Bug World

A product of /tg/.
 Bug World

W
hat is Bug World? Bug World is a realm where Most financial transactions are carried out by The Golden
insects, crustacean and other arthropods rule Antenna, the main guild of bankers where financial
in lieu of regular mammals. These bug-folk transactions is maintained by Book-scorpions who relish the
have have formed complex civilisations, complex organisations and Flies and Roach clerks who find
cultures and mythology and have done so the management bureaucracy fascinating.
despite living in a world of astonishing
violence. Young bug-folk are warned with tales Agriculture
of monstrous flying beasts that see by sound, screaming Agriculture is gradually adapting itself from claw-milled flour
behemoths of bristling quills and legends of foul beings to the world of waterwheels and windmills. Industrious
crawling from the ocean to consume whole cities. Many a termites have found their hive-spires serving as excellent
foolhardy adventurer having scoffed at the warnings found in mounts for wind power while their carefully balanced
fairytales has met a grisly end at the beaks, claws and jaws of underground farms allow the harvesting of edible fungi.
such creatures of supposed myth. Termites were the first races to include fermentation rooms
to create mead and other alcoholic substances but it was the
Culture Grasshoppers who perfected the process.
The general technological level is broad, roughly comparable
from that of the Iron Age to the early Renaissance, with some
unique bug-related technologies adapted to varied anatomies.
Some species such as termites and crickets mastered the art
of metallurgy given their mining monopolies and expert
knowledge of ores. Mole Cricket run blacksmiths are often
found throughout Branch Towns and for the right price even
the largest Stag Beetle can be clad in steel. Flies monopolise
on the need for cheap
Finance & Currency
The universally accepted currency of the world is Gold
Amber Chips. These amber chips are minted from a specific
breed of tree, its amber a distinctive golden hue that almost
radiates when light is cast upon it. This species was evidently
common at some point in time but its decline has seen the
discovery of new, untapped mines as banking guilds number
one priority. This base currency is very rare and valuable and
its control is held by a number of governments and banking
guilds who regulate distribution. Rarer still is Blue Amber,
derived from a completely extinct tree species it is too
valuable to be turned into chips and is instead usually used as
part of precious jewellry.
Currency is further divided into less rare and darker
coloured ambers which, while still being uncommon came
from far more common tree species, are of less direct value
with Yellow, Orange and finally Red Amber Chips of lesser
value respectively. The ratio of each grade of currency is as
follows
10 Red Amber Chips = 1 Orange Amber Chip
10 Orange Amber Chips = 1 Yellow Amber Chip
10 Yellow Amber Chips = 1 Gold Amber Chip
It is not uncommon for bugs to attempt to ply regular
amber or alchemically formed amber to cheat honest
businessmen but a simple test is to shine a light through and
compare the colour and occlusion to the real stuff or an
official chart. While the Amber Chip system is universally
accepted, some areas of the world also accept direct trade in
bartering or rarer goods.

2
 Gunpowder
Weapons & Armor The secretive order of Bombardiers were the first to
understand the bizarre machinations of gunpowder but it is
Slashing Weapons the innovations of Flies that can be awarded the act of
Due to the ever present exoskeletons of most species, cutting spreading it to bugfolk. With the increased proclivity of
and slashing swords are an uncommon specialist weapons gunpowder weaponry and the cheapening of black powder as
mostly used by flying races during aerial combat where a a substance, devastating ballistic weapons such as stone-
quick slash to the wings can end a fight instantly. There are shrapnel mines, multibarrel fire-arrow throwers and bug-
also some schools of martial teaching that practice extremely portable rocketry are making an ever frequent appearance in
precise strikes with cutting swords to target joints in limbs regular bug society. Some groups have specialized in
and carapace plates.Heavy, cleaving swords are a common gunpowder weaponry and unique weapons such as the
sight in the hands of beetles and scorpions where the frightening screamer-guns favoured by the cicada panoplies
strength to wield such a blade lets them devastate an or the Infernal Tongue used by the fire bees are only the
opponent by removing limbs and smashing through carapace beginning of the potentials of gunpowder.
to the vulnerable insides.
Alchemy
Blunt Weapons With the advent of gunpowder, an increasing interest in
Bludgeoning and impact weapons are the most common exploring further chemical fields has spread to every nation
category by a wide margin. Maces, hammers, morningstars, giving rise to the science and Craft. Along with the legitimate
flails, picks, heavy axes and metal wrapped staves are practitioners, charlatans promising riches out of rocks have
ubiquitous in the same manner that swords are for us.The sprung up eager to fool citizens. Alchemy has proven to be a
ability to crack and shatter hard carapace while dealing double-edged sword, the creation of potent medicines and
damage with even glancing blows are invaluable. distillations from plant extracts being equally as common as
the destructive arts of black-powder and poisons, alchemists
trading both iin equal measure..
Piercing Weapons & Bows
Bows are focused less on range and more on sheer power
where the raw penetrating power punches through shell and
armour alike.For those races not strong enough to pull a
laminated full-bow or a massive great-bow, mechanical
crossbows are favoured, their incredible short range
penetration bringing even the mightiest beetle down with
accurately placed shots..
Spears & Polearms
These weapons have a somewhat different style of use in
Arthro-society with a focus on weight for penetration or
hooks and barbs for catching limbs and equipment. Weapons
like stilettos are favoured over edged daggers by those
wanting to remain unnoticed. Some races such as mosquitos
even specialise in piercing weapons, the fencing School of
Transfixion teaching expert pinning maneuvers.
Armor
Although many species have their own natural armor due to
their exoskeletons, its not unusual to augment this with
artificial armor as well. Since many of these insects molt
regularly over their lives, strong chitin is fairly abundant, and
is the most common material in armor-making. If the molted
chitin is too big to fit and be used as armor, it is ground up
and mixed with glue-like resin to produce a material called
Scutmeld. The Scutmeld is then shaped into whatever form is
desired. Scutmeld is not often used in the forging of weapons,
as it cannot hold an edge but sometimes large chunks are
turned into suitable ammunition for fragmentation devices.

