The Great Home, the beginning for many things, the ending for even more. After the war had consumed the humans who had ruled earth, many things changed, creatures mutated, and new organisms were born. This process had only been sped up by the massive amounts of radiation that drifted across the planet. The Great Home was no different, now being filled with multiple factions of intelligent creatures, though one thing is different from the world before, these intelligent creatures are tiny, their wars on a scale that would leave sqaure feet in ruins rather than miles. So the factions struggle to take control of the house, their movements either filled with savage combat, or efforts of diplomacy. Either way it does not seem like peace will ever rule until one of these groups takes control.

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The foundations for the Empire were being built once more, termites moved across the kitchen counter carrying pieces of wood, paper, and plastic to be built into structures, even more were already tearing holes into cabinets and walls to create a tunnel system through the entire structure in which they could further build compartments for their citizens, and soldiers. Hornets moved back and forth, armed with tooth pick spears, glass swords, and even some metal ones, all the while holding shields made from sunflower seed shells in the opposite hand. They watched over the workers, and slaves making sure nothing bad came of them as they worked. Meanwhile some small skirmishes still took place as there was a small group of Hootins who had holed themselves up in a old fallen over cereal box, they would be fully dealt with soon enough though.

Several slaves were working on the catches they had made, several dead feral mice lay on their sides their torsos cut open as they were being cleaned for consumption by the members of the empire. Yassara stepped to a group of soldiers that stood waiting, staring across to the Island across from their counter where a nice large sink was sitting. "That will be our next step soldiers. I want scouts flying over, learning as much as they can about that place." Three of the wasps took to the air immediately, and began to take quick short flights over the Island zooming in lower, and lower till finally they landed, the three wasps beginning to scout out the area, their legs moving them rather quickly as they moved into the bowl of the sink. Yassara turned away staring at where the hornets were now rushing into the box, the sound of fighting growing louder as they clashed with the Hootins inside. "Seems we're finally getting somewhere."

Buzzing sounded loudly as thousands of wings suddenly came to pass over the counter, the Empress, and the rest of her Empire had arrived, the bees arriving first, landing easily on the counter followed by more and more wasps, and finally the Empress herself. "Commander Yassara it seems all is going well" Xeta proclaimed with a good bit of cheer in her voice as she gestured to the Hootins who had now been captured, and were kneeling near the edge of the counter. "Dispose of them. We need no one who could possibly start another revolt." The seven Hootins went wide eyed as wasp warriors approached them and began stabbing them with spears, the sharp wooden sticks easily piercing the flesh of the micro humans. They in their injured states were then kicked off the counter falling for what seemed like forever before hitting the tile floor with tiny cracks, and splats. "Good. Now." Xeta turned and looked before pointing at a cabinet. "My throne room will be the top shelf in there. Also place Queen Ellis there, I do not want her far from me." Xeta turned from Yassara as the Commander placed a clenched hand over her thorax and bowed.

"Of course my Empress." Yassara watched as her Empress disappeared into the hole that had been made in the bottom shelf. "Gather all remaining prisoners! If any of them put up any kind of fight you kill them! All those who wish to serve will be allowed." She moved away, standing by herself as she stared at the stove top tilting her head slightly to try and figure out what it was. "I need to get our top minds on this. Figure out how this device works." She looked over the the rest of the house that she could see, though it was all so far away, the sun was rising through the shatter glass door leading to the deck. "This, this is how a Empire begins, and my Empress rules this land."

To say that the arrival of new people on the far side of the kitchen of the Great House was unsettling to the Nest City was an understatement; much of the higher ups where already shaken and panic was starting to spread amongst the populace. The Lord Commander of the Army had already stayed up since the first buzzing of these winged people came in, thinking that perhaps they were just another marauding band of raiders or something. The fact that these "raiders" had come in, slaughtered the Hootman tribes and was now quickly claiming the countertop as their own was no doubt something that Lord Commander Skritz could not say he expected.

The great walls of Eternia, normally fairly quite at this point of time as the night guard swapped places and the soldiers made an orderly (if not tired) shuffle down to the Nest City proper, was now full of life. Every one of the numerous number of catapults and ballistas had been manned, archers and crossbowmen filled the towers, bunkers and wall defenses as some ratfolk warriors stood in wait in reserve, standing in disciplined lines with metal arms and armor.

"Get me more men from down below, tell the king that I want the Fire Lances up here as well with more supplies and ammunition. Once the fight starts it'll be hell to try and ferry reinforcements and goods up here. Also tell the King that I recommend the last of the scavengers to either go in or wrap up their runs into the southern tunnels under heavy guards. I trust that my underlings have the tunnels well defended." Skritz watched as the mousefolk runner bolted his furry little hide into the depths as more soldiers disembarked from lifts carrying woven baskets of arrows and stones to fire.

"Get those stones to tier 4, section B! Archers on the western towers need more arrows! Come on people, get off your lazy hides and hope to it!" Skritz barked as the trudged down the ramparts, parting crowds as he went. As much as he hoped he was wrong, the Lord Commander couldn't help but feel like something was brewing over there. Not too long ago he saw a line of Hootmans getting thrown over the edge, landing in sickening, chunky red paste and now he feared that it would be the mice and rats who'd be next.

Making his way into one of the many platforms that jutted out of the side of the kitchen island, Skrtizs made his way into one of the myriad supply-and-command posts. Such SC posts would hold local commanders and officers to managed the section of defenses as well as a supply dump of weapons, armors, and medicine. Some of them even had lifts and stairs into the Nest City proper which could easily be destroyed in the case the post was lost. They would also communication tubes that would lead straight to the "Nest Network", a communications hub which linked much of the city together. Officers would scribble down scouting reports or reinforcement requests and stick it into a small metal container, lubricate it a little, and send it down the tube and hope that the Network would get the message.

Skritz conversed with the officers inside as they dashed about, pointing at hand drawn maps and commandering their subordinates to lube up more message tubes. The Lord Commander himself would have to peel away from the post as a group of micefolk engineers wanted to know where they were stationed at.

Pray to the Gods this goes well. Skritz thought to himself, trying to calm his nerves, Lest we have to fire and worse things to come.

Tresais Al'Tran stood silent and stoic as he looked over UAR lands from Kuran, a massive military stronghold and storage facility atop the bed. Its wooden/plastic walls surrounding the very edge of the bed, the pillows used as additional defenses, with platforms branching off the edges. Towers lined its four corners, armed ballista's on top of each. Battery catapults lined the walls, ready to be fired, a total of 20 lined each side. Almost 15,000 soldiers and Altir were stationed in this fort alone, ready to be mobilized.

Tresais Al'Tran stood upon the northern most tower, facing the Great Gateway, which was the door that hallway. Word had gotten out that a new Empire was being built, one of flying insects, more than capable enough to skirmish with the rodents of Eternia. It was concerning, no doubt, and was to be seen as a potential threat to "them".

The Third in command gazed upon UAR, thinking about its people, they all wanted what was best for the whole, would ending the threat of this new Empire be best for the whole? "They" were to decide soon, but as of now, they had others things to do. Tresais Al'Tran could feel the thousands of people who hustled and bustled in the great city of Alma'Ton. The military tribes who dotted the landscape, 80 self reliant platoons, 100 men strong sent all around Q10, patrolling uninhabited sections. The inhabitants of San'in, the hidden city within the White Jungle. The West Light fort on the dresser facing Q9, which housed soldier and catapults along the edge. Burrowing on the inside to use it as a communications hub and barrack. East Light fort was identical. He gazed at Huren, a smaller fort similar to Kuren, situated on the couch cushion, and Lu'rin city, which hung in the confines of the couch. Buren was situated in and on the TV stand, catapults along the edge, and the city of Ren'in inside the TV itself.

A lone Aleani Soldier made his way to Al'Tran, greeting him in the the traditional Aleani way. The soldier first, stepped to the side with his right foot, widening his stance, and at the same time brought two fists together, knuckles touching, arms bent at chest-level. Second, he opened the fists, palm out, and touched the tips of the thumbs and index fingers to each other so that the empty space between the two hands formed a triangle. Third, he closed the two palms together, thumbs still pointing away from the other fingers at a right angle, and then drew the “praying” hands closer so that only the thumbs touched the middle of the chest. At the same time he bent his head down so that the tips of the fingers touch the forehead, while bending the knees into a semi-bow. Fourth, he separated the hands, lifting them outward into a sweeping arc, and returns them palms down at his sides, at the same time as he straightened and brought the right leg back in, feet together.

Al'Tran acknowledged the soldier, his back still turned to him.

"Air Corps Scouts have returned, the situation remains the same in Q1 and 2 remains the same. It seems that the rodents are fighting back."

