WoV Book 1, Chapter 8: ...might not be a smart idea.

“BY THE TWELVE PUMPS THOSE LEGS APRENTICE!”

Things had been going great. Wonderful even. Twenty wasps had died without any sort of issue, or much resistance– barring one that slipped past Kofle’s notice and attempted to stab Muur with its stinger. Exactly as the lizard wizard had promised, it had been batted back to the frontlines. What she had omitted was that she knew how to safely release the staff’s buffer on impact, meaning that it returned as a bunch of smoldering charcoal.

But other than that? Nothing of particular note had happened. Cocobezi had made an offhand remark about the unusual number of them near the pond after he’d climbed atop one of the many rocks that dotted the landscape, “Something to have the next wave of hopefuls clear out as training.” he’d said. Before jumping off his perch and… causing the ground he landed on to cave in until he was stuck down to his hips.

“WHY IS THE QUEEN THE SIZE OF A CHOCOBO!? HOW IS IT THE SIZE OF A CHOCOBO!?”

The wasps had apparently created a nest. One he’d rather rudely crashed.

Needless to say, they weren’t particularly happy about it.

“Well, this is educational enough.” Muur drawled as another wave of fire shot out over her shoulder, courtesy of her staff. She probably should be more freaked out but it was just… they were wasps. She’d kill them, or they’d kill her, or she’d escape. Much more clear cut than literally every other problem she’d had since arriving here, and all of it was things she could do something about.

See: Fire.

The wave roasted a few more, forcing the others to sit back as the flames died down. But unlike the previous times, they didn’t continue to pursue. Their queen instead made a particularly angry buzzing sound, before turning around and leaving once it was clear the trio would keep running. 

“Goodbye, kill you later.” Muur chuckled lowly even as she kept on running at a steady, sustainable pace that seemed to be ground into this body’s bones.

“Don’t stop now, keep going until we’ve reached the slums!” Leading the charge, Cocobezi urged them forwards.

When they reached said slums, they were greeted by a number of thugs, including some that had been in front of Nanny’s home. All were openly glaring at a small group of better equipped low lives that milled around, a look of disinterest and boredom on their faces.

“Sah Cocobezi,” The same lion man that had greeted them at the entrance said with a nod, “We saw a cloud of wasps, is–”

“A nest,” The Lalafell said, cutting him off before catching his breath, “Resting nigh upon the edges of the pond by the lone tree. We chanced upon it while exterminating wasps, an ill advised step saw me break part of its ceiling. Near the spawning chamber, if the presence of the queen was any indication.”

The Hrothgar swore as a murmur passed through the crowd, “Twelves. That’s no good. That place’s the main source of drinkin’ and laundry water.”

“Quite, apprentice?” Turning to Muur, the thaumaturge nodded towards the area outside of the slums, “I trust you and your ally to deal with the rest of your hunt. Venagoy, do inform Nanny that I would like to meet her post haste, alongside any of her peers she dares stomach.”

“Aye Sah.” With a nod, the lion man ran off. Cocobezi in tow.

As for the other thugs, most quickly dispersed. Those belonging to Nanny’s group followed behind Venagoy, while those that were probably belonging to other cliques moved to inform their leaders of what was going on.

“What a wast’a time,” A hyur in the group of well equipped criminals spat of the floor, “Com’on lads. We’ve bettah things to do than waste time here.”

“Well, you heard the man, Kofle.” Muur said with a roll of her shoulders, a little bit of shifting around her legs telling her they were still good and raring to go. “Let’s make with the murder. Wonder where the wasps got enough food to sustain a population like that. The marmots, maybe?”

Kpfle simply shrugged as they walked back out of the slums, “Who knows? I sure don't, and I don't think I care to, to be honest.” 

Marmots were even more of a joke for the team. In spite of being limited to less… destructive spells, a quick cast of ice to the dome was generally enough to kill the racoon-like creatures. Which was what marmots were, more slender and rat-like with oversized ears vaguely reminiscent of a bunny’s, but racoons nonetheless. They even had the ringed tail and ‘bandit mask’!

They also looked like, if you could peer into their minds, all you’d see was the DVD screensaver. Not a single braincell behind those perpetually blown open eyes.

Still, they were notably more clever and wily than the wasps. They didn’t just charge at the intruder walking on their territory mindlessly, they actually juked around the cat and took advantage of their size and speed to blast past her to get at the mage behind her. It didn’t happen often, only two out of the dozens they were tasked to kill managed it, but it still required Muur to switch targets mid-cast.

Thankfully, that amounted to taking the spell that’d been building up on her staff and cracking it across their skulls. Either that or spitting out a quick blast of raw aether from her mouth.

Speaking of, a third managed to slip past Kofle’s questionable defenses, forcing the mage to adjust. But just as she was about to lob a spell its way, a glowing mass of aether shaped like a shield slammed into its neck, lopping its head right off. 