3
 Ants
A
nts are the most populous race. They form
industrious hive civilizations which - as expert
builders and agriculturalists - become economic
powerhouses. They get on well with most every
race, particularly bees, and often invite others to
live within their hives.
Ants are known for their natural instinct for cooperation.
Alone, an ant is rather weak and insignificant. But even just
two ants working together become a force to be reckoned
with.
Ant nations form caste systems that determine their place
within the hive. After larvalhood, an ant will "graduate" to
caring for other larvae, and then to maintaining the inner hive
city, then to farming, defense or trade. The highest caste is
the nobility caste, who are born into their positions. These
ants take part in a complex social game between nations to
solidify relations and form new colonies.
Ants are one of the smallest races, being even shorter in
height than flies. Despite this they can carry immense
weights, which helps in mining and construction especially.
Life of the Hive
Biologically male ants are rare. They are born only into the
nobility caste as princes, and become a part of the courtship
process between ant nations. They spend their lives courting
foreign princesses in hopes of creating a hive of their own.
4
Unlike other nations, Ant hives name their countries after
their currently ruling Queen, whom they greatly revere. Each
ant has an empathic link with their queen. They feel their
queen's presence, mood and subtle guidance at every
moment, and vice-versa. The strength of this connection can
vary ant to ant, with select few even holding telepathic links
with their queen, with whom they can communicate to
directly. Their empathic link weakens the farther an ant is
from their queen, so an ant leaving their hive's territory is
uncommon - though not unheard of.
When ant ant loses their connection with their queen,
these ants become known as queenless. It's a difficult process
that some ants won't even survive. This can happen in two
ways. The first is when their antennae are damaged or
removed - which can happen by accident, or as a part of their
punishment when an ant is exiled from their hive. The second
is if their queen dies. Ant queens can live for a few hundred
years. When queens die, one of the princesses will typically
assume control of the nation's resources and rename the
kingdom after herself. The last generation of a Queen's ants
will then become a Queenless generation. Those that survive
their grief will have the choice between continuing to live in
the new queen's rule or to strike out on their own. Queen
deaths are typically followed a sizable exodus of queenless
ants into surrounding areas, which can shift the economic
climate.
Though individual ants have their own unique and distinct
personalities, they are still affected by their queen's. Queens
can also still suffer from psychological illnesses that plague
common insects, which then influence the culture of her hive.
Though such cases are exceedingly rare, they are well
documented. The most commonly known instances are:
Queen Forliah, a paranoid queen who directed her hive to
slaughter every foreign insect within her walls in a single
night and then closed off their borders for over a hundred
years; Queen Nymth-Al-Yen, whose depression caused her
hive to grow apathetic and sullen, allowing the roach mobs
and fly guilds to bleed resources from the nation until the
queen's suicide some years later; and Queen Altaethix, whose
violent insanity drove her hive to brutally conquer all
surrounding ant nations until she was assassinated by one of
her princesses.
Adventuring
Ants found outside of their homelands will commonly be
found in crafting professions - most often professions
requiring some cooperation, such as carpentry or mining.
Though relatively few ants find themselves in more violent
professions, the sheer numbers of their populations mean
that ant adventurers aren't terribly uncommon. Typically
these souls are queenless ants, or ants looking to find
artifacts, resources, or glory for their homeland.
Ant Traits
Ability Score Increase. All ability scores increase by 1
Alignment.
Size. Ants are considered Small.
Speed. Your base walking speed is 25 feet.
Languages. You can speak, read, and write Trade Cant and
one of: the Desert Tongue, Imperial, Mantis, Moth Chant,
Butterfly Song, Spider Chatter.
Strong Back. You can carry immense amounts of weight.
You are never encumbered, so long as you can actually fit
what youre carrying to your back with straps, in bags, etc.
You count your Strength score as triple for the purpose of
pushing, dragging, and lifting.
Variant Ant
Instead of gaining +1 in all Ability Scores, you gain 2 points to
spend in any scores (either as +2 to a single score, or +1 to
two scores), and can take any one Feat for free
Quadromanus The character has 2 sets of arms, meaning
that it has 4 hands with which to manipulate. One single
hand is its dominant hand, the rest are treated as non
dominant. This means, however, that a bug character with
this trait can do a second physical action in its turn using its
other pair of hands as a free action, for example, wielding and
firing two crossbows, or wielding 4 swords and attacking
once with the first pair, and once with the second pair.
However, the character never adds their proficiency to rolls
made with the second set of arms, as if they were two
weapon fighting, unless the modifier is negative.
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 Beetles

T
he Beetles are not one species, rather many
disparate clans that span Arath. Each clan has
its own traditions and history. Despite these
differences, there are several things that unite
these clans. These clans have a strong warrior
tradition, and it is not uncommon to see these
large insects as travelling warriors.
Shelled Mother You have a natural armor bonus of +2 to
AC
Kehepris Fortitude When you are reduced to 0 hit points
but not killed outright, you can drop to 1 hitpoint instead. You
cant use this feature again until you finish a long rest
Quadromanus The character has 2 sets of arms, meaning
that it has 4 hands with which to manipulate. One single
hand is its dominant hand, the rest are treated as non
dominant. This means, however, that a bug character with
this trait can do a second physical action in its turn using its
other pair of hands as a free action, for example, wielding and
firing two crossbows, or wielding 4 swords and attacking
once with the first pair, and once with the second pair.
However, the character never adds their proficiency to rolls
made with the second set of arms, as if they were two
weapon fighting, unless the modifier is negative.

Culture
The Beetle Clans also share a single faith, worshipping the
Horned Father and Shelled Mother. Many Beetle-folk follow
the path of a Paladin, bringing the justice of the Father and
protection of the Mother to those without it. The last and
greatest unifier of these clans is the Beetle King. The Beetle
Kings trace their roots to Khepri, a great warrior-king who
united the Clans under his benevolent rule. King Khepri grew
old, his final wish was that his exoskeleton be removed and
forged into armor for his successor to wear. The Beetle Kings
have worn this nigh-indestructable armor into battle time and
time again, and to see the armor in battle is to see Khepri
himself protecting his people once more.

Beetle Traits
Ability Score Increase. Your Constitution increases by 2,
and your Strength by 1
Alignment.
Size. Beetles are considered Large.
Flight You have a flying speed of 15 feet. Your wingspan is
twice your height.
Speed. Your base walking speed is 25 feet.
Languages. You can speak, read, and write Trade Cant and
one of: the Desert Tongue, Imperial, Mantis, Moth Chant,
Butterfly Song, Spider Chatter.
Horned Father. Your hit point maximum increases by 2,
and it increases by 2 every time you gain a level

6
Webworms

T
he moth people are demure Magic users. These superstitions are not entirely unfounded, however.
Moon and dust worshippers with powers that Death's Head Moths have a strange and unexplainable
increase relative to the phases of the moon. In capability for Necromancy, innately skilled at animating
old age they fly off towards a bright light empty shells. Thanks to their reduced prosecution, and
considered a Nirvana-like final journey. Slow, wanting to move away from the connection to the Cicada
ritualistic magic favoured over showboating. cults, Death's Head Moths have been banding together in
Respects Butterflies but potential for religious founding and trying to legitimize a new school of magic, the
schism. Most Moths are Lunarian, though as a flying species, School of Necromancy. This new school is focused on death
a few living in the outskirts and mixed communities worship rituals, that call upon the memories of the deceased, and
Oznus. Some are hardcore racist to flies and others are just hexes that drain a foe's strength and weaken them. The ability
as bad but try to not talk about it. to animate empty shells is not forgotten, but is often used as a
Like moths, butterflies are an inherently magical race last resort, seeing it as a disrespectful practice. Typically, the
whose powers grow and shrink with the movement of the animated shells are connected to the memories of their last
Sun. Eager to impress others, butterfly magic is visually host. More than mindless slaves, these shells mimic their
stunning often incorporating astounding sound and light movements and act according to their habits.
ornamentation for even the smallest of feats. This inherent The fight against prejudice, coupled with the taboo practice
desire for show has made several butterfly thaumaturge of Necromancy makes life rough for the Death's Head Moths,
particularly famous, finding patronage for their wondrous but slowly they find their place in Moth society. Their
skills in many high court councils. professions range from street witches to historians to
investigators, their knack for the dead and gone a great boon
to their work.
Webworm Traits
Ability Score Increase.Your Intelligence increases by 2
Alignment.
Size. Webworms are considered medium.
Flight You have a flying speed of 30 feet. Your wingspan is
twice your height.
Speed. Your base walking speed is 30 feet.
Languages. You can speak, read, and write Trade Cant and
Moth or Butterfly
Nimble. You can move through the space of any creature
that is of a size larger than yours without provocing attack of
opportunity
Moth
For years, the word 'Necromancy' has been associated with
dangerous Cicada cults, crazed insects that spread decay and
fungal infection. But more recently, this word can be heard
among hushed whispers in Moth society. The best guarded
secret the Moths keep is the Death's Head, a strange,
spontaneous characteristic some Moths are born with very
rarely. Regarded as taboo, the most superstitious moths often
killed or abandoned these younglings upon birth, or upon
hearing of the birth of one, rallied for their banishment or
execution. Cities and more civilized settlements have been Ability Score Increase. Your Constitution increases by 1
moving away from these practices, but the taboo remains, the Dark Vision You have superior vision in dark and dim
Death's Head Moths often live alone and are victims of conditions. You can see in dim light within 60 feet of you as if
prejudice. it were bright light, and darkness as if it were dim light. You
cant discern color in darkness, only shades of grey.

