Far enough from the goblin army that the humans would never think to search the area, a shadow moved through the sparse trees, leaving deep prints in the soft mud. A pair of eyes glowed in the gloom of the night as the figure walked into a shallow pool one of the trees stood in and the water moved aside, revealing compacted earth. They stomped on the hard earth three times and it opened, revealing steps carved into the stone. The figure descended into the darkness and the earth covered them, the water of the pool moving back into place above them.

A hand covered a snout-like nose as they entered a large cavern. Despite its size, it was too small for the group it contained. The Root Tribe weren’t the biggest inhabitants of Green Mountain, but they were far from the smallest. Especially the males. They were as thick around as logs and two heads taller than the females. If only they had the brains to match the size of their tusks. Unfortunately, they were all as dumb as the rocks that blessed them.

A small fire burned away in a pit in the middle of the room, providing a middling amount of light. Three females lounged around it, the flames illuminating their serious faces. The one who wore the deepest frown was a female with speckled skin, covered in spots of green, brown, and yellow that would have been great camouflage if they were home. One of her tusks was chipped from a previous battle and a jagged scar on one side of her face proclaimed her as a warrior, one of the few females that had chosen the road of a combatant over that of a matriarch.

Beside her sat a female with wine-red skin interspersed with splotches of purple the color of a bruise. The skull of a creature with the branching horns covered most of her face and a large black fur hung over her shoulders. Fading black tattoos were drawn along her arms, intricate shapes and swirls that didn’t form a recognizable picture.

The last female was a rare bright blue with splotches of white, calling to mind a cloudy sky. Unlike the other females who wore their dark hair long, hers was just as white as the markings along her body and cut in a short bob. She was also the most dressed, wearing a pair of brown pants and dark vest. She lounged on her side, head cradled in the palm of one hand.

They all looked up as the figure approached. The red-skinned female barked something, but the figure held up a hand. “Please. We agreed to use our Common names. You especially need the practice, Edith.”

Edith growled. “Stupid name. Has no tradition. Are you not embarrassed to use such weak words to address yourself, Jasmine?”

“I quite like my common name,” the blue female interjected while sitting up.

“You like everything human, you freak,” the warrior grumbled. “Edith is right. It is insulting but it’s what must be done for victory so we will abide.”

“Thank you, Cora. You will be happy to know that your sister’s plan has, hm, worked without a hitch. The human leader has departed along with the strong warrior. They are off to the capital. The next part of the plan can proceed without issue.”

“She has the courage of any warrior,” Cora said, her fingers idly stroking her jagged scar.

“Going to the stronghold of the enemy is brave,” Edith grumbled. “She will be remembered.”

“Whoa, you make it sound like she’s already dead,” the blue female exclaimed, waving her hands in front of her. “There’s a chance this can all work out, right? That’s why we agreed to do this Dh—I mean, Lesley’s way. Peace is the best outcome.”

“Sky is correct. Lesley is putting her life on the line for a peaceful future, not as a mere distraction.”

“But it is a distraction we will not waste. From what Lesley said, the prince was a, hm. Warrior for show? A useless sword. The problem was the warrior beside him. It is good that the prince took the problem with him. The enemy is without a champion.”

“We could take them tonight,” Cora said, the fire throwing menacing shadows over her scowl.

“We could…but we won’t. That would be wasting Lesley’s efforts. If we kill them now, a force many times stronger than the one watching the Swarm will come to take revenge. Now, they look at us, but they see nothing. We can build. Prepare. Then, we will be prepared for either peace or war.”

“Yeah! With the, uh. What’s the Common word for…” Sky gestured toward the corners of the cavern, where the males rested or noisily chewed on prey.

“Men,” Jasmine offered.

Cora scoffed. “They are not men. They are the cursed.”

“Shackled,” Edith hissed, her tone as grave as the warrior’s was condescending.

Jasmine shook her head. She didn’t like them talking badly about the males of their tribe, but it was hard to argue with them. Ever since the Age of Domination centuries ago, their tribe had never been the same.