“Yes! Finally!” The cat pumped her shield arm, the rickety mess that was holding on through nothing less than a goddamned miracle was glowing and shedding little motes of light– before falling apart once the aether that had been shoved into it ran out, “...shite. Another thing to put on the list of things to buy.”

Sighing the despondent sigh of one with little money to their name, and a great many expensive things they need to buy, the swordswoman crouched to shove the marmot corpses surrounding her into an increasingly bloody jute bag, “Marmots don’t have enough meat for a nest that size to form.” She off-handedly said, apropos of nothing.

Muur’s question about why Kofle was running around in such rickety gear died on her tongue. “...Can’t be beastmen fuckery, we’re too close to the city. Those Scorpion guys you said were bad news?”

“Maybe, or maybe something, or someone else,” Kofle grabbed the last corpse and slugged the whole bag across her back– only to realize what a terrible idea that was at the last second and drop it with a squelch– “It could be foul play. From who, I don’t know. You’ve seen it yourself, there’s plenty of rival factions in there. Could be the Scorpions, or anyone else. It also could be that the queen is feasting on aether rich materials, like corrupted crystals. All I know is that a nest that large would have already gone on a feeding frenzy if there wasn’t anything to sustain it.”

“Not going to find out what the flavor of trouble is until we raze it to the ground, huh? And maybe not even then.” Muur chuckled ruefully, shaking her head even as she kept an eye out for any other pests to put in the past tense, “At least it’ll put you closer to having gear worth a damn. Not that I got much room to talk, given how everything the Ossuary didn’t provide is pretty much worn to rags by now.”

“Bold of you to assume we’ll be asked to clear that nest out,” She responded with her own chuckle before pausing, “Then again. Knowing my luck…”

“Cursed to live in interesting times, the both of us.” The lizard said with a smile that is perhaps a touch too wry and a hair too sharp. Any and all evidence was mired in vague maybes, but she could feel which way the wind blows.

“Gods please no,” The miqo'te said as she grabbed the bag in a way that wouldn’t get blood all over her, “I’ve already had to deal with one calamity and what came before its arrival. I’d rather not live through a second.”

[hr] [/hr]

“Apprentice, you will be tasked with exterminating the nest when the time comes–” Upon meeting the Guildmaster once again, she was greeted with no fanfare and a mission…. Until the man edged away from Kofle, who buried her face in her backpack to muffle her screams. “Erm… is your companion…?”

“I just won an unspoken bet, is all.” Muur laughed quietly, for all she patted the cat on the shoulder with her scaly tail. How she had lived all those years without one of these, she had no idea.

“Aaaaah,” He nodded as if it explained everything, “I understand. I’ll be sure to have Miss Momodi put her name forward once the request is formalized. I’m afraid that eliminating such a nest is beyond the monetary power of any one individual residing in this part of the city,” ‘without opening themselves up to their enemies’ went unsaid, “As such it will take some time before the necessary gil are raised. A few days, at the most. For now the pond will be marked as off limits to all.”

“All the better, I will have the talisman by then. One less concern when I get to work turning that nest into a walk-in oven.” The lizard wizard replied with a bob of her head, not bothering for a moment to hide her pyromania. She was amongst good company.

“Will she be paid by the temple for this service?” Kofle asked seemingly at random as the three trekked back to Ul’dah proper.

“Why yes, she will be. Why do you ask?” The potato of mass destruction asked with a tilt of his head.

“Register as an adventurer before then,” The cat immediately told Muur, “If it’s a job that’s processed by the Guild and you manage to pick it there too, you’ll get both rewards.”

For the first time today, Cocobezi looked genuinely… well, Muur wouldn’t tell if he was shocked, stumped, or just amazed at the cat’s sheer fucking audacity, “Quite the… bold advice to give in the presence of someone like me, no?”

Kofle snorted derisively, “Oh please. You actually care about her, and getting more money in Ul’dah by exploit– sorry, cleverly utilizing the tools at her disposal is ‘how to get reputation and respect’ 101. Besides, what would you do about it? Tattle to the Guildmaster? Dude’s probably too busy drinking and whoring his money away…”

The potato looked almost angry. Almost until a lightbulb lit in his head, “Wait, you– Kh-kheheheh!” He started to laugh uproariously, “You–! You–! You don’t know who I am, do you!?”

“Uuuuuh… Nooooo?” The miqo'te suddenly sounded a lot more unsure of herself, “Based on the robes, and you being here, a somewhat high ranking priest–”

“Mumuepo has been jailed for the last five years!” He managed in between two bouts of laughter.

“Wait, what. Then, who’s–” “I AM!” The potato managed to shout before completely devolving into hysterics and making Kofle turn whiter than a clean sheet.