Clay Bees are a species of social Magical Creatures that mainly live in hives made on the ground from clay. They are common in the inner parts of La Réunion and mostly inoffensive if their hive is not directly harmed by humanoids.

Strengths: high number, hive mind, flight. The density of their body weight, considering it mostly made of stone, makes a Worker bee's charge as dangerous as being hit by a thrown rock.

Weaknesses: Hive mind dependent on the queen. Most queens don't live long enough to become capable of complex strategy. If a Bee is kept long enough underwater, the clay constituting its body will dissolve itself.

Recommendation: Avoid direct, close-ranged conflict. If the Hive is not damaged, the bees will not pursue intruders. Alternatively, destroy the Hive at a long-range with the help of long-range or artillery Spells or drown the Hive.

Danger Rating: Individual: DR 1/4, a nuisance. Capable of lesser Clay Skin-equivalent natural ability.(length; 3 cm, height; 2cm).

Swarm (50 or more individuals): DR 6 to 10 depending on the scale of the swarm.

Soldier: DR 4. partial resistance to explosion and Lightning-based spells under tier 3. Capable of and Clay Skin equivalent. (length; 15cm, height, 5 cm). Appearance of a stinger composed of obsidian.

Queen: DR 7. Quasi-immunity to Lightning spells under tier 4. Capable of Obsidian Skin, Elemental Weapon, Shape Earth, and Erupting Earth equivalent. (length; 80 cm, height; 25 cm).

Elder Queen: DR 9. Quasi-immunity to Lightning spells under tier 6. Capable of Shape Earth, Diamond Skin, Maximized Erupting Earth, and Investiture of Earth equivalent. (length; 100 cm, height; 30 cm).

Extract from "Bestiary of La Réunion and its Waters", by Tanaka Inagi, First Librarian of La Réunion

Barmak sat down slowly. The chair, as usual, was slightly too snug for him. He grimaced, but ignored the uncomfortable pressure, hoping that this one, that had been carved from solid stone, would at least support his weight, unlike the metallic one from a pair of years ago. The Human Intendant, Étienne, had been extremely embarrassed about the incident, he remembered with a smirk. “If he knew what Pyrite does to me daily, he might just give her an earful,” the Chieftain mumbled, amusing himself with the prospect of taking revenge on the little Half-Orc by unleashing a worried Human diplomat on her. He knew by experience that Étienne, for all his good intentions, was an exasperating interlocutor for his race, as he was above all a peacemaker who thrived in a well-organized society. He still had a few open scratches from Soot’s latest ambush, though. The winged cat had taken to bother him by imitating its master, he reminded himself, and vengeance was a plate best eaten bloody… Yes, a long talk with the Intendant would do the little girl a lot of good, he decided. Plus, wasn’t she friends with Étienne's son? He would have to tell his bodyguards to mention it in their small talks with human subaltern dignitaries, he decided. The gossip would make its way to the unfortunate man eventually.

The flock of Harpies landed close. He gave the Azad of the bird-women a deep welcoming nod, exposing his throat, then the back of his neck. She was young, not thirty tempest seasons old yet, but phenomenally powerful for her age, he knew. That was in part due to her status as Azad, the spiritual leader and record-keeper of her tribe, but she’d earned that with wisdom and strength in battle. She reciprocated his greeting while shuffling into the nest that had been prepared for her. The summer’s cool evening air was becoming almost cold near her, especially when she was irritated. The humans must’ve messed something up with her seat too.

“I hear you showed your history to a few young Humans and Pyrite.” He said, his voice low and solemn. “I didn’t expect the honor for the little one. Thank you, Azad.”

“Our history is no secret,” she replied. “I don’t think they understood, but they will.”

Barmak, the Great Orc hoped the Harpy was right. After all, children of today would probably be the ones who would have to face that particular crisis in the future. The monster wouldn't risk breaking open its metaphysical prison-turned-lair before Nabeelah, the tricentenary Brishnah of the Harpy, ended her life cycle, which is expected in 20 years or so. As for his shaman, he would probably not live past that. He had already lived more than a century, while most Orcs die before 60.