7
 Butterfly
Butterflies are usually found only in small peer groups and
are often criticized by other races as vain and haughty due to
their hesitancy to interact with more common bugs. While
this stereotype has a grain of truth, many butterflies choose
to travel and learn about the world outside of their close knit
cliques.
The Monarchs have been the ruling family of butterfly
society for a few centuries now, but they exist as an
aristocracy, despite what the name implies. Petty, but
competent, they divide their time being apt rulers, and
unspoken rivals. Monarch Simona and Monarch Mirabelle
are vying for the right to rule the capital, in expectation of
their wizened father's death. To the public eye they are loving
sisters, but those in the know can tell their squabble over the
succession could turn ugly soon.
8
The Monarchblades, the overfunded butterfly elite guard, find
the use of most melee weapons barbaric with some officers
citing bladed weapons to be especially cruel, stating that they
would not wish a life without flight to their worst enemies.
The compunction against certain types of weaponry has lead
to only a small group being wield, mostly for
show.Regardless of the moral complaints, glaives and swords
have proven to be decisive weapons in the claws of flying
soldiers and so butterfly legionnaires are expected to be have
some skill with such weapons albeit with a focus on complex
artistic flourishes rather than basic technique.
Ability Score Increase. Your Charisma increases by 1
Cantrip You know the cantrip dancing light. Charisma is
your casting ability
Manti

M
uch like the Spiders with whom they've
found a strange friendship, the Mantis
race was once ostracized for their
predatory nature, but has since found
solace in their unique philosophy. Not
every mantis is a follower, but they all
adhere to the basic tenets of the
Learning, a philosophy and lifestyle that puts a focus on self-
discovery, particularly with regards to the nature of ones
instincts.
Manti Culture
Mantises live in small settlements, where they live away from
the troubles of politics and urban life. Not all are content with
the easy life though, and many travel the world to seek thrills,
or to satisfy their curiosity. More orthodox members of the
race would think them foolish, but quests for knowledge are
fully endorsed by the Learning. Mantis towns and settlements
are typically led by their spiritual guide, whom they call the
Master. Masters are those adepts of the Learning who have
selflessly dedicated their lives to the guidance of others.
Master is an honorific used by those seeking to learn from
him, and is not an official title in any form. Masters would
object to be called so by non-pupils, in fact, believing it to be
needless protocol, unnecessary for casual conversation.
Mantises are typically given to the pursuit of peaceful
activities, like arts and crafts, but the Learning is a philosophy
that avoids conflict, not violence. Masters are always talented
martial artists, and adepts are strongly encouraged to learn at
least basic self defense techniques, but it is rare for them to
content themselves with just the basics. Seeing it as a healthy
outlet for instinctual and destructive behavior, Mantises are
given to sparring, and some major conflicts have been
resolved by way of simple fistfights, although full-contact, or
armed duels are rare, and often seen as shameful activities
for all involved.
Mantis Triats
Ability Score Increase.Your Dexterity increases by 2
Alignment.
Size. Manti are considered medium.
Flight You have a flying speed of 30 feet. Your wingspan is
twice your height.
Speed. Your base walking speed is 30 feet.
Languages. You can speak, read, and write Trade Cant and
Mantis
Trance You dont need to sleep. Instead, you meditate
deeply, remaining semiconscious, for 4 hours a day. (The
Common word for such meditation is trance.) While
meditating, you can dream after a fashion; such dreams are
actually mental exercises that have become reflexive through
years of practice. After resting in this way, you gain the same
benefit that a human does from 8 hours of sleep.
Natural Weapon You are proficient with your unarmed
strikes, which deal 1d8 slashing damage on a hit.
Stoic Mantis
The Mantis has mastered the art of meditation. With the
mind at peace he can predict the enemy's movement and
execute a counter in a instant
Ability Score Increase Your wisdom increases by 1
Ancient Discipline When you roll a 1 on an attack roll,
saving throw, or ability check, you may choose to re-roll it.
Marauder Mantis
The Marauding Mantis combs through the desert searching
for the next opponent to test his skill. With vicious intent the
Mantis strikes its foes with deadly aim
Ability Score Increase Your Strength increases by 1
Merciless Onslaught When you score a critical hit in
melee, you can roll an additional damage die from the
equipped weapon and add the result to the total damage.

9
 Bees
B
ees are a generally industrious race of hive
builders. Their natural ability to forge perfect
hexagons grants them leeway to build
structures with far thinner and lighter
construction than any other group. Almost all
bees are birthed by the Ruling Hive Queens.
These matriarchs are revered as demi-gods of
motherhood by their subjects, something that is typically kept
quiet around other bugs, especially those of an openly
religious bent.
Bees hold a race-wide grudge against Hornets for the
ancestral raids of times past. This attitude is reinforced by
their Queens and royal family who have handed this enmity
down from mother to daughter, keeping the old hate
smouldering. Ancient ancestral evidence has put forward the
controversial notion that bees were once derived from a
homogenous empire of species, fragments of frescos
depicting both bees, hornets, wasps and other similar races
living together.
Bee Traits
Ability Score Increase.Your Intelligence increases by 2, and
Constitution increases by 1
Alignment.
Size. Bees are considered medium.
Speed Your Speed is 30 feet.
10
Flight You have a flying speed of 30 feet. Your wingspan is
your height.
Languages. You can speak, read, and write Trade Cant and
Mantis
Hive Resistance You have resistance to fire damage
Hive Vulnerability You have vulnerability to cold damage
Cantrip You have the ability to cast the cantrip Produce
Flame. Intelligence is your casting ability for it.
Culture
Any race or government, particularly Ants, with hive
tendencies finds it easy to get along with Bees due to the
common ground produced by empathic connections. Along
with this empathic connection, all Bees are capable of
vibrating their bodies at high speeds, which they use as a
method of simple communication to groups of other bees.
When sustained, bees can also greatly raise their own
temperature forming the root of their famous pyromancy
abilities. Though very energy intensive and noisy, the heat
generation allows any bee to become a potential pyromancer.
Although a rare occurrence, other bugs can learn pyromancy
but must first generate the heat necessary for starting the
spells by some other means. With the advent of Fly Alchemy
this has become easier than ever and more than one Hive
Queen has looked upon this with fear and anger.
Since Beehives are both monarchies and theocracies,
criminals are also branded as heretics when they break the
law. Except outsiders: they are considered regular criminals.
Spiders
F
or millennia, civilized bugs feared spiders and
with good reason; spiders hunted the wilds
where the roads would fade with disuse, and
knew no culture, living in solitary. They were
hostile to all creatures, cannibalistic in nature,
and worked on instinct alone. Big or small, even
a naked spider, without the primitive tools they
used to hunt, was deadly and best faced in company. All
civilizations conducted great efforts to drive them farther
away from their cities and towns, but two centuries ago, a
small group of mantis scholars decided on a different
direction, trying to apply their beliefs to these feral creatures.
Even among other scholars they faced stark skepticism,
mantiskind some of the most often affected by spider attacks
and encounters
With much effort, they managed to capture some of them,
and discovered joyfully that they were in fact capable of
conscious thought and of learning, and within a few
generations, this method managed to incorporate a wealth of
spiders to many civilizations. The reception varied, and
prejudice is common, but incidents are far and between, and
spiders are well on their way to a complete integration. This
is not to say that they have found their place in society easily.
While spiders are relatively common military members, many
are hard to discipline and seldom reach positions of authority
(and never in more prejudiced settlements). More peaceful
spiders find a lot of work as tailors, but with no shortage of
supply, only the most remarkable craftsmanship is rewarded,
most spider tailors are small time and live in relative poverty.
Spider trackers are prized, but are usually taken to the most
dangerous reaches of Arath, and while the pay is good, the
risky endeavors end with their lives eventually. Towns and
smaller settlements often employ them as hunters, where
they enjoy the full benefits of the community.
Spider Culture
Spiders have no real culture of their own and are accessory
to other species, their entire identity a recent development.
Their reception has been varied with mantis society being the
most tolerant, moth and butterfly society the most prejudiced,
and fly society being a special case where spiders enjoy
citizenship and find the industrious cities to have great
opportunities for work, while being even more marginalized
than in butterfly and moth society. They suffer no hunger, but
are usually forbidden from going outside, and their dwellings
must be specially marked, and often live in unofficial ghettos.
Once shunned and banished from Arthro society for their
predatory instincts, spiders have recently reintegrated into in
small communities as productive and valuable individuals.
While they are not known for their communal friendliness,
spiders can often be found providing essential building,
weaving and tracking services to the highest bidder. Spiders
have found allies with both mantis and scorpions, the mantis
showing via philosophy and meditation ways to curb their
basic instincts and the scorpions demonstrating the powers
of self-control. Some species of spider have devolved to their
predatory nature and are greatly feared.
Even today, feral spiders exist, and every year many spiders
abandon civilization to live in the wilds like the olden days,
disenchanted with their marginalized living, at least as many
as feral spiders are converted to civilization every day. The
efforts of the specialized schools of the Learning have been
doubled, but their work appears to be endless, and with
donations and funding decreasing as more question the need
for even more spiders to be integrated, this effort may
eventually cease completely.
Civilised spiders often demonstrate their nurturing side by
raising small frogs as pets, the excitable amphibians bred for
their protective nature and energetic disposition. They are
commonly given as companions to young spiderlings, the
frogs being highly protective of their charges will either begin
croaking loudly to attract the attention of the parent or launch
themselves at an assailant to buy their charge time to flee if
the Spiderlings are under threat. Some spider species such
as the Tarantula go so far as to specialise in frog rearing,
training their pets into powerful mounts for elite spider
dragoons.
11
Spider Traits
Ability Score Increase.Your Dexterity increases by 2, and Languages. You can speak, read, and write Trade Cant and
any other Ability increases by 1 Spider Chatter
Alignment. Poison Resilance You have resistance to poison damage
Size. Spiders are considered small. Natural Weapon You are proficient with your slashing
Speed Your Speed is 30 feet. strikes, which deal 1d6 poison damage
Naturally Stealthy You can attempt to hide even when you Web Weaver Once per short rest you can weave 1d6 * 5
are obscured only by a creature that is at least one size larger feet of spider rope
than you.
Religions