"Keep us informed, we have little business interfering with that mess. We also need to speak Cerix Tribes, see they will allow us easy passage through thier lands for trade, if not we will act. Q11 also wishes for an alliance, send word for an summit to be made."

The soldier simply nodded and went off to do what was to be done, leaving Al'Tran to contemplate to betterment of UAR, for his brothers.

They had made it.

What had seemed like an endless journey across an unimaginably vast desert of sand and stones had finally ended. They had lost friends and family along the way, but finally they had escaped the horrors that plagued their kind since the dawn of memory.

They had made it.

Mother Flotta leaned against her driftwood cane, her large eyes heavily lidded, giving her a perpetually tired look. She held a piece of dried seaweed in her small webbed hand, glancing over the hastily marked figures in silence. All around her the Migrants were establishing themselves within the new domain that had found. The land was strange, a far cry from the sandy desert they had crossed, and even farther still from the nightmare world of water that had been the birthing place of their kind. She more than any other bore the scars from their old home.

No. Home is not the world you call such a place. A home gives you warmth, shelter, protection and hope. They had lived in constant fear and desolation. It was a prison. The icy, constant churning of the water that surrounded them, pushing and pulling against their kind at all hours of the day. Food had been scarce, and the foraging parties had to venture farther and farther every day in order to gather enough supplies to survive. Most had never returned. Death was so common that they had ceased in burial, letting the currents take the lifeless bodies into the dark abyss.

If it had only been that, perhaps they never would have left. Life was hard, but that hard life made them strong. But no, their gods would not simply allow them to whittle out a scant existence. They had to ensure that their power was felt in full. Flotta knew from reading old texts that had floated to the bottom that there were beings of power that only demanded love and devotion, and returned that love in kind to their worshippers. These beings operated away from the world, their faithful never looking upon their face. Flotta, had looked into the face of her gods. She had stared into the terrible eyes and seen the gaping maws so large that they could swallow the world whole. She had watched their gods take sacrifices screaming into the black void of oblivion. They were not there to be worshipped. They were there to sow terror and anguish. Flotta grimaced at the memories, and slowly shook her scaly head.

No more. They had made it. No more would her people suffer the penalty of being born in such a place. It had taken some convincing, and many long and arduous hours of preparation, but they had made it. The fear of the unknown was even greater than that of their world, but eventually General Gnash, Foreman Shorr, and herself had inspired the people to take on the dangerous trek out of the water, and into the unknown world above.

The old fish looked up from her notes, squinting in the brightening light of this new world. Everything was so bright, and her eyesight was not as it used to be. She could make out the shapes of the Brachycea moving about with construction materials and tools. Squads of Carlachii patrolled out, scouting the new territory mounted upon their swift Sphyarra, making sure a new area was safe for the Ithscies to begin exploring and scavenging for supplies.

The area was empty, or at least it was now. Flotta had not been there herself when the scouts of the Carlachii had emerged from the giant ceramic bowl structure that dominated one area of the world. However, she had met with General Gnash after the reports of safety had been received with cheers and tears of relief. She knew that there had been previous occupants.

“You look troubled Mother,” came a gravely, rough voice behind her. Flotta turned, looking over her shoulder to see General Gnash approaching, his body towering over her own. He looked as warlike and brutal as ever, their shared past turning him into a creature of action and little remorse. Though they were nowhere even closely related, not even the same species, he always called her by the nickname bestowed upon her.

“Not troubled General, just very hard to see. My old eyes are still not used to the brightness of this world,” she said chuckling. Gnash stayed silent, standing next to her as they both took stock of their new surroundings. “Tell me Gnash, what happened when your men arrived?” she looked up at him.

“We finally saw light at the end of the tunnel system, following it until we breached the surface of the water inside of that,” he said, jerking his head to indicate the hard, white monolith. “Surface was incredibly difficult to climb, as you all found out when we led you through the same route, but after a few grapnels we were able to scale it with some difficulty. I don’t know what I expected when we reached the ledge, but this,” he gestured with his clawed hand, signaling all around them, “wasn’t it.”

“As I said before, we weren’t alone. There was a small group here, strange creatures. Pink and soft looking, with odd patches of fur on their head. When we rappelled to the bottom they noticed us, started screaming, some running from their homes while a few grabbed weapons and came at us,” Gnash paused, not sure how much detail Flotta wanted. She was not one to condone violence. His glance toward her face showed little reaction; she already knew the end of this story. “We took care of it.” He finished with a rough matter of fact tone. “What of the survivors?” Flotta asked, her voice heavy and soft and Gnash almost didn’t hear the question.

“There were none. After the few who came for us fell we chased down the runners. I couldn’t risk them returning with more to attack us when the rest arrived. I will not allow anything to threaten the safety of our people.”

Flotta sighed, looking down at the hard, cold floor beneath her feet. She didn’t like the idea of greeting any previous habitants with brutality, but Gnash did say they had attacked first. His men were only defending themselves, and preventing any survivors from spreading word of their arrival had been the right call. It sickened her to imagine the Carlachii at their work, but their existence was vital to the survival of the whole. She was just grateful that Gnash had gotten rid of the bodies.

Already structures were being set up, though these were very temporary. If they meant to make this place a home, they would have to establish a more permanent hold. The Brachycea were already constructing a scaffold around the rim of the white monolith, using wood, fishing line, and items they had brought and scavenged from the desert to enable a faster method of transportation. That, and Shorr was very adamant on utilizing the portal settled into one of the edges of the world. Gnashes scouts had made the daring climb sometime earlier, and reported that the portal looked out onto the great desert, and you could see the entire breadth of land they had crossed. Shorr immediately began making plans to establish a method of bringing up the crabs and lobsters that waited on the desert floor below, since they had been too large to fit inside the tunnel network that eventually led them here. He had already constructed the scaffold, and had begun work on a crane-like device that he hoped would be able to haul up the rest of their group. The project of course had taken all of the driftwood and hard materials they had brought with them, hence the small tents being erected.

A group of mounted Carlachii approached, hefting shields made of sea shells and spears of wood and tipped in bone and teeth. “General, the immediate area is clear, requesting permission to extend our patrols out past the Gateway.” Gnash nodded. “Be quiet, and be as stealthy as possible. We need to know what else is out there but we can’t allow our presence to become known just yet. A small team, just past the Gateway. If you see anything move you report back here. Until we can establish ourselves more securely secrecy is our greatest weapon.” The Carlachii Warrior nodded, turning his mount around and digging his heels into its scaly flanks, the fish-like creature taking off at a graceful lope towards the only other gap in the gigantic barriers of this world.

Flotta shivered, pulling the cloth of her robes tighter around her body. There was no wind here, but her old bones still felt chilled.

There is more to this world than we may know. I just hope our nightmare is over.

Soldiers and slaves alike moved between the giant barrels that made the underground colony, a centipede hauling piles of twigs and splinters of wood bringing them to the tops of the barrels to make fortifications and repairs. Several Slaver parties return with a Hercules beetle loaded with eggs and pupa, stolen from a near by colony. Hundreds of new slaves for sacrifice or labor, continuing the cycle of life of the colony. Several scouts return with news of new arrivals and reports from other areas of the house, most scouts where killed or captured in their travels. Two small tribes of Hootins where being escorted into one of the hive barrels to be butchered for food along with a group of Kavos cattle. The Pale Queen gives birth to a new legion of slavers, and the Formica Sanguine work through another day.

The Pale Queen sits in the dark depth of the primary nest, deep within a wooden barrel filled with earth. Her myriad of children working ceaselessly to the greatness of the hive. Royal workers fussed over her ensuring that she was clean, and fed. Other workers carried the endless supply of eggs away from the queen to birthing chambers elsewhere in the colony. General Alara came into the royal chambers and gives a report, "Mother, We have new comers, scouts report a large group of hornets and wasps." The Queen replies, "Thank you General, and what of these lizard folk?" Ambassador Takah steps forward "They are a strong group of warriors, tribal. They would make poor slaves Mother." The Pale Queen ponders for a moment before replying, "Very well, Go to them and arrange a meeting this house has become dangerous, and we could use.." She pauses as though the word where sickening "Allies" with their orders the General and Ambassador leaves.

The Queen's thoughts turn towards the past, when she was young and was carefully exerting her control over the deck. The last of the Gods had died, and their corpses fed her and her children during the age of Ash when it fell like snow from the sky. Her sisters did not survive the age of Ash, for they where weak and stupid much like these other Queens who are good for nothing less than subjugation.

"So, friends and guild masters, what of the new beings that join this competition over a house of cards?"