On the other hand, The Azad would be able to help them, and maybe himself too, though he would be old then. At that time, with no living Great Huntresses left, the Harpies and Orcs would need their allies like neither had ever needed them before. And just for this reason…

“Let’s see if they were worthy of that honor, hmm?” He said with a grin. “I can’t wait to see what the little Humans have invented this year.”

His tribe knew the terror of being hunted by a monster they couldn’t vanquish. He would see that this one would die before it would come to that, even if it meant years of negotiation with Étienne and submission to the Old One in his Garden. And he certainly wasn’t above passing down resources a young Human Mage needed to perfect his craft if he thought it would help. Not as if he and his boys needed those anyway.

“It begins,” Sheher remarked a few minutes later, once both Harpy and Orc retinue finished taking their places, catching him while he was lost in thoughts. “An Earth mage.”

Barmak observed as the kid took his place in the middle of the wide plaza, saluted the rows of seat bearing NoMs and civilian Mages, then the Demi-Human side of the square, and finally, the side occupied by the Council Members and high-ranking military Mages. A slim silhouette stood up. Barmak groaned. Of course, the Humans would place themselves backs to the sun!

“What is the nature of your innovation, young Louis?”

And now, Barmak knew who was heading the ceremony. “Really? Her?” Sheher whispered, indignant, probably on the children’s behalf. Looking at Étienne, Barmak confirmed what he already knew. The poor man hadn’t been informed that this year’s master of ceremony would be Sinoe, the oldest and probably most powerful of all the Spirit Familiars the humans had on the island. She was an impressive being, but not exactly the most appropriate choice for an important occasion, and she was known to be mischievous…

Louis stared a few seconds, surprised by the appearance of the Lava Nymph, but he answered proudly; “It’s a variant of Wall, ma'am. It allows me to fuse my Abjurer’s Shield into the Transmutation construct to reinforce a portion of it.”

The Spirit smiled widely. “Good! Well then, how about we test that Wall of yours,” She suggested, looking behind... nervously? Barmak wondered what she was afraid of. Meanwhile, Louis obeyed, crafting an impressive Wall dividing the plaza in two. The barricade of clay was certainly looking defensible, Barmak conceded. It was only slightly smaller than the great Orc, a meter wide and ten long. He noted the stair in the inner part of the wall and the bits of clay that stuck out… Was it made to be manned by fellow mages that would take cover and throw long-range spells from the top? The old Bastion of Le Port had something similar…

Sinoe took a good look at the fortification, then threw a violent punch at it. The Wall shined where she hit, the dust falling from it burning off. The ground shook distinctly, but the Wall held. However, Louis winced visibly at the shock.

“Sinoe!” A strong, old voice reverberated in the square. “Stop this immediately!”

The Nymph’s face immediately distorted into a pout. She stood down, while her Master rejoined the other officials.

“My apologies,” He said, his voice amplified by a Clarion Call. “I asked my Familiar to interrupt my meditation so I could arrive in time… It seems she decided to have some fun instead.” He stopped himself, shooting daggers at the unrepentant Sinoe.

“Well then,” he went on, “since we’ve begun testing young Louis’s Wall’s solidity, let’s see how it takes to impacts when you can’t reinforce it with Shields, hmm?”

Louis mumbled an approval, and Colonel Raynaud walked around the wall and nodded at Sinoe. She grew, her fair visage becoming a featureless mask crying brilliant tears of lava in an uncontrolled flow. She then wiped a magmatic tear from her face and flicked it at the Wall of Clay.

When the smoke dissipated, a hole the size of an Orc’s head had appeared on the Wall. Now that he could see it, Barmak understood how such a young Mage had managed to create such an imposing structure. It was not simply a slab of Clay that he had coaxed from the ground and the Elemental Plane of Earth. It had a structure reminiscent of a beehive and might be more solid for it.

