Clotho paced her Dungeon Heart, filled to the brim with excitement and energy but unsure how to utilize it best. The tropical afternoon sun shone brightly down on the jungle, smothering it in humidity, but a stirring breeze from the south forewarned some sort of tempest on the way. Right now, Clotho wanted nothing more than to take off and careen through the skies, reveling in her power and freedom and a semblance of the child that she used to be. Deep within, however, she knew that the mantle of a Keeper embodied both diligence and seriousness, and so she stalked her lofty chamber with ideas flitting through her head like bees seeking the richest flower to sponge for honey. Her instincts told her that there were others out there, Keepers like her, who wouldn't be struggling with the issue of maturity. The knowledge imparted to her by the sting would only serve her so far, and the memories of the being whose insect avatar had stung her indicated that bloodthirsty expansionism wasn't wise. Searching for a solution, Clotho's ringed yellow eyes probed the corners of her Heart chamber, taking in the empty shelves, the empty chairs, the empty cocoon, and the gradually darkening sky. Before becoming the Swarm Keeper, Clotho had been nothing, empty like this room—it was up to her to fill it. A moment later, an idea struck her, the gossamer wings unfurled, and Clotho shot from the room up into the heavens. The scent of rain was in the air, but before the drops fell a little operation was in order.

Hundreds of feet below, in the hollow at the base of the tree, the Myrmidon brood was thriving. The first generation, sixteen strong, was hatched and had already bored deep gashes into the roots of the King Tree, where they feasted upon the wood. The heartwood of this colossal tree was in a viscous sap that, aside from being very nutritious, was also infused with magical essence, concentrated in the plant over many centuries. This sticky, arcane resin might have served as the prized commodity of the Virens Biomancers' Guild, which revered it for its ability to hasten the growth of living things, but instead it fed the swelling horde of Myrmidons, augmenting their growth rather than that of the Virens economy. By tomorrow, several generations of the ant warriors would be battle-ready.

The storm rolled in sooner than anticipated. Shrugging off the first few spatters of water on her shell, Clotho was nevertheless forced to land in Virens as the clouds burst into a tropical deluge. She alighted in the forest just outside the city, preserved to keep the place scenic, and carefully folded her wings around her to keep the rain off. There was no chance of disguising herself as a human; her unnaturally long arms and legs, coupled with her height of seven feet and very inhuman exoskeleton, meant she would be spotted in an instant. The pouring rain was both a blessing and a curse, for while the greater part of the townspeople would have fled indoors, the power of flight was denied to Clotho if her wings were doused. 

She remembered well the location of the Biomancers' Guild, having been drawn to often as a human. As she dashed through the town on articulated talons, she quickly recognized its flamboyantly decorated exterior, even in the half-light of the storm. After ascending its marble steps she pushed her way in through a thick kapok door that had once been painfully hard to budge.

Only twice had she ever seen the interior in her years of living in poverty in Virens. The snooty Guild magicians were no philanthropists, but they were definitely raking it in if their décor was to be any indicator. In a town with the primary export of wood, the ability to manipulate life with magic commanded a handsome income. A carpet woven to resemble grass extended across the entire floor, covered with fine wooden chairs, desks, books, etcetera. A cheery fire, the only light in the room, crackled in a pit on the east wall, where two magicians rested in high-backed seats. As the door blew shut behind Clotho, one of the men -whose striped green robe identified him as an administrator, called out without turning to look, “Vit, is that you? We've been waitin' for ages. Bring the wine over 'ere and take a seat, get warm.”

Clotho briefly smiled, showing a few fangs, before taking a few steps in their direction. As she approached, she raised her left hand and activated her magic. “You coming or what? Vitreus?” The magician shifted his weight and turned around just in time to see a glob of paper fluid sail past him and splatter onto the fire. In the instant before the blaze was extinguished, he beheld Clotho's inhuman body and sinister, grinning face. A low, guttural yelp issued from his stunned lips, “uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh!” and the room plunged into darkness except for a faintly glowing amulet around the leader's neck. He scrambled out of his chair and into the hardening liquid hive-material, where a wet [i]sploch[/i] signified that he was stuck. His elderly companion, terrified and confused, slipped on a puddle of goo and hit the ground hard, where he half-consciously covered his head with his arms. Clotho strode forward through the shadow, her luminous yellow gaze able to pierce the darkness. The man's lips quivered, no words forming from the breath he gasped out. Clotho knelt before him, rapier drawn, and plucked his amulet. A second later a flash of lightening lit up the room, and the two men were alone. Outside the thunder boomed.

[u]Status:[/u]
Location: King Tree, jungle north of Saploya River, N16°W12°
Dungeon: An incomplete and unfurnished yet vast hive spanning the length, width, and height of a massive, ancient tree in the jungle. The hive itself is constructed of a magically-created liquid that expands and hardens into a stiff, paperlike substance upon exposure to air. The main body of the hive is suspended by countless support struts that reach for hundreds of feet in every direction. The Dungeon Heart is situated at the very top of the tree. Currently has: Dungeon Heart, Myrmidon Spawner.
Forces: 15 Drone Imps, 17 Myrmidons