Imperium Formicael

Prologue: Word of a New World

Imperius standard date: Year CCCLVI, Month I, Day the first VIII.

          Location: Imperial birthing nursery.

          As the queen looked at her new egg she had just laid, she grinned. Her third legion had found a fishing vessel belonging to an unknown group of humans. She had barely interacted with them, even in her one hundred and fifty years of life.

          Humans were a mystery to her. Her people, the Imperius had conquered the elves, dwarves, and the Dimn. They had only just started to expand toward the northeast, and already faced stiff resistance.

          But her own people had to retreat. The stiff winds of the winter stopped her people from making nice and safe Nurseries in their settlements. The humans’ people were tall, and strong against the cold. She wanted them incredibly badly.

          She had decided to attack fire with fire. She took one of their supposed demigods and mated with the tall and powerful male. After he had given her his seed, she slayed and ate his flesh. That was what one was supposed to do.

          Next, she mated with her second seed donor as she needed a second source to make stable eggs. When she was done with him, she elevated him to the position of praetorian guard captain. He had given her child after the first try and that was worthy of praise.

          But getting back on track, she was going to take that land to the southwest, and she needed a new daughter to start that. The next fifteen months her newest daughter would be born and trained on what to do with the duty was to be given. The north was too dangerous, but the south she was familiar with.

…

          Imperius standard date: Year CCCLVI, Month I, Day the first VIII.

          Location: The pub called “The Groggy Dwarf”.

          Marious was packing up his establishment for the day after he had heard the news of the new imperial princess being born. Of course, she wasn’t to hatch for another fifteen months, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that he was going to celebrate his brother’s acceptance into the seventh legion.

          While all drones were related, they couldn’t become inbred unless they became legionaries. So, while his parents were technically both cousins as well as siblings it didn’t do anything bloodline wise to his brother or himself.

          Drones could interbreed with each other as it would be just plain inefficient for the empress or her daughters to produce all of the drones they needed for their vast empire. So, hence drone breeding.

          He looked at his two slaves, a dwarf, and an elf, as they cleaned the floor. The pub was named after a tale when the dwarf was still new to his ownership. He had stolen a keg of jelly mead and gotten rather blasted. Marious and his elf had laughed at his expense for days after that.

          As for why he hadn’t gotten rid of the dwarf, he was simply too expensive to get rid of. There weren’t many dwarves as they had fought the empire’s legions till the majority of them were completely dead and gone.

          This dwarf was in fact a veteran of that war. After all, that war was only fifty years ago. The dwarf was still somewhat salty about that, but the elf was only fifty-five years old, quite young when compared to his kin. He didn’t remember the subjugation war against his people, nor did he care.

          “I still don’t understand why you are celebrating getting into that legion of yours. Everyone gets in, and don’t even start on not being able to make actually sound children,” the dwarf spouted.

          Marious looked at his slave, then shrugged. That was a very reasonable question and there was no good answer. But the elf still chimed in.

          “I think if there is any good reason to party, it should be taken. Also, master congratulations on your brother’s entrance into the seventh legion,” he told his master.

          “Thank you Krass’Tael,” Marious answered back.

…

Zogsalken

I think this story idea is pretty good. what do you all think?