They did.

  The being almost couldn't believe it, as it looked around from its convenient crack in the ground.

  There may have been a few close calls with the guards coming up and down with their cargoes of bodies, but they'd always given up before coming close enough to finding it. And the few passing patrols that had been alerted by the clutter of spikes in its bags... they never managed to raise the alarm.

  It really should have taken the time to gather some more tendon and bind these things together! Never again! It was going to put so much more crafting material in there, on its way out...

  In any case, it should be done way before anything realized a few guards were missing, if it got a move on.

  After confirming that its sneakiness was still in full force - and that there wasn't some gigantic patrol or worse waiting for it at the exit - the being emerged from the cave right at the base of the outcropping.

  The only obstacle now was another, little channel of filth flowing from further up. One little jump and...

  Straight from the source, though? This must be much more potent, judging by the disgust it invoked. Alas, all it bags were full. ...But if it emptied some of the lower quality ones, then-

  NO! What it had was already more than enough and this was really not the right time! In fact, it'd better leave even these bags here at the base. The climb would be difficult on its own: clearly the guards had sculpted the structure to be as unassailable as possible, and there would be much more scrutiny up there. Staying hidden would be hard even without things hanging onto its back and banging loudly.

  Reluctantly - so very reluctantly, and with supreme care - the being laid down against the rock those of its bags that wouldn't be immediately useful.

  In one jump, it easily went over the filth and a good way up the climb.

  Then, much less burdened, it made surprisingly easy progress: now that there was no more filth that kept it, these dexterous fingers were proving to be really efficient at climbing. The being could almost see itself having fun with the activity!

  ...did that mean its body had just adapted to climb better? Because it did feel just a tiny bit easier.

  ...

  Of all the useless things to specialize into!

  Separated as few others were, the lookout kept careful watch on the first line of defense below and the assigned surrounding area. A rapture was nearing, and most drones would not survive - the lookout among them.

  The greater whole needed to prepare for survival, unbothered.

  No distraction was allowed.

  Another breach into the perimeter might impair procedures enough to compromise long-term efforts. According to background distress signals, urgent enough to pierce through this degree of separation, the possibility wasn't remote.

  An immense threat roamed the surroundings. And an immense opportunity.

  If they were one and the same or different things entirely was hard to determine when the findings kept getting cut short, the drones sending them always dying before they could clarify.

  Whatever the truth, it was a matter above the lookout - that for its part shouldn't even have enough awareness to consider it. One way or the other, subduing that resource would need the centerpiece's direct intervention.

  The only thing that could be done was to stay alert. And the lookout, as all drones assigned to the same task, was always extremely alert.

  For that reason, when there was a disturbance at the very edge of the watchtower, it didn't hesitate and immediately went to check. Looking down...

  it found something confusing enough that a distress call should be sent to the greater whole, to establish a channel and request superior expertise.

  No quintessence could be felt. And yet the shape was undeniably that of a resource, if one hard to focus on. An incongruous pair of statements.

  Further, this didn't align with established behavioral patterns for resources: they should be agitated when scrutinized by a drone, unless they believed themselves hidden. But not even the most insignificant, dim-witted resource - if this was indeed one - would believe itself hidden when hanging so clearly out of place on the treated, smooth surface of the watchtower's wall. Big and gnarly and of a different pigmentation than its background.

  Eager to discover more information to send for examination, the lookout reached down with its spear, to poke--

  A hard tug threatened to wrest the weapon from its hand, but the lookout's ingrained behavior triumphed and it held firm, even as it was yanked off the ledge entirely.

  Even when the spear started to shake, yanked this and that way, threatening its grip, the lookout held firm. Even when the spear hurled its body, slamming it against the watchtower's wall again and again, it held firm.

  Until finally the unknown force raised it smoothly back towards the ledge.

  Only to yank downwards much harder than before.

  This time, the lookout didn't hold firm.

  As it fell in an arc towards the swarm of resources below, about to be swallowed, the lookout's individuality rose with the distance from the whole, enough for it to discover regret. Regret that it hadn't been more cautious, and that none would know of its demise and raise the alarm.

