Grand Saint Alloy

In the grassland surrounding the Plains Caldera, seven warriors surrounded a massive crab. They all held thick wooden shields in one hand and machetes or axes in the other. This was a tier three specimen, and had around the same mass as a bull. That did not make it particularly dangerous to the strike team. The ghost crab would slash at them with its front claws and they would deflect with their shields while stepping in to chop at the legs.

Two had already been removed and the ghost crab was starting to have trouble balancing. Its massive bulk was meant to be held by six not four legs. Looking for an escape it could not find one, the seven warriors had surrounded it. With no other option the crab decided to make a run for it. Unlike a crab, it scuttled forward, but the enemies behind it struck, severing the joints on the back legs.

Now with only the front scythes and its center pair of legs, the ghost crab could no longer stand. With its path to survival cut off, it now only wanted to take its killers with it. Its scorpion like tail was not a weapon in its mind, but it would use it that way. The sharp barb struck at the nearest warrior who caught it on his shield. It was unable to deposit its eggs in dense objects like wood or bone.

“Now!” The man yelled as the barb was now stuck in the shield.

He reached over the lip of his shield and gripped the chiton bulb at the base of the stinger. The other six men quickly stripped the ghost crab of its arms and legs, leaving it as little more than a mouth with a long tale. They quickly dragged it off the grass and placed it on a wooden stretcher. After strapping its body and tail down, the stretcher was placed in a wagon and bags of wheat were thrown on top of it.

Vin, the leader of the group surveyed his men working. Elder Plains had not deliberately let the ghost crab inside the Caldera, but he would not let the opportunity it represented pass by. His leader was a man of vision who kept the dignity of the Caldera in mind. He nodded in approval when the crab was completely covered.

“Alright, does everyone have their farming clothes?” Vin asked, at the nods from his subordinates, “Well lets get changed.”

They quickly changed into threadbare clothes that grass stains on the hems and holes worn in the knees. Straw hats replaced their steel helms and staves and sickles replaced their machetes and axes. They pulled the wagon onto the road that connected the Grass Caldera and the Plain Caldera.

About a decade ago there had only been the Plains Caldera, it was the most prosperous of the five Calderas due to the perfect land for growing crops. Few rocks would interrupt plowing and the land was flat but not level, making it easy to irrigate. Ten years ago the Plains Caldera was the largest city in the area with almost twenty thousand people.

The current chief held the position at that time as well and Vin thought he was a good man. Unfortunately, many of the workers disagreed with that assessment. Ten thousand, a full half of the Plains Caldera, just up and moved down the road to set up their own city. Elder Plains was left with a dilemma, with no workers how would anything get done. He couldn’t make the managers, teachers, and warriors pick up a hoe and plow, he couldn’t get them to make shoes, and he most certainly could not make them serve their lessers. Yes some of the more skilled labor stayed behind, but they could hardly keep up with the high demand of their fellow citizens.

Thus the workers had a monopoly on every product with only a few exceptions. A subjugation had been attempted, but all the workers needed to do was close their gates. They had all the food, and even if the Plains Caldera tried to take it, they lacked the tools to harvest it. If they took it after harvest, the workers refused to grow the food next year. As the plains supplied over two thirds of the Caldera’s food supply, other Elders got involved. They had no stake in the Plains Caldera’s well being, and simply doing business with the new city. There was nothing Elder Plain could do without antagonizing the other Calderas.

Elder Plain was stuck, purchasing the food products at an inflated price. Nine years later the Grass Caldera had a knew chief, and Elder Plain wanted this one to be the last. He would make the people of the Grass Caldera beg to be taken back.

Vin reached the dirt and fiber walls of Plain Caldera. The guards at the gates could not be paid off, the downside of people who take pride in what they do. It was a pain, but Elder Plain had kept Vin and his team at the boarder wall for the last twenty years, they would not be recognized. Vin looked over their disguise one more time, making sure that their clothing and posture matched the farmers bringing food to sell at extortionist prices.

Comically the arrogant nature of Vin’s lessers from the Grass Caldera helped him blend in. Not all of his men could pull off the meek and docile act that lesser workers were supposed to have. They had been fighting mythical beasts for the last two decades, all weakness had been beaten out of them and their lack of hesitation could be confused with arrogance.

