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You've brought the six strongest survivors with you, the ones with the least stings and the most muscles. While you take care of the drones, they will scavenge anything of value from the village. If nothing else, a little taste of revenge will serve to lift the spirits of the Voss.
When you stride out of the undergrowth and into the outskirts of the village, there are only a couple of thralls in sight. A naked woman with an inflamed scab covering her breasts is dragging along a boy, his lifeless body swollen and purple after being stung countless times. A gangly, wretched man with grey fuzz sprouting from his nostrils and lips goes from door to door, collecting any food that he finds in a basket. Neither of them acknowledge your presence.
You take aim at the woman first and squeeze the trigger. A burst of crimson explodes from her back with a thunderous crack and she falls to the ground. As soon as she hits the mud, the slave's trance is broken and she begins to weep and wail as her body expires. To your surprise, the other drone reacts to this. With one look at the dying woman and then at you, he drops the basket and breaks into a run, though his jaw is still slack and his face is devoid of emotion. Your finger comes down on the trigger again and with another burst of sound, the wretch collapses and starts to sob as he slowly bleeds out.
You're the first one to check each hut before the others rush inside to grab whatever they can, seizing baskets and piling anything that they can find into them. The drones that you come across appear to be looting the village as well, though they're after a different quarry – dead bodies and provisions. You gun them down before they're able to go anywhere with them, yet you can't help but wonder what they're up to.
Once you have arrived at the heart of the village, you no longer have to wonder.
In the very spot where you were introduced to the tribe by Jurvaz, there's now a heap of sodden biomass. Dozens of swollen corpses have been piled high, dead bodies interspersed with spoiled food. Even with less than a day of decay, the stench is already awful and flies have begun to swarm over the clammy mountain of meat, paying no heed to the rain. Beside the macabre mound, five drones crouch over a fallen tree, which they cut and scrape at with crude stone tools. Thanks to their efforts, the trunk has begun to look rather like a demonic face, grimacing at the sky.
Once more, you take aim and fire. With the crack of gunfire, one of the thralls falls to the earth and lets out a baleful scream. The others look at their fallen comrade and then at you. Another squeeze of the trigger and another falls, moaning and weeping. The remain three launch themselves to their feet and begin to run, only for you to follow them with your sights. With one loud pop and then another, two more drones fall face first into the mud.
