>>43252686>>43252569You begin to have some ideas, moving to collect food and dig out a larger space in which to dwell. Unfortunately, through some god given unfortune, the masters notice. And they are not best pleased, not at all. There is a great rumbling of earth, as the dirt of one of the pit walls crumbles in, and a stone slab rises up to reveal a hallway, containing six or seven, hulking golem like creatures, crafted with odd, stone features and all very well armed. They wade into the crowd, ad what follows is complete chaos.
You all awaken a while later, the door sealed and the golems gone, chunks of your old friends littered across the floor, blood pooling by the gallon, with several hundred of your own kind brutally vivisected by the masters, little to no resistance being offered by weak, pallid flesh. There are two hundred of you left, now clustered together, all awakened and huddled in one of the sleeping pits, cramped, heated and bleeding in most cases, the ichor pooling alongside that of the freshly dead.
As the pit lights up for the day, you can see many myconids nailed into the stone door, a message carved into them that you cannot read, but one that you can all understand.
''DO NOT DEFY US''
Stats:
Population: 200, All Awake
Food: Naught but the gruel poured into troughs in the dormitory pits, now severely reduced in quantity.
Knowledge: None, asides from Farming, Mining, and carrying, and that the masters have no mercy.
Tools: Pickaxes and hoes, unsuited to warfare, but heavy, crafted of an odd, greenish brown material. After the cull, you have an exc essive surplus of old tools.
Network Status: Slightly stronger, feeding from the pools of ichor.
Dwellings: Dugout pits filled with softer, loamish dirt upon which you sleep.