B
ug belief is incredibly varied and many a great
philosopher and alchemist has pondered on the
true origin of bugs as a whole. Nearly every race
has some form of origin myth or great epic.
The Golden Mound The idea that all bugs came from a
sacred cosmic frass-ball big ol' pile of bug poop. Golden
Mound followers poop in a box, and every week they bring
that box to the local temple to add it to a big communal frass-
ball.The frass-ball is burned and its ashes used as fertilizer at
the start of the Spring-Year. Widely worshiped by the
common bug, it is a humble, pacifist religion that is very
accepting, canonizing other deities.
The Divine Horn and Shell The belief in the Horned
husband and his Shelled wife. Commonly practiced by beetle-
folk. Some sects may believe that the Horned husband and
Shelled mother sired the first of various Beetle races, such as
the First Scarab, Xarinthik. These First Beetles are seen as
patron gods for each Beetle race. Devout Divine Horn and
Shell followers will often decorate their horns for males, and
paint their shells for females. This has lead to new fashions
even among non-religious populations.
The Lord of Sky Oznus, is one of the most commonly
worshiped Gods in the land of Arath. The majority of his
worshipers are predictably winged insects with Butterflies
being among the most numerous of his followers. Oznus is
commonly depicted as a butterfly or sometimes even a multi-
colored Roc, one of the beasts that fly high above, rarely
descending to the earth except to rear their chicks and feed.
The Winds are believed to be his voice and passions
unleashed upon the world. Everything from a gentle breeze
that cools a worker in a field to a gale that tears the branches
off the largest of Great-Trees. A common expression during a
cold wind at the change of the seasons is "Lord Oznus must
be sighing."
"Flight is freedom", is one of their core tenets, and a
worshiper that loses their wings is snubbed by their peers
and derisively pitied. Viewed as afflicted by the majority of
the clergy, there are charitable drives and collections held to
provide aid to these crippled few, condescension and
patronizing sentiment notwithstanding. There is however
those that pity them and work to provide aid to the crippled.
Another core part of their belief is the ascension of their
souls upon death to join Oznus as he soars eternally through
the skies. Most speak of how they become the stars or join
their families and loved ones in the paradise that the Sun is a
portal to. This ties in partially with the Lunarians belief that
at the end of their life mothfolk will go on a spiritual "fly-
about" and ascend to the heavens.
While not officially united both religions have close ties and
commonly find allies in each other when facing a dire threat.
Priests carry a shepherds hook shaped staff that carries a
prayer inscribed wind-chime. The Wind-Chime is considered
one of Oznus' holy symbols and the largest of his temples in
the upper-most branches of the Great-Trees have many of
them in a wide range of sizes on display. The slightest breeze
causing a symphony of bamboo, wood, metal, crystal, chitin,
bone, and any other material they could make. A common
practice is for pilgrims to craft a simple Wind-Chime from
materials gathered on their pilgrimage and give them to the
temples.
Lunarians The belief that bug-folk came from the moon
and that the moon-itself is a huge egg holding the physical
form of the moth lord of creation. Unsurprisingly believed by
moths but practitioners of similar magic often convert.
Lunarians make monthly pilgrimages to their temples for
every full moon. Solar eclipses are called 'Moon Days' and
their most important holidays revolve around it, overseen by
the current pope/popess (always a moth), organizing feasts,
magic shows, and parades for the event. Lunar eclipses are
the second most important where followers wear red.
Children also hunt for red balls and tell scary stories as
tradition.
The Matriarchal Devourer The belief that a tyrannical
God King created the world, but no life, then the blessed
Matriarch came and ate him and with that energy wove all
creation first giving birth to the spider race. The religious
leader of the Matriarchal Devourer is always female. Every
season, locals put on a play about their mythos. A male is
randomly selected to play the God King. In the past, the actor
was killed and consumed at the end of the play, but this
practice was eventually found abominable by other faiths and
changed.
Tales from Bug World
I forced my way through them, the thorny scrub tearing at
A Trilobite Secret me and my wings. I was too terrified to notice until much
By Trilobite Anon - later, too late for the scars to be healed. It took me a long
My name is Grex, and I will never fly again. I am a Moth week to return to Brenhow Log. It took me a month before I
Priest of the Moon and Dust. So, child, you want to hear could sleep soundly, without any nightmares. I hope nobody
about how I got this banged up? Well, my friends and I were has to go through what I did.
foolish enough to try and delve into a Trilobite ruin. Velnor,
our Rhino Beetle was a Warrior, bless his horn. There was
Ren'thik, a Mantis and our Rogue. Finally there was Wintha,
a Butterfly and a scholar-mage.
We set out after hearing rumors of a long forgotten
Trilobite city on the Great Coast, to the east. After a week of
travel, we had arrived. There were holes in the cliff face near
the water, and we waited until nightfall for the water to
retreat. We entered, lighting the way with my antennae,
channeling the Light of the Moon. We should have never
entered that cursed place. The first cavern we came to was
full of these terrible creatures, twisted in form and mind.
They were like the Locusts or Hornet's, but they had strange,
jagged metal points protruding from their limbs, and
mandibles sharper than thorns.
It took some intense fighting, but we were able to kill the
swarm with a well placed flamebolt from Wintha and some
muscle from Velnor. We continued through the chamber, until
we heard this wet tearing sound. It was Ren'thik who found
the source first. A clutch of eggs that those beasts had laid
were hatching. We were forced to kill the hatchlings, which
had started trying to swarm us as soon as they pulled free
from their eggshells.
Further in the caverns, we were ambushed by traps. These
traps though, they still make my wings quiver. They looked
like termite soldiers rooted into the rock and covered with
that same silvery substance the swarms had. It was difficult
to avoid the acidic glue in the right confines of the corridor.
Luckily we made it through. I was able to heal Velnor of his
burns, and we went on.
What we found was not treasure. It was not even artifacts.
It was an abomination, plain and simple.
It was a great serpent, scales of pure silver. Its fangs were
longer than Ren'thik was tall. We tried to flee, only to find that
the entrance was sealed off by webbing. The webbing was
still being spun by spiders. They too were twisted, with
growths on their heads, growths that looked almost like the
Mold, but they were not.
The serpent struck, and Wintha was swallowed whole by
the beast. With a furious cry, Velnor charged, only to be
crushed under the weight of the serpent's tail. Ren'thik tried
to claw through the webbing, but in his panic he only became
entangled. The spider beasts dragged him away.
I prayed to the moon for guidance, convinced I was about
to die. I think the moon was smiling on me that day, as I spied
an opening, far above. I flew faster than I ever have before,
somehow avoiding the serpent's Maw when it snapped at me.
I approached the Light when I saw it. The entrance was
covered with brambles.