Far secluded from the squabbles and arguments between other factions was the closet, known as Q9 by the beings that struggled for ultimate control over the House, was perhaps one of the oldest factions within the House. The South Arachnos Trade Guild, deal brokers and merchants within a system dominated by warrior tribes and other such, violent beings. Oddly enough they almost never went to war, nor waged it openly, often times content in their homes, spun of web and the most prestegious territory in the corners of the ceiling. Very few could ever reach them, without a spider's consent, and reasonably threaten them, but they did not wage war. They knew better, if the Spiders were to take up arms en masse and go to war, they would succeed in uniting the other disparate factions of the House against them, and be wiped out to the last. The Assassin Bug, and most successful of her kind, spoke first, apparently kind tones belying her status as the second most dangerous member of the Council.

"Broker, some of my own have watched from afar and brought us tidings. Hornets and Wasps, lethal flyers and deadly fighters. Should they prove violent to us, I would recommend cutting down spider silk exports to further reinforce the webbing that protects." The Broker, and de facto leader of the Guild, Guildmaster Xenth, nodded his arachnid head, eyes blinking calmly while the other three spoke amongst themselves. They were traders all, and cutting spider silk production for export would cut into profits. But being obliterated would do so, far worse, and the Wolf spider spoke up next, his tone far gruffer then any other. "We are in agreement, should the bold merchants that go first be slaughtered whole sale, we will prepare to defend ourselves." The other two seemed content to leave that be, so the rest of the meeting mostly covered their rising profits, the first merchants to be gifted trade rights to the newcomers, so on and so forth. Eventually the meeting was adjourned, and within a surprising time, the first caravans of trade spiders, and their guards, marched out.

The caravans of traders were known across all lands, often trading on the side to whomever was willing, and did not openly brandish arms like the soldiers did. But, tribes that had attempted to scale the walls and strike the spiders found lethal results, spiders literally coming from all directions, specialists in glass blades, six limbs wielding a dervish of razor sharp glass, honed to a fine point. That was key, their trade of glass weapons to violent tribes. The fine examples, not the best which was reserved for spider soldiers and their assassin bug allies, traded for anything of sufficient value. Something, Guildmaster Xenth hoped, would be readily apparent to these newcomers. Trade with the other tribes would continue, no official allies or enemies, each trade spider free to deal with whom they will, so long as loyalty remains ultimately to the Guild. Once the Council meeting was adjourned, Xenth sat alone in his chambers, overlooking the bustling trade webwork, literally, sprawling beneath him.

"Hornets and Wasps, hmm... War would cost much, even a webbed stinger is still deadly. I do hope they see reason in trade, as all others have."

The spider trade cities, secluded above the reach of most any others, continued like nothing was different and, indeed, it really was not. Trade caravans left and returned, with goods to trade with, as visitors, merchants, and envoys of other nations made their approaches and departures, guided by a sophisticated band of spiders gifted with unusually strong web, capable of lifting up and returning the bustling traffic to and from the webworks. Defenses were not apparent, though present, and to most outsiders it was indeed a loose coalition of traders instead of a unified nation, which was precisely what one would prefer to hope to be seen as. It made a unified front forming that much more surprising.

Caravix sat in his throne around the pit, the fire in its center surrounded by the ritual dancers dressed in false feathers and painted in the guise of the bird he once killed. This had become a ritual amongst his tribe after he returned from his victory, dragging the great head of his greaatest foe behind him. The tribe aate well, and so began his unification of the tribes. Of course that was many seasons ago, and he felt that some of the tribes had begun to cahllenge his rule... oh well, he would soon bring them to heel again. As he watched the ritualistic dancing the sound of a hunting party returning could be heard as they pushed their way through the crowd, and interrupted the ceremony, causing Caravix to snarl as his son, covered in blood, burst into the pit with his fellow hunters, "Great Chief, we have... discovered something whilst hunting an-", Caravix silenced him, flying down to his eldest son snarling, "You have interrupted a ceremony Kerik, what could you have found of such interest to interrupt the holy celebration of my greatest victoory!?", Kerik shrank before his furious and great father, before gesturing for his warriors to come forward.

They carried four bodies, three were quite obviously roaches of the tribe but the fourth... it was something Caravix had never seen. It was yellow and black, tall and lithe, smaller than a roach but larger than most flies, it was a female no doubt. It had long wings and wore strange armor and its weapons were... almost artful as they too were dropped at the chiefs feet. The glass sword and wooden spear, with a strange shield. He examined them, before bending down to look at the dead creature. As he did this the tribe was silent, watching their chief examine this strange new creature. His head snapped up to look at his son again, "Karik, where did you encounter this? And how did it kill three of your hunters?"

Karik shook his head, "No, it alone did not. They traaveled in a group. They were encroaching on our hunting grounds so we drove them off. They killed three before leaving, but we killed this one. They flew like the flys do, and had stingers and, they all apeared to women fath-", Caravix raised a hand to silence his again before standing. "These new... warriors... they must be a new addition to the great home. We will... find them, observe them. I wish to learn about these new creatures. Perhaps they can be useful to the tribe. My son, Karik, my eldest,", he grabbed his son behind the neck, pulling his forehead to touch his own as he spoke, "You will be the one to find them. Take our greatest trackers, discover that groups home, and watch them. When you believe you know of their intention, return to me.", he let go of his son who nodded enthusiastically, "It will be done father, doubt me not.", he turned and flew to the top of the pit, calling for the tribes greatest trackers.

Caraavix looked down to the creature, then too the roaches around the pit, before picking up the wasp, ripping its head from its body, crushing the head in his mandibles as he devoured it. After this he ripped open the creatures thorax as the roaches began to chant around the pit, he placed his face in the hole and began devouring the meat and sucking the juice within loudly. The wet sounds of his meal being devoured began to be drowned out by the chanting before he finished, flipping the insect over and ripping off its abdomen. Where the abdomen had met her thorax Caravix dug in, using his large and powerful jaws to crush her exoskeleton and get at the juices within. He ate through her thorax eventually ripping it in half before moving to consume her limbs and the rest of her thorax.

After finishing her thorax he turned to the large abdomen but paused. She had a stinger, like the great Najka but infinitely smaller. He growled and took hold of it, delicately pulling the stinger out, followed by its poison sack. He ripped the sack and stinger out from the abdomen and tossed them to the ground, the tribe understanding that meant it was unsafe to consume. With that, he tore into the hole he had created, slowly ripping the abdomen in half to slurp at the long organs inside. Before long all that was left was the abdomen halves themselves, and he quickly crushed and decoured them.

Visceraa dripping from his maw, Caravix grabbed the body of one of his hunters and tossed it to the tribe who immediately fell upon the body, tearing into it and devouring their brother whole. Before long Caravix had tossed the others, and in an act of ritual cannibalism the tribe devoured them, ensuring the dead would serve the tribe even now.

Already structures were well under construction, the scouts returning back to the Empire's territory. They reported the quick raction time of those across the tile, that they were quickly muster defenses, and even large weapons of war such as ballistae, and catapults. Commander Yassara seemed impressed that such intelligent beings were their neighbors her hand clicking together while she stared at the fortifications across the way. "Centurion Mepia, inform the Empress. Tell her I would like to enter into diplomatic negotiations if she allows." The Centurion nodded taking to fly and maneuvering through the hole in the bottom of the cabinet. Yassara clicked her mandibles several times and turned to stare at the engineers as they worked at the the strange device, that was known as a strove. One stood on a coil in the middle of the stove shouting. "Turn the knob!" She says with a frown, one of the workers turns the knob, and a click ignites as gas flows up, flames swallow the Wasp standing in the middle coil and she screams. The worker quickly turns the knob back, but it's too late the wasp is nothing but charred remains.

At least we know what it does." Yassara says with a sigh walking towards the stove.

Several soldiers looked up from their post, a collective confusion arises as they see their new winged neighbors fiddling with the fire-lands.

"The hell...?" Lord Commander Skritz winced as he saw the new-comers turn on the stove, only to burn one of them alive. A hell of a way to die but the sheer stupidity of it in Skritz's mind made him sigh, "Well then... I guess they deserved that after kicking those poor hootins off the edge."

The lumpy red chunks still laid their on the floor in a pool of gore, they'd probably stink up the place unless someone would go down there and retreve the corpse. Normally the King would send a specialized team of coroners to get the bodies. The poorest people of the Nest City would probably get to them first though, hoping to seize any bits of valuables on them and hack off a bit of meat for their families. Meat is still meat, no matter where it comes from.

"Get me more archers up here," Skrtiz turned around and walked away from the ledge he was peering over, wondering what in the world those idiots where trying to do with the fire-lands, "Don't want them to pull anything fishy while they give us a bonfire display."

The wasps had finally gotten a grasp on the stove top and were now leaving it be at the moment, it would make good use for festivals, and if necessary enemy executions. Yassara watched as more and more of their neighbors prepared for combat, but just as she was considering setting up a stronger defensive force Mepia returned. "Commander, the Empress agrees that it would be best for there to be some kind of diplomatic meeting. You should meet with one of theirs, and then if things go well their leader can meet with her here."

