Two days had passed since the enormous gastropod/direspawn Creeping Lust--for it now knew the name given it by its summoner--had been torn from its cage deep within the summoner's keep. As it traveled from the keep and through the swampland surrounding it, Creeping Lust began to learn about itself. Because during its journey to this plane, Creeping Lust had forgotten much.

It had discovered, quite by accident, that it could also consume meat--and reproduce at the same time.

Once having left the immediate perimeter of the keep, Creeping Lust had come upon a cluster of succulents. Its growing appetite having directed the direspawn to the moistly shimmering clump, Creeping Lust began to feed. Hidden within the fat, leafy folds lay a small furred creature, perhaps sleeping and unaware that its shelter was being eaten away. The creature came awake when Creeping Lust's probing radula caressed its belly, drawing the unfortunate animal into its denticle-rimmed mouth.

As the last of the creature was swallowed, Creeping Lust felt the animal's remains slide though its crop, on its way to its stomach. As Creeping Lust lazed through the digestion, its tentacles waving contentedly in half circles, it felt something divide and separate from the digesting carcass of its food. Creeping Lust did not realize--certainly, it had little capacity for conscious thought--that an element had split from its dinner was now traveling through the direspawn's own reproductive system.

Creeping Lust was about to birth its first young. And grow larger in the process.

The direspawn felt a blister begin to pucker and expand in the place where its coiled shell met the end of its long foot. Arching its slender neck backward, Creeping Lust aimed its eyestalks to get a better look at the proceedings. Suddenly the blister burst, splattering a viscous juice into the hot, humid air.

Creeping Lust watched as a grooved larvae writhed in a pool of the blister-fluid. Soon the larvae's casing began to split and a small winged creature wriggled from it. As soon as the small creature's wings touched the air, the wings began to dry, the drying hastened as the insect flapped its wings.

The small insect seemed not to notice its "mother/father" as it continued to dry its wings. Creeping Lust bent its glistening head to its offspring, nudging it gently with the tip of its radula. The offspring finally glanced up at the direspawn who'd birthed it, affording its mother/father a full look at its progeny.

The twin clusters of its compound eyes, golden as sunflowers, gazed up at Creeping Lust from a shiny, black triangular head, while curved mandibles clicked around its sinewy mouthparts. Something buried deep in its memory told Creeping Lust that its offspring would always look this way. For its "children" would never have the look of a gastropod--and Creeping Lust was just beginning to understand, in its own simple way, to what class it belonged. Creeping Lust would have to find another of its kind in order to produce one just like itself.

But this did not concern Creeping Lust as it gazed, eyestalks waving excitedly, at this small creature. The direspawn liked the look of the small creature: the sleek dark of its bullet-shaped thorax, the abdomen plumply curving into a slim stinger dripping with poison. Creeping Lust determined that it would produce more of these...

Envies. The word arose from that deep place in Creeping Lust's memory, and once again, the direspawn was grateful for the information.

Soon a soft buzzing began as the envie's wings finally became dry enough for flight. Before long the small creature was hovering above its parent, waiting for the larger creature to begin moving.

Suddenly another small furred creature, much like the one consumed by Creeping Lust, ran from the cover of foliage. The envie fell into a quick dive, spearing the creature deeply with its poisoned stinger. When the animal's writhing had ceased, the envie inserted into the creature's back a long, thin rod which it had extruded from its mouthparts.

Creeping Lust watched as the envie satiated its hunger, drawing so much fluid from the unfortunate creature that when the envie was done, left the animal nothing more than a dry, fur-bristled husk.

Something else had happened. The envie had grown twice its birth size.

Creeping Lust would have to produce more envies. Reproduction would be its mission and its purpose since the summoner had given it no instructions. Was that not the way of all creatures of its kind?

###

Now two days gone from the Grip, its own bulk significantly increased as it fed along the way, Creeping Lust still continued to undulate through the countryside. Overhead, a swarm of envies flew, the sound of their wings drumming the air as they too searched for food.

Creeping Lust had been lucky. Since leaving the Grip it had encountered a wide variety of creatures: most walking on four legs--but some walking upon only two. The two legged creatures looked much like the summoner, and at first, because of the resemblance, Creeping Lust was reluctant to consume/mate with them. But when they came at it with weapons brandished, Creeping Lust, who had now grown nearly as large as the dwellings it passed, hefted its bulk upon the two-legged ones, consuming and mating with them. Those that escaped Creeping Lust's slimy grasp were overtaken by the envie swarm.

Creeping Lust found that the two legged creatures produced the best envies: ones that were much larger at birth. And though the pain of their births was greater, Creeping Lust still sought the two legged creatures, which, it discovered, were called "humans." So while Creeping Lust feasted upon the humans, it sent its swarm of envies to feed upon the humans' animals--and the occasional human when Creeping Lust could consume/mate no more of them.

Now some of Creeping Lust's older envies were striking out on their own--but the direspawn would not miss them. Surely, there were more envies to take their place and when those were ready, Creeping Lust knew that they, too, would leave.

There seemed an endless supply of food and mating material in the humans and so Creeping Lust feasted upon their fear as well.

And birthed more envies.

###

"In one week," Lord Vaukmond, Duke of Windemere, muttered to himself, "the lands are buried in early snow, and in the next the weather is normal for this time of season." And in a matter of a few days another marauding creature seems to have taken the other's place.

