Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave’s eyes lingered on the man wearing reddish-brown robes slightly behind Elias: Helmuth. Black hair, a widow’s peak, a dour face, and a beard trimmed to a point all lent the spellcaster an appearance of harsh sternness. His eyes were constantly in motion, twisting and beckoning like there was an abyss beyond those orbs. It had been merely another interesting thing when viewing it from the perspective of a player, but now that those eyes were real, it somewhat disturbed Argrave—both their appearance, and the knowledge of what they could do.

It was difficult to distinguish where, exactly, Helmuth was looking, but Argrave was certain he had seen something out of the ordinary, for Helmuth displayed considerable caution gazing upon them. Perhaps it was Rowe, magical titan that he was, or perhaps it was Argrave, possessed of the blessing of a God of Knowledge. Worst yet, it might be Galamon, the vampire.

Regardless, the spellcaster stepped up to Elias’ ear and whispered something. Elias frowned as he listened, and then eventually turned an eye back to Argrave.

Argrave did not know what, exactly, Helmuth said, but eventually Elias looked to him and said simply, “I won’t. There’s no need.”

“I strongly advise against that course, young lord,” Helmuth said insistently, slightly louder. He lowered his voice again.

Argrave turned to Galamon as Helmuth whispered to Elias, conveying to the elf he wished to know what they were saying.

“He wishes to leave,” muttered Galamon beneath his breath. “He believes you are a danger, and fears that you have an S-rank spellcaster in your retinue.”

Argrave nodded, but his question soon turned out to be a waste of time. Baron Abraham said loudly, “I also think we should leave, young lord.” He raised a hand and waved it at Argrave and his three companions. “You said this bastard stopped the Veidimen invasion—why, then, does he keep only their company?”

“Because words are stronger than swords in ending wars,” Argrave supplied smoothly, interjecting himself into things to speed the conversation up. “Things were resolved diplomatically. I was named friend to the Veidimen.”

“Hah.” Abraham shook his head. “More likely you were the puppeteer behind the invasion to begin with. Start something and end something with the same hands, fabricate glory from nothing—not unlike most in Vasquer,” Abraham said, voice low.

Argrave laughed. “Conspiracy theories, now?”

“Baron Abraham, you forget your place,” Elias said.

“Margrave Reinhardt made it clear to me my place was to advise you,” Abraham turned. “And you’re going down a foolish road even conversing with this lowlife. That is my advice to you.”

“Lowlife? You’re not worth a tenth of him, even were your flesh made of gold,” Rowe said provocatively, sparking Argrave’s panic.

“Now, let’s just—” Argrave tried to begin.

“Is that right?” The Baron placed his hand on the pommel of his sword, taking a step forward towards the four of them. “Blade or spell, he’d be dead within ten seconds if we came to blows.”

Argrave felt magic stir within the air and took an instinctive step back. Something rushed from Helmuth’s hands, winding about Abraham like a tetherball. When things settled, it was revealed to be a purple mass of air coiled around Abraham’s body. The knight struggled with it, clawing at it with his hands. Argrave recognized what had happened—Helmuth used the B-rank spell [Tempest Grip]. The spell, a wind-type elemental spell, had been tainted purple by Helmuth’s unusual magic constitution.

loudly, not quite yelling. “You know naught. You tempt wrath beyond your ken, and should you proceed, I

fist, and the spell matrix shining in his hand dissipated. Abraham collapsed to one knee, his legs braced as though the knight was ready to lunge and seek revenge. He stared at Helmuth indignantly, breath quick. Argrave feared that things would continue to

running a gauntleted hand through his messy blonde hair. The Baron walked a fair distance away, refusing

Rowe said. “But they say if a dog has a fault, it’s the

voice tense. “I have an exercise for you—if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t

sighed, rubbing his hand against his face. “Well, since the possibility of an amiable conversation has died on the vine, let’s

Mateth—what happened there? News

people died, all of House Monticci’s fleet was destroyed, the harbors have been entirely wiped out, and

this rumor of you stopping the invasion—how did that happen? How did you repel the snow

named friend to the Veidimen, he was not confident enough to

helped me.” He tapped her shoulder, and after a moment’s pause, she nodded. “Most of

nothing, to Argrave’s relief. Elias sized Anneliese up as she stared down at him. They locked

away. “But I’ve forced a digression. What is it you wanted to speak to

to support

in Elias’ company. Helmuth looked surprised, and he brought his hand to his beard, stroking it idly. The knights

Jast, his vassal, will support Vasquer

the natural order of things,

know

Jast. He confirmed some

where is he?” Abraham

the war to come. It contains strategy,

kept his eyes on Helmuth. He could not be certain of it, for

could still be so annoyingly

said Elias as

“How?” Abraham asked incredulously.

He looked up

you see that. Even still, I can get Veladrien if you doubt me. Would just take a snap of the fingers, more or less,” Argrave emulated the

of unconfirmed identity,” Abraham

man’s stubborn adhesion to his own mental deficiencies is very

said nothing so as not to draw more ire, but internally agreed with the comment. Abraham walked away and sat on a

from entering Jast,” Elias followed Argrave’s logic. “It could be dangerous

would be better suited if Jast came to the aid of House Parbon, instead. Anneliese and