druid-of-the-swarm

[druid-of-the-swarm]

Heart Breaker

Three words was all it took. Three little words, said aloud and in a tone that could only be perceived as someone’s vocal shattering. And once they were said, there was no doubt in his head. She didn’t want him to leave. He had that power in his hands. And like a fool, sitting on his throne, he abused it. One time too many. Regret did not follow him as he left. The road he walked was a broken one. Trailing through the thickets of Elwynn and vainly trying to seek civilization. The wild was not a path that Gillego was unfamiliar with. It was his only home, in some regards, ever since the Legion destroyed the World Tree. Comfort is now a foreign feeling in these trees and trails, as he realizes what he left behind him. The forest that he thought he knew became hostile. He didn’t want to stay. The only guidance he could find was the Moon. The pale, unforgiving force that had driven his people for millennia. The white, bald terror that watched as sentinels shed the blood of invaders, priestesses shed their lives in devotion, and did nothing as the people that revered it burned. Vanta-black eyes gaze up to meet the almighty presence above. He is rendered small by it. ‘You wanted to leave.’ The druid does not shake the voice that crawls along his head. It is one that had existed for many years, and only made manifest as the stakes grew high. Higher than he could ever possibly imagine. A small, selfish head like his could only barely comprehend the complex web he had woven. ‘You need to earn the privilege.’

Glaring, white feature burns into his skin. As vain as he tries to break free from its control he cannot. He is subjected to it. He gave up part of his life willingly, so that he could march against the ever-rising threats of the Kaldorei empire. This was what it meant to become Night Warrior. No comfort, no joy. Only retribution to be wrought by whoever was foolish enough to approach the xenophobic night elves.

Deep down, a little voice inside of him is fighting. It wants him to turn around at that moment, and face his reality with open arms. There was no other road to recovery than there. But try as this voice might, it is drowned out by the gnawing pincers of doubt. The scratching, terrible sensation that has afflicted his head for so long. He staggers into Goldshire now. The world around him is a haze. All he can tell is the upright forms that approach him, or maybe he approached them? Several months ago he first encountered her. Emilia Atrides. At a fancy gathering for her and her friends, the Collective had descended and made plans to capture her. Plagues were conjured forth to frighten off guard and party-goer. In the middle of a swarm he stood, approached Emilia quietly, and then took her to the Breach. That is when the first seed of doubt was planted in himself. Then came the night that he admitted his feelings to Rajani. The captain Marvalina was the only one to bare witness to this loud exaltation. And even as the world heard the pair of them, he could not help but smile. In all his life she was the only thing that was pure and good. In memories now, he imagines her with a halo of holy light around her head. The jewel of Ahn’qiraj that had somehow fallen into his lap. The jewel that he would tarnish with his unnatural appetites.

He stood outside the shed where he was keeping the Atrides girl to himself. He knew why she was there, even as he feigned obsession and care. He despised the very nature of humanity, and saw its worst face reflected on her. A face of a sycophant indifferent to the plights of its people. A mask that indulges in whatever it may like without repercussion or forethought. A reflection that struck a disgusting similarity to the Highborne who he had heard of in stories.

The clawing in his mind becomes unbearable when he stares too long upon her. As she bites and curses, when she swears and sorrows. It is a display that only evokes rejection from him. A feeling that is too complex for him to display, even to those he keeps in confidence. “You know why you were there.”

His goal then with her was not to torture her. Or to assault her, as weaker men before him could. He wanted her to be healthy. The prime of her life, assisted by whatever druidic or alchemical concoction he could produce. The game he was to play would be too insidious even for the lowest.  Gillego wanted to break her. Not bend her, or torture her, or defile her. He wanted to watch her wither and snap. Brought down lower than him, to the scale of an animal. That could have kept his conscious clear. He knew it would not be that easy to cover up such a mistake. He was ill-prepared, and the Breach had always an eye floating nearby. She served too great of a purpose for them then, as she was. He had to let his hatred rest. The recruiting sergeant does not question the vitality of Gillego as he signs up. He was an infantryman when this war began, but a cannon shot to one of his legs had let him go home early and with some paid leave. But the wheel always turns around again, to meet those who traveled along its spoke once. He had more than a depth to the human kingdom to repay. His true love, his pure love, had wanted him to change. Not for herself or for the company they kept. But for him. “You’re not a good person, Gillego.”