A Grandfather's Lesson
by Anon
The young beetle lay in bed, nursing his cracked carapace.
He trembled with rage and shame, cursing big-beetle words
under his breath. He was in a sour mood. Another beetle
shuffled through the beads in the doorway and into the boy's
room. He was hunched and old, his carapace dented and
worn. He sat on the edge of the boy's cot, placed a patient
hand on his head and waited silently. The boy's head twitched
indignantly as his grandfather, holding his silence for several
moments before saying everything at once.
"It wasn't my fault! They started it! They insulted our family
and called them has-beens and I only wanted to uphold the
clan's honor! If they knew who you were they would never
have -"
"How many of them were there?" the old beetle said, his
voice cracked gravelly and frail.
"Three" the young beetle muttered
"And they were larger than you yes?" He nodded and his
grandfather flicked him below the horn.
"Silly boy, where has your wisdom gone?"
"I'm not afraid to lose a fight, grandfather." His eyes were
dark and defiant.
"Lose the fights you must lose, but pick your fights when
you are able."
"I won't be a coward." he stubbornly replied
"It's not about cowardice or bravery, it's about winning or
losing!"
"Fighting only the fights you can win is cowardice!"
The elder shook his head. Proverbs and bites of wisdom
would get nowhere with this boy. He needed another
approach to show him a better way.
Six years into the Western Sand War, the scorpion
emperor Skarrus III had conquered much of the White
Dunes. The Scarabs held them at a stalemate along the
western border, but they were free to expand south. The
emperor's Sixth Legion were the most brutal scorpion
warriors of the empire, and left a trail of blood behind them
on their warpath. They roamed the deserts slaughtering and
enslaving any creatures that they came across.
One day, an envoy from a relatively small termite mound
arrived, pleading for the help of the Scarab paladins. But their
forces were stretched thin enough as it was, and couldn't
spare enough warriors to protect the termites. Only a single
scarab accepted their plea: Azir the Gold.
Azir trekked across the desert and came to the termite
village. They were small creatures, with no weapons of their
own. They used their bodies for work, so there were no tools
to repurpose for war. They were ill-equipped and outmatched,
and Azir alone could not defeat the Legion. But the termites
were numerous, and he came up with a plan
Azir tracked the Sixth Legion through the desert, and met
them in the dunes. He strode atop the highest hill wielding
the massive blade-horn of his ancestor, Gorr of the Fine Sand.
He spotted the scorpions in the distance and bellowed a
mighty roar, gaining their attention. The legion, drunk from
desert fruit and victorious in their recent skirmishes,
answered his challenge and charged at him.
They tore across the desert atop their swift arachnid legs.
Every one of them larger than Azir himself, and 70 in number.
Within minutes they were upon his hill and flew up to
challenge his might. But Azir was not alone, and as they
climbed the slope the termite villagers, everyone of them save
the larvae and elderly, sprung into action.
The termites had burrowed into the ground hours before,
digging criss-crossing tunnels. As the Legion crossed over
their trap, they collapsed the tunnels causing the warriors to
fall in. Their swift arachnid legs were buried in sand. The
termites were numerous, as I said, and outnumbered each
scorpion warrior ten-one. They climbed upon the scorpions
and held them in place.
Azir lifted his bladehorn and tore down the dune, and
begun cleaving through the immobile scorpions, who were no
longer a match for him. They struck with their stingers, but
they were panicked and drunk and Azir dodged them handily.
Within a couple minutes he reached the bottom of the dune.
That day, the termite casualties were seven, the legion
casualties were seventy.
News of the massacre spread quickly, and damaged the
morale of Emperor Skarrus III's armies. This was one of the
factors that helped the Scarabs turn the tide and push the
scorpions back and eventually win the war.
"Do you see now, boy? Azir was the strongest scarab to
ever live, for he honed his body to perfection. But he also
honed his mind and tactical prowess. If he had simply
charged the Sixth Legion himself, do you think he would have
won?"
The boy, still wide-eyed and engulfed by the images of
desert dunes and termites and scorpion warriors, shook his
head.
"And what do you think would have happened to that
termite colony had he failed?"
"They would have died", he replied plainly.
"Yes, they would have. But Azir picked his battle for the
most opportune moment, and his victory against the most
feared warriors of the Empire helped win the war. Do you
understand what I mean now? If you are to protect the weak
and bring honor to your family, you musn't throw your life
away on battles too great for you. Nor does that mean to run
from every fight you can't win. You must balance these things
within yourself to achieve the greater good."
His grandson nodded in contemplation now. He
understood now what his grandfather meant. Fighting
enemies greater than yourself is great bravery, but doing so
without a plan for victory was foolish. He would fight for just
causes, not for the sake of violence itself. And for just causes,
one needed to win those fights.
He hugged his grandfather before applying more repairing
salve to his cracked carapace. He needed to heal quickly.
For he had a plan.

