Argrave opened the door to the abandoned house. He was greeted by a harsh smell. Galamon stood at the table, a fire heating up a large glass bottle that had been turned black by the flames.

“Jesus,” Argrave said, coughing. “I forgot how bad that stuff smells. You get used to it when you live next to it, but…”

“You’re back,” Galamon said. “Sleep well?”

“Better than usual.” Galamon nodded at Argrave’s answer, then picked up the glass bottle. He smothered the flames with a blanket.

“This was the last potion. Eight bottles of the calming brew, four stamina-restoring potions. I fixed the Ebonice arrow. It was bent.”

“I presume your leeching session went well?” He strode in, waving in front of his face to dispel the smell.

Galamon looked at Argrave coldly.

“Come on,” Argrave urged, tapping Galamon’s elbow. “Laughing at something is how you learn to live with it.”

The snow elf set the potion down and picked up a cloth to wipe his hands. “It is a curse. An affliction. An illness is no laughing matter.”

Argrave pursed his lips. “You don’t have to sleep, you don’t age, and the only price is a strange diet and heliophobia.”

“I will not rest with Veid when I die. Instead, I will be lost in the abyss.”

“So, don’t die,” Argrave said, then laughed. His laughter trailed to a stop as Galamon’s pure white eyes stared at him like he was a bug. “Well, whatever. If it’s so terrible, once we’ve killed the world-ending ancient calamity, we can cure you. Until then, keep those fangs sharp.”

“Vampirism cannot be cured,” Galamon said quickly.

“Not by you alone. Me? I have my ways.”

Galamon shook his head. “Erlebnis’ method would be costly.”

“Pfft, where'd that come from?” Argrave waved his hand dismissively, then looked around for his satchel. “Why involve an ancient god? There are plenty of ways.”

Galamon stared. “Supposing that is true… you assume I will not die in your fool’s quest.”

Argrave looked at him, pausing. “You won’t.”

you now… that possibility had never entered your head before I

to Barden.” Argrave grabbed the satchel and threw it

the bottles and

I’d like you to hold my hand through these stormy tides, these past few days of reviewing my plans mentally have led me to one conclusion; getting an audience with Patriarch Dras is going to be extremely difficult. I need a little something to turn his head. In the chaos of battle, no one is going to listen to me

the point,” Galamon said, waving his

paused and stared at him. “No, I won’t get to the point. I refuse. Anyway, I was thinking of some ancient traditions the Veidimen have that I might be able to take advantage

but nodded. “The Veelstron sign, yes. I am surprised you know of it. But it’s only accepted if there are extremely pressing circumstances that

I also don’t know how to make the signal. Simply put, you need to head to the ruins to create the

frowned. “What exactly

Argrave said excitedly. He’d finished packing all of the potions and came to stand before Galamon. “It holds some ancient race of elves that—well, I could talk about that place for hours, but I’ll skip the details. When their warriors grew old, they’d cover their bodies in melted metal and trap their souls inside. They’d bury their possessions beside

hair back. “I am not sure that

stupid miners,

against a

you take something,” Argrave assured. “Just be sure not to kick anything

your illusionist friend? The yellow-haired, short woman. Surely she, with proven stealth capabilities,

five senses. They sense one's magic. Besides, it’s dark in there. You have vampire

went mute, gaze

will wake up, but they’re pretty slow-moving. As long as you’re quick, it should be fine. They hit pretty hard, though. Don’t get hit,” Argrave emphasized, pointing. “Might as well leave your weapons out front, barring that axe you've got. Hard to kill them without

to the chair and sat down. He turned his

considered returning the 3000 gold that you paid me. You were fighting against the world-ending calamity. It is my duty to help, I thought.” He pointed to Argrave. “That’s changed. I’m sending it to my family in

to fetch them in short order. It’s my duty to hold out until then. We’ll parley with the Veidimen, kill the

shook his head and sighed. Argrave had rarely seen such an expression on the big

He united all of Veiden; you challenge He Who Would Judge the Gods. Both are monumental tasks

“I’m more worried

became harmonious for a moment.

are the archers. Those… well, I’m sure

back over Galamon’s face

#####

fanciful things. Its most notable feature was a set of statues atop it. It depicted various human figures in saint-like poses. Each seemed to represent something. The modest carriage was contrasted fiercely by an array of gold-armored knights on horseback. They were royal knights, and

It looked like a heap of black cloth, but it was large enough that the carriage would not be able to drive over

it aside, but he paused. His

very large man dismounted. He wore a set of white robes, and they concealed a set of black plate armor. His black hair was bound into

bowing from atop a horse. “There is a block ahead in the road. This

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