Commander Yassara could only nod in response as she stared at them for a much longer time than necessary. "Gather three more centurions, and two legionaires. I will lead them over myself." When the soldiers she had requested arrived Yassara took to the air followed by the four wasps, they moved to hover in front of the fortifications a bit of the ways out. Their spears held upwards in a show of non aggression. "I am Commander Yassara of the Hymenoptera Empire! I wish to speak with someone of authority from your people. So that we may come to terms, and that there will be no more aggression between our two nations!"

"You're speaking to one." Skritz hid his growl under his best "official" voice, the ratfolk never really trusted outsider, at least not initially, he wasn't quite as amicable to them as the king was, "I am Lord Commander Skritz of Isle Eternia, otherwise known as the Nest City. What is it you wish to speak of?

"Now, now, Skritz, no need to be so nasty now do we?" the Lord Commander quickly turned around as did many others, Nest King Greyhide had arrived from some lift tucked away somewhere. He twisted his pink fingers around his most magificent whiskers as his glorious silvery fur shone dimly in the sunlight streaking down from the other side of the window, now occupied by the wasps.

"I am the Nest King Greyhide, the ruler of this mighty fortress-city you stand, or hover in this case, in front of." Greyhide's voice boomed as he approached the flying creatures, hands boldly behind his back.

"M-my lord!" Skritz was clearly flabbergasted, "Why are you even up here? We must get you back down to safety!"

"Nonesense my friend." the king waved a royal hand at the Lord Commander, "I was told by a runner that we have some new guests in this part of the Great House. Can a mouse not see such things for himself?"

The Lord Commandered mumbled something under his breath but backed off and let the king have his moment. Skritz's eyes didn't stray from the bees though, his hand still wrapped tightly around his sword and ready to order an immediate, unrelenting bombardment should the king be proven a fool.

"Heh heh, always a skittish one that rat is." Greyhide chuckled before clearing his throat and facing the winged envoys, "Now... may I make a most humble request to see your own leader? Tis only fair now that you've seen me that I am allowed to see your's great leader no?"

The envoy from the Empire floated for a moment, watching the back and forth between the King Mouse, and his commander. Yassara looking back at the others, knowing they were ready to die for her at a moment's notice so she could escape back to their side. "She would come King Greyhide, but she has begun settling in, and asking her to move could possibly be detrimental to her health at the moment. She will be indisposed for at least a week or more. I will however grant you and a personal guard of your choice and size to come to her chambers nad meet with her personally." She clicked her manidbles a few times hoping they would be accepting of these terms as she had little else to offer. "You would also be in the company of Queen Ellis, of the Bees. I'm sure all of this royalty gathered in one place would have much to talk about. You would be served combs of honey as well. It's quite fresh and delicious."

King Greyhide respectfully shook his head and rose a hand, "My apologizes, but I'm afraid I cannot go. As much as I'd love to, I'm sure that my Lord Commander would make every move he could to stop me from going by any means necissary."

Even though he could not see the ratfolk, the king had no doubt that he was once again swearing up a silent storm, going to vent at his retinue later once this had all finished. However, such act only proved Greyhide's theory prompting a smile to crack on his face, "However, would you mind delivering her a letter soon? I'll have it be placed on a long pole so you need not flutter close to our walls if that is to your fancy once I write it up of course."

Some mumbling went through the gathered Imperials as they heard the refusal to meet with their Empress, it was slightly insulting to their honor that they couldn't be trusted, but they also understood in a way. Yassara listened to the idea of a letter being passed by pole, and nodded. 'This offer is satisfactory. We await your word." They turned and shot back across to the counter. Yassara looked down surprised to see the hootin bodies were already gone, not even smears of blood left behind. She landed easily, and clicked her mandibles some more. "Continue fortifications.. Building everything. Await the letter, watch closely for it. If they display any signs of aggression I want them beaten back into their tunnels." Commander Yassara flew into the hole leading to the Empress' chambers disappearing.

HIgh Sheriff Kisriss tilted her head slightly watching all that was going on in concern. 'A letter hm. I do not trust these rodents. They seem a finnicky lot, too ready to begin firing arrows at us." She settled into a chair that had been made for her, and leaned forward onto a jagged sword made of glass.

Skritz opened his mouth in outrage over what the king had just done, but was quickly met with a hand in front of his face, "Patience friend, there is no need for us to kill everyone we come across."

Leaving an obviously fuming Lord Commander behind him, King Greyhide made his way to a lift and watched as mice above heavied a carefully weighted stone onto the platform to slow the king's descent, it would not be a good idea to send their lord plunging into the ground afterall.

With great haste, Greyhide made his way back to his quarters, calling for his servants. Soon the room was abuzz with servants carrying in the finest ink and paper and scholars who were trying to give input on writing style and diction. It wasn't as if Greyhide really needed to have a room full of egg heads, but he guessed it would be a decent way of bouncing ideas back and forth.



Handing the finished message in his signautre curly hand writing used only for important decrees and documents, Greyhide watched as one of his servants rushed it up to the top where it would be attached to the longest pole available. Should all go well, this could become quite the opportunity. If not... people will have good reason to call him "Greyhide the Fool" then.

The letter was received and almost immediately transported to the Empress with only Yassara giving it a cursory glance before handing it to Xeta. "My Empress, this is from the King Greyhide."

Empress Xeta took the paper, her eyes scanning along the words scrawled across it before nodding. She turned it over and began to write a reply.



She handed the letter to a passing worker bee. "Fly over the Rodent Fortress and drop this to them." She turned and looked to her daughter Princess Vel. "Prepare a guard for yourself and plan to enter into negotiations with the Rodents." Princess Val and the Bee both left at the same time, though both went in different directions once outside. Princess Val gathering up ten hornet Legionaires, and five Centurions. Surely they would accept an honor guard of that size. While the Bee flew over the fortress releasing the letter as she moved above it, and dropping it towards the soldiers below.

The message was quickly transfered to the paws of King Greyhide after literally being dropped on a more sparsely populated portion of wall. The King himself was no longer in his own quarters within the city, but in one of the SNC posts burrowed into the walls which he had commendeered for a closer writing space.

Making noises of deep thought, Greyhide showed it to one of his personal guards and nodded at one of the officers who was in his prescence. Surrying out of the enterance and up the stairs, the shot of tightly wound ballista bolt hitting the hard tile below rung out.

Greyhide ran a paw through his silver fur and adjusted the golden wedding band that served as his crown. Walking out of the post, a small parade of servants and honor guards followed their king as he ascended the stairs towards the the highest tower of the countertop keep. With his servants in clean robes and his Ironrat honor guard clad in their finest heavy armor, King Greyhide climbed up the last set of stairs and met face to face with the wasp princess in front of him.

"Greetings," the king began as his guards flanked both sides of him, "May I presume you are the daughter of the Empress of Hymenoptera?"

Princess Val turned and bowed to the king. "Yes that would be me. I am Princess Val. I am here to speak on behalf of my mother." Her honor guard stood quiet behind her, leaving her seemingly unprotected as they did not see sense in the King bringing harm to Val. Their manidbles clicked as they spoke to each other in a uncommon tongue that only the insects of Hymenoptera could understand. Princess Val extended a chitinous hand to the king so that he could take it, and kiss the top as would be customary for male royalty to do to female royalty. She gave off a sense of kindness, though there was a brutality deep down inside that could come out if necessary.

"My Mother wishes for us to work together in a most intimate way. She wishes for our... Nations to merge, to become stronger in a way. You are a King! A great one to have made such a great city for so long! We would not wish to see such a thing fall. We would rather see us work together. Create a beautiful society, that would spread throughout this home. Your building is magnificent, and we are capable of supplying so much raw materials."

The King bowed and kissed the princess's insectoid hands, brushing away his robes as he stood up once more, chuckling at the offer made by the wasp.

"As much as I wish for our nations to work together, I must confess I didn't expect it to be that close. I am afraid that my people are not one to bow their heads to someone not of their fur. You need not worry about Eternia falling, I can assure you that the walls on this side do not compare to our defenses on the other side of our island. Even if the outer walls are too fall, we still have inner defenses, and then the city and then-"

Princess Val held up a hand. "You misunderstand King Greyhide. We do not wish to rule you. Simply have you be at one with us. Your people would not have to bow to our Empress, though we would expect the respect given to royalty here, as we would to you as king. It would simply be a mutually beneficial relationship. We work together to great magnificent feats. We do not expect you to fight for us, but we would expect the both of us to defend our mutual relations together. Whether that would be us helping you defend your land, and vice versa. This relationship would also allow us open, and free trade! Open borders between our people! Do you not see the benefits this would bring? We would both be doubly as strong to our enemies, they would think ten times before daring to attack either of us. Everyone would prosper."