The steamer was packed with bright-eyed recruits. The war on Kalimdor had been fueled primarily by the Night Elves, but with a few incursions from the races they were allied with assisted in securing the woods. The gnomes, dwarves, men, and draenei he met were all prepared to die for a greater good. That was what Gillego was disillusioned by when Darnassus burned. The Moon watched as her faithful burned. And now, to clean up the mess caused by inaction, she rests black in the sky over Darkshore. Many more elves will see the Well where the High Preistess forsook the souls of her people. And many more lives will be lost trying to secure it.

As the cruel night passed over head, Gillego could not help but to cry. His wounds would heal in time. The scars he gained this time around would be well-earned. But his penance had only  just begun.

[druid-of-the-swarm]

Centipedes

The Bloodsport Brawl had always been something of a fascination to Gillego. Before he was Collective he witnessed a handful of them, and firsthand got to view what the Alliance did in their spare time. He saw the best of people and the worst of them. He saw the boastful brought low, the meek rendered moot, and characters bigger than the hostess of the event. Tonight he was watching over a batch of souls that would fight for the 22nd Bloodsport. Surrounded now by friends and acquaintances, Gillego had a certain security in his persona. He yelled at the competitors. He screamed at the crowd. They screamed back, they responded positively. It was the best fun he had since the War began. The icing on this cake was the lover he had found in the a’qir Rajani. As the second rounds began to get on, Gillego felt a scratching at the back of his head. It was a sensation that he had felt before and thought little of. But tonight, for some reason he did not know, it was much stronger. He fought between it and moderating at times, but he would not let it be shown. He had to keep up the facade. How else was the crowd going to know who was winning? Months ago, Gillego performed an experiment. Studying the forms of animals that druids took most often, he tried to deduce possible forms. It started off with common creatures. The difference between the form of the seal and that of the orca were not too far off. Neither was the shape of the raven or the storm owl. Further still, thanks to the rising of Zandalari, the form of bear was eerily similar to that of the ankylodon. From these shapes Gillego tried to make sense of new, drastic forms. The forms of insects. The first time he tried to take form he became something of a soldier bug from an aqir hive. This was excruciatingly painful for obvious reasons, as the form needed him to be compressed into a new shell. He would not attempt any other insect forms from that point forward. But the sound that the form made came back occasionally. It was a gnawing sound. It buried inside of him, and then through the tunnels it made began screaming. The sound was quiet once. Tonight it was loud. The Bloodsport Brawl went off without a hitch. His duty was done, and the after-brawl banter was well earned. Jokes were made of his and Rajani’s relationship status. He threatened a Lightforged that had struck a nerve with him a few days prior. He met a wife of one, a wife he had presumed was imaginary. Things were looking to close just as they did ever night; Surrounded by friends and in high spirits. But they didn’t end that way. The night took a turn toward something darker. A path that made Gillego frightened, as he woke up a day later. Elenata and Rajani had gone on an adventure. Gillego was only mildly aware of it as it occurred, simply asking into his communication device about the ruckus he was hearing from the shared channel. The fruit of this expedition would be found deep within the bowels of the Breach where the Collective had made its home. Gillego had hives outside its walls once, lost now to a war with a third party. The treasure stolen by the pair would turn out to be a chunk of Mantid amber. And within the amber stood the visage of a bygone era of insectoid supremacy. A Paragon sealed away, for whatever purpose, and tucked within the catacombs of that dwarven castle. Understandably Gillego was upset. The Petalpaw family, whom was a staple within the Collective, would vehemently be opposed to anything of Mantid. Even the kunchong given to Gillego by a certain white-haired acolyte was pushing the boundaries. Just having this Paragon under the Breach risked the three of them facing punishment. Gillego had already lost his livelihood. He didn’t want to lose his love or the few hives he had left. The bickering ensued. And while that happened, the chittering sound returned to Gillego’s head. Louder. More hungry. Like a worm had literally burrowed up from his neck and was now taking a ride up his spine. It made him think odd. The mantid inside of the amber called to him. Not consciously, of course. The argument on what to do with it made him gravitate toward it. If only to drown out the sound of the chittering. He tapped into what he understood of the language shared by the a’qir and insects around them, and did his best to ease the nerves of the mantid. To his surprise it was more fearful than he was. Even as he remained calm, he couldn’t help but to feel something biting at him now. His back and shoulders began to split and crack apart. Chitinous plates were growing. The chittering was getting to him. And it came to a head as Rajani set her eyes on slaying the mantid. Gillego’s concentration was broken by this, and that risked his mind. He found himself screaming at her then. A part of him didn’t want to yell, or even fight with the qiraji. That part was suppressed. The chittering swarm that was inside of him now sought to spill out and find an excuse to begin building its own nest. The shape he took was that of the centipede. The next few moments were a blur. He lost control of his body as the swarm took control. It fought against Rajani, and she lost her composure as well. Their fight was brief. It frightened Elenata into backing away, hiding even. Compound eyes and lashing pincers would join the chorus of the fray. The druid inside fought against the hard prison that was his body now, only breaking through near the climax of the fight. With his own strength he threw Rajani behind himself. He collapsed. He began to fall apart. The Paragon would be free from their prison. In an unconscious sleep Gillego tried to make sense of what had just happened. He spoke to himself at lengths, seeking some kind of reason to why he let the insect take over. Maybe it was punishment for his disregard for the Gods? Or maybe it was Elune’s own punishment, for he was a Night Warrior that wasn’t fighting as hard as the rest. Or maybe it was a byproduct of the trauma still rolling in his head from Teldrassil. Maybe it was his own device. He wanted an escape. To hide in the dark, and under the remains of the life he had once. A day passed before he woke again. In the privacy of their resting chamber, Gillego repented for himself. For Rajani’s safety and his own. He did not know how he would repent, or to even prove his devotion to the Gods, but he was sure of one thing. He would not stand to let himself endure the centipede any longer.

