Chrysalis

“Something strange is happening,” Zluth said, his voice burbling as if rising from the depths of a particularly thick bog.

“Oh?” Shozzl replied, not particularly interested.

Zluth continued to operate the array with his numerous, spindly limbs as he leaned closer to the readout.

“Many of our monsters are being lost under D-6. Too many.”

“Which mountain is D-6 again?”

“It’s next to D-5.”

“I know it’s next to D-5, you slimeless stooge. How does that help me?”

The fierce, primal anger that dwelt within all his kind boiled up in Zluth now, hissing within his slug flesh. He suppressed it. Those who surrendered to the rage too often soon found it became more difficult to resist. It was hard to find a role within the tribe when one had a nasty habit of biting off the heads of one’s partners. And those without a role were meat for the pits.

“D-5 is claimed by the tree, huccop,” he spat, a thick wave of mucus overflowing from his mouth. “Remember now?”

that had previously drooped on the end of Shozzl’s eyestalks. Life, and

Even now, she defies

one stalk to monitor his partner. She was getting a little too

and sliding it within the folds of his protective layer

“I won’t,” Shozzl declared.

back into the bubbling acid pool. He cursed. Of all the Krath he could have been partnered with for ranging, he got Shozzl, the most useless drip of slime in

be forced to report your lax

gas that emerged along with his words would have melted a human face in

you are digested within the bowels of the Blubbeast, perhaps you will find your spawn mother there. I’m certain she still lives,” he concluded, eyes curving into wicked, crescent

shriek, eyestalks blazing red with her mindless anger, and Zluth raised his limbs

minutes later, his stomach roiled unpleasantly as he slithered through

lazy and stupid she was, Shozzl had certainly cultivated a potent acid. Zluth’s digestive tract groaned and contorted in

is going on up here?” he muttered to

unusual, the so-called ‘civilised’ races always beat back the slime, but as far as the Slee were aware, this mountain was empty except for those useless termites. Having collected useful samples already, they had hoped to clear out the bugs and

into the ooze. Faster and more agile than a slime-snake, he powered forward, his mucus-drenched foot propelling him at great speeds

through the slime

his stalks, bringing his eyes close to his own acidic flesh. He stuck to the shadows and the deeper pools, cautiously advancing, wanting to see what it was that had taken up residence above his

had attacked the slime and triggered this rage. Except that didn’t explain why it was still going on. The monsters of the fifth were inherently superior to those of the fourth. When the