Mammoth Hornet
One Mammoth Hornet is a nuisance. Its sting leaves a large welt and injects a small amount of poison that fades within a day. Its black and yellow markings are striking, its fuzzy body almost comical against the scale of the Overgrowth's larger horrors. A lone hornet buzzing past a traveler's ear is an annoyance to be swatted away and forgotten. The problem is that a lone Mammoth Hornet is never actually alone.
The colony lives in a ground-level mound constructed of packed mud, large enough to be mistaken for a natural hill or a collapsed earthen structure. Below the mound, tunnels extend deep into the soil, branching into chambers where workers tend larvae and attend to their queen. The colony numbers in the hundreds, and it operates on a single chemical trigger. When one hornet is threatened, it secretes a pheromone. Every hornet within range of that scent drops whatever it is doing and converges on the source. They do not investigate. They do not assess. They sting.
The swarm comes fast and does not relent. Each sting is individually survivable, but the hornets attack in waves, and the cumulative effect of dozens of stings delivers enough poison to kill an adult. Travelers who accidentally step on or near a mound have seconds to realize their mistake before the pheromone reaches the colony. The hornets do not distinguish between the initial threat and anything else in the vicinity; once the chemical alarm sounds, everything nearby is a target. In the forests and plains where the Mammoth Hornet builds its colonies, the large mud mounds are landmarks to be given a wide berth. The travelers who learn this lesson from observation are the lucky ones. The rest learn it from the swarm.
The colony lives in a ground-level mound constructed of packed mud, large enough to be mistaken for a natural hill or a collapsed earthen structure. Below the mound, tunnels extend deep into the soil, branching into chambers where workers tend larvae and attend to their queen. The colony numbers in the hundreds, and it operates on a single chemical trigger. When one hornet is threatened, it secretes a pheromone. Every hornet within range of that scent drops whatever it is doing and converges on the source. They do not investigate. They do not assess. They sting.
The swarm comes fast and does not relent. Each sting is individually survivable, but the hornets attack in waves, and the cumulative effect of dozens of stings delivers enough poison to kill an adult. Travelers who accidentally step on or near a mound have seconds to realize their mistake before the pheromone reaches the colony. The hornets do not distinguish between the initial threat and anything else in the vicinity; once the chemical alarm sounds, everything nearby is a target. In the forests and plains where the Mammoth Hornet builds its colonies, the large mud mounds are landmarks to be given a wide berth. The travelers who learn this lesson from observation are the lucky ones. The rest learn it from the swarm.
