Fame and Fortune pt 5 (1058)

Rillik watched as the dense pack of mercs floated over the water on a shield toward land. He shook his head.

"Do you think they'll be alright?" Elly asked, uncharacteristically soft-spoken.

"No," the golgari said, his voice flat.

"I find their tactic questionable," Lacos noted, a hint of curiosity in his tone. "If they did not find success yesterday when attacking in numbers, why try again with an even larger group?"

The leader of the crew unclenched his hands from the railing at the edge of the the deck and rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the tension there.

"Let's head down into the boat. We can talk on the way."

The other two nodded, and together they checked their gear before climbing down the rope ladder into the waiting dinghy. Once they settled in their seats, Rillik picked up the oars, pushed off the ship and resumed his speech.

"There's two schools of thought when it comes to tackling weak monsters in large numbers. One way is to split wide and pick at them from the edges. If they try to swarm you, there's space to just pull back to prevent getting surrounded. It's slower, but much, much safer."

"And the other way?"

Rillik grunted.

"Go all in. Ball up in numbers and dive into the middle. The theory goes that the number of enemies doesn't really matter beyond a certain point. With enough people, you can layer shields, support and firepower to the point where the weak monsters can't touch you. It can work well enough under normal circumstances."

"Normal circumstances?" Lacos asked.

"The monsters are dumb and unorganised. It's possible that people have run into intelligent swarm monsters before, but I've never heard of it. The group up strategy is just not going to work."

"They obviously disagree."

"They're too greedy. They got a few kills yesterday and the cores were better than they expected."

He shook his head.

"The potential haul is so huge they aren't thinking about what it costs to get the little they got."

The meeting of crew leaders had been a disaster. Most crews had been cautious, as he had, poking and prodding to assess the monsters before they went in, standard delve tactics. A smaller number had been more reckless, diving in headfirst against the 'weak' ants. Those crews had lost people and gotten little in return, but what they had recovered had turned heads.

Greed was the leading cause of death amongst mercs, Rillik was sure of it.

"I think they're all dead," he said quietly, "unless they retreat early. The moment they go underground, I think that none of them will come back alive."

Elly's eyes teared up and Lacos nodded soberly. Rillik felt his frustration rise but he tried to let it go. He'd said his piece in the morning, Drake was a grown man, he could make his own decisions.

Even if they got him killed.

—----------------------

"Look lively there, lad!" a voice bellowed.

"Y-yes, sir!" Drake replied as he raised his blade and sent another slash streaking through the air.

The ants nimbly dodged to the side, allowing the blade light to scatter across the terrain. He grit his teeth as they clacked their mandibles, sure they were mocking him.

"Damn monsters," he grated.

They were money waiting to fall into his pockets, nothing more. Even so, the sight of so many closing in around them was unnerving. The ants were huge. Heavily armoured beasts, the frontline insects were durable beyond the mercenaries' expectations, shrugging off a lot of punishment and retreating when they took serious wounds.

"It's fine!" Hartos shouted. "Ball up, stay together, and we'll be fine!"

There were almost a thousand mercenaries in the group, using their Skills and magic to push back the waves of ants, who blasted them with acid and spells of their own.

"They don't want to commit," Hartos observed, clapping Drake on the shoulder, "scared of our numbers. Notice that we haven't been surrounded yet? If they get in front of us, they know we'll fight through them, so they don't."

"Are they trying to invite us deeper?" Drake asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

Hartos grinned savagely.

"If that's what they want, then more fool them. We'll smash them to bits and grab the rewards on the way out."

The large crew leader turned to roar over the din of the battle.

"Earth manipulators! Get to the front! We're going in!"

It took a few minutes to gather the spellcasters required as the mercenaries continued to exchange fire with an ever growing number of ants. The monsters never pushed too hard against them, preferring to stay back and hurl attacks from range. Every now and again, a surge of insects would rush forward, chomp on the shields and then fall back.

They may not have done much damage, but every charge sent Drake's heart pounding. Soon, the mages had opened up the side of the mountain, revealing a warren of tunnels and pockets within.

The mercenaries charged forward with a shout. Inside this mountain hid enough monster cores to make each and every one of them rich beyond their wildest dreams.

With a little luck, they might even uncover the mythic. If they returned with that core, and the carcass of the beast, they could add a king's ransom on top of the fortune.

They pushed forward, and the ants closed in behind them, scurrying over the walls and roof, skittering over each other in a constant wave of motion that was dizzying to the eye.

Drake cursed low under his breath as he tried to watch in every direction at once. Mages lofted balls of fire into the air as the environment grew darker the deeper they went. Mandibles flashed in the dark, bursts of light stabbing out of the rock to bite deep into the shields. Drake stabbed and slashed whenever he saw a clear line to a monster, but his opportunities grew fewer. Packed in underground, there was little room to move and the mercenaries didn't have much space between them.

"Hold the formation!" Hartos bellowed. "Don't spend your money before it's in your pocket! Focus, damn your hides!"

It was good advice, and Drake heeded it. He brushed the sweat from his forehead and blinked to clear his vision. It was hotter in the tunnels, and the fighting was growing more intense.

CRACK!

A piercing sound rang out from beneath his feet and Drake leapt to the side, pulse hammering in his temples. Directly beneath where he'd stood, an ant's mandibles gnashed against the bottom of the shield, scraping like a blade across glass. A few seconds later, those terrifying mandibles disappeared, shrinking back into the darkness.

If the shield hadn't been extended beneath his feet….

Suddenly, despite the hundreds and hundreds of mercenaries here with him, Drake no longer felt safe.