A Grandfather's Lesson
The young beetle lay in bed, nursing his cracked carapace. He
trembled with rage and shame, cursing big-beetle words
under his breath. He was in a sour mood. Another beetle
shuffled through the beads in the doorway and into the boy's
room. He was hunched and old, his carapace dented and
worn. He sat on the edge of the boy's cot, placed a patient
hand on his head and waited silently. The boy's head twitched
indignantly as his grandfather, holding his silence for several
moments before saying everything at once.
"It wasn't my fault! They started it! They insulted our family
and called them has-beens and I only wanted to uphold the
clan's honor! If they knew who you were they would never
have -"
"How many of them were there?" the old beetle said, his
voice cracked gravelly and frail.
"Three" the young beetle muttered
"And they were larger than you yes?" He nodded and his
grandfather flicked him below the horn.
"Silly boy, where has your wisdom gone?"
"I'm not afraid to lose a fight, grandfather." His eyes were
dark and defiant.
"Lose the fights you must lose, but pick your fights when
you are able."
"I won't be a coward." he stubbornly replied
"It's not about cowardice or bravery, it's about winning or
losing!"
"Fighting only the fights you can win is cowardice!"
The elder shook his head. Proverbs and bites of wisdom
would get nowhere with this boy. He needed another
approach to show him a better way.
Six years into the Western Sand War, the scorpion
emperor Skarrus III had conquered much of the White
Dunes. The Scarabs held them at a stalemate along the
western border, but they were free to expand south. The
emperor's Sixth Legion were the most brutal scorpion
warriors of the empire, and left a trail of blood behind them
on their warpath. They roamed the deserts slaughtering and
enslaving any creatures that they came across.
One day, an envoy from a relatively small termite mound
arrived, pleading for the help of the Scarab paladins. But their
forces were stretched thin enough as it was, and couldn't
spare enough warriors to protect the termites. Only a single
scarab accepted their plea: Azir the Gold.
Azir trekked across the desert and came to the termite
village. They were small creatures, with no weapons of their
own. They used their bodies for work, so there were no tools
to repurpose for war. They were ill-equipped and outmatched,
and Azir alone could not defeat the Legion. But the termites
were numerous, and he came up with a plan
Azir tracked the Sixth Legion through the desert, and met
them in the dunes. He strode atop the highest hill wielding
the massive blade-horn of his ancestor, Gorr of the Fine Sand.
He spotted the scorpions in the distance and bellowed a
mighty roar, gaining their attention. The legion, drunk from
desert fruit and victorious in their recent skirmishes,
answered his challenge and charged at him.
They tore across the desert atop their swift arachnid legs.
Every one of them larger than Azir himself, and 70 in number.
Within minutes they were upon his hill and flew up to
challenge his might. But Azir was not alone, and as they
climbed the slope the termite villagers, everyone of them save
the larvae and elderly, sprung into action.
The termites had burrowed into the ground hours before,
digging criss-crossing tunnels. As the Legion crossed over
their trap, they collapsed the tunnels causing the warriors to
fall in. Their swift arachnid legs were buried in sand. The
termites were numerous, as I said, and outnumbered each
scorpion warrior ten-one. They climbed upon the scorpions
and held them in place.
Azir lifted his bladehorn and tore down the dune, and
begun cleaving through the immobile scorpions, who were no
longer a match for him. They struck with their stingers, but
they were panicked and drunk and Azir dodged them handily.
Within a couple minutes he reached the bottom of the dune.
That day, the termite casualties were seven, the legion
casualties were seventy.
News of the massacre spread quickly, and damaged the
morale of Emperor Skarrus III's armies. This was one of the
factors that helped the Scarabs turn the tide and push the
scorpions back and eventually win the war.
"Do you see now, boy? Azir was the strongest scarab to
ever live, for he honed his body to perfection. But he also
honed his mind and tactical prowess. If he had simply
charged the Sixth Legion himself, do you think he would have
won?"
The boy, still wide-eyed and engulfed by the images of
desert dunes and termites and scorpion warriors, shook his
head.
"And what do you think would have happened to that
termite colony had he failed?"
"They would have died", he replied plainly.
"Yes, they would have. But Azir picked his battle for the
most opportune moment, and his victory against the most
feared warriors of the Empire helped win the war. Do you
understand what I mean now? If you are to protect the weak
and bring honor to your family, you musn't throw your life
away on battles too great for you. Nor does that mean to run
from every fight you can't win. You must balance these things
within yourself to achieve the greater good."
His grandson nodded in contemplation now. He
understood now what his grandfather meant. Fighting
enemies greater than yourself is great bravery, but doing so
without a plan for victory was foolish. He would fight for just
causes, not for the sake of violence itself. And for just causes,
one needed to win those fights.
He hugged his grandfather before applying more repairing
salve to his cracked carapace. He needed to heal quickly.
For he had a plan.
The Testimony of Amph
Tally
By Anon
"Picked up a bunch of hermits coming into town the other
day. They can never stay for long the beach settlements dry
them up fast - but they come in, peddle their wares, try and
cheat us out of some good gold to adorn their new homes,
then shuffle out again. 'Cept, this lot were different. The bloke
at the front had some big ol' ruin on his back, and a mean
attitude to boot. Still, not like crabs are known for their kind
temperaments...
Claimed, rather condescendingly, and rather loudly, in the
bar that he was some kinda big shot archaeologist. Reckoned
he'd liberated his home from some old Trilobite ruins back in
the sea. Told some grand tales of some tomb they'd broken
into. Turns out the Trilobites buried their dead with all their
old moults. The crab had 'hypothesised' that it was to serve
them in the afterlife. They rearranged the face plates on each
of the moults so they looked like they were intact still. Grave
guards or summit'. Couldn't pay me to go down there...
Sounds spooky as anythin'. 'Sides, saving your old moults is
prolly something only the rich could do - I'd have to throw
mine out if'n I kept any more than my first - I mean the space
alone
Anyways, he kept pointing to his new house and saying
how it used to be some part o' this tomb complex. Now, the
locals down there, some Snapper Shrimp, were terrified of
the place apparently. Reckoned there was some bad magic
around it. Curses an' that. The crab blew them off as flighty,
and we all know the Snappers that get washed up can be
jumpy as anythin', but I tend to trust their instincts on that.
Got to be a reason to be that paranoid, y'know?
Thought nothin' of it. Surely the posh educated crab knows
more than me. Certainly he insisted he did on the night.
I'd think nothin' of it but next morning, me and some of the
lads went beach combing. Y'know, picking up some drift,
seeing if we could prep the burrows for the next storm. What
do we find but that fancy pants new home he'd got himself.
We decided not to get too near, but very little in this world'll
make a hermit crab abandon a prize like that I'll tell you..."
Testimony of Amph Tally, Sand Hopper, an enquiry into the
disappearance of Bernhart Page, Hermit Crab
Still as the Morning Dew
An Old Spider Folk Tale
Young Phallixa had wandered far and wide Setting her web
and bait. She prepared for the grandest of suppers, Tasty
morsels to set on her plate.
But when the first sun fell and moon rose, And her web
was empty and bare, Phallixa began to go hungry, As the prey
would not enter her lair.
For eight days Phallixa did weave, For eight nights Phallixa
did wait, And not even a gnat dare approach, Her emptiness,
she could not sate.
And on the ninth morning she clamored, To the Queen of
the Web in the skies. And the only reply was the laughter Of a
Mantis who had lain in disguise.
You cry for the favor of Gods, Yet you hunt like a spiderling
new. Come, my child, I will show you, To be still as the
morning dew.
And so Phallixa did listen, And emerged from the forest
engorged. To her brood she whispered the secrets, And
shared the long-hunt's rewards. Eight gnats, twelve aphids,
three flies, From stillness she had stricken so swiftly, And a
pair of blades from a mantis Who perhaps had been trusting
too quickly.
By: SpiderAnon