They reached the gate in the mud wall. Mud walls might have seemed to be a bad choice, but several tier one artifacts kept the wall dry even in the rain. The fiber that was mixed in caused the wall to absorb impacts as a whole, whereas a stone wall was entirely reliant on the strength of its mortar to hold its shape.

The guard at the gate was not holding a weapon, his studded club was leaning up against the guard shack. Instead, he held a clip board and a pen, he was wearing half plate armor from the mine outside the Forest Caldera. Vin gritted his teeth at that thought, the Forest Caldera was the second most prominent city a decade ago, now they led the entire Caldera in the crafting industry.

“What’s your purpose,” The guard paused squinting at Vin, “Bastard, grass sniffer, come with me.”

The guard gestured for Vin to follow him into the guard shack. Vin almost punched the tier two guard’s nose through his teeth. Taking a deep breath he reminded himself that he had a mission and climbed down from the wagon’s driver seat. He followed the guard into his little ten by ten office.

“What is a warrior doing dressed up as a farmer?” The guard said.

What? Vin’s mind tried to figure out how they had been detected. They had covered all their bases. Well the mission was worth the guard’s life so he asked, “How could you tell, I thought our disguise was pretty good.”

The guard simply raised an eyebrow, “Your fresh off the front lines, every time there is a loud noise, you and your whole team flinches and reaches for your hips. How could I not notice that? What I need to know is why you are disguised or at least documentation saying a higher up has given you orders.”

Vin groaned internally, but he did have a good reason to be disguised. He decided to feed the guard a half truth , “We have a corpse of a ghost crab in that wagon, It would cause panic if the civilians saw it.”

The guards surprise was evident, “Well, I definitely need to confirm that.”

“Remember, don’t share this information, as we don’t know if its the only one,” Vin said as he led the guard to the side of the wagon.

The crab had exhausted itself and was asleep. Like any hard shelled bug, a sleeping one and a dead one looked exactly the same. The guard thanked Vin for his service and asked him to wait while he contacted a superior. Despite Vin’s caste the guard still made sure to do his duty. Vin tied not to get angry at the man for doing his job, he was even doing his best to be discrete. Twenty minutes later a runner came to let him into the Plain Caldera.

Vin took the wagon to a warehouse in the mostly vacant worker district. The mud houses were slowly collapsing as the rain and wind eroded them. The warehouses were still in good repair, as the Grass Caldera still used them to store product before it was sold. An empty warehouse with a cage full of chickens and a few people beside it.

Some of Vin’s subordinates closed the door behind the wagon while he dismounted and bowed to one of the people. It was Elder Plain and his cadre of advisers.

Elder Plain was a thin man who’s only notable feature was that he was balding every where but his mustache. He wore ceremonial robes of a deep green and the slippers on his feet contrasted with the leather boots of everyone else. Vin had a hard time believing the man had a mid tier three light kern, as the aura of confidence warriors had was absent around him.

“Did you get it?” Elder Plain could barely contain his excitement.

Vin bowed, “Yes Elder, we have done as you commanded.”

“Excellent,” Elder Plain said, rubbing his hands together.

The civilians eyes widened when they saw the creature. It was a little smaller than a horse, but it had a low center of gravity and a hard shell. Needle teeth could be seen inside the mouth, which took up most of its body. Small black eyes were set into the top of the shell, and it glared in hatred at the humans around it.

Elder Plain muttered, “this thing seems to function more like a Venus fly trap with legs, than a crab.”

Vin shrugged, he did not know and he did not care, he simply proceeded with the plan. He woke up the beast, though the only noticeable change was the opened eyes. He opened the cage and handed two chickens to each of his men.

While the politicians gawked at the mythical beasts, Vin stabbed the chicken in the thigh wit the crabs stinger. The chicken squawked, and there was a slight bulge where the egg sat below the muscle. He brushed the feathers down and the egg was unnoticeable. Nearly fifty chickens later, a merchant took the wagon and left for the Grass Caldera. Another cart was brought in, this one full of rats, followed by one full juvenile herding dogs.

Vin and Elder Plains smiled at each other. Soon, the people of the Grass Caldera would have to submit or be wiped out without the protection of the warrior caste.