Not only that, this was the queen. I could only hope she hadn’t had chance to hatch a brood of reinforcements, though I suspected we’d have seen them already if that were the case.
Still, time to put contingencies in place…
Satisfied that its attention was firmly fixed upon Gneil, I had Ris’kin look slowly around the assembled gnomes until I spotted the three carpenters. Recalling the structures I’d spotted earlier, I scanned the caldera until I found the most likely one. Then I sent my carpenters scurrying in that direction, followed soon after by the botanists, both protectively clutching sacks as carefully as though they contained precious crystalware.
The trogloraptor was still fixated on Gneil, standing beside the altar. It lowered itself toward him, palps waving gently, as though it was intending to greet him with a handshake, or perhaps even pick him up. My high cleric lifted a wary hand to meet it.
Then it stopped. The arachnid seemed to shudder, as though ridding itself of whatever outside influence was directing its actions. The reddish film cleared from its eyes, and it seemed for the first time to actually notice its surroundings. The hairs on its back rose in agitation.
Uh-oh.
Gneil ducked the palps that attempted to grab him. He shouted a warning to the acolytes, presumably telling them to back off and give the creature space, but it was too late. It charged toward my gathered denizens, bowling over acolytes as it barreled down the steps of the temple.
My first instinct was to rally our warriors. I was sure that with enough time and strategy we’d be able to bring it down. But time was something we really, really didn’t have. We didn’t need to kill it; we only needed to get rid of it.
My second instinct was to have Gneil and the acolytes gather the non-combatants into a safe area.
Where exactly is “safe,” though?
Being stuck here on the ground was limiting, but even in god’s-eye, I doubted I’d have found an appropriate refuge in the moment. The leggy arachnid would be able to simply step over any barricade we made, and there was no way in all the hells any gnome could outrun it.
Furthermore, the Augmentary had said trogloraptors were sensitive to light, but it looked like our little illumishrooms caused it about as much discomfort as a candle might bother a hill giant. It rampaged through the plaza, one of its massive legs piercing the thatched roof of one of the pop-up shelters and crushing the supports inside it. Part of the shelter remained attached to its leg; the hide coverings of the walls caught on the trogloraptor’s spine-like hairs, and the ruined tent flapped along behind it like toilet roll stuck to a shoe.
Chaos had come to the camp. Again. But this time, it might be chaos that saved us.
Ris’kin and I signaled to Hoppit. To her credit, the general barely hesitated before relaying the order to her sergeants, who spread it to the rest of the tribe.
An instant later, gnomes and badgers were running about in all directions. I’d essentially conveyed instructions for them to retreat at will, including the soldiers. Whereas in past engagements I’d usually order them to fight in formation and defend the con-combatants, now I was basically giving them permission to flee in whatever direction took their fancy.
More than a few of my loyal warriors struggled with this concept. Most of them had already been gathering into schiltrons—small shield formations—and now they stopped, looking around in confusion, while others ran off in pursuit of children and other vulnerable denizens.
Thankfully, the non-warriors were causing enough chaos for their brethren’s habitual organization not to matter too much. I’d been correct in assuming that despite its fearsome appearance, the trogloraptor appeared more confused than aggressive. Like most predators, it hunted for food, not fun, and right now it was like a puppy in a chicken coop, turning in circles as though it didn’t know which of the tiny heat signatures to pursue first.
Heat…
Locating each of my cooks was much more difficult without being able to enter god’s-eye, I still had access to my map, and Ris’kin and I wove around the retreating gnomes until we found them one by one. Their instincts to flee were overcome by the strength of Adjure as I instructed them to follow my orders.
If we can’t drive it off, we’ll lure it away instead.
I was pretty certain my theory about these so-called ‘dire’ creatures receiving their own instructions from elsewhere was correct. That meant we needed to take advantage of its master’s current distraction and keep the confused creature busy long enough to buy the carpenters and cooks enough time to complete their tasks.
A mighty crash had me whirling around, dreading what had happened in the chaos. The battered tent the trogloraptor had been dragging behind it had caught on one of the wagons, upending it and making the arachnid stumble. To my horror I saw that a group of children had been hiding on the wagon; they tumbled to the ground as it tipped over, and the trogloraptor’s chelicerae clicked at the sight of so many heat signatures packed together in front of it. Ris’kin was already sprinting in their direction, though I feared we wouldn’t get there in time.
A flurry of feathers whirled in the space between the spider and the gnome children as a tiny storm of hoot-hoots flung themselves at the creature’s eyes. It waved its palps irritably to fend them off, then rose again to its full height beyond the reach of the as-yet flightless birds. The children, back on their feet, scooped up the fluffy owlets and retreated, some of the older children nearby bravely covering their retreat by throwing rocks and bits of rubble at
