Aphidus the Hivelord

The creature known as Aphidus the Hivelord has only recently appeared to the Dark Elves, and regards Durham Forest and all within as his property or prey, to do with as he sees fit. While, at times, he has the appearance of an Elf, at other times he takes the form of a monstrous insect, a thing of iron-hard chitin and bone-crushing claws. The latter is his natural form, for he is one of the great beasts that have dwelled and ruled in Durham for far longer than any Elf. Aphidus’ existence first came to light after a brutal series of attacks on several Dark Elf logging expeditions to the Bleakwood, in the northern spiderglens. Until then, the Bleakwood was thought to be relatively placid, thus the attacks came as a shock to the forestry guilds of the northern canopy-settlements. Rangers were dispatched from the town of Redmoss to investigate. None returned… at least not in one piece. The eviscerated bodies of the dead Rangers were deposited on the outskirts of the logging camp of Welt by parties unknown. Each of the unlucky Elves appeared to have been carefully vivisected, as if someone or something were studying them. Necromancy was suspected; the logging teams refused to go out, especially after one reported seeing the enigmatic creature known as Ruel the Huntmaster. Mercenaries were dispatched to force the loggers back to work. Work resumed, though at a slower rate. Attacks against the logging teams became commonplace, with predatory insects being the culprits in every instance. At the same time, the Cult of the Fang gravitated toward the logging camp, bringing more disruption. A few months later, a messenger arrived… one of several loggers who’d gone missing and been presumed dead. The logger was terrified to the point of madness, but otherwise in good health. He spoke of swarms of bone-beetles, blood-wasps, and the great white centipedes that hunted in the upper canopy like wolves all being on the move. Welt, he insisted, was surrounded by a veritable army, and that it and all the settlements of the Bleakwood would soon be destroyed, unless they negotiated. A 'great leader' was waiting at the heart of Bleakwood to speak with the ruling Dark Elves in the area. Though the very idea of this was offensive to the Dark Elf leadership, as word of the incident spread throughout the northernmost settlements, the merchant-lords of Redmoss realized that the only way to maintain their authority and ensure the sanctity of their revenue streams was to meet with this so-called ‘great leader’. An expedition was mounted, consisting of several prominent nobles, including Ansell Grimir, the Baron of Redmoss, their personal household guards, as well as a hundred Crimson Helms, led by Captain Darga Preyk. When the expedition reached Welt, they were joined by a large group of Fang Clerics, who insisted that it was their responsibility to translate for the insects. Baron Ansell, no fool and well aware of the cult’s reputation, agreed. The enigmatic Ruel was awaiting the group on the outskirts of the camp. It was clear to Ansell that the Huntmaster was to be their escort, and they entered the Bleakwood with the eerie wanderer at the head of their party. Many conflicting stories have emerged about the travails of the Dark Elves’ journey; the most common describe how the travelers were shadowed by packs of leafscuttlers and root-slitherers, as well as how Ruel seemed to be in communication with these beasts. The meeting place was an ancient dolmen, its black stones wreathed in thick roots and nests of poison ivy. Waiting for them there was something that resembled an Elf. His skin, where it was not hidden beneath gruesome, organic-looking armor, was the color of insect-bile. His hair was like cobwebs, he greeted them in voice the sound of a hundred droning flies, and his movements were like the scuttling of a scorpion. He bore a huge, stinger-shaped blade that, like his armor, seemed to have been grown rather than forged. The strange being called himself Aphidus and declared himself Hivelord of Bleakwood. He commanded that the Dark Elves leave its confines, and cease their efforts to harvest its lumber. In return, he would personally direct them to more profitable regions for harvesting, and see that they were spared the attention of the insects which lurked there. Ansell and the other nobles huddled together to discuss this. As they did so, more and larger insects arrived. Ansell realized that the expedition was hugely outnumbered. He also noted the odd smile on Aphidus’ waxen face… as the being was not sure how to hold the expression. The nobles agreed to Aphidus’ proposal, all too aware that the creature had them at his mercy. Even so, they could not help but wonder why such a powerful being would negotiate. Ansell, braver than the rest, dared to ask that very question. Instead of answering, however, the Hivelord gave a gurgling laugh and turned to depart. As he did so, he shed his Elven form, revealing a hulking, insectoid shape, like some abominable hybrid of scorpion, centipede, and beetle. Moments later, he was gone, melted into the forest, Ruel with him, as well as the host of beasts that surrounded the Dark Elves. In the months since, Aphidus has been as good as his word. He has even taken the field himself more than once alongside Dark Elf forces, gorily eviscerating enemies with claw and blade, or leaving them paralyzed or writhing in pain as if on fire with his venoms. While Redmoss and the other northern settlements act in public as if the arrangement is a beneficial one, some whisper that a creature like Aphidus would not make such a bargain without an ulterior motive. Even the Cult of the Fang has no answers, but some among them mutter of a ‘great discontent’ among the monstrous inhabitants of the deep forest, and they cannot help but wonder if this ‘alliance’ with the Hivelord is but a harbinger of more dangerous times to come…