Enter the Changeling
Chapter 2: Exploring the deep, and discovering the village…
I settled into a new rhythm. Time was, difficult to ascertain, deep in the perpetual dark, the only light being that created by bioluminescent fungus. I explored, making sure to give other nosk dens a wide birth, the scent of death often choaking the air around them. I discovered that I could dig with ease, my strong limbs allowing me to easily dig through the dirt and stone.
Half the time, I would end up falling into a dirtcarver den when digging, but thankfully, after my third molt, my carapace had become much, much tougher, and I was largely immune to their jaws by now, but it still got annoying having to dislodge them from my carapace one at a time. At least they provided good eating.
After my sixth molt, I felt, powerful. Incredibly so, and I decided to test my might against the ultimate prey of Deepnest. A garpede. So, I began tracking. Tracking down a grapede was not as hard as I expected, the simple beasts incredibly loud in everything they did, and I eventually found a lone garpede, munching its way through a particularly dense section of rock and dirt.
Focusing my power, I called forth an illusion, drawing its attention to come to the surface, the lure of a tasty treat on its simple mind as I sat in wait. It burst through the ground, it's jaws chomping through the empty space the illusion resided in. It halted, blinking its eyes in confusion, as it swiveled its head back and forth, looking for the illusion that caught its attention. I drop down on top of its head, aiming to kill it the same way I killed my first dirtcarver so long ago.
Landing on it, it reacted as expected, immediately trying to buck me off, it's body undulating beneath me as it maneuvered to bring is jaws to bear against me. I held on, my man legs stabbing into segment joints, and jabbed a forelimb into the joint of its neck, stabbing again and again as it tried tunneling forward into the ground. I reach forward with a limb, grabbing onto on of its mandibles, wrenching its head back as I stab forward into its neck, a sickening crack sounding off into the air as my limb pierces through.
The garpede starts thrashing, its body moving in death throws, it's nervous system not fully severed. I withdraw my limb and begin attacking the joint with multiple limbs while pulling back on its head, the joint cracking beneath the assault. After a few minutes, the joint finally gives, and I wrench its head off its body, causing it to let a few last body twitches before going still. I hold up the garpede's head, turning it over, and decide that it will do nicely, as a face.
Cleaning out the inside of its head of its flesh (a small part of me gags, but my instincts push me forward), carving out the insides until only the shell is left behind. Extending my pseudo face, I begin the process of anchoring into it, eye and sent stalks filling in the appropriate spaces, teeth and jaw tendrils attaching and connecting to the mandibles still connected to the shell.
After several minutes of finding the best balance, I stretch the various components of my head, working the mandible joints until I had them down. The shape of the shell provided me with great visibility, a pair of eyes facing forward, while another pair of eyes were situated towards the back of the skull, facing sideways, providing me with a roughly 300 degree field of view.
Once done examining my new mask, I begin feasting upon the garpede's body, draining it of vital fluids, and using my newly acquired mandibles, breaking down parts of its shell to consume, eating until there was scarcely any left. Feeling quite satisfied with myself, I set out for a hiding place to sleep off the meal.
Sometime later, I had a new normal. Garpedes were my new main prey, acquiring new bits of shell to apply to parts of my own carapace, while enjoying the fruits of my labor. I had to reapply the bits of shell I collected when I molted, getting even larger from the continued supply of garpedes.
It was while on the hunt of another garpede, that my senses caught a new scent I had not smelled before. My curiosity piqued, I follow along after the scent, taking in the components of it as I traveled. Within this scent, was what smelled like a sickly-sweet scent of rot, along with a scent I could not identify. It was, different, compared to everything else I had smelled before so far.
Following along, I eventually enter a cave, above a large cavern, where deep below, the scent came from. I channeled my illusion to appear as a shadow to any bugs who saw me, and slowly climbed down, taking in the scents before me. The scent of damp, musty mold, rotting flesh, and ancient silk, filled my senses. As I got closer, I could see a few buildings, but no movement, no light aside from a couple of lumafly lamps, their light dim from age.
I eventually made my way down the cavern's walls, making sure to keep my steps silent, as I slowly checked out the buildings, looking for any sign of life. Most of the little buildings were collapsed, crumbled under the weight of time, but a couple of them stood tall. Checking into each building, I finally find, a new bug I had not seen before. I had known I was living in the world of Hollow Knight, but the march of time of only seeing dirtcarvers and garpedes had gotten monotonous, so I was glad to see confirmation of that at last.
The bug was seemingly dead, their body still. I carefully reached out with a limb, pushing them a bit to confirm, and after getting no reaction, I got close, turning them over to look at them. They were a beetle of some kind, a blunt horn sticking out from their head, above a while mask. The mask had slots beneath for their mandibles to stick out, and the mask was detailed with pair of nostrils over a thin line, with a pair of lines extending down from the eye slots, giving them a somber look.