She moved closer to the King, and whispered in his ear. "My mother would only expect that you treat her as what she is. Empress, and she will treat you as what you are. The king of Eternia. The Hymenoptera Emprie is a great thing that will stretch throughout this Great Home. Come we already have one Monarch who shares with us her people. Surely it cannot be that bad for us to work together in such a way. It would be much better than war, or indifference."

"Hmm..." the king closed his eyes and nodded, "I see. I shall accept such terms for now. I shall have to draft up a more proper agreement later. I should caution you though, we rodentfolk are not aggressive people by nature but I am willing to support your endeavors as long as they are not needless acts of violence and bloodshed."

Val tilted her head slightly. "We would not ask you to join us in our campaigns abroad to bring this home into civilization. Simply aid us here on the homefront, as we will aid you." She stands up completely and strokes the Rodent's face. "Please.. Let us have something written up. I will stay here. While we do so."



The two races peered over their documents as they wrote, revised and annotated the draft of their treaty. The pulp-pressed paper had since long been used in such a manner so that no one would have to worry about making the document look pretty on the first go around, the final version would be written upon a piece of Rat Beast parchment.

More mice had trickled in from somewhere, all carrying records and logs to which the King Greyhide constantly referred to as he discussed the pact with the wasp princess. It also seemed that some more wasps and hornest flew in from somewhere but it could have easily just been the King not paying attention to his surroundings as he sunk his focus into his work. Both sides had been talking in hushed whispers and cryptic clicks for the entirty of the process but there was enough trust to hold the meeting together to work on the treaty.

Removing his wire spectacles, Greyhide looked over the draft and its countless notes and markings, "I believe this is a suitable arrangement, there's quite a lot of work that has gone into this it seems. How does the Hymenoptera Emprie think of this?" Princess Val looked over the paper with a nod, and began to read it aloud.

"I Princess Val of the Hymenoptera Empire, speaking on behalf of Empress Xeta of the Hymenoptera Empire do agree to the agreements written upon this treaty with the King of Eternia, may he live forever.

Nest King Greyhide the Thrid, on behalf of the Isle of Eternia, do agree to the terms and agreements written upon this treaty with Princess Val of the Hymenoptera Empire, speaking on behalf of Empress Xeta of the Hymenoptera Empire, may sucess and greatness be granted unto them.

That our two nations that forever hold a mutual defense against all foes who would dare raise arms against us. That we will assist in the mutual construction of defenses for our two nations. That we will assist in the construction of infrastructure linking our two powerful nations, so that our open borders will easily be accesible to both our peoples. That we will have open free trade between our nations for mutual benifit."
"

"The UAR Council will now begin." called a caramel colored female lizard, Delta Sheiom. 3 other lizards took thier seat around a around table in a dark room in the Council building in the center of Alma'Ton.

"Where is Tresais Al'Tran" Epsilon Grar said aggravated, looking amongst those who were in attendance.

Almost as if on que, Tresais Al'Tran entered the room, he eyes hard and calculating as he took his seat next to the Delta. Len sat at the head of the table, boredom etched into his rugged features. With a sigh, Len lifted his head off his his fist and gazed at the Tresais coldly, anger and disappointment blazing in his eyes.

"The 'Whole' chose you to lead them. Don't let them down Al'Tran." Len said simply. The Tresais laughed, stroking his chin as if had a beard.

"I assure you Preeminence, in no way shape or form do I plan to fail the 'Whole', I had other matters to take care of." Al'Tran said nonchalantly.

"You were elected to make the hard decisions, to make the important ones, to do what the 'Whole' cannot do as one. You cannot be late." Len retorted.

"Enough. The Council has begun and we must go over many matters of importance." Sheiom said deadpan, despite the apparent sarcasm in her voice. The group grew silent as the Beta, who had remained silent throughout the whole conversation spoke.

"These are updates on long lasting bills that have been passed." Shen said as he stood up before the Council. "The 40 Year Hootin Plan has begun. We have captured 136 Hootins, of those, only 40 are males. We we have forced the males to mate with most of the females and we have a confirmed 20 pregnancies.‘’ Shen explained.

"Reiterate for us the 40 Year Plan.‘’ Len mumbled tiredly.

"Of course. The 40 Year Plan is a program to breed and raise Hootin numbers. We will raise 2 generations of them, then slaughter the first generation. Hootins are rich in iron and fat, this will provide soldiers with much needed nutrients and energy on the battlefield."

"Will this plan benefit the Whole?‘’ Sheiom said, her lips set in a thin line. A resounding yes rang throughout the room.

"Then continue." Len said simply, waving his hand.

"Aye, it has come to to the attention of the Council that the Talos, heavily armored Hootins are in possession of a cannon, capable are firing coloured ammunition that can vaporize a being."

"Why did you bring this up Shen, this does not threaten the Whole?‘’ Sheiom said aggravated.

"This will be a problem if we ever go to war with them. With an alliance with the Pale Queen in the works, the Talos may see this as a threat. We cannot fight them in the air with that cannon." Grar said simply.

"No doubt it would benefit the Whole if we acquired that weapon for defensive purposes. But do we have any right take it out of fear and speculation, lets be honest Shen brought it up to cause trouble."

"We know that cannon will benefit the Whole, and if we were to ever fight them, it would affect us. The Talos are strong, and we cannot take them head on. The cannon is extremely large and will take almost 500 to 1000 flies to carry. If we really want to do this, we cannot to this without help.‘’ Len finally said, speaking up after listening to the opinions of the rest of the Council.

"An idea. We take the Talos down from the inside. Convince some Hootin to infiltrate the Talos with the Guild, take Talos armor, and fire it at the rodents and hornets. See how they react. If they see this as war, they wipe put the Talos, if they attack with to diplomacy, have the Guild assassinate a Talos and plant evidence that it was the hornets. Simple."

Len chuckled. "You never cease to amaze me Sheiom." Len glanced at Shen. "Shen, we will go over the logistics of this later. It is likely this will not be done. But we must ask ourselves in what way does this benefit the whole in the long run."

"Next!" Grar yelled.

"The Pale Queen as agreed to an alliance. A Trade Hub is to be built in the Green Flatlands." Shen said quickly.

"Do we agree that this well be of use to the Whole.‘’ A resounding yes rang out.

"The Rodents and Hornets have formed an alliance of sorts."

"Will this effect the Whole?" Len asked tiredly.

Al'Tran spoke up."In the long run, military excursions will be difficult. It would be best to try and become allies to them."

"Lastly, or neighbors to the north, the Doska. They are large and powerful, extremely capable war machines." Shen said excitedly.

"We know this will benefit the whole, but they are huge, and that will be difficult to tame." Len said stroking his chin.

"Raining acid on them can weaken them. With the constant rain we can weaken to the point the guerilla warfare will be very effective." Al'Tran said leaning back in his seat.

"This will be discussed at a later date. As off now, we will focus on the 40 Year Plan and the Trade Hub. This Council is adjourned." Len said finally before leaving the Counil to its own devices.

Tatos: The Assault on the Tower Q3

Two hundred soldiers, that was how many had been gathered to destroy the bandit camp, and take the end table known as the Tower of the Valley. This was what those among the Tatos knew it as, they considered Q6 the valley, the place where the tribes of old still ruled. Commander Katherine took several heavy breaths at having reached the top of the arm of the couch, her warriors following behind as they gathered behind a old stuff animal, musty and molded with age. They were all wearing armor that had been gathered from the shop they had travelled through, it was worn with knicks, and cracks in it, but they had repared it as best they could with glue, and putty. She pulled her two swords made from the edges of razor blades off her hips, and looked as the others pulled spears made of wood, swords made of pewter, and even one or two had axes, or hammers made of stone. Katherine peered around the foot of the stuffed bear to peer into the bandit camp.

Several Mantids with a rogue Roach stood atop the lip of the drawer, it being slightly ajar to allow for passage. The group where supposed to be lookouts, but where more interested at talking among themselves about their most recent raid. The roach was currently describing how he had single handedly taken an Ant caravan, assuring the Mantids that he was being sincere while quite obviously lying through his mandibles. They where unsuspecting of an attack by the Tatos, but where always ready for combat. The near by Roaches made sure of that, their home occasionally raided by the savages, or prepared for when a caravan came through. The group of lookouts began arguing amongst themselves not ready for an organized attack.

