Jackal Among Snakes

“Ohoh,” Castro said. “You must be Argrave of Vasquer. A pleasure to meet you. You are quite the tall one,” he commented. “This old man may hurt his neck looking so high up.”

Tower Master Castro stood waiting in front of Argrave’s door patiently. He was like a much more compact version of Rowe the Righteous in that both were old, bald men. Evidently that compaction had removed the terrible attitude, for Rowe would never smile so warmly.

“Just Argrave, no Vasquer,” Argrave corrected. “And you’re Castro, Master of the Order of the Gray Owl,” Argrave continued quickly. “Nikoletta informed me you were looking for me. Beyond that, I don’t know much. Although I have an inkling, I’m not quite sure. Why don’t you come in? I have no refreshments on hand, but you can at least sit.” Argrave stood aside and gestured to the table in the corner of the room.

Castro nodded. “Please and thank you.” He entered the room, noticing Anneliese. “Hello, young lady. Who might you be?”

“This is Anneliese, a friend of mine, a spellcaster from Veiden, and my travelling companion,” Argrave introduced her, walking to the table and pulling the chair back for the Tower Master. He offered the other chair to Anneliese, and then sat down himself in the third. Castro was watching his every move. Argrave could practically hear the gears turning in the man’s head as they put an image of his personality together.

“You have quite the large magic pool. I see you’re diligent with your training.”

Argrave was uneasy at the man’s comment. A-rank mages were more than mere humans—Castro could perceive magic by sight alone. “Indeed I am,” confirmed Argrave as he adjusted in the chair. “So,” Argrave began, putting his hands on the table and entwining them. “I’m very curious why a bigshot like yourself has come to visit little old me. I have an idea, but at the risk of appearing foolish should I be wrong, I’ll wait to hear your answer.”

“You are very business-like, I see,” answered Castro, smiling. “I did not have time to ask her much, but Nikoletta seemed fond of you, and from what I have seen in her time as regent of the Dukedom, she is a person of good character.”

Argrave glanced at Anneliese, but her expression was as passive as ever. “Your point being?”

“Nothing, forgive me. Old men tend to ramble. Perhaps it’s because they like the sound of their own voice,” Castro dismissed, letting out a wheezing chuckle.

Though Argrave considered mentioning Castro’s true age, he kept quiet, not wishing to unnerve the man.

“To the point, then.” Castro leaned in slightly. “Many of the more research-oriented High Wizards of the Order have taken a great deal of interest in the thesis you submitted. If it were to move from theory to practice, what you call ‘Blood Infusion’ has the potential to change the landscape of all magic.”

“I know,” Argrave nodded. “I left the thesis unfinished for that reason,” he said. Argrave could veritably smell the bait he’d hooked to his fishing line. It would be more than enough for this big fish, he hoped.

Castro stared at Argrave’s face for a moment, his expression slowly shifting. “You mean to say that you left out the completed theory?”

Argrave nodded, taking his hands off the table and leaning

already discussing bestowing a grand

Let others feast on the fruit of my labor?” Argrave held his arms wide. “It’s complete, but as a C-rank mage, I can’t yet

a spellcaster to take pride and be possessive of their own work. But the Order of the Gray Owl is supposed to be beyond that, young man.” He tapped his finger on the table. “And further, by saying that it’s impossible as a C-rank mage,

instituted measures to reduce the political influence of the Order of the Gray Owl, trying to turn it into a politically neutral entity. You’re an honorable, just man.

Castro that Argrave knew was just a tired old man who wanted to study magic and be happy. Indeed, if a player rose high enough in the Order, Castro would simply step down as Tower Master, leaving it to the player. Such

said, though it had a casualness that betrayed he was not truly affected by the praise. He’d probably seen many sycophants in

the many privileges offered to me as a member of the Order of the Gray Owl,” Argrave proceeded tactfully. “Once I am capable of proving what I preach, I’ll naturally turn in a more completed version

with a

isn’t all, naturally. Do you know about druidic magic,

snow elves?” Castro

Argrave pointed. “Good.” Argrave stood, moving to the chest of books and picking up some of the ones that he’d set aside

with me are all druidic magic,” Argrave said grandly. “Not half-torn manuscripts or spells wrested from tortured snow elves. Fully documented

at that, eyebrows raised in surprise. “How

of the Veidimen,” Anneliese interjected, finally breaking her silence. Argrave smiled as he caught on to what she was doing. “Our people were willing to offer these

further amplified in the eyes of the Tower Master. Having

deliver some illusion spellbooks by boat at Jast. A small price to pay for bringing a new field of magic to the order, by my estimation,” Argrave tacked on to

illusion books through other means, but this

thinking. “The snow elves were just invading. Now they

words,” Argrave said. “Whole thing… big misunderstanding. This trade is a peace offering of sorts-- an exchange of knowledge,” Argrave said

“I suppose, if those books are genuine, it is

at the table and sat

cannot be touched; instead, the druid tries to bond and form a connection with the natural

Castro half-answered, distracted reading the

all the ones that I’ve mastered,” Argrave lied. He intended to give away only the useless ones. Once he mastered the ones he needed, he would give

book and looked at Argrave. “This meeting