Lay Low the Beast
Sothi fluttered down from the upper spires of the branch city,
past the trade district down into the rot-slums at the base of
the stump that composed the majority of the bustling border
town. He tightly clutched a bundle of scrolls under his arms,
careful not to drop a single one in the vertical labyrinth,
Sweetroot Point. He darted on his pale white wings past
parties of opulent and fragrant butterflies and their trailing
cults of followers, and between eager fly merchants, each
peddling their own masterwork wares of varying uselessness
from somewhere across the Big Green.
As he made his way through the deepest, foulest, most
rotten section of the vertical town, he could not help but feel
repulsed by the squalor of the people that lived down here.
But this is where his wingless compatriots were comfortable,
so Sothi made that sacrifice to his comfort. But not for much
longer. After this job, he'd be done, he could retire and
become fat and rich and famous. His family had encouraged
him to join the Lunar Temples like his father and brother
before him, but Sothi was cut from a different cloth. The
cloth of the warrior, red and ruddy and dragged through the
mud kicking and screaming.
He entered the tavern that his partners had virtually
appropriated these past few months with their constant and
bombastic presence. The mud-caked walls of the inn revealed
that it had once been an uptown joint, back when this was the
highest point the town had reached. In the past decades
though, the town grew higher and higher into the log and had
left this place behind. Sothi couldn't help but feel pained at
the now dishevelled termite craftsmanship. Once, this place
could have been considered art.
Carrying a bundle of scrolls under his arm, he pushed his
way through the crowded dive pub until he reached the table
his fellows were seated, or rather, the four tables they had
pushed together. He slammed the scrolls down and brushed
aside their half eaten meals and stale drinks.
"What is this?" the colossal stag beetle, Andronicus
bellowed, as his yard of vintage bee mead was toppled, barely
catching it with one of his arms.
"Sothi you sonovahornet," barked another, a grasshopper
saga-writer named Skorpa, who had been accompanying him
since the early days. Skorpa had said he felt the touch of
destiny upon the moth-warrior, but Sothi suspected he had
actually felt his generosity of coin and found himself quickly
addicted.
The rest of the bugs at the table made their own various
remarks of outrage before they hushed down in the presence
of their leader. There sat a quartet of ambitious ant brothers
discontent with their nest, two flies, one an alchemist and the
other an arbalest, and finally, a wasp beast hunter from the
northern wastes.
"What is the meaning of this, Sothi?" the fly alchemist set
down his bioluminescent concoction as he spoke.
"We've finally got it boys. I've got us the job."
"Is it better than the last one? I'm no better off from the
Spider Job than I was before. In fact, I think that one actually
COST me coin," Andronicus rumbled.
"It's more than just a job, my sweet friend," Sothi blasted
pheromones of excitement into the air as he spoke. "It's THE
job. This is it. The Big Job. The Last Job. The job that'll get
you rich and fat and famous, boys. This is the job we'll be
remembered for."
"Get on with it," one of the Ant Brothers barked. The other
three chortled amongst themselves.
"A Great Thornback was spotted in the area, and the
magister of the bazaar here has put a price on its head," Sothi
unfurled the first scroll. "Not only that, the Moon has willed
the stars align, to make this the job of jobs. The quest of
quests," he spread the second scroll on the table.
Apprehension filled the air. It was nearly thick enough to
taste. He smelled fear, and excitement. But mostly fear. "This
is a commission from the master-at-arms at Fort Blackhorn.
He's looking for Thornback quills to make javelins for the
beetle garrison."
"Sothi," Skorpa chirped. "You magnificent bastard."
"I'm not done, sweet friend," he set down the third scroll.
"This is a contract from the Alchemist's guild here in our
beloved Sweetroot Point. It's obligating us to provide them
several gallons of red-blood for their experiments. And finally,
this is a trade deal," he set down the fourth scroll. "From a
caravanner six towns over. It's an open request for exotic
meats that he will buy wholesale and distribute amongst
various meat vendors."
"What's on the fifth scroll, moth?" the fly asked.
"How we're gonna do it."
The ground was damp and the air was damper, this far out
in the bush. The barbaric wasp tracker that Sothi had hired
lead the hunting party through the underbrush towards the
lair of the Great Thornback. She had tracked this beast
several weeks ago, but no one had lent an ear to her cause.
There was no respect for her kind here, not this close the
borders of Bee Country. But Sothi, ever a pragmatist, had
listened where others had turned away, and this would
change everything.
The plan would work, she thought to herself. The plan had
to work. It was too good not to. And they'd all die, too. She
held her warspear firmly. The moth-warrior followed her
closely, armed with his axe and shield, though it would do him
no good in this fight. The beast was simply too large. A block
or a parry is meaningless to a creature twenty times your
size, no matter how skillful a warrior one was. His second set
of arms held a short bow, but she knew that this too, would
do little to the beast. She wondered even if it could penetrate
its thick hide.
The flies had armed themselves more wisely. The first, the
alchemist, carried jars of fire, a sorcerous and truly
formidable weapon. She found herself afraid of the fly,
eccentric and mad, and fear was not a thing she had felt in a
long time. The second fly had a pair of heavy crossbows, that
would have been easily considered artillery had this fly not
been so colossal. He was nearly larger than the beetle
swordsman leading the ants down in the dirt below. Those
crossbows, she was certain could break its skin. She did not
know where the grasshopper had gone.
They waited outside the lair of the monster, at the very
bottom of the night. The moth uttered a prayer to his God,
and motioned for everyone to get in position. The ants and
the beetle moved up with him to the mouth of the cave, and
the two flies hovered over them. The moth strode in alone
into the gaping dark, bow drawn.
He loosed his arrow towards the sleeping giant, a great black "Now!" Sothi shouted upwards. An enormous net of spider
mass the size of the tavern back in Sweetroot Point. It did not silk weighted down by stones came down from above,
stir. He fired a second arrow. It did not stir. He shouted at it prepared overhead by Skorpa. The silk net, massive and thick
furiously in the moth-tongues. Still, it lay silent. Retreating, he landed on the Thornback's head and tangled it. It panicked
motioned for the party to join him in the cavern, barely in for just a moment, but a moment was all she needed.
sight. The wasp readied her pole arm and flew to the restrained
"What is he doing?" one of the ant brothers whispered. creature with lightning speed, driving the blade of it into the
"Trust the boy," Andronicus rumbled. "He knows what he's Thornback's greedy eye. It stopped its thrashing immediately.
doing." The beetle began his march forwards into the dark, a The beast was dead. Sothi landed on its back to prod it to be
blade in each hand. Tentatively, the ants followed, weapons sure. The wasp withdrew her blade and hovered, inspecting
and shields raised nervously. the wound. Andronicus lay in the mud, bloodied and pinned.
Sothi motioned for the flies to get in position near its head. Skorpa started laughing nervously above. Andronicus
The arbalest prepared his crossbows, aiming straight at it's joined in with a confident bellow. The wasp let herself
closed eye. chuckle at the stunt they had just pulled. But Sothi, Sothi
And then it breathed. wore only a smirk of self satisfaction, high on the anticipation
The beast's snore sucked the arbalest's tiny wings towards of his rewards.
its face, pulling the fly towards its giant, wet nostrils. He The END
screamed as his wing was crippled on impact and he
sputtered down towards the ground. The horrible beast rose
from its wake, blinking its eyes rapidly. Panicking, the
alchemist threw fire pots at the Thornback, the light from
their fluids illuminating the lair. It was awoken entirely now,
and raised itself onto its thick, muscular legs. It opened it
long snout and hissed, a thousand razor teeth glinting in the
light of the small fires raging in the undergrowth of the cave.
The arbalest screamed in horror as the Thornback blitzed
forward, crushing him underfoot.
"Fall back! FALL BACK!" Andronicus roared, motioning for
the ants to retreated before turning tail himself and sprinting
for the exit. Sothi loosed arrow after arrow at the creature to
no avail, the tiny projectile getting lost in its spiny and jagged
hide.
The alchemist threw another fire pot at the creature,
hitting it square in the snout. The heat singed its fur and flesh
and irritated its eyes. It furled its brow and drew back its
teeth, revealing once again its enormous fangs. It swatted at
the fly with its paw, but the alchemist deftly evaded it, his
unpredictable movements sheltering him from its attacks.
Sothi turned back to the fight inside the cave after
retreating back into the night. There the fly still battled the
beast. It looked as if he may even lay it low single handedly.