The soldiers were itching to get into a fight, their heads covered in plastic and pewter armor, their bodies clad in the same. Their hands gripped their weapons tightly as Commander Katherine waited for exactly the right moment. She waited, staring at the insects and muttered under her breath. "Disgusting creatures." She turned to her men and nodded and stared to run out, their armor didn't clink or clack like real plate would instead it was quite as it rubbed together. She waited till she got to the first roach guard, and screamed loudly. Just as the insect turned her sword came down cutting through it's chitin head and into it's chest sending it tumbling backwards. "Kill them all Warriors of Tatos! Kill the wretched others! They do not deserve to live!" The soldiers clashed with the bandits as they were taken by surprise. The weapons they held punching through or crushing the natural chitin armor the insects had. Though two faced off with Mantid and seemed to be making no progress. The other soldiers were pushing the roaches back. Though a Assasin bug was tearing into a group of five Tatos warriors that were barely holding on and keeping the beast back.

The sound of battle roused those inside the end table and dozens of Mantid warriors skittered out of the opening in the dawer before the Tatos soldiers could surround it and make it into a death trap. The new comers came to aid their bretheren making a battle line of wicked flashing claws, their speed easily outstripping that of the Tatos, but their armor and weapons still made short work of the Mantids. More roaches followed out of the drawer and threw themselves at the Tatos, their considerable bulk driving through the first few lines, only to be enveloped and cut down by a dozen soldiers each. the gaps made by the roaches where quickly exploited by the mantids, catching soldiers with their back turned or those that had been knocked to the ground. The assassin bug had killed several of the Tatos harrassing it, but the remaining two had spears and with its wounds it had slowed down considerably, if they were careful the remaining soldiers could bring it down.

The Tatos warriors were skilled, well armed, and ready to die for their cause. So many did, but Commander Katherine would not lose this battle, she would not dare lose a battle ever. She Charged between the two spearmern and brough her razor swords in slicing the insect into three pieces by cutting through at the connections at the thorax to the head, and thorax to the abdomen. She brought both swords up in the air sucking in her stomach as a spear stabbed past her belly. More soldiers rushed in their spears slamming through roach bodies. A old grizzled warrior charged forward a large stone hammer carried in both hands swing around breaking the two front legs of a mantid causing it to collapse, and then swords and spears stabbed into it's head and body. "Damn these blasted insects to the great beyond! Kill them all! They have no place in this world!"

The Tatos drove the Insects back and surrounded the entrance into the end table. Several roaches tried to make their way out but were put down before they had a chance to attack. After they were dead the insects stopped trying to make their way out. Many of them dropped down through holes in the table and out the bottom and fled the Tatos onslaught. The commander ordered a squad of soldiers to drop down and investigate. When they do they are instantly attacked by the few Mantids holding the entrance and dispatched. One of the Mantids yells up at the group of Tatos "Get out! this is our tower!"

Commander Katherine stared down into the drawer at her dead soldiers, and frowned. She turned to one of the soldiers. "Grab everyone with a shield. Bring them here." Within moments there were around thirty sloldiers standing ready, each of them holding a pewter or plastic shield. She motioned them to stand with their backs to the drawer open. "I want you to step in backwards! Make a shield wall We will come in after!" The soldiers nodded and on a count of three they all stapped back as one, dropping into the drawer and holding up their shields. The mantids remaining crashed against them, but they held strong in return. Quickly the opening was filled with more soldiers, their spears stabbing over the shields of the warriors before the to pierce the Mantrids that still stood against them. They moved forward pushing the Mantids back with every step, looking to box them in completely, trapping them between the back of the drawer and a wall of spears and shields.

The Mantids began to realize that they where being trapped and picked the center of the Tatos lines and charged, their claws stabbing at the soldiers to break through, but the Tatos held fast. The remaining mantids fled, through several holes in the base of the drawer and dropped down to the floor fleeing in all directions. the Tatos assesed their wounded after checking that the tower was taken, ensuring the bandits had all fled.

Commander Katherine stared at the carnage and nodded slowly "Very good. Get these disgusting bodies off my tower." The soldiers were already hard at working doing just that shoving the corpses off the edge and to the carpet below. About thirty soldiers had been injured and just over forty had been killed, all in all though it was a real victory. They had further ensured the safety of Tatos frrom threats that could face it. Commander Katherine turned. "Inform the High Lord we have taken the tower, and that we need a guard detachment here, as well as engineers to begin constructing ballistae and catapults." The soldier saluted and ran. Katherine went about watching other men and women go about the task of removing armor from their fallen bretheren.

Production had gone incredibly well so far.

It had only been a few hours since their arrival, but already the Migrant workers had completed the crane and scaffold from the White Monolith and begun hauling up the large crustaceans and their handlers from the desert floor far below. The heights were staggering, and the fishing net bulged with the forms of lobsters, crabs, and the tiny Migrant races as they pulled them up two at a time. Even with the intricate system of pulleys Shorr had devised out of braided fishing line and carved driftwood, it still took several hundred Brachycea working in unison to lift and lower the device.

Still, they worked tirelessly, their shared past making them a dauntless and hardy race. As the large beasts were dropped carefully to the hard floor, they were taken by their handlers to a hastily prepared stable yard, where they were fed and watered with some of the remaining provisions the Migrants had brought. To everyone, especially Shorr’s, great surprise and elation the small group that they had left behind carried more than just the provisions they had when they left. It seemed that while they were waiting for word, they have been actively scavenging the area. They carried many bundles of driftwood, seaweed, and shells from the desert. They also had a large amount of strangers things: metallic cylinders that dwarfed the small creatures, plastic utensils of a wide variety, and a great supply of glass in a variety of colors. Flotta had checked the numbers, and despite the recent influx of supplies from below she was worried. They were getting very low on provisions. Foraging in the desert had been almost nonexistent, and while careful planning had gotten them this far, they would soon be starving to death if they did not find food and water soon.

“Mother Flotta!” A young Ithscies girl called, her webbed feet sticking slightly to the cold floor. She was breathing hard, hands on her knees when she reached the old matriarch. “Catch your breath child there’s no rush,” Flotta said calmly, laying a caring hand on the girls shoulder. “We’ve found something you must come quick!”

Flotta smiled, her confidence boosted by the young girl’s enthusiasm. It never ceased to amaze her how resilient these people were. After all they had been through, they could still find excitement in the world.

“Alright alright I’m coming,” Flotta said softly, and followed the girl towards the second gigantic structure that completely covered one side of this realm. White like the other strange device that stood across from it, this one was far more massive, and had been the subject of several Brachycea and Ithscies groups trying to climb the smooth surface to see what lay over the rim. They had managed to build ladders and scaffolding out of thin papery sticks, the ends of which were covered in a soft downy fur like a ball. They found hundreds of these sticks inside of a wooden cavern just adjacent to the White Monolith, and found that they were flexible and very sturdy. She climbed the ladders slowly, her old bones creaking, and it was a long time before she reached the top. Leaning against a railing, she surveyed the new scenery.

What had first appeared to be a massive wall was in fact much more. It was a bowl, like the one they had climbed out of to enter this world yet this one dwarfed the other by a hilarious comparison. A metal pipe jutted out on one side, and she could make out the shapes of several Ithscies and Brachycea around the pipe, climbing over it and figuring out its workings. The large form of Foreman Shorr was wish them, and he turned his body and scuttled over to meet her as she pushed up off the rail.

“I apologize for sending for you Flotta, I would not have asked you to make the climb if I did not believe it was necessary.” The large crustacean like being said, his voice deep but wet sounding and his mandibles clicked between the words. Flotta waved a withered hand at him. “Nonsense Shorr, I may be old but I’m not dead. Now tell me what’s so special about this place? It looks almost like the other, except this one has no water we can use.” She looked over the edge to the bottom, seeing the smooth white substance gradually even out into a flat barren plain. She heard Shorr chuckle, his manidbles clicking and his large body shook slightly.

Floota raised her eyebrows. Well this certainly must be something, I don’t think I’ve ever heard Shorr laugh. “I see your eyesight hasn’t completely gone Flotta. Yes, there is no water here. Yet…” He said as he gestured for her to follow him. They had build a pathway and railing along the rim of the bowl, making it easier to walk without slipping and falling to your death. Flotta staggered along behind him, clutching the rail as they made their way closer to the metal pipe. When they were just beneath it, Shorr looked up at the several Itchscies straddling the metal surface, fishing line tied around their waists.

“Show her,” he said, his large claws opening and closing with anticipation. The fish-man reached then down, the others hold his feet so he wouldn’t fall. He reached a small hand inside the opening of the elbow joint in the pipe, and pulled his hand out, a look of satisfaction and success on his face. Flotta squinted, trying to see what was in his hand.

