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.”

now… that possibility had never entered

with the morbidity. We’ve got to pack. You’ve got to pack. We’re heading to Barden.” Argrave grabbed

eventually moved and grabbed his bag, putting stoppers in the bottles and loading them

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

point,” Galamon said, waving his hands as

ancient traditions the Veidimen have that I might be able to take advantage of. I remember that in case of a snowstorm,

I am surprised you know of it. But it’s only accepted if there are extremely pressing circumstances that require cooperation or prevent conflict. Life comes

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

frowned. “What exactly is in

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 them. Therefore, they’d carry their wealth for all

back. “I am

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

to fight against a tomb of

you take something,” Argrave assured. “Just be sure

not send your illusionist friend? The yellow-haired, short woman. Surely she, with proven

don’t have the normal five senses. They sense one's

mute,

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,”

down. He

had 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

be off to fetch them in short order.

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

same sort of boldness Dras did, I think. He united all of Veiden; you challenge He Who Would Judge the Gods. Both are monumental tasks beyond my ambition. I was proud to serve under Dras; let us see if things are as

worried about myself. I have

atmosphere became harmonious for a moment. Argrave

archers.

back over

#####

road. It was wooden, and though it looked well-crafted, it was unadorned with 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

the carriage continued along the road, the carriage driver brought the horses to a slow, seeing something ahead in the road. It looked like a heap of black cloth, but it was

the knights dismounted and reached over to the heap of cloth to pick it up and throw it aside, but he paused. His back straightened, and then he kicked the cloth. It rolled over, revealing that that pile was actually a

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 were gray and his brows were thick and

one of the royal knights greeted, bowing from atop a horse. “There is a block ahead in the road.

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