The fly lifted his arm to throw yet another pot before he
erupted violently into flame, an aerial beacon of fire. He
screamed and darted about like a tiny sun before tumbling to
the damp earth.
"By the moon."
The Thornback was not amused, and it screeched a
horrible roar before loping towards the fighters in long,
unnatural strides.
"Keep retreating, get back!" Andronicus shouted. When he
turned to face the ant shield wall, they were gone. They had
long since fled into the woods. "Bastards!"
"Stick to the plan!" Sothi shouted down to the warrior as
the horrible beast came ever closer.
Andronicus braced himself for impact and took a fighting
stance as the creature slammed into him, trying to pin him to
the earth with its slavering muzzle. He dropped a pair of his
swords and used his thick arms to hold its mouth from his
body, and his other arms frantically slashed its face, just
barely out of reach of its enormous blackened eyes.
"Do it now damn you!" Andronicus howled, struggling with
the creature.
 Guards finish their last patrols of the day, and the night
A Day in Leaftown guards prepare for their shift on the Wall and in the streets.
by Trilobite Anon The farmhands put the livestock away, and Arthros prepare
As the sun rises over the forest, the Light falls of the town for another night's sleep. The sun sets, and the next day, the
of Leafdown. The small town is built into the valley between hustle and bustle repeats again.
two hills, with a small wooden palisade. On the wall, the
lights from torches are extinguished as the weary Beetle,
Hornet and the odd Grasshopper stationed as guards prepare
to change shifts. Throughout the town, Arthros of all species
begin to awake. The Lunarian Priest, a wizened old Moth,
gets up from his Vigil of the Moon, and prepares to hobble
back to the Temple. The Butterfly acolytes in the Temple,
which serves all faiths, prepare to make meals for the rest of
the clergy and any unfortunate souls down on their luck.
Others, such as a mighty Stag Beetle, begin their morning
prayers to various deities.
In homes across the town, families prepare for another day.
The fires are stoked, pots put to boil, and young grubs and
nymphs start to hunger and pester their parents about it. The
shopkeepers prepare to open their businesses, with a few Fly
alchemists preparing their wares, Roaches frantically
sweeping up their shops, and two Grasshoppers firing up the
forges.
Down by the river, the resident Leech and Crab couple
prepares for their day, with the Leech preparing her herbs
and poultices for the day, while the Crab, a Fiddler, starts to
tune his instrument.
As the sun continues its march across the sky, Leafdown
only gets busier. The town council, including Ant, Bee and
Termite representatives, headed by the Hornet known as
Horan Greywing, meets and prepares to discuss and vote on
matters concerning the town. Travellers, including the odd
adventuring group, stop by the shops for supplies or Myra's
riverside den for patching up. Or they stop at the Spinning
Leaf Inn, owned by an old Mantis, Kren'thak, who likes his
tea and talk with his patrons, for rest and a hot meal.
At this time, once a week, the caravans roll into the town.
The first is pulled by large Snail mounts, herded by Ants
riding Wetas. This caravan is from Queen Uza's colony. It is
well stocked with honeydew and aphid meat. Another, not far
behind, is also pulled by snails, and is guarded by Termites.
The guard includes two fearsome looking Termite Soldiers,
from Ferngrowth Mound. This caravan's wagons are full of
fungus flour, grass seed beer, and Termite saliva, which is a
potent glue. The last caravan is from Goddess-Queen Radia's
Hive. The Bees fly in carrying containers full of pollen, honey,
Mead and beeswax, all valuable trade goods. The caravans of
the Termites and Ants pass through fields tended by farmers
of all species, growing and harvesting things like berries and
raising Snails, which are traded or sold to the Caravans.
As the sun grows closer to its rest for the night, shadows
play across the rooftops and the Stone spire that marks the
Town Hall. Young Arthros scamper back to their parents to
eat dinner and talk about their "adventures" with their
friends. Games like Hidey Hole and Slay the Dragon are
embellished and laughed about.
Shops begin to close, with Amber chips being counted up
and stored away safely. The Spinning Leaf's patrons are
served dinner, and treated to lengthy debates on philosophy.
Myra and her husband clean up the den and tend to any
injured or ill who need to stay over night.
 The main road was cleared as the Spearbough Riders rode
The Spearbough Riders forth, the citizens waving and shouting encouragements or
By Leech Anon "Git off yer arses, ye' overgrown grubs!" the standing patiently aside waiting to resume their errands.
Captain shouted as she strode into the barracks of the Young grasshopper nymphs and spiderlings carrying peeping
Spearbough Riders, quickly followed by a flurry of movement. frogs chase after them shouting and cheering for their local
Soldiers jumped from their previous distractions to stand at heroes. Several of the soldiers waved to the crowds as they
attention by their bunks or hammocks. passed, one young grasshopper lancer trying to hide his face
The war-scarred scarab marches past her soldiers, her from a female grasshopper glaring at him from the crowd.
three remaining arms clasped behind her as she inspects The pair of ant riflers riding on his weta behind him goad and
them silently. The Spearbough Riders were a ragtag bunch of tease about his latest tryst that ended up with him suffering a
grizzled warriors of various races mostly comprised of beetle cracked exoskeleton only nights before.
and grasshopper lancers yet included several spider lassoers, The main gates of the stone wall that wound around the
a trio of locust sibling berserkers, even a handful of moth town creak open at their approach. Unpo salutes the
battle-mages. This wasn't including the group of Unhived cannoneer crews manning the walls as they pass through, the
riflers, ants who became independent mercenaries after their gates sealing shut once the last of them made it through. The
Hive had been lost to a fungal plague. Big Green stretched out before them and the Spearbough
Captain Unpo was a veteran of a long life living on and Riders could already see the pillars of black smoke and dust
surviving the Big Green, her carapace and chitinmold armor rising on the horizon.
both scarred and rough with age. She wasn't one for The captain dons her helmet of burnished bronze and
unnecessary flash or decoration having been raised on a barks her orders, the soldiers separating into their groups
simple Aphid Ranch. Yet her tortoise shell shield and cricket each of them with their own important task and mission.
steel lance were her pride and joy, polished to a bright shine. They'd planned for events like this and they knew their parts.
Captain Unpo whirls around to face the company of weta- Lancers rode their weta mounts, shields and lances held
riders staring straight ahead as they await her commands. ready, each accompanied either by a pair of Ants armed with
Clicking her mandibles the dun colored beetle barks out, rifles and grenades or one of their few battle-mages.
"Alrigh', we got tha watchtowers reportin' some bad news, The Spearbough Riders rode toward the oncoming raiders
grubs. Seems tha Locust Reavers we drove off las' week and monstrous denizens of the plains. They had fought many
weren' too happy about it, eh? Watchtowers are in a panic, times to defend their homes and loved ones and today was no
sayin' the Reavers are usin' flames to drive a whole flock o' different. They were the Spearbough Riders and they would
Basilisks our way," this caused hushed whispering to break defend their home until the very last of them drew their very
out in alarm. last breath.
Unpo let's out a short bark of a shout and the gathered
soldiers go quiet and she continues, "Now we know what
we're goin' to do, righ'?" She pauses, glancing around the
room, "We're goin' to mount up and ride to meet them scum
and their feathery devils!" she stamps her foot, her soldiers
standing rigid at attention, "Who are we?!" she shouts
"We are the Spearbough Riders!" the all shout as one.
"These hungry bastards think they can run us over an' eat
us outta home an' hearth! Not on our watch!" she thumps her
remaining left hand against her armored chest, "We are the
Riders! Our lances, rifles an' shields will rout these ruffians
an' their beasts! Spearbough is our home an' I'll be a dung-
roller before I let them harm it!"
Her soldiers shouted in agreement, stamping their feet and
clacking mandibles. Captain Unpo speaks out once more,
"Armor up an' ride out! Harrying formations, this isn' the first
time we've had to fight those feathered demons!" she shouts
and marches past her soldiers hurrying to armor themselves
the pass by the armory for their weapons.
It takes hardly fifteen minutes before the Spearbough
Riders are riding out from their stables. Wetas hopping and
dashing forward with Captain UnpoMuic on her piebald spiny
weta she called simply Kicker, her gleaming lance held high
at the front of the Riders.
Spearbough was an old tilted Greattree, its trunk shattered
by an ancient and ferocious lightning strike and worn with
age. It resembled a jagged spear tilted toward the center of
the Big Green, guarding against the wilds of the vast plains.
Scaffold buildings hung from the leaning trunk, spiders and
flying residents making their homes far above the bustling
trade-town that spread out around the roots.