“Shorr what are you talking about…I don…..WATER!” She gasped, suddenly focusing on the droplets falling from the fish-mans webbed fingers. “Shorr you’ve found water! Does it flow out of the pipe? How do we get it to come out?” She was talking excitedly now, looking up at the large Labor boss and then back to the pipe. Shorr nodded, “We were just about to try something actually, I wanted you to be here if it worked. That lever there seems to have some connection to the pipe based on my examination. We were just about to try and lift it.” With that Shorr nodded, and about 50 Brachycea braced themselves, putting their large claws up against a metal lever on the top of the pipe. The leader of the group called out, and they heaved, moving the lever up slowly, a steady hissing and gurgling sound being heard deep within the walls around them. They pushed up more, the gurgling intensified, and suddenly an onrush of water burst through the hole at the end of the joint. The group cheered and clapped, watching the water flow out of the pipe, and the Brachycea used a large lever made of driftwood to lift higher, making the flow of water even faster. Flotta watched as the water filled the bowl, but her face fell in disappointment as she watched it disappear down the hole in the base of the white substance.

Shorr noticed her look, and signaled the workers again. They moved to a second lever device, this one smaller and below the large one that controlled the water. Much easier to manage, they pushed up on it and Flotta heard a loud *shunck* as something shifted in the walls. Instead of disappearing down the hole, now the water started to build up inside the giant white bowl.

She clapped her hands excitedly. “Shorr your genius never ceases to amaze me! This is perfect! If we fill this completely we will have more water than we could ever need…” her eyes shifted down to the bowl again, her mind racing through the possibilities. “Wait! This could be so much more….Shorr we still have some of the live minnows from our supplies…and with the seaweed we brought back from the desert we could turn this into a farm! We could make our own food and water right here…never have to worry about foraging for supplies again. Tell your men to start layering the bottom with sand and rocks. I’ll have the fish and seaweed brought up when the water is high enough,” she finished with a big smile on her face, beaming.

This was the answer to their problems. If they could get a good crop of seaweed going, and allow the small amounts of minnows they had left to breed and multiply they would have more food than they knew what to do with. Everyone would be fed and safe.

---

On the bathroom floor

“Get that palisade up! We need to seal off this Gateway before we can really do anything else!” General Gnash commanded out to his troops. Companies of Carlachii Warriors and Brachycea Engineers had taken the vast majority of driftwood from the new supplies and were building a palisade wall in a concave arc from the edges of the vast gap in the massive barrier. Scouts had reported that these barriers seems to separate sections of this world into smaller bits, and just the brief glance outside had proved there was an incredible amount of territory left unchecked. Gnash still had one group out, sneaking along and looking for signs of danger. He trusted his men, he knew they would not let themselves be discovered easily. But he needed to be ready incase anything decided to come looking. Perhaps those small pink creatures were a foraging party making camp, and the rest came to investigate. Well, they would be ready if it came to that. The palisade was nearly complete, and Gnash had already spoken to Shorr about building more permanent and formidable defenses. They could gather rocks from the desert, and the wooden cavern which was being emptied of supplies could be dismantled. He had taken stock of the findings, confiscating anything with a vaguely military application. He had a team breaking down the plastic that held together five razor sharp blades, with more of the strange items waiting for deconstruction nearby. Plastic boxes filled with waxy thread provided him with ample amounts of resources to tie his palisade together.

His hand slid along the edge of the new sword he had created out of one of the razors, testing the edge. It was brutally sharp, and he had filed serrations along the blade for an even more vicious bite.

Yes, whatever came through this Gateway would receive a nasty surprise. The Migrants weren’t running anymore.

The Spider Trade convoy continued regardless of the newcomers, and one such convoy was on its way to a popular trade destination. Q2, specifically, the Isle Eternia, well known for its finished goods. This made it a popular in between destination for convoys coming back with raw goods, but preferred dealing in properly finished trade goods, which made a strong convoy presence coming back from other lands within the Great House. Of course, approaching Eternia, they were going about business as usual, securing the convoy for transit as they started making their way through Q2 to approach the mighty walls of the Eternia people, noting the rather heavy busy work going on the wall, probably because of the newcomers. The convoy leader knew his brother was going to trade with them, and had wished him luck as they parted ways.

Approaching the lowest gate, designated for trade use, going through the process of letting the guards sweep the convoy for anything forbidden for trade. There shouldn't be anything, no one having passed on trade restrictions that have changed in the meantime, the convoy's guards working with the Eternia forces to make things move as expediently as possible, before being waved in through the gates. As isolationist as they were as a people, the trade was necessary for continued success, and the spiders had never betrayed such an old race of people, so they had a decent rapport between the two kinds. Made trade easier and more lucrative, so that was all that mattered to the spider folk. They walked the familiar path up to the trade levels where they would work on finding a place to set up for trade, talking with other traders and travelers, collecting information for their own good, and indirectly, the good of the Guild.

Watching as the spider convoy had traversed its way down the faded wooden floor that lead from the eastern wing of the house with all the bedrooms into the western lands of where the living room, office and of course, the rodentfolk's home in the kitchen were. Guards where on high alert today, additional ratfolk had been called up after there was word that there was some sort of battle was happening in Q3 over the tower. Additional scouting reports and observations had confirmed that there was indeed a battle, quite a brutal one as well with the victors executing the losers by throwing them over the edge it seemed, all done by the bloodied hand of the Tatos none the less.

Eternia had seen its fair share of Tatos, the humanoid little men clad in plastic plate with a hatred anything that wasn't their own kind. Old stories even spoke of incidents where the Tatos had killed Hootins, their closest biological relatives, for being near those of other species. Nasty bunch they were, the lot of them little more than killers and savages in the eyes of the island. Their relations had always been poor even since the age where the first mice settlers came to the Great Home; the fact that the two had fought each other on an off wasn't helping the two races see eye to eye. Many grizzled veteran ratfolk wariros spoke of the sieges that the Tatos undertook against their fair city, how the wars were more brutal than anything else they had ever seen.

The occasional raider incursions were little more than heavy rain in comparison to the Tato's sieges. The wasteland that surrounded the isle is said to have almost come entirely from such battles; fire scorching the wood with great black streaks of soot and ash as even chemical weapons had been used. Made of soap, boraxo, bleach, detergent and whatever other vile substances the mice and rats had found, these substances had been brewed in bowls on the countertop of the isle, their repugnant fumes too noxious to be kept in the Nest City. Once these substances had been carefully stewed to lethal perfection, their unholy ichor had been gently scooped into little urns that were thrown over to the Tatos lines, already peppered by arrows and impaled with bolts.

It wasn't to say that the Tatos weren't capable of dealing damage to the forces of Eternia though. Their slow, primitively made catapults (in Eternia's eyes any ways), made up what they lacked in fire power with sheer destrutive ability; the massive balls of shot taking out entire sections of the great walls and instantly flattening squads of rodent warriors. Backed up by their devistating fire power, the savage brutes that the Tatos called their "army" crashed against the walls countless times; each man killed had another instantly fill their place, for each ladder the rodents pushed down, two more came up. The Tato tide was relentless as metal met plastic, soldiers shouting and roaring as they hacked, slashed, stabbed and salughtered each other until the walls rank red with blood. Bodies and limbs littered the ramparts and floor as warriors fell to blades and spears and arrows or even pushed off to their doom, bones landing with a sickeningly loud crunch as they toppled from level to level, edge to edge. Never has there been more gruesome combat than those which had the Tatos arrive, the end result always looking like some sickening festival or gore and violence with blood painting the walls, gore strung up like decorations and limbs all over the place.

A series of gates opened as the spiders where welcomed in, guards quickly herding the convoy in in fear that someone might attempt to exploit the situation and rush in unwanted. A group of micefolk accompanied by armored ratfolk approached the caravan, the micefolk making small to the spiders as they discussed the travel through the tribes of Q6 and business. With the help of the guards, their ratfolk bodyguards used long blunted poles to poke at the cargo, probing it for contraband and whatnot, as if they had expected the spiders to betray their longstanding relationship to Eternia. But protocols where protocols, it was basically just formality at this point as they lazily jabbed the containers before giving the all clear to the mice.

Nodding, one of the mice disappeared and dashed up the system of stairs and bridged, out of sight until the gate into the Nest City proper. Welcoming their esteemed guests, the micefolk bowed before rushing off some place else to take care of some other urgent matter no doubt, leaving their guards with the convoy as they made their way through the labyrinth of a city. the central. The inside of the kitcen isle was vast and seemed nearly endless as christmas-light fire lanterns fueled by purified and refined grim and grease lit up the internals of the Isle of Eternia.