[druid-of-the-swarm]

I ask myself every day what right in hell a woman like me has to be a wife to a beautiful woman and mother to a beautiful girl. I don’t deserve either of these things, let alone both. I wish I could say I have it figured out. I don’t. But I’ve stopped trying to justify it or qualify it against my losses and my sins. And I have many. We’ve [all] lost, but in my case most of my losses I caused. It’s all on me to blame. But people still need me here. My wife, my child, this Collective. So what if I’m not worth any of it? I’ll still be here. People need me more then I need to give up.

Nayleen (via blood-for-sport)

[druid-of-the-swarm]

Nightmares

It had been three days since Gillego attended the raid on the Atrides art showcase. With the aid of other agents, the mission was an overall success. Horror and laughs were had at the expense of the medium to upperclass who’d come to grovel at the feat of the Atrides family. The Mistress was pleased with the results and the capture of two Atrides.

It had been one day since the monthly Bloodsport Brawl. The one that not only did Gillego volunteer for, but one where his love Rajani had fought in. Fought until the very end, the second finalist in the entire event. A Demon Hunter was all who could best Rajani in the fight, and she was forced into involuntary topor from exhaustion. She was carried into privacy to allow her illusions to fade and for her true form to be revealed.

As she slept, Gillego made the mistake of dropping the charm tucked beneath her shawl that kept her nightmares at bay.

He knew where he had hidden it, though. He walked away with it that night. The reason was to continue to tap into the image that he saw. It did not confuse him, the thoughts of the insectoid woman. The clarity of the image embedded into the wicked runes were what concerned him. The ferocity of the voice of the huntress, the limp priestess trying to persuade her not to find Rajani. He could not shake the feeling that he had experienced this all before.

He could have sworn he had seen that face before somewhere.

In his hive he toils away with Emilia. Fed a reasonable diet over the last few days to recover, he had been preparing her for the Mistress to toy with. Readying the scraps before the meat had even been stripped from the bone.

Preparing Emilia had been a hard one. When she recovered from her initial shock at the event, her anger and pride were clear to see. The bees stopped bothering with her the first day in with her thrashing and fighting. Twice had she even had the audacity to bite Gillego as he dressed her hair. Two mistakes she did not learn from even when the bite of the swarm became involved. But despite these drawbacks he would continue to work until she was an appropriate morsel for Masnira to consume.

Her hair had been dyed a light brunette. Her dress was the finest that Gillego could find on short notice. Her makeup was done by a skillful hand, full lipstick and eyeshadow applied despite the sneering maiden who had to wear it. A yellow ribbon to tie her hair back. Shoes with one buckle across to hold them still. Stockings put on by the lady herself, Gillego could not touch another woman with his lover’s scent still in his nose. A pilfered powder puff adds one last layer of complexity to Emilia before the binding of foliage is removed from her ankle.

She’s the perfect image of a woman should be respected.

Gillego ushers her into the Breach’s holding block properly then. He binds her hands together with rope to keep herself from destroying her garments entirely. It was not her colors, after all, all those pale peaches and ghastly yellows. Clashing with the creature that he had still coveted deep inside. If there was anything left to dress after the Mistress had her talk, the druid would be quick to pick it up. His own uses for Emilia exceeded simple dress up. And he knew just the woman who would be exalted to have another disguise in her possession.