  The being hurriedly hoisted itself up the rest of the way, took off its bags and threw them distractedly towards the center of the outcropping as it crouched down cautiously and took a look around.

  It would need to be far more careful than expected.

  Somehow the thrower had pierced even its prized, improved, perfected stealth! Surely, the guard must have struggled very hard to do so - most likely resorting to the whisper in some sneaky way - but even such a small fault in the technique was worrying.

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  Truly, it should've expected that they would learn... They must have come up with some trick, or even adapted after it had eluded the knight as the frog!

  And though its incursion remained undetected by the looks of it, taking out the thrower had been much louder than planned. Already, guards might be silently making their way over.

  But, by that time, they would have other things to worry about. Many more!

  Close to the center of the outcropping, appropriately close to where its bags had landed, there was some sort of puddle, made of what looked like congealed filth, apparently bubbled up from below. Much less repugnant in this form, but still carrying hints of that distinct, offensive stench. Though that might be the little bag of the stuff it had carried along...

  Stuck in the puddle, as if they'd grown out of it, was a treasure trove.

  Spikes. So many spikes!

  And the being intended to put them to good use. There was so much it could do with all this... If it managed to hit its target, in the first place. The line was pretty far, now that it looked from up here. It had never thrown anything that far, not with any amount of precision.

  But maybe height would help? And it didn't have to hit a specific guard, only enough of them!

  So it grabbed for the meanest looking spike - which slipped out of confinement with a gross squelch - and picked out the guard that looked most hateful from up here. Taking careful aim, adjusting its body and drawing from everything it had learned, the being threw...

  and missed. It even lost sight of the projectile in the commotion, which would make adjusting the trajectory all the harder.

  Well, that was disappointing. But the hoard it had requisitioned allowed for many more attempts. It would surely get one the next time!

  After going through the motions again... the being really did hit a guard, and with a clean, deadly shot! Not the one it had targeted - not even close - and another was already stepping in to replace the loss. But it was a success nonetheless, and would only get better with practice!

  So, as it had done many times before, it simply focused on the task.

  Even if most spikes missed quite wildly, a good number struck true, and that number was only getting better.

  Grab spike, take aim, throw. Grab spike, take aim, throw. Grab spike...

  Unfortunately, pretty soon its questing hand closed around nothing, no matter how much it waved around. And a quick look backwards revealed the horror.

  There were no more spikes in the puddle. And the line was still... actually, it was in quite a sorry state, wasn't it?

  While the being had focused on aiming, the damage it had inflicted had quickly added up, and now the guards were really struggling to hold.

  But would that be enough?

  There was a continuous flux from above bolstering the barrier and while even that didn't seem to be enough - for every point they reinforced, another kept folding - there was a huge contingent incoming fast, almost as much as the entire line. When they got there, the frenzy would inevitably be pushed back, and they were only a few moments away!

  With heavy, deep-seated regret, the being reached for-

  A big ram - the champion the being had sorely needed - finally broke through, opening a breach so huge the line couldn't reorganize fast enough. The swarm surged after, overwhelming them in an instant.

  Marvelous. The tragedy had been averted!

  The being wouldn't have to waste any of its own, precious spikes!

  It admired the spectacle, as the swarm rushed upwards, filling the entire trail with murderous flesh, annihilating the inbound contingent without even slowing down. Alas, the guards had already set up another line further up, and would soon stop the frenzy once again. Just like they'd done back then. But that was already accounted for.

  The being only needed to move to the next outcropping and help the rampaging creatures break through again: the closer they got before the knight showed up, the better. So it gathered its things and got moving. If it found enough spare spikes up there, it should probably try to snipe other lookouts and important-looking guards, too.

  Just as the being finished climbing, that terrible sound finally blared out.

  Distractedly, it reached up and threw the lookout off the outcropping without even bothering to liberate it of its spike, and hoisted itself the rest of the way. It rushed towards the opposite edge, ready to take aim... but was forced to lower its arm.

