The Bee Dungeon

It was a peaceful day in the forest around Belissar’s Tower. The sun was shining, the bees were buzzing, and there was even a bird singing. A newcomer who had recently flown in.

But then, the ground began to rumble, and group of bushes began to rustle. A moment later, the ground burst open, overturning the bushes above. A dark hole opened up in the forest, leading to parts unknown...

With the soldier bee’s help, Belissar was able to finish his work sooner than expected. A simple strip of rough linen cloth, not exactly anything anyone would want, but enough to patch up his tunic.

Belissar subsequently did what would have been the smart thing to start with and made some tools for flax processing. Coarse rakes and combs to help separate out the seeds and other material, a board and a wooden implement he could use to scutch, and anything else he could think of that might make the process easier.

Doing so used up a bit of his available wood, so the next day he headed out into the forest to gather some more. He was just chopping a small tree when Niobee began buzzing around him.

“King! Scouts say something coming!”

Belissar’s eyes narrowed.

“It is the Hunger again?”

“No, different!”

“Do they mean like a bird?”

Niobee repeated her same dance.

“Different!”

That had Belissar puzzled. The bird that had recently arrived was about the only thing he could think of besides the Hunger. After all, whatever it was, it had to have flown, for nothing could simply walk through the Hunger on the ground.

Right?

In any case, Belissar decided it would be best to act cautiously.

“Let’s head back to the Tower and prepare our defenses, just in case. Have the scouts keep an eye on it but let everyone outside know to run if it’s hostile.”

“Ok!”

With that, Belissar returned to the Tower. He didn’t know what was going on...but he knew that whatever it was, he wouldn’t let it take his bees...

Belissar stoked the campfire by the Apiary entrance once again, then grabbed hold of one of the torches. Meanwhile, the Flower Meadow queens were assembling their army in the sky above the gate to the outside world. Niobee finished dancing with some worker bees and then flew over to him.

“Scouts say approaching.”

Belissar furrowed his brow.

“Is it hostile?”

“No.”

Belissar rubbed his chin. The bees reported an animal of some kind, with lots of brown and black color, but he still didn’t have any idea of what it could be. But well, whatever it was, his Tower was ready.

Or so Belissar thought.

The gates of the Tower opened up. Belissar narrowed his eyes.

“Get ready...”

And then he gasped.

Challenger detected, enabling Remnants

Challengers Present: 1

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In walked...a person? A man, judging by the body shape and facial features.

He was tall, taller than anyone Belissar had ever seen, with the broad shoulders and thick arms and legs to match. His clothing was a combination of black leather and brown fur, with some light armor over their torso, waist, and upper limbs while the fur covered the extremities. He carried a short spear and a shield, both of which were made out of bone of some sort.

And then...Belissar’s eyes went wide as he focused in. He realized...the brown fur wasn’t clothing at all.

The man’s legs and arms were covered in thick, brown fur. His hands were a bit wider than normal, and his fingers were tipped with large claws. And while his face was human, his hair was more like a mane of fur combining with his beard.

And most surprising of all were the two bear ears popping out of the top of his head.

“It’s a...demi-human?”

The bear man looked up and narrowed his eyes at the soldier bee army arranged in the sky. He slowly lowered his weapons and relaxed his stance, though he still held them in his hands.

And then what happened next shocked Belissar to his very core.

“Peace, Sacred Den-Master. We mean you no harm, if you mean us none.”

The soldier bees swayed a bit in the air, unsure of what to do, but Belissar was in no state to command them. His jaw dropped.

Because...the demi-human had talked.

The bear-man turned to face the Shrine of Bees while keeping an eye on the army overhead. He bowed his head for a moment. Then he rested his spear against his shoulder and reached for his belt, taking a small pouch tied there. He opened the wax chest and placed the pouch inside.

“A gift, for you and your patron. I pray for peaceful and fruitful cooperation, Sacred Den-Master.”

He inclined his head once more towards the Shrine, which glowed softly in response, and then slowly backed out of the Tower.

Some words passed before Belissar’s eyes and Niobee was asking him something in a slow and shaky dance, but Belissar wasn’t paying attention.

Because the demi-human had talked. And that...went against everything Belissar had ever been taught.

For long ago, the wicked kings of old had defied the gods, and brought upon themselves great wrath. The Hunger consumed the land, destroying every vestige of their civilization and tearing down all they had built. But such was not the extent of the gods’ wrath, for the wicked kings were as cunning and cowardly as they were cruel. They abandoned their people to doom and fled alone, racing ahead of the death they rightfully deserved.

So, the gods cursed them. They grew bestial features and lost their humanity, in more ways than one. They lost their tongues, the means by which to communicate. They lost their ability to participate in society and became like beasts. But the gods were not so kind as to let them fall completely. They retained their spark, their intelligence, so that they might know what they had become and what they had lost. They were doomed to exist between worlds, never to be content with the life of a beast but lacking the means to live the life of a man.

Such was the tale of the demi-human, the cursed descendants of those wicked kings. A living warning against all who might defy the gods.

Or so Belissar had been taught, all his life.

And yet...here was a demi-human, the first he had ever seen. And said demi-human apparently could speak with no problems whatsoever. Even had clothes and weapons like a regular person would. Moreover, said demi-human had respected one of the gods, who had not smote him for daring to set foot in one of the sacred Towers. Nor had Belissar received any missions from his patron to that effect.

None of this recent turn of events made any sense to Belissar whatsoever.

He began to pace about, staring at the ground and groaning. He dropped his axe and his torch and rubbed his chin, then crossed his arms. He furrowed his brow and concentrated.

But think as he might, he could come up with no resolution for this quandary. It was confusing enough when he wasn’t smote for setting foot in a Tower back when he was a mere peasant, but a demi-human? Every story he had ever heard implied a demi-human wouldn’t be permitted anywhere near a Tower, much less to set foot inside of one. And yet one had, and the gods had not responded in any way.

No...that was wrong.

The God of Bees had responded...

Tribute received. Your patron grants you this portion:

- Cave Mushroom x3

- Cave Carrot x3

- Cave Potato x3

She had...accepted the demi-human's gift? Just like that?

Belissar sat on the ground, practically collapsing down on his backside. He held his head as his heart pounded in his chest.

A peasant like him becoming a Tower Lord was already unthinkable, but he could handle that. He figured that Niobee, as the Conduit or whatever, had interceded on his behalf to prevent the gods from smiting him outright. Then, he had proven himself capable enough in the second purification, and the gods had subsequently approved of him, making an exception for him since he was already in charge of the Tower. Those discrepancies could be explained away.

But this? This was not so simple. The demi-humans were intimately connected with the fall of the wicked kings of old and the Hunger itself. The tale was central to all others, the very reason the world was the way it was.

So, what would it mean if it were wrong?

If the demi-humans could speak and were not doomed to live as beasts...if the gods had no quarrel with them and no issues with their presence...then wouldn’t that mean Belissar was wrong about the origin of the Hunger and the intentions of the gods?

And if he was wrong about that...then wouldn’t he be wrong about...well, everything?

Belissar groaned. Whatever the case was, things had gotten a lot more complicated...

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