Jackal Among Snakes

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.”

never entered your head

dying. Stop being a doomer,” Argrave held his hand up. “I’ll die centuries before you do. Stop with the morbidity. We’ve got to pack. You’ve got to pack. We’re heading to Barden.” Argrave grabbed the satchel and threw it over his shoulders. “Amendment; I am going to Barden. You are going beyond Barden, to a dingy little ruin called... I can’t pronounce

eventually moved and grabbed his bag, putting stoppers in the bottles and loading them in. “It’s the eve of war, and you’re sending me

as 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 if I shout that an ancient calamity is waking up and I need to

the point,” Galamon said, waving his hands as

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 of. I remember that in case

yes. I am surprised you know of it. But it’s only accepted if there

grabbed a few of the bottles off the table and put them in his satchel. “I’m glad you confirmed, because frankly, I wasn’t quite sure I got it right. I also don’t know

frowned. “What exactly is in

a tomb,” 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

hair back. “I am not sure that

broke recently—some stupid miners, you’ll find them dead just about everywhere. From the entryway, you’ll need to head

me to fight against a tomb of

won’t fight unless you take something,” Argrave assured. “Just be sure not to kick anything around, you’ll be fine—I

short woman. Surely she, with proven stealth capabilities, would be

the normal five senses. They sense one's magic. Besides, it’s

went mute,

long as you’re quick, it should be fine. They hit pretty hard, though. Don’t get hit,” Argrave emphasized, pointing. “Might as well

moved to the chair and sat down. He

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

and clumsy. Being heavy is their only virtue. Once the fighting breaks out, you’ll be off to fetch them in short order. It’s my duty to hold out

his head and sighed. Argrave had rarely seen such an expression on the big man’s face. He stood, and Argrave looked up to

you challenge He Who Would Judge the Gods. Both are monumental tasks

“I’m more worried about myself. I have to hold out against a

became harmonious for a moment. Argrave remembered

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

over Galamon’s face once

#####

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

of black cloth, but it

the heap of cloth to pick it up and throw it aside, but he paused. His back straightened, and then

dismounted. He wore a set of white robes, and they concealed a set of black plate armor. His black hair was bound into one large braid, dropping behind him to his knees. His eyes

atop a horse. “There is a block ahead in the road. This will be only