"I have heard that bipedal races enjoy their humor a great deal, but I never imagined that they would be so bold as to send two of their finest jesters to us to see if we were capable of laughing? We can, we do. Though not much, and good as your joke was, I doubt you can top it, so perhaps it's time for you to leave." The Father of the Crags said, his pointy tipped legs tapping on the stone.
At his side, the Mother of the Webs was still struggling to contain herself, her breasts bounced about, hidden behind her flaming red hair and nothing more, until she too regained her control.
When she did, Entoma and Inta were still silent, still standing there. "Oh my, were you serious? Companion, I believe they were serious." She put one hand over her chest as if to see if her heart still beat within. "I thought for a moment that I died of laughter minutes ago, but it seems we're all still here." The sarcasm was so thick and rich it could have been drizzled on hotcakes.
"Yes, we are serious." Entoma ran with the brief moment of silence their common disbelief granted her and began to explain the events of previous years. The war in the west, the emergence of the new religion, the rise of the House Baraja as the herald, and on to the day the Devor made an enemy of the Sorcerous Empire, and the years and years of preparations east and west, which brought them to the present.
The Father of the Crags grew introspective, his claws clicking while he heard her out, and the Mother of the Webs watched intently, staring at Entoma's face while she spoke.
"...And now, here we are. There are some ten thousand death knights ready to storm the Devor, Tlalmok, and Tlachopan, with a demon to guide them. However the planned line of march would pass through your country, and we have no desire to cross your country without your permission." Entoma concluded, and the pair sucked in their collective breath at the mention of the number of death knights.
But though the scorpionman's face was utterly unreadable, the Mother of Webs was an open book. "Show me your true face, Ambassador." She said, and with that, Entoma reached for her mask with one single smooth motion.
She drew it from her face with a boldness that once would have been utterly impossible for her.
"So, you're not quite one of ours." She said when she looked at Entoma's multieyed face.
"No." Entoma answered and then posed herself so as to show the shell smoothness of her legs and arms, and then raised and dropped what looked like hair, but clicked as an insect's carapace. "But I am an arachnid, a hybrid being created to appear human."
The two who stood beside one another as heads of state traded unspoken words through glances. "I see." The Mother of Webs said, her words were clipped and the fingers of her hands tensed a little, "The army you speak of is… unbelievable. Do you really dabble in necromancy?"
The mention of an army of death knights seemed to have knocked some of the 'fuck you' out of the two monarchs but the question of how they ruled was an open one still. 'So little knowledge… I understand Lord Ainz's frustration, it takes so long to train people…' Entoma privately resolved that the next time she was in Nazarick she would personally attend to Lord Ainz for at least a few days before he sent her back to the wider world and the life of an Academy teacher.
She kept herself from diving into reverie despite her wish to think of her King for much, much longer, and answered promptly, "We do. Magic is magic, neither good nor evil, it's all in how it is used, and that includes necromancy."
She waited for the rage and violence, and wondered, 'Should I have held back what the army was… I think I made a mistake… but they were so dismissive of my master I just- did I just fail my mission in the first meeting?!'
Entoma felt her heart ready to rip in half, the stabbing, tearing feeling a physical anguish to her as she sought some possible path out of the looming debacle.
Then she felt the look of Inta nearby, his face said it all, and he mouthed a single word. 'Teaching.'
A meaningless word on its own, she needed several seconds to grasp it, but when she did, it was a bolt of lightning out of a clear sky and it seared her heart whole and let her focus on her next move.
"Forgive me, highnesses, travelers out this way are so very rare, and our Empire is very young. So we know nothing of your people or your customs, perhaps, if it wouldn't offend you, you could teach us your ways so that we may understand each other better?" Entoma suggested, and the tension she felt from the pair on the low platform in front of her began to melt away.
It was the mother of webs who spoke first, "Of course," she said, her torso straightened and shoulders squared, her spider body relaxed, and the stinging tail of the father of the crags dropped a little, no longer at the ready.
'That much is very human. Pride. And finding themselves to be interesting. An eagerness to show off… maybe I didn't ruin everything after all.' Entoma thought and suppressed her urge to sigh with relief.
"Do you find our people so interesting?" The Father of the Crags asked, whether he was bemused or amused, Entoma couldn't tell, but she answered honestly.
"Yes! The pheromone music was like nothing I've ever felt before! The seamless order appeals to me, the cunning use of terrain to make it easy for you to live and hard for anyone to attack, the permanence of the way you live is fascinating!" She insisted, and Entoma meant every single word. She gushed without reservation over the naturally painted walls, the use of pheromone roads, and the way in which spiderpeople and scorpionpeople seemed to share space so seamlessly.
When she was done gushing, the trace of a smile appeared on the Mother of the Webs. "If you are lying about your enthusiasm, you're a better liar than I can detect, and we're in trouble. And I don't think you're that good."
Entoma took a dramatic bow, but said nothing.
"We are proud of how we live." The Father of the Crags said in a noble, kingly voice. His stinger was up but it looked less ready and more like a 'display' the way it hovered above his head like an angel's halo. "The first Father and first Mother of our races learned long, long ago to work together. Our stingers and strength, their webs and hands, each contributes something and we have kept the many crags safe for age after age. Even the ravages of your Demon Gods never came this way. Though we heard of them from a few surviving travelers."
"So you rule jointly, then?" Entoma asked, and the pair nodded.
"One mother, one father, so it has always been." The matriarch replied.
"So it will always be." The patriarch answered. "We manage the affairs of our own races, and come together to negotiate duties when we need the strength of both."
"Fascinating. And the ants?" Entoma asked.
"They have few intelligent ones, most are beasts of burden, the Queen resides in a nesting chamber, only their soldier class is capable of higher thought. And they are simpler than wild trolls. Without our guidance, they would enter into a death spiral and die out."
Entoma cocked her head, and that gesture at least, was understood.
"Their intelligence is not like yours or mine. You are no wiser or smarter or more foolish whether you're alone or in a group, you are you." The mother of webs said, waving her hand toward the visitors. "I assume your bodyguard is the same."
"But not them." The father of the crags answered. "Their intelligence is collective. If they are in too small of a group, they will simply walk in circles, each following the other, until they fall down dead, and as they die, each one becomes less and less intelligent, and less able to understand what is happening. Then eventually?" He clicked one claw in an approximation of a finger snap.
"They are just a pile of bodies." The spiderwoman finished the thought. "It's how we painlessly kill the ones we will turn into food, we put them on treads and let them walk themselves to death."
"Now, can we offer you a tour of our home? And a place to rest after your long journey?" The scorpionman asked.
"Rest, if it is acceptable, would be welcome, and if we could ask for a tour tomorrow?" Entoma suggested.
"If you can't change your plans-" The Scorpionman began.
"Are you really in charge?" The spiderwoman completed the thought, and the two nodded at once.
The scorpionman pointed to one of the guards along the wall, "see them to quarters for the night, tomorrow we will show them the fullness of our glory."
A scorpionman left his place on the wall, turned around, and the stone surface simply 'vanished' as he passed through the illusion.
'That explains that.' Inta thought, and walked through it as well as Entoma followed behind him.