Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave’s hand came alive with a spell matrix and a small ball of flame jumped up into the air above his head, illuminating the stone passage ahead. Thorngorge Citadel was distinct from the previous places they had explored. The tomb of metal guardians had been wide and spacious, the ruins hidden within the Cavern of the Lily’s Death had been meticulously carved, but the Citadel was surpassingly simple in design.

A straight cube-shaped hallway stretched ahead. Every so often, iron bars blocked the path. They had been broken, seemingly ripped apart, and the years had rusted them to uselessness. Some of the breaks left sharp points exposed. Argrave could see dried blood on the floor on and near the sharp parts—evidently the creatures roaming the citadel had cut themselves on the exposed metal.

Galamon stepped forward past Argrave, advancing first as he had been directed. Argrave could see his head moving about, scanning each bit of the hallway before proceeding. When they came to the first set of iron bars, Anneliese paused and peered at where they met the walls.

“These bars… they can’t open, nor can they slide out of the way,” she noted. “You called this place a citadel? Why are these bars like this?”

Argrave had been expecting that she would ask some questions and had an answer prepared. “It’s a mage’s citadel. The Order of the Rose had mastery in earth elemental magic. This entire place was built with magic alone. Supposedly, they could build one of these citadels in a day provided they had enough capable spellcasters. Their mastery was great enough to manipulate even metal.”

“I see,” she muttered, her curiosity sated somewhat.

Galamon took his bow off his back and took an arrow from his quiver. Argrave and Anneliese paused, and in the silence, the faint sound of choked breathing could be heard.

“Be sure it’s not just a head,” Argrave cautioned. “Like I said, we don’t want to get the attention of the Dire Eyes.”

Galamon’s white eyes fixed on Argrave briefly, and he nocked an arrow. “I am capable of remembering things you say. You seem to forget this often.”

“I just don’t want any—"

The bow twanged, and a black blur vanished into darkness. A rather unpleasant noise sounded out ahead, and Galamon walked forth. Argrave could only shake his head and follow along. When they finally reached what the arrow had hit, Argrave saw one of the eight-armed head creatures with an arrow sticking right out of its black eye. Its arms spasmed a few times, fingers clenching, and then it grew still.

Galamon put his foot on its forehead and pulled the arrow out. Argrave stepped back so that none of its viscera would land on his shoes. Galamon cleaned the arrow and then proceeded onwards. The hallway began to slope down ahead of them, but Argrave’s steps were confident. Galamon glanced back at him, brows furrowed.

“What?” asked Argrave.

Galamon shook his head, and then proceeded. The hallway levelled out again, and ahead of them finally opened up into a room. Galamon stopped Argrave with his arm, staring into the darkness beyond.

“I see one of those… heads… that you mentioned,” he said.

pushed his arm away and replied, “Then you know what not

him. The light of his spell illuminated some stone bedframes. The mattresses within had rotted away to nothing. When the light of the spell fell upon a head on a spike, sound filled the

with its rattling, dry growl interspersed with snorting. The sound echoed against the stone walls, filling the place with sound. Such a thing might’ve worried Argrave, but he knew most of the creatures in this place were deaf. The few that could hear were incapable of coming to

decrepit canvas blanket and draped it over the head, and the sound faded somewhat. He turned

Argrave spoke loudly above the din, wiping his gloves clean of the dust on the blanket. “This first level has the soldiers' dormitories. The non-mages would sleep here. Rather kind of the Order to place them

took uncertain steps forward, eyes locked on the head still

perplexed.

things…” she trailed

These things probably should make him uneasy. That said, of every dungeon type in ‘Heroes of Berendar,’ abandoned citadels constructed by the Order of the Rose were likely the most common. They were

of his hand. After all, [Electric Eel] was one of his favorite attack spells, and this was one of the

than capable of confronting anything within. What’s there to be fearful of?” Argrave concluded, thumping the screaming creature’s forehead. Anneliese stared at it as it growled beneath

I envy

It proceeded onward for a short bit, and then opened up into a curved hallway going left and right. Argrave knew from past experiences that these two paths formed a ring containing

pause, Argrave heard a faint noise. After it repeated, he recognized it as a whisper. On the inner wall of the hallway, there was an empty space acting as a window into the portion beyond. Anneliese walked past him, leaning down and gazing into it. Argrave followed after her, staring out

the one they looked out of. The source of the whispers dominated most of their vision,

given life. Their black-and-gold eyes were beautiful and decidedly feminine, and each blink was exaggerated by large lashes. Their mouths would open at times and whisper haunting phrases that Argrave was well familiar with; calls for help, calls for death, questions of where and what they were… even expecting this, Argrave

her shoulder, and she flinched slightly. “Take it easy. Those things can’t move. They’re one of the least

though trying to reassure herself. Argrave turned her away forcibly, leading her away from the inner wall. Galamon stared out beyond, expression

rattling her. There’s something else at play… that, or I underestimated the psychological impact this place might have, Argrave reflected. He bit his lips, thinking, and quickly made a decision. “Alright. Let’s hurry this up. Galamon, this way,” he directed, placing Anneliese on the side opposite the inner wall and hurrying Galamon along

was much faster than it had been before, but Galamon still maintained a cautious pace, pausing only to dispatch some of the eight-armed creatures lurking on the walls or ceilings. The Tasmanian devil-like screams of the disembodied heads filled the halls, setting the mood tenser yet. They wound around

quite reticent during this time, focused more on the path ahead of her than the things around

in the central room pierced the stone of this floor, some rose-faces exposed in the hallway. It was difficult to avoid their voices. Argrave made sure to proceed past them quickly, but sometimes they were directly above or beside

a room that had a wooden door—an oddity, considering most other places

There’s a great hulking creature within. It’s rather unobservant, but it’s quite powerful. If you shoot one of its legs, it should be largely

set the bow aside for the rest of my life,” Galamon said, weighing his

observant, so you can expect the first shot to be

wrist and pulled his hand away.