Jackal Among Snakes

Galamon set Argrave up against the wall, while the Sentinels behind them lowered the iron gate to the Menagerie. It collapsed against the stone, letting out a puff of dust that expanded out across the empty space. Everyone breathed heavily, catching their breath, yet above it all was a short, shallow breathing—Argrave’s.

Galamon knelt by Argrave. “You have a fever. I can smell the blood on your breath even still, along with… rot. An infection.”

Argrave touched his chest, saying nothing. His chest felt painfully tight, and he couldn’t inhale as much as he normally could. On the bright side, his enchanted leather gear had made Galamon’s pauldrons dig into his ribs less.

Ossian stepped forward, standing just before Argrave’s foot. “I thought you were experiencing some rebound from that display of magic you pulled out earlier, but it seems I was wrong.”

Argrave coughed a few times. “It’s gotta be… pneumonia… though that’s a symptom, not the illness… or is it a…? Can’t remember what it… is,” Argrave shook his head, then touched his chest. “Pain’s subsiding a bit.”

“Pneumonia?” Ossian repeated. “I don’t know about that. I know what you have, though. We call it Redlung—it’s caused by some of the plants in Nodremaid, though it doesn’t bother most people this severely. Coughing blood, pus, trouble breathing… I suspect the physical strain made it worse in this case. It affects mostly children or the elderly.” Ossian fixed some of his matted dark hair, having recently removed his helmet. “This case… it’s quite severe. Probably fatal.”

“Do you know how to treat it?” asked Anneliese, urgency evident in her tone. Garm stayed silent in her hands.

Ossian nodded. “The B-rank healing spell [Cure Disease] suffices.”

“And you have a B-rank mage,” Anneliese pointed at the woman in question. “If this is so common an issue, surely she knows the spell…”

“She does,” Ossian confirmed with a nod. He placed his hands on his hip, moving his sword further back on his belt.

None made any moves, standing around Argrave in silence. Anneliese pointed to the woman once more and said, “So, why are we letting him stay like this? Please, treat him!”

Ossian pursed his lips and stepped away from Argrave. “I can have him treated… but I have some conditions.” He turned his head back.

Argrave lifted his head up. “Oh, yeah?” he asked, some vigor returned to him. “Go on, then.”

“You would have to surrender that thing,” Ossian pointed to Garm. “And moreover, you would have to submit yourself to the Stonepetal Sentinels for judgement. We would give you safe passage back to the surface… and use your deeds in revealing the vampire’s location to us in this judgement,” he said enthusiastically, as though lightening the blow of his words by pointing to a bright side.

“We would keep you under… house arrest, I suppose—not a prisoner, but a detainee. Thereafter, the three of you would be presided over by a council of all the Master Sentinels.”

It broke off into a wet cough. After, he looked up grinning, blood on his teeth. “Can hear the gratitude

other people here with me today would, as well,” Ossian waved around, and his words were met with some nods—they didn’t seem overly enthusiastic, though. “In the Sentinels, though, there are rules and orders that have to be followed, even by me. I can’t simply give you

heart, heh,” Argrave chuckled briefly. “Let’s say, for the sake of argument, I don’t

your choice. Though the Guardians collided with the vampires, this is an advantage that needs to be pressed. I’m going to return to the entrance of the Low Way and gather more of my brothers to

forth. “That’s not right. We have them here—we

said simply. “After some of what you cretins

Sentinel that had spoken. “Attack Argrave or his companions, I’ll kill you myself. Let’s not escalate things without

down at Garm. “I would speak

Garm’s face. He stared back

#####

a distance, planting Garm down in the ground. She was not eager to leave behind the two of them in front of the Sentinels, but she was relatively confident things were not yet at the point of coming to blows, simply judging from the states of

aren’t you?” asked Garm,

she corrected. “’Snow elf’ is what humans call

traditions—honor, contracts, loyalty—they remain

“They do. I

one that each and every one of you is willing and able to discard. What happens to me is beyond my hands… not that I

like this might happen... only… it doesn’t

on the best of terms with your group. The idea of going with them is not ideal for precisely these reasons. The way

for so long, my thoughts not my own, and only now have I regained them. I am not one for giving up. I am destined for greatness. I always have been,” Garm said with utter confidence. “Were I to

is more important than you,” Anneliese said bluntly. “If

him at the center of things… like some kind of sinewy

“What are you—”

Anneliese. “I can help you learn this B-rank spell. I know it—I’ve used it. I might even use it on Argrave, had I the capability—alas, I am but a head on a stake, and my capabilities

took a deep breath and looked back towards the group. “I understand where this is going. You mentioned contracts, loyalty, at the beginning of this. What would you expect in return?” she looked at

in his head. “But yes, you are right. I want you to ensure my life. I want you to take me with you out of this hellish place and ensure my continued existence. I was great, once. I will be great,

looked down at Garm. “You merely

no delusions about this,” Garm shut his eyes. “But as long as I continue to stay alive… there will be an opportunity. Especially so with people as… intrepid, shall we say, as you three. There will come a time when you need my knowledge once more. And

waited patiently, staring up at her. She turned her head back. “I cannot decide this alone, you realize. This is Argrave’s life we