The Root Tribe was blessed by the earth. Just like the roots of the world, they were born to burrow beneath the surface. Especially their males. Every one of them was born with a pure affinity and a talent for building their core. They had a sense for the bounties beneath the surface and had used that talent to make the Root Tribe the richest land in the world.

They had also had a gift for construction and had built great palatial complexes with towers that touched the clouds and caverns that went deep into the earth. They had never been the strongest, but their reputation had been respected the world over.

Until they came.

The beasts with long ears. They raided the Root Tribe’s towers and invaded their caverns. Despite their brutish appearances, the tribe were artisans. The beasts were fighters. Neither side was weak, but the savages reveled in battle like no other. When the tribe lost a champion, they balked and grieved. When one of the animals fell, the ones behind it laughed and charged with more energy. It was an impossible war to win.

Eventually, the Root Tribe lost and the animals took their due. They wanted the earth’s blessing. Many races had been jealous of their pure affinities but only the animals were crazy enough to subjugate them to use their population for breeding stock. They took a middling interest in the females, but they coveted the males like a man craved water in a desert. The beasts bound them and used them, producing generation after generation of new captors.

It lasted for years. The matriarchs had to petition to be allowed to have children and the price they paid was surrendering their sons. All who refused were executed. Their sons endured far worse fates.

They spent their lives bound. If they were well-behaved, the chains existed in their minds, their wills trained out of them. Those not broken were kept in physical bindings, chains and cages, until they learned to obey their masters. They did nothing but breed on command. Some never saw the light of day for years, according to the stories. The beasts used drugs that dulled the males’ minds and forced their bodies to betray them. They spent their lives in sexual hazes that didn’t allow them to have a single intelligent thought.

Those the beasts rejected were sent back to the Root Tribe that were eager to accept them. After years of such treatment, their men, once the envy of the world, became as dumb as the rocks they moved. Little more than drooling brutes. The matriarchs saw it happening but could do nothing about it. Resistance meant death.

The Great War, an event that devastated the world, came as a great boon to the tribe. The beasts that occupied their lands retreated, taking the males with them. By then, it was clear that mating with their males didn’t improve the chance of having a child with the pure affinity, but the animals had developed a liking for the Root Tribe. They took their slaves with them, leaving only the rejects.

The matriarchs took their broken sons and fled the conflicts, taking refuge with several other tribes on the continent that the human traders called Green Mountain. After several generations, they were nowhere close to their old prosperity and their men were just as dumb. They had tried all manner of ways to fix what was broken but nothing worked. Recently, a matriarch who had trained her physical affinity to a great level discovered why.

The problem went beyond behavior. The men of the Root Tribe had been changed fundamentally. The matriarch didn’t have enough knowledge to fix it, or even identify the problem, but, comparing their brains to a female’s, she knew something was wrong. The problem was beyond their reach, but they knew which group might have an answer. The ones who broke them in the first place.

Unfortunately, the Root Tribe knew the beasts wouldn’t help them out of compassion. They only responded to might. Their previous strength was far beyond their reach and it wasn’t enough anyway. So, they asked for help.

It was simple to unite the tribes. The promise of more land was more than enough to motivate them to action. If they were lucky, they could bring the humans into the alliance. While they didn’t have a fraction of the power the beasts supposedly wielded, quantity was a strength of its own. If they couldn’t best the long ears, it was enough to overwhelm them.

The humans could also remain neutral. The Root Tribe didn’t care to make more enemies.

But if the humans got in their way, then they would fuel the tribes’ conquest. The first wave was a precursor to the true force. After the spring harvests, the Swarm would cross the sea in its entirety. Millions of the little green pests, along with the loci that turned them from creatures no better than rats to a tribe that had defended the largest territory of Green Mountain for centuries.

It would be a lot of mouths to feed. Thankfully, they could eat anything. Including the flesh of their enemies.