The entire place had a very strange vibe for newcomers, both appearing disorganized and rambshackled while feeling well planned and sturdily constructed. The spiders however had long gotten used to the feeling, the maze of paths and roads almost like a second home. Making their way to the central area of the city, one of the many weight-controlled elevators jerked its way down to roughly the same level the caravan was on. More mice appeared, yellow pieces of aged notebook paper in had as they calcuated the weight of the containers that were being put on the hanging pallet. Such math was directly responsible for the movement of proper weights to "power" the lifts, too much means that it could rush up at break neck speeds and too little means that could plunge into the undernest.

With the lot of their cargo removed and the mice finishing up their question about the weight of their goods, the spiders were led up more winding paths and levels to the one of the market areas, officially labelled "Market District 03". The way up had been cluttered with new supply dumps and barricades since the spider's last visit, no doubt a last line of defense should Eternia be once again besieged by the Tatos. Quickly clambering over the new obstacles, the arachnoids had little issue traversing the maze-like city up to Market District 03.

The market was bustling with tailed furballs of all shapes and sizes mucking about, receiving daily rations, bartering for bits of scrap, selling services, just another day at the markets. Once again, yet another official-looking mouse stood in front of the spider's normal location. Official record keeping stuff, and location taxes that were quickly paid by the caravan master who wished the little creature good day as she scurried off into the depths of the city. Now with their location set, the caravan began to split, the merchants and laborers working once reopening their spot and bracing the the onslaught of mice and rats who'd want a piece of their foreign goods and the guards found their way to the nearest taverns or whorehouses. The caravan master himself caught a lift down to one of the government buildings dedicated to trade, built out of an empty box of baking soda with plastic wrap windows letting in light to discuss the more official trades to be conducted.

The Pale Queen in her throne gives birth to several more future warriors and awaits reports from her scouts, while several convoys of slaves and warriors make their way to Q10 by climbing across the outside walls of the house. After the alliance request was formally accepted by the Union plans for a small outpost where made, a ceramic pot full of dirt would suffice as a trading hub between the Union, Ants and Spider guilds.

one team of Scouts give their report on the Tatos expansion into the end table tower, an annoying growth of the Tatos but of little importance. "General Alara, I want you to make plans for a raid on these Tatos. Weaken them, bloody them, remind them to fear us." General Alara bows in the darkness, Yes, Mother. shall we take prisoners."

"No survivors, the Tatos are too proud to be proper slaves, and too weak. Bring any back to us, they will make a fine meal."

Ambassador Takah interjects, "Mother, that may cause some resentment among the other tribes. Some of them seem to be taking the Hootins in. their Tatos cousins are likely to be viewed much the same way."

"That is none of our concern. Let them hate, so long as they fear us."

Another group of scouts came in to the chambers, the lead scout gives the report. "Mother, we have found a cache of supplies, great cans of 'DR. Pepper. and a box containing some latex tubes, we are unsure of their intended use but would make excellent bow material."

---

Scout group 1352-234

Creeping along the ceiling banister above the bathroom the lead scout calls to a halt and watches something happening below him. "Sir, this is roach territory.. we cant stop" says one of the scouts in a hushed tone. The leader however ignores the comment and continues watching. "There is a new tribe here, some fish people. They seem strong, but they are so few." one of the other scouts comments, Best not worry about them then, the roaches will take them out before long. Still... We should inform the general. all these new comers are making me uncomfortable.

The front entrance, the entryway, the portal to the great world as some would say. It has an unlikely and unruly group of guardians. This is known by most of the races and an area to stay away from for several reasons, not all of which include the symphony of low croaks and the padding of rushed feet against tile. This is the land of two races that came to a mutual agreement, and a third that sought refuge due to their small numbers. The Sticky-Shell Union was what they were called, and they were the only thing that came from the entryway that wasn’t larger than a few inches. The deeper into the territory you go, however, the quiet sound of hammer on hot metal and anvil could be heard in small pockets of the tent cities erected by the Sticky-Shells.

Small warbands of skittering gecko soldiers moved quickly along the edge of the borders of their realm, watching closely for any intruders, not that any of their nearby neighbours would be keen on fighting with them. The wasps and their ilk that lived in what seemed to be the kitchen area, as well as the pesky rodents that took the breakfast bar, were neither the sor of enemies that the Sticky-Shell’s wanted to deal with, nor did they want to enter the territory of the Tato’s. For the most part, the reptiles kept to themselves, hunting for whatever smaller prey they could find and harvesting the meat from the pillbugs that they kept penned up in areas further into the territory. Much of the infrastructure was kept at the floor level, but most of the chameleons prefered the higher up precipices that were provided by great tree at the far side of the territory. Much of the “political” dealings were taken care of at the Great Tree, and many of the battle plans were discussed at it’s base as well.

The early part of the day was quiet, very quiet. Not much of anything was going on and even the No-Mans land was quite silent as well. Scores of toads with sharpened axes and leather backed shields sat at the ready, waiting for the order to proceed into the Hymenoptera Empire. Dartfoot, the leader of the toads, paced in front of the army of toads and waited for some time before he croaked up and spoke to the army of toads “We will be sending a few small scouting parties into the Empire of those damn winged bastards… Maybe if those idiot geckos are quiet enough, they could kill a few wasps and bring them home for dinner.. But it’s unlikely that the dummies will be able to do anything. If they don’t return, however, consider it an act of war. IF we hear nothing from the scouting parties by noon, then we will be forced to attack and take blood for blood. Likely that the idiot geckos would probably get themselves killed though…”

The speech ended as a few small bands of five or six geckos sneakily crossed into the seemingly unguarded border, moving along towards the cabinets that sat on the other side of the room. Gentle pattering of padded feet against the tile floor was the only sound that could be heard for the time being as the few small bands of scouts made their way deep into the unknown territory of the Hymenoptera Empire,to gain information concerning resources and perhaps to gain leverage in any sort of combat situation involving the wasps. For the most part, The Union was not very knowledgeable of the surrounding nations, and it was a troublesome time for the Chieftain. A lack of allies and a greater lack of trade meant that sooner or later, the Union would need to seek different methods of acquiring resources and be able to support the growing communities that seemed to make a pilgrimage to see the great entrance way. War would come, and it would mean the life or total death of the union of tribal reptiles.

Development had gone exceedingly faster than expected. The Migrants had managed to finish the palisade wall that protected their growing settlement from the Gateway. Carlachii warriors armed with new razor blade swords and crossbows carved from driftwood, dental floss and bolts tipped in their own constantly shedding teeth patrolled the wooden ramparts. Small teams of Brachycea had begun constructing a more permanent and fortified barrier behind the palisade. This was being built out of stone hauled up from the crane from the desert floor, as well as using bags filled with sand to pad the gaps and act as mortar. Construction was going slower there, as General Gnash had conceded to allow the majority of the workers to move to other projects now that the direct need for protection had been satisfied.

The Lake, as it was now being called, had filled up to a few inches of the white rim and had a thick layer of sand lining the smooth bottom. Teams of Ithcises swam to the bottom, planting the stalks of seaweed in an ever expanding plantation, using some of the live crops they still had as well as seeds they had managed to keep moist. Small herds of minnows now roamed freely, some already beginning to spawn among the seaweed fronds to the delight of the Migrant workers there.

The crane was becoming increasingly useful, and several expeditions of especially brave individuals had gone back out into the desert, looking for supplies. They returned with sea glass, more driftwood, sand, stones, and other various pieces of odd looking trash that the Migrants were using to build more permanent homes and buildings. Scaffolding and ladders were everywhere, as the new world they were in had a dizzying array of heights that the small people couldn’t hope to reach. They had discovered yet another bowl like area of the same smooth white stone, with another of the metal pipes that was able to spew forth water. This area was being built into a vast structure, a stronghold for the race. While most of the inhabitants were now living and building market stalls on the floor below, the greater height here allowed for more protection and the water filled bowl gave the inside of the partially constructed fortress a constant supply of water. The White Monolith that had been the entrance to the world now had many ladders descending into its depths, and the Migrants had taken to laying their existing eggs within its waters. It would be easy to escape back down the tunnels should the need arise.

Things were looking up for the Migrants, and their new world was becoming increasingly less scary. Now that they were more established, Gnash felt the need to explore the world in a bit more force. He turned to one of his warriors.

“Take a platoon of your finest and set out after the scouts. They shouldn’t be far. Link in with them and find out what they have learned. I want you to then continue your patrol in more force. Look for supplies, possible expansions, and any threats that we need to be aware of. If you are attacked fight back if you can. If you need to run make your route back here as hard to follow as possible. I don’t want the enemy coming right up to the front gate. It would be best if any attackers had no survivors left to tell of our arrival.” He said the last part with a snarl, and the warrior saluted with a wicked, tooth filled grin. Soon, 30 warriors heavily armed and armored in sea shells, new swords, crossbows and spears rode out on the mounts to link up with the scouts. What lay beyond their borders they didn’t know, but they were prepared to meet it with ferocity if need be.