As Emilia is carried off by Dark Irons to an uncertain future, Gillego removes the dreamcatcher from his vest. The Drust runes upon it reflect the black-blue magic that they commanded in ancient times. Revitalized by a certain agent within Coldwall who still freely practiced their trade. Another secret that he could take advantage of, should he ever feel the need to.

He reviews the image left in the dreamcatcher again once he is back within his hive. He watches it several times over, taking note of whatever Rajani could have formulated in her vision. Colors, sounds, contours, features. Things that a person needs when they are profiling collateral. Potential prospects for a sinister plot.

He may return the dreamcatcher when he no longer needs it.

[druid-of-the-swarm]

Bystander

The set up for the hive located within the Breach had changed drastically since Rajani had originally broken free from the tool shed used in lieu of artificial hives. A new hub was created from the wreckage of the shed and several hives now decorated around the building. Kept against a smooth incline of mountain, the hives would be safe from most naturally occurring disturbances such as wind and rain.

The walk to the Hive was not an incredibly long one. The wild growths of marigolds and lilies had become more and more useful as the months of harvesting had gone on, despite the winter that was already in motion. Some magic from his teachers assured that Gillego could keep his bees collecting even in the off-seasons.

The most recent mission had seen him summon his Swarm. It had seen him use it against innocent people. Stoking fear and fright, and he could see it all. He can still recall the faces of those poor people who had come just to visit a wealthy family for the evening, now forever tainted by a nightmare. He took some joy in it. But that was before he had encountered Emilia Atrides.

She was laid out as if her funeral was to come to pass. Draped in her ruined dress with her hair still half-done for the night that should have been special. All over her body were little red dots, the markers of bites and stings that Gillego had forced her to endure. Her breathing was ragged from the cocktail of chemicals that had been pumped into her.

She looked so peaceful laid out like that.

The druid reached for a jar of royal jelly. Carefully, without gloves, he would smear this mixture across her body. The tincture would sink into her skin and dry it out. Prayers and whispers to the Wild Gods would see the bites shrink in size. Gillego would repeat this process over and over, until Emilia had returned to her pristine beauty. A skin-deep beauty. One that Gillego could not shake.

A binding of earthroot would be compelled to wrap itself around Emilia’s ankle, twisting several times around to secure her in place. Gillego left the woman in her uneasy dream, his heart pounding in his chest. The vines that were already around the shed would stiffen now, twisting tightly and ensuring that no way out could be done from within or without.

“Report.”

Gillego whispered lowly into his communicator.

“Astrides condition is unstable. Placing her under quarantine until further notice. Will keep notes posted around relative offices.”

Slowly his lids came over his eyes, and he would part the twisted brier to allow himself back into the shed. Where his new idolatry rested, purified by the wild god he had envisioned in his swarming.

“It is unfortunate. She may have to stay out here for more than a few days.”

Silence overwhelmed the channel as Gillego clicked off. From within the shed, the only sound heard would be the buzzing of bees.

[druid-of-the-swarm]

MAD MAD MAD

[druid-of-the-swarm]

Admittance.

He finally said it.

He said it aloud, in the harbor of Stormwind City.

In front of who knows how many people.

But finally, he said it.

Gillego’s head would be all a buzz as he reflected on the events of the evening. Several weeks he had been nurturing the source of his infatuation. Weeks burned and spent trying to mold her into a direction away from the life that had damned so many thousands before her. Weeks spent being careful not for her to become dependent upon him and his interpretation of the world and this new society she was submerged it. Weeks burned to ensure that she would be equipped to make these decisions for herself.

The druid would let out a deep sigh as he stirred within the antechamber of his hive-shelter. All around him were the midnight sounds of the hive’s workforce in topor.

The sound was what calmed him down most when he had thoughts like these. The hive was a sanctuary in of itself; Gillego had spent so many years within the dream just listening to the sound. Even outside the dream he imagined he could still hear the spirits of the minuscule, both living and deceased. The only sensation that he lacked within the Dream was that of stray honey that coated the floor. It was this sticky sap that woke him fully and encouraged him to reflect.

The hive itself was a passion project. The source of his worries and his elation had created it for his swarm. He had only seen it hours before, but already it felt like home.

What made it so homely were the claw marks in the ground.

Tenderly his fingers would press against the reliefs in the dirt where she had carved into the ground. The geometry, the very design of this place was not what he would have done himself. It is not something that the bees he coveted would do, as well. But that is what he adored so much. The fact that it was so alien to him. Strange to his insects, whom took the space and ran with it. The hive was growing and strong because of this place. Because of how she had carved it.

