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.”

at you now… that possibility had never entered

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

in the bottles and loading them in. “It’s the

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

said, waving his

was thinking of some ancient traditions the Veidimen have that I might be

a brow in surprise but nodded. “The Veelstron sign, yes. I am surprised you know of it. But it’s only accepted if there are extremely

his satchel. “I’m glad you confirmed, because frankly, I wasn’t quite sure I got it right. I also don’t know how to make the signal. Simply put, you need to head to the ruins to create the circumstances for the… Veelstron sign,” Argrave pronounced each syllable, ensuring

frowned. “What exactly is in

hours, but I’ll skip the details. When their warriors grew old, they’d cover their

hair back. “I am not sure

There’s a seal on the door, but it broke recently—some stupid miners, you’ll find them dead just about

to fight against a tomb of guardians? You

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

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

one's magic. Besides, it’s dark in there. You have

went mute, gaze growing

All of them will wake up, but they’re pretty slow-moving. As long as

chair and sat down. He turned his head

world-ending calamity. It is my duty to

short order. It’s my duty to hold out until then. We’ll parley with the Veidimen, kill the tomb guardians, and then I’ll use this silver

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

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

I said, you’ll be fine,” Argrave hesitantly reached out and touched his shoulder. “I’m more worried about myself. I have to hold out against a

became harmonious for a moment.

guardians are the archers. Those… well,

back over

#####

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 contrasted

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 large enough that the carriage would

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

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 one large braid, dropping behind him

a horse. “There is a

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