Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave stood at the edge of the Cavern of the Lily’s Death. The dirt beneath his feet was loose, and his feet sunk into it like beach sand. Some of the soil was still damp with the poison they had poured over the entrance. He wore a full set of leather gear with long sleeves, but it still did not feel protective enough.

“Jesus. Everything on me is going to get dirty. I hate this,” Argrave waved his hands about as though trying to shake off bugs.

“You want to lead?” questioned Galamon, standing close behind him. As per usual, the elf wore his black armor alone, even with the gaping hole in its torso from the battle at Barden. His greatsword, axe, and bow had been set aside, and he carried only his dagger at the ready in his hand.

“Why would you even ask that? You can probably smell these things fifty feet away,” Argrave said indignantly, only to spot a faintly amused smile on Galamon’s mouth. It was perhaps a fortune the Veidimen helmet’s design exposed the mouth, or Argrave might never have noticed he was joking. Argrave prodded the elf’s shoulder in irritation. “Alright, enough with that.”

Anneliese looked about the fields of white and red, expression unbothered. “The fields are littered with these Lily Lurker’s bodies. I cannot say for sure that we will proceed unimpeded, but… it is certainly the best we can do in such a timely fashion.” Anneliese crossed her arms as she thought, and then she pointed to Argrave. “If you wish, I might break the druidic link with my pigeon and instead contract with a mole or other such subterranean animal. We can scout out the cavern in great detail before proceeding.”

“Not worth it. Any creatures still living will move, and I...” Argrave cut himself off from mentioning that he vaguely remembered the layout of the cavern. Anneliese had been asking pointed questions; he could not give her any more hints. Although… what am I afraid of her learning?

“We do this now, most of them will still be in the frenzy that Anneliese and I dealt with a few days ago. Because of the rattling tails, they’ll be easier to find ahead of time, though they might be bunched up in the cavern…” Argrave stepped forward and peered into the cavern. “…in which case, Galamon will step back, and Anneliese and I will deal with the issue with magic.”

Argrave took a deep breath and pulled his gloves tighter, dismissing his thoughts before he distracted himself further. “Whatever. Let’s start before I talk myself out of this. I’ll keep a spell up for light. Don’t forget to cover your mouth and nose, Anneliese.” He pulled up his own cloth before his face, and Anneliese did the same.

Galamon had no such covering. Being a vampire, Galamon did not need to breathe to survive, nor would he actually suffer if he inhaled any sort of noxious fumes. Habits built up over centuries were difficult to break, though, and Argrave knew Galamon made a conscious effort to breathe to keep in touch with the time he had been alive.

Galamon stepped ahead of Argrave without hesitation. He found himself envying his elven companion’s confidence, but Argrave only grit his teeth and followed close behind, ducking into the fortunately spacious entrance. To Argrave’s great displeasure, the mushiness of the soil only grew worse as they lowered further beneath the earth, and light quickly faded before Argrave cast a simple fire spell to replace it. Distant rattling echoed out from the cavern as the sounds of the outside faded.

Their party stepped around innumerable insect corpses as they trudged deeper into the underground. The light of Argrave’s magic reflected off the white exoskeletons brilliantly and so they were not especially difficult to avoid, but the sheer number of them made Argrave uneasy. Most of the path was wide enough for them to pass through easily, but at times they had to duck or slide to avoid a low ceiling. The air was dank, and Argrave could feel his skin sticking to his leather clothes. He was undecided if it was sweat or the moisture in the air.

The echoing rattling grew louder with each step deeper, making Argrave’s blood pump faster as his nervousness grew. Then, when the noise was unbearably loud, Galamon would lunge forward and stab before Argrave could even spot the danger. This game of anxiety repeated what seemed to be indefinitely; a constant rise and fall of nerves.

As the three of them proceeded lower like this, the smell grew very unpleasant even with a mask over their faces. It was a combination of the poison that they had been brewing and the innumerable other undoubtedly foul things in the cavern: corpses both of insects and eaten animals, the Lily Lurker’s waste, and general stale air.

At times, the path would branch, and Argrave would instruct Galamon on which direction to proceed. Though Galamon shot Argrave a curious look, he obeyed without question. Argrave moved slowly to avoid twisting his ankle in the unsteady ground.

“What is that light?” Anneliese asked, and Argrave jumped a little, bumping his head against a rock protruding from the ceiling.

“Touch me or something before you talk.” He paused. “Now,

the ceiling,” she pointed. “A faint purple trail of light—so faint I thought it was but a trick

said, there was a faint line of purple on the rocks above. “It’s a

those lilies change colors the way they

but let’s cut the chatter,” Argrave said quietly. Galamon paused ahead, and then looked

shadow over his jaw. Argrave could clearly see his fangs in the dark, and it brought back some unpleasant memories for a moment. “Ground ahead is stone. Carved, looks like,” Galamon

dabbed his forehead with the back of his gloved hand, feeling some sweat. “Whew. Alright,

cloth over his face and followed along. He felt a strong sense of relief as his feet hit something more solid than the dirt they’d been treading on before. Far ahead, Argrave’s spell illuminated a wall of taupe

carefully looking around before entering inside.

“Hear that?” he questioned.

listened. “I just hear that damned

from behind—not a single one ahead. Is this out

intently this time, realizing Galamon was right. He looked back into the cavern. “Well, yes… yes it

Strange pulses—sounds like electricity, almost. No rattling, though,” Galamon summarized.

rattling…” Argrave tried to think of what it could mean. He shook his head and pointed forward. “Just stay extra cautious, keep moving as I direct you. We can’t

proper. The first room was large and spacious, held up by four pillars in each corner of the room. The floor was the same smooth taupe stone as could be seen on the walls. Dead magic lamps hung from

and waste occupied much of the room, alongside their corpses and mounds and mounds of dirt tracked in

that they were not in such tight spaces. Galamon walked to the only exit

echoed uncomfortably well. “Follow the left wall

Argrave foremost heard the clanking of Galamon’s steel armor. They passed by innumerable rooms, and Anneliese all but stuck her head in each door, brimming with curiosity. When she paused at one door, falling behind the two of

old alchemical laboratory. While I can tell you all about it

turned from the room, then back. Eventually, she

looks

lip, debating whether or not to answer at all. Eventually, he whispered back, “This civilization was studying a method to

Heart’ is their success—it extracts life and turns it

stolen from us by time and other thieves. Why else would it be a ruin?” Argrave returned. “They died, and eventually this place was forgotten. I don’t know how or why. As for your other question, the Amaranthine Heart was not ever recognized as a success. It took thousands of years for its potential to manifest, after

some rooms that had

to an intersection just as Argrave had directed. Far ahead, a single stairway as wide as the hallway waited. The purple veins of the Amaranthine Heart