Sporemother Drudge

THE SPORELIT DEEP

The gardeners of the royal terraces went into the soil when Malgareth's blight came, and the soil, generous, sent them back up. Sporemother Drudges shuffle the fallen terraces of the Sporelit Deep in rotted livery, tending rows of nothing, matriarchs of the fruiting dark. Each carries her brood in her own hollowed chest and offers it, the way Malgareth taught: freely.

FIELD NOTES