From the pock-marked craters of your hive's ruins, the survivors peek out and meet once more.
It has been a scant week since the queen has been taken. She is not dead, for you still feel her presence. Yet the distance is felt by all: shells have cracked, spears once fused to your limbs now held in gripping protrusions. Yours is the worst of all, reptilian eyes peeking out from brittle exoskeleton.
Still, it grants you a small sliver of hope. A foreign independence has taken hold of you and enabled you to gather the remnants in search of the queen.
>take the spears of old. Sharp, familiar, and potent foci for caustic spells
>scavenge the crossbows of the invaders. You were defeated at range, and you will not so easily let that happen again
>take only food and fallen brethren, using their meat to stave off this, this mutation
You march as one, strings twanging as several work out the mechanisms of these weapons of war.
But as the minutes turn to hours, you soon find that the traditional posture ill-suits your new forms. Your legs are too long, too mismatched to continue on fours. Instead, you walk upright, middle limbs hanging loosely to the side or carrying extra supplies.
Though it increases your speed, it tires you out far quicker, making camp at the about the same pace as if escorting the queen.
this will not do, you will not catch up at this rate.
>continue at present, using the free arms to study the crossbows. Once ready, march again on fours, sacrificing readiness for speed
>forced march, hunting food only when it is directly in your path. Take advantage of your new speed and couple it with endurance
>drop the uneeded, the unnecessary. the weak.
no time for rest, no time for delays.
you march, and march, and crawl beneath the scorching heat. ignoring the lone grazers here and there, you fall upon a pack of lions. claws meet bolts and acidic mandibles bite into flesh, but a good quarter are lost before the pack retreats, weak from exhaustion.
from those slain, meat is rationed and shared, and for the first time you hear complaints. sentiments of hunger and frustration ripple through your retinue.
Still, you are making good time. You feel the pull ever more closely. the link that would kill you should it be severed is close enough to shut down any ideas of insubordination.
>make improvements upon the crossbows, use what knowledge you retained from your illustrious hive.
>hunt down more food, heedless of the attention it will draw from your foes in favor of well-supplied troops
>train the troops in tactics and specialize in taking down these hated foes
bolts are hollowed and filled with acid. a simple furnace is made and from the old and ruined, new triggers and sights are made that better match your biology.
But most importantly, fresh wood is cut and dissolved into waterproofed planks. these are used to make a basic repeating mechanism, firing bolts much faster than normal.
With these dangerous new weapons, you quickly burst down their scouting party. You have some freedom before they notice.
>stealth.try to get close enough to the queen to receive orders
>head on. keep the chaos of battle away from the queen