  The knight was already swinging. It must have hurried while the being skulked its way over here. Trying to help the throng any more right now would only attract its attention too early, and that wouldn't be ideal. Honestly, the being was quite happy with what it had achieved already: helping the little things break through so many lines was already beyond its wildest expectation. At this point, it wasn't a matter of pushing forward as much as analyzing the situation in order to gain every advantage possible.

  This certainly, obviously wasn't stalling.

  The being had gained so much more raw power, finesse, and versatility, since it had last been the frog. And then there were its multiple bags of tricks that allowed it to fight and approach situations in ways unimaginable before. If it could fight the bison as it was right now, it would win.

  And yet, watching that titanic strength, that efficient brutality down there...

  And mostly the whisper. The barbed monstrosity it formed around the knight was even more menacing from here, and the thought of getting even closer... Worse yet, it didn't stop at the surrounding guards: the vast majority of those barbed threads - which had been hidden when gazed upon from the valley - actually went back to the castle, filling the entryway. Perhaps to the hordes of guards hiding in there, or to something more sinister...

  Pretty creepy stuff. And it confirmed that there would be no sneaking past the knight. This fight was going to happen. So better approach it in the best way possible.

  With its sneakiness and the frenzy below distracting the guards - and hopefully the knight too - the being should avoid getting ganged up on. It wasn't as sturdy as the bison after all, and didn't fancy its chances if they all started pelting it with spikes from every direction.

  Then there was the knight itself. Even with its allies tied down, if the being couldn't contend with it one on one, this would fail.

  A spike through the neck from a safe distance didn't feel like it would be enough - if the being could even hit that area in the first place - but it would surely be a nice start. Ideally, it could injure the enemy grievously that way, and then keep hiding and throwing spike after spike, while the knight was bogged down by the sheer mass around it, slowly whittling it away. But judging by the ease with which it was reducing swathes of creatures to dust, that was unrealistic.

  Most likely, the knight would charge immediately in, and never let go until one of them was dead. The whisper would make it a terrifying opponent.

  If only the being could have gleaned that secret, or at the very least recovered its moves! It would feel much more confident, then. But there was truly no more time to dawdle after ineffable things.

  Something was coming, something terrible. And the being had done exactly nothing to prepare. Even if it wasn't the real objective, the collateral was here, in the castle. The being needed to get inside and find what secrets it was hiding, before it was too late.

  And if it had to go through an overgrown guard to achieve that, then the being would show it what it did to guards!

  Perhaps it would even enter the trance again, during such a hard fight!

  It rushed to gather its bags, while quickly looking around for the most appropriate outcropping from where--

  the dark one vaulted over the edge.

  The being reacted faster than it had ever thought possible, despite the panic. It inverted its momentum and rolled back over the ground, grabbing a spike from the bags while simultaneously shrugging off the ones it had hoisted up - very glad it had left those containing the filth down below, for once.

  All this in one smooth motion: it would need all its speed.

  It also jumped back dexterously, as far as it could from the approaching creature while still maintaining enough distance from the edge not to fall off, readying its spike, its botched moves... even its sneakiness. Anything that could give it an advantage.

  All the while, it berated itself for how simple it had been.

  How could it forget?

  Whatever its nature, whatever its motivations, and ally with the knight or not, there was only one sure thing about it: when the bison had attacked the castle, the dark one had killed it.

  It was approaching slowly, giving the being opportunity to examine it better than ever before.

  It was taller than expected - somewhat taller than the being - but much frailer. No details could be gleaned because the creature was entirely empty of essence, a void in the being's perception. But there was elegance in that frame, and a grace unequaled in the entire world. As if its every movement - from the longest step to the smallest twitch - were guided by a superior principle. Perfect beyond what should be possible.

  The being had no delusion that the dark one reciprocated any of its fascination. Or that it could be fled from or fought off. Even though it had never seen it fight properly, even with the terrible power of the whisper, even if everything suggested otherwise, the being liked its chances better against the knight.

  Still, it would fight.

  Even if it was probably going to lose, with its training and its mane designed specifically for-