Lord Vaukmond, too restless to sit upon his throne and having banished his nervously indulgent footman to another section of Honor's Start, stood up as he clutched his great war ax at his side. He had just received word only two days hence that another creature--a direspawn different than the first, he'd been told--had begun a murderous rampage through the lands.

Hoping that the new creature would be easier to slay, Lord Vaukmond had sent troops out to meet it. As with encountering the first beast, this new creature laid waste to his troops as thoroughly as the first one had. Precious few of his men had returned--and many feverish after having been stung by large wasps accompanying the new creature.

The only good news had been that the first creature seemed nowhere to be found. No small comfort, Lord Vaukmond thought sourly, when another has taken the first's place.

And worse, a swarm of wasps seemed headed toward Windemere.

And worse yet, still no word from Terjal Rakmir and the Duke's own Adjutant, Aiya Lindsmund--whose counsel he sorely missed. The last he'd heard from the two conjurers directly was several weeks ago when a dazed farmer-turned-brigand had wandered into Honor's Start with a message for the Duke from Terjal Rakmir. The message had been little more than a indictment of the Duke's handling of law and order. Lord Vaukmond's jaw ground in anger at the last line of the message: "...cannot afford to have the quest interrupted further by the lawless. Lord Vaukmond, you must maintain order..."

And had he the conjurer standing before him now, Lord Vaukmond might ask the Master of Cloudreach how he expected law and order to be managed with an army whose numbers were rapidly diminishing.

But Lord Vaukmond hadn't received any further messages directly from Terjal Rakmir, save for one delivered a week ago from the Outsiders. The messenger had made a point of reminding the Duke that Shel'han Nyjef was offering the message only as a courtesy to the spellweaver Rakmir, and not for any gratitude owed the Duke of Windemere by the Wanderers of the World. Lord Vaukmond had let that statement pass unchallenged, for it was partly true: the Outsiders received little aegis from Windemere, but in the Duke's defense, they were nomads and difficult to follow. And, of course, he eschewed informing the messenger of this last, for the Duke of Windemere did not make excuses publicly.

So Lord Vaukmond learned from the Outsider that Terjal and his band had met the bear-like direspawn once in battle and that they had suffered heavy wounds. And such was the extent of the message. Vaukmond knew that pieces of the message were missing, but having once been a soldier, understood the nature of second and third-hand messages: fragments of information were often lost as the message passed into too many hands and upon too many tongues.

Somehow, Vaukmond had to hope that Terjal Rakmir and Aiya Lindsmund would still be alive to battle this newest arrival.

###

"What do you mean," Lord Vaukmond growled at the Imperial ambassador standing before him, "the Imperium cannot spare a Sorcerer to Honor's Start!"

The ambassador seemed impassive and unintimidated by the Duke of Windemere's tirade. But Vaukmond noted with an inward smirk that being surrounded by a number of the Imperium's best warriors gave one a certain sense of security. "That is correct, Your Grace," the man said simply, and made a half bow as if ready to take his leave.

"What you mean, really," Vaukmond roared, taking delight as the ambassador snapped upright in surprise, "is that the Empress Perseldeth wishes to keep as many Court Sorcerers around her should the direspawn and its flying army storm the Imperial palace. And be damned with Windemere and even Quitonne, I suppose!"

"You may interpret the Empress's decision in any way that you wish, Your Grace, but the answer will remain as it was given you."

Suddenly a deafening hum began to tremble the walls of Honor's Start. A frantic courtier ran into the throne room, nearly slipping upon the tiles in his haste. "Your Grace, the flying creatures--they've breached the walls of Honor's Start!"

Although it was bad news, Vaukmond grinned at the Imperial Ambassador. "I'll wager you wish now that the Empress had granted my wish of a sorcerer, since your own escape will be so delayed."

The ambassador, Vaukmond noted, looked suitably frightened.

###

Covered head to toe in armor and mail, Lord Vaukmond took up his great war ax and his favorite broadsword and met his swarm of enemies with zeal. Now he had only a smattering of his troops left and the contingent of Imperial warriors to help him, yet he felt he could battle the demented, hellish beasts himself.

The Imperial ambassador had been the first to perish as the wasps, the size of large dogs, gained entry to Honor's Pavilion. Lord Vaukmond watched as two wasps sank their slender stingers into the man, drawing his life fluids from him until he resembled nothing more than a large, wrinkled square of chalk.

The Duke launched at the wasps as they withdrew their stingers and mandibles from the doomed man. In one flowing movement he brought his war ax down upon one and sliced at the other with his broadsword. Soon he was slashing both weapons to and fro as more of the beasts circled round his head, discouraged by his armor and mail. Lord Vaukmond heard the click of carapace against metal as the wasps tried to reach his face through the curtain of mail hanging from the coif of his helm.

Vaukmond laughed as several insects' stingers slid off the metal when he turned his head from side to side, slicing one wasp through with his sword and beheading another with his war ax.

As the courtiers lay curled and cowering under cabinets and what other shelter they could find, Lord Vaukmond and his brave warriors--and he counted the Imperial warriors among the brave as well--fought as one.

If anyone were to call me Weapon Master this day, thought the Duke of Windemere as he sent scores of wasps back to the hell from which they came, I would answer them well.

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