully. The newest member of their adventuring party, Logan was fresh-faced and excitable. And, like any Bard worthy of their stripes, he loved to tell exciting tales. But this time there was no exaggeration in his words, the fear was real and quite palpable. Even as Logan recounts recent events to the party, Dwarf Cleric Draven and stoic half-orc barbarian, Thokk, nod in agreement with his every word. The Bard may be prone to embellishment, but these other two were not.

Earlier that day, the party had split in two, each tasked with securing allies in the coming fight against the Sahaugin at their island temple. During their recent meeting with the village shaman witch, she suggested that two inhabitants from the island may be willing to help. Logan, Draven and Thokk went into the deep jungle in search of a race of insectoid creatures, while Teuvdar, Shadowfoot and Torrig would seek out the Dwarves of Torrig's home clan.

The Dwarf expedition was successful, but the request came at a high price. His clan would willingly assist them, but Torrig must never return to claim his rightful place as leader of the people. Without hesitation, Torrig agreed to the demand, perhaps because he sensed that without the help of the Dwarves, there was no hope for their mission to succeed. In renouncing his throne, Torrig had made a huge personal sacrifice.

Meanwhile, the second party found the insects, or rather it would be more accurate to say the bugs had found them. Before they knew what had happened, they found themselves surrounded by 6-foot spear-carrying mantid warriors. After considerable confusion and a struggle on the language front, the three were then escorted to the lair of the bugmen for a meeting with their leader.

Somehow, Logan had convinced them to give them an audience. No fools, the creatures demanded that the Bard go before the leader alone, and Thokk and Draven were held back. In what was both a feat of bravery and insanity, Logan climbed to the top of the treehouse and faced the hive leader. He spent the next ten minutes bartering for his life in a conversation that mainly concerned why the insects should not just eat them and be done with it. Much of Logan's gear and gold were handed over to the hive leader in exchange for not becoming their dinner. In the end, a deal was struck. The bugs would help, but it they demanded certain favours in return. Their own island to rule, the meat of the Sahaugin, and half of the treasure collected from the war. A steep price which seemed like a bargain at that moment--anything to get away without being skinned alive. Reluctantly, the hivelord then allowed the three to leave, and declared his warriors would await them on the beachhead on the day of battle.

Hiveleader of the Thri-Kreen

As their friends describe these creatures, Torrig nods in recognition, for his people had a name for them: Thri-Kreen. The revelation hits Teuvdar like a load of bricks. Thri-Kreen...of course! The hunter-harvesters. They were little more than a legend to his people, a boogeyman thing to frighten children. Teuvdar recalls a poem from his childhood, a tale that his brother Tenveren often tormented him with. Legends said in ages past these creatures came out of the deep desert, invading the forests and hills of the Midlands before being driven back. The ancient stories claimed that any and all humanoids were considered a source of food by the Thri-Kreen, and that Sylvan flesh was prized above all. They were alien to most humanoid sensibilities. Tenacious, compelled to hunt and feed with no evidence of compassion or remorse. A formidable ally, if they could be controlled, but a terrifying enemy to those who showed any sign of weakness. And their party had made a deal with them.

A pit formed in Teuvdar's gut, for he felt terrible at allowing his friends to approach the bugs alone without considering the dangers. They had made a tactical mistake that could have ended very badly, and may yet come back to haunt them. Thank the Gods they had not sent Shadowfoot with his tasty Elven flesh to meet with these creatures! (Teuvdar's skin crawls as he remembers his own Elven ancestry, and makes a mental note to wear a hood around the Thri-Kreen!) Had the party come all together as one, and shown strength, the Thri-Kreen may have perceived them differently. Now, Teuvdar was convinced they would be dealing with them from the perspective of inferiority, a deadly vantage point for contending with this race of beings.

They had been making many mistakes as of late, ones they could not afford. As the hour of battle drew close, they found themselves surrounded on all sides by allies that ranged from apathetic, to unwilling, to potentially hostile.

And then there were the true enemies, the Sahaugin, against whose vile cruelty all of the other's actions would pale in comparison...