The Colonel took a breath and addressed the young Abjurer-Transmuter. “Excellent defensive spell, young man, maybe slightly lacking in durability, but the ability to absorb physical onslaughts or focused artillery effects is invaluable. In a few years, you and your sister will be able to thwart a major mermen attack with only Militia support, I can already see it! Very good indeed.” He dismissed the young Mage with a pat on his back, then turned to the other children.

“Well, who’s next?” Sinoe asked excitedly.

Damien and Julia stood up. “Hmm? Didn’t you get your turn last year, young lady?” The Colonel asked, apparently surprised that Julia would stand.

“I’d like to present a Work I made for her,” Damien began to explain, “I can’t use it myself, you see...”

A knowing glint appeared in the old officer’s eyes. “Ah, I see. And I suppose you’ve also something you’ve made for yourself to show us, am I correct, young Enchanter?”

Damien nodded. “I do. But I think Julia’s item has more chances of being an asset for us in the long term, so I wish to present it first if you don’t mind, sir.”

The old man approved with a gesture. “Go on, then.”

Julia went near Louis’s Wall, then took out the pair of knuckles Damien had fashioned for her a few months ago. They had been extensively modified since then, every available square centimeter of space was covered in runes reminiscent of Sylvan glyphs. She observed the Focus one last time, then, once ready, she took a long, deep breath, then murmured “Polymorph.”

A flash of white light hid the young sorceress from Barmak’s eyes. The temperature fell dramatically in the square, the Orc’s breath suddenly charging itself with condensation. He sniffed, noting with a hint of surprise that even the cold air couldn't hide the strong odor of fish from the sea. He dismissed the distracting thought quickly and beheld the transformed Julia.

“That’s her Spirit’s original form?” He asked, impressed. “I’d like a spar with the one who slew it.”

Polaris, the Cavern Bear-Spirit, had been a sight to behold during its life as a Magical Creature, and its reappearance as a morphic form for its slayer’s family did not betray its ancient powers. Julia stood on her legs, and the public realized how enormous she’d become, dwarfing even Barmak. She then proceeded to prove that her new form didn’t handicap her capacity as a ranged fighter by piercing Louis’s damaged Wall with a vicious volley of Freezing Rays, though The great Orc noted the manifested from her form’s maw, and not her hands as was usual. She then proceeded to lop off one of the crenelations on top of Louis’s abused Wall by striking it with an arm with what looked suspiciously like contemptuous ease to his eyes. Then, she lowered herself back on her four legs, and returned to the rows of seat, lying there expectantly.

At this sight, Colonel Raynaud turned to Damien. “Shouldn’t your friend return to her original form?”

The young Enchanter reddened. “That would be my fault, I’m afraid, sir… I’m not a Transmuter myself, and I had difficulties with the voluntary dispelling process… She can forcefully cease to fuel the spell, but it might damage the enchantment. It will stop on its own after a set span of time.”

“That’s… unfortunate, and less than conclusive to battlefield flexibility… However, the gains in raw power seem sufficient to make it a viable option. A worthy work from such a young Enchanter. Now, what else did you create, Damien?” Barmak could hear a hint of disappointment in the Magus’s voice…. He was impressed, though. Julia’s Polymorph was a priceless asset! And from what he heard from Pyrite, Damien would make things interesting too.

Speaking of Damien, he’d begun setting up something that resembled a Meditation Circle, which the mages normally used to recharge efficiently and quickly their Mana reserves. He then filled it with Low-Density Mana Crystals.

“I’m going to use this Circle to fuel my casting of this enchanted item’s intrinsic Spell.” He explained in a matter-of-fact fashion.

Before anyone could react to the absurdity of his affirmation, Barmak roared and threw his ax. An eight-armed squid-man fell, its camouflage useless, not five meters away from Raynaud, and a wave of its fellows surged on Saint-Pierre’s quay.