Carefully removing the mask, I double check to see if they're alive by bring them up to the side of my head, checking for a heartbeat, and find nothing but silence. Setting them back down, putting the mask back in its place, I begin looking over their belongings. They had a ruck sack of some sort, filled with some personal belongings, including some rolled up maps, and a book that must have been a journal of some kind. The writing inside the book was unreadable to me, but I expected that. Looking over the maps, and the other equipment in their bag, I figure they must have been a cartographer.
The maps are reasonably detailed, although I imagine they are probably out of date by now. Checking out the maps, I figure out that the Hidden Village must be above me, far above. I had been mostly traveling down, as that is where the garpedes I'd been hunting reside. This bug, whoever they had been, had succumbed to their wounds after falling down here, if their injuries were any consideration. Their legs were cracked and falling apart, their lower abdomen crunched inwards, while their upper body was mostly intact. The scent of decay was strong around their body, and it appears that no bugs had been here in a long time.
Searching the other buildings that remain, I find a fire-starting kit, a short nail, a spool of old, mildewy silk, and a ratty sack of geo. I release and stitch together a little sling out of my own silk, which is not nearly as flexible as weaver silk I have seen and felt, but it does the job. Stowing the little nail and fire-starting kit, I consider taking the geo, but set it next to the dead bug. The jingling of the geo would ruin my stealth, and I doubted I'd be able to buy anything with it anyway.
After fully exploring the mysterious village, I go to leave, when a chill catches my attention. Turning to see what caught my senses, I follow along the chill's presence, and come upon a soul totem. Looking it over, I lash out with limb, striking it with force. Light blooms into being in the dark, as motes of soul appear, flashing in my eyes before shooting into me, absorbed into my body. Waiting a moment to see if anything happened, I strike again and again until no more soul appears. Narrowing my eyes in thought, I await a few minutes for anything to happen. When nothing changes in myself of my environment, I go to leave, climbing back up the cavern's walls, a new destination in mind.
Some time later, I begin running into deepling's, who scuttle away from my sight when I make myself known. I focus my illusion some more, hiding myself from sight, and continue exploring. It was when I discovered a weaver, stringing up a dirtcarver that I finally realized I was getting somewhere, at last.
Following along behind them as quietly as I could, maintaining my illusion of invisibility, the Weaver unknowingly leads me to the hidden village, at long last. I quickly scuttle up the walls into a darkened corner, taking in the village in all its glory. The village was much, much larger than I was expecting, hundreds of buildings hanging off of and connected to the ceiling by great strands of silk, silk walkways and wooden structures forming paths through the mess. In the center of the village, sat the largest building, a wooden structure surrounded by smaller homes and buildings around it.
All over, weavers and devouts conversed, traded, and moved about their lives. Carefully extending my focus, I began listening in on the thoughts, and began the process of learning the proper language. And it was nice, listening to bugs talk about mundane things, after being alone for so long.
AN: So, Nosk biology is weird. I figured going with a very, alien anatomy, would work for nosks, since their whole premise is taking on the appearance of another, and as such, a Nosk would not really have a true face, their neck ending with an orifice that contains tendrils that have all the necessary bits for using a mask or skull properly. And as part of that, a nosk's size is determined by the available food supply. Most nosks, who aren't much more intelligent than a particularly smart tiger, mostly stick to one area to hunt, and prefer hunting more tasty prey (in this case, weavers). Mikey, who is not interesting in hunting sentient bugs, has been hunting anything and everything that moves that isn't intelligent, meaning his body has no reason to stay small. This has the added benefit of allowing him to hunt garpedes, which allows him to get bigger, rinse and repeat…
Basically, by the time he meets Hallownest proper, Mikey, aka He who Thinks, aka Thinker, will be absolutely MASSIVE for a nosk.
Also, in case it isn't obvious, but Mikey (or, He who Thinks) has no idea of how long he's been in Deepnest, as he has no frame of reference to compare to, and only really had his molts to judge any time from. But, for the sake of convenience, he's been alive as a nosk for roughly 3 years by the time he finds the Hidden Village. There will be some time jumps throughout this story, as a not insignificant part of it involves Mikey just living his life, as a giant nosk.
Speaking of Deepnest, it is much, much larger in this world than what's in the game, the shear size of territory that consists of Deepnest being much, much larger than Hallownest as a whole. Granted, most of it is empty tunnels full of hungry predators, but still. It is kind of like Russia, honestly.
As far as magic abilities, nosk's can enter and exit the minds of other bugs with ease. It's simply how nosk's work, and it's how they create their illusions and disguises, by reading the minds of their victims. Mikey has largely been using his power to be "invisible" to other bug's senses, but it is not fool proof. A bug who is attuned enough to soul, can see through the illusion if looking at it dead on, and higher beings are immune altogether. That will be important later.
And as he's intelligent, he can also make use of both spells and charms, although he has none of those right now.
And yes, I am still working on Enter the Dragon. I already have another chapter of it written up, ready to upload, but I want to build up some more chapters in reserve first before updating it again.
I hope you have enjoyed, and peace out.