RuneScape:Wiki Post/Fan fiction/The Hive

The Hive (fan fiction)
Day 1 Unblocked the tunnel in the far south caves. Me, Pick, Junior and Brunson were sent into the tunnels while the rest of us wait outside to see the results of the initial prospecting. After all, we have no idea what those goblins could possibly be thinking right now. I heard a mention of some Dorgesh-Kaan while they fled up their crude ladders to the top of the chasm. Whether this is one of their barbaric leaders or some settlement I am unsure, but I feel confident with the rest of my team protecting my back.

Day 3 After expanding the narrow corridor (strange that such a thing should exist in what might as well be an abandoned or collapsed mine shaft), we found that the ground is mostly comprised of sandstone, which is absolutely no use to us. Who could possibly make any sort of structure out of a rock that crumbles in your very hands? Pick says he has seen some glimmers in the wall, but his flask is making a louder sloshing than the rest of ours. There’s some strange clicking sounds, as well. Must be the echolocation of bats. I wonder where they exit?

Day 4 The clicking grows louder, and Pick has come back from a deeper part of the ever-mysterious corridor raving about giant fleas coming to eat us all. We have been forced to subdue him and give him some rest for the remainder of the day. Or, at least what feels like day after waking up from a strictly regimented nap. I swear, the one use we may have for this sandstone is breaking it down for more accursed hour-glasses.

Day 5 The horror! The fleas are not fleas at all, but green, bulbous creatures with waving antennae and razor sharp mandibles! We were only saved by Brunson’s quick thinking to duck behind rubble while we take them out with our javelins. A cruder ranged weapon you could not find, but it was the best we could prepare from ax-handles and scrap iron. The monsters that we haven’t killed disappeared, but not before gobbling up the rest of our javelins and a good amount of our swords. Even after we asked for more from the backup team, we knew we would face shortages. I know Pick is not getting his intoxicated hands on my blade. Junior is very distressed by this whole affair. I wonder if we should send him back with the other team.

Day 6 The worst has happened. The tunnel connecting us with the rest of the team has collapsed, leaving us with no exit. The situation seems even more dire, and our fat packs of provisions are deflated. The only food source left is these tan larva pulsating across the floor. Tan as the sandstone, they are. Pick has been allowed to move around, and his mind has gone to war. He immediately decided to barricade our small encampment with the rock excavated from the first few days, and who was I to say no? I worry for Junior, who has lost all hope. The clicks of those monstrosities are growing louder, so we must make haste in our work.

Day 9 The fighting has taken its toll. We are out of food, and the only thing left is the flesh of the “fleas”. We have fought off most of the smaller ones, but we have quickly gone into hiding. Not even a sound has been made for at least the past 2 days as even larger ones have come by to defend their brethren. They are about the size than the size of four full grown men heaped together in a pile. Funny that I should make that comparison. That is how our lives have been in this cave for quite a while now.

Day 10 They got Brunson! He was dragged off in the monsters jaws, bleeding profusely. I doubt that he will survive, but we need to search for him. Junior is too unstable to bring along in the search, and Pick isn’t much of a fighter, but somewhere along the line he found the time to prepare some very nice traps that should put a stop to those monsters. I just hope they aren’t intelligent…

Day 11 Well, we retrieved him. I honestly don’t know if he will make it. He is sweating uncontrollably, as if he has a fever. He slips in and out of consciousness, refusing to eat or drink. This whole situation troubles me. They seemed to know our traps. As if they had observed the walls and supports and even knew their weak points. Even though they showed no sign of communication, they attacked the trap in unison in a desperate attempt to crush us. I can only hope that the rubble will stop them while we can tunnel out.

Day 13 Bad luck at its height. Our entry tunnel is un-clearable, with the rocks seemingly made of some sort of granite that our pickaxes cannot penetrate. But, the corridor…corridor…such a long time since I honestly called these tunnels that. I have no doubt in my mind now that this isn’t some coincidental curiosity or a dead mine, but a home. A hive of those creatures. But I digress. We seem to actually be in a U-shaped bend in the tunnel, with the one to our right leading ever deeper into the cavern system, and the one to our left ending in a dead-end. We have moved our supplies there, along with Brunson, who is beginning to recover from death’s doorstep. The dead end has a dome shape to its roof, indicating that it can be…and has been…the site of an attempted exit. Junior has stopped his fits of depression and sadness at this news, and I hope it will last.

Forgive me for a second entry in the same day, but the most curious thing was discovered! The roof above us wasn’t the ceiling of the tunnel, but a false one! Whoever bothered to go to such trouble to conceal the cylindrical shape must have had a great deal of time and materials. The roof seemed to be made out of paper and sticks that had rotted from age.

Day 15 After tunneling a small shaft, we have pierced to the surface. This would normally be a great discovery, except for one problem. As far as we can tell, the tunnel wall is unsuitable for carving some sort of ladder, and our rope is not long enough to be used as some sort of grapple, even if we had a hook to use it with. There is little or no hope for us now. There must be a way to penetrate that other tunnel! We will take it down, if it is the last thing I do.

Day 16 Pick is heavily injured, and is displaying symptoms similar to that of Brunson, who almost killed himself trying to fight off one of them. He got fed up and hurled a boulder at one, smashing its leg and forcing it to retreat. He showed intense bravery, facing down a creature of such monstrous size and power. We have formed a crude explosive with saltpeter and charcoal, and have planted it to the rubble blocking our way to freedom. The cavern seems to be shaking with anger, as if a giant is stomping its feet in rage. The tiny insects that we first encountered have completely disappeared, and I have seen flashes of a green creature bigger than the likes of any I have seen before. I doubt that we will make it through another night

This journal has been left hidden in this location because this story needs to be told. Told as a warning against curiosity. Even If I do escape, I will have no need for this item. To be frank, there is no way that any sane man could forget these memories. Junior seems to be going mad, using little bits of rope and sinew from the dead creatures combined with bones to create a grapple to escape. Even if he does get out of here, I doubt that his mind will remain intact. Saradomin save us all.

Wrathanet 03:23, November 11, 2009 (UTC)