“Rajani.” His voice was quiet, more of a mewl than something that ought to be spoke aloud.

Gillego turned onto his back then. Though somewhat out of the way, he could see a faint seam of light through the main entrance of the miniature den. The black of his eyes caught the light and held onto it, absorbing the glow of Elune as a reminder of the blessing he now had to endure. The light was cold and it stung.

In the distance he could hear her singing. It was a high-pitched sound that was more common in tropical regions like Stranglethorn or in the crater of Un’Goro. The sound was like a lullaby to the druid, who now turned from the light of the moon and back into the safety of the hive.

Topor was new to him. But, it was easy to fall into. He knew that she would be back again soon.

[druid-of-the-swarm]

Inhibitions

ɢɪғ sᴏᴜʀᴄᴇ

Rajani was born into this world to be a weapon. The Prophets might have given their people, her people, much more purpose than that, but the one true factor underlying all of the Fallen Ones was that they were made to serve.

All of them.

All of them only fit to be used as pawns against their master’s enemies, and toyed with when He saw fit.

Back then, they were all glad to serve.

As far as Rajani had known, all of them were glad, too, to die as servants.

All of them, except for her.

Keep reading

[druid-of-the-swarm]

“Man, do I hate spiders.”

Zoology Study: Azerothian Spiders

With Hallow’s End just creeping upon us I thought why not search out some of the most fearsome beasts and critters Azeroth has to offer. And what better one to start with than probably the most phobia inducing there is. That’s right this journal entry will be on no other than the Azerothian Spider. For this one, I traveled to such places as Trisifal Glades, Duskwood, The Plaguelands, and even faced my own fears by venturing into a few caves in order to complete this research. Because for science of course! 

A spider is an arthropod. Otherwise known as an invertebrate with an exoskeleton, segmented body, and jointed appendages. Hence, they fall in the same family as crabs and scorpids. They continue a pair of venom filled chelicerae (or mouth-parts) with sharp fangs.  Not only this, but these come in a variety of sizes; from about hand sized (like the the fruit favoring Amethyst spiders of Krasarang) to a staggering 15 feet in diameter (as in the spider loa herself, Shadra). The larger spiders have been known to be a product of being enhanced corrupted magic.Spiders belong to the arachnida class, mostly because of their 8 legs and a pair of pedipalps near the head. The pedipalps are sensitive chemical detectors and function as taste and smell organs.

As I just mentioned, spiders have a total of 8 legs. However, the lack an extensor muscles and instead really on using the fluid in their body to move their legs through hydraulic pressure. Their segmented bodies and limbs are covered in a cuticle made of chitin and protein. Unlike insects, a spider’s thorax and head seems to be completely fused together. This joined part is known as the prosoma. The rear area of the spider is known as the abdomen All of these parts make up this creature’s tagma.

There are several types of spiders throughout both planets. Common in areas such as Ashenvale, you have your large as a dog Forest Spiders. These spiders tend to mobile people, however they will attack helpless smaller animals as prey, usually feeding on local deer or birds. They range in colors from a striking green to a light grey. These type of spiders are similar to other harry, tarantula species.

Venom Spiders are about the size of a human. Poisonous fluid coats its pair of mandibles and they have multiple eyes. These creatures dwell in haunted woods where they tend to stalk unsuspecting prey. A colony of Venom spiders are known to gang up on prey and drive them into potential web traps.

Fire Spiders while native to the Firelands and rare parts of Pandaria have been found in Talador. They bite, they spin webs, they spit burning venom, and they capture people in cocoons of searing silk. Other types tend to be undead Bone Spiders and Crystal Spiders. The legs of the ladder if remained unbroken when killed are known to be great conductors.

It has been said that spiders seem to derive their roots from the ancient kingdom of Azjol-Nerub. However the large wild spiders don’t seem to be ‘evil’, but instead become fearsome opponents when their nests are defiled. In fact, even the Forsaken have developed a kinship with spiders. They are used as sentries, pets and companions.

There has been a new sort of species of spider classified to be Demon Spiders. These ones seem to be connected with the Aranasi demons, indicating they are merely spiderlings under the care of a broodmother. The smaller spiders seem to grow into much larger ones, then at a later time morph into a half spider, half humanoid creature. And thus concludes my entry for now. Til then, fellow researchers.

[druid-of-the-swarm]

Bug workout

[druid-of-the-swarm]