Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave grabbed Anneliese’s wrist weakly. “When I die…you go see Orion. You’ll need his help for the jester,” he mumbled. “After, you should deal… with the war. I think. If you like Orion, help him. If you don’t, help the rebels. You’re a smart… cookie. You’ll do it fine.”

All while Argrave was talking, Anneliese was repeating his name time and time again. He didn’t seem to hear it at all.

“Just remember to get Elenore on your side—she’s the Bat,” he continued, slurring. “After that… the steppes. Go there. The centaurs… and the elves…. You’ve gotta deal with the malfeasance… and the dryads. Side with the centaurs… they’re better. Cooler.”

Anneliese finally shook Argrave, and his bloodshot eyes came to focus on her, open wide in surprise. “Argrave. It is over. You have been treated. You are not dying.”

He stared for a moment, mouth agape. He smacked his lips together, and his eyes rolled back into his head before coming back to attention. “That can’t be right. I feel terrible.”

“Just let him be,” Garm spoke, causing Anneliese to turn her head back. “That spell drains a lot from the one subject to the disease—he’ll probably need to eat and drink a lot before he’s back to working order. Even then… his lungs probably have some scarring. Minor, though, and it should heal given time.”

Anneliese lowered him back into the makeshift bed that Galamon had constructed. Argrave spoke, staring at Garm. “What are you… a doctor? An… anesthesiologist?” he spoke the word incredibly slowly, as though he could barely remember it. Once he laid back in his bed, he shifted. “Shitty hospital bed… I want to go home. The HOBwiki is nothing… without…”

Anneliese looked up at Galamon. “What is he talking about?”

“Doubt anyone could answer that.” Galamon crossed his arms and shook his head. “He’s delirious. Let him be. We should prepare some easily-chewable food for him—crush those berries, dice some of our rationed meat.”

Anneliese leaned away from Argrave, letting out a deep sigh of relief that caused the stress to veritably drain from her face. Her eyes were sunken and bloodshot, with deep dark bags beneath them.

“I hope you won’t forget our deal, sweetie, now that your little friend isn’t one toe into the grave,” Garm spoke from behind her.

Anneliese’s expression tensed once more, and she looked back to Garm. “I will honor that arrangement. And… thank you for your tutelage.”

“Don’t expect more… unless I benefit, somehow.” Garm smiled. “If you think that’s selfish, realize you’re speaking to someone worse off than a cripple.”

She turned her head away and nodded, then rose to her feet. Galamon was staring at her.

“You should rest,” he stated. “Hard to tell time here, but I estimate you’ve gone two days without sleep… your job is done, and now you must come back to form. I will take care of things from here. Nothing will disturb us.”

“But you must be near devoid of blood—perhaps I should—”

“Sleep,” he commanded. “Do not be as bad as him about taking care of yourself.”

nodded. “Wake me should anything happen. You said the Sentinels are still clearing out the lower levels of

least. After what we did, to be extorted

not dwell on it. Everything

#####

home a pet, it’s something like a dog… or a cat, maybe, if

a few small laughs through

recover enough to speak, and she seemed to be glad he was back to snuff. Galamon was off collecting some of those berries from the trees. Argrave and Anneliese sat near

this now?” shot

for thought when the idea was pitched. Anneliese takes the next step on the path of magic, it got me out of debt to the Sentinels… good enough for me.” Argrave frowned. “How are we… going to bring you anywhere? Not exactly easy luggage. You pass through any

for four,” Garm said bitterly. “Yes, very funny. Mock a head on a stake. Do you mock amputees? Cripples? The mentally deficient? Are you merely a classless man, or has the standard of propriety in Vasquer dropped

taken aback, and he frowned, genuinely considering Garm’s situation. After a time, Argrave looked him in the eyes and nodded.

what’s on my face. If I think there’s something behind me? All

his hands in surrender. “It’s just not going to be easy to bring you anywhere. I’d say we pull out the stake, wrap you up in a… a blanket, or something, but even that… what if brain falls

is it so strange?”

serious?”

their necromantic creations. I knew

now,” Argrave said plainly, finally realizing the culture gap. “After the Order of the Rose fell, their creations started going out of control, and… well,

narrowed his eyes. “That doesn’t make sense. Unless they all vanished overnight, something like this… makes no

answer. Argrave looked between them, then raised his arms up. “Why are you looking

looking disappointed, and Anneliese nodded as though it was the natural course

can tell you about the last thing that I know

his eyes, and Anneliese also straightened her

the Low Way. He called together all of the High Wizards of the Order to the Low Way, in a gathering now known as the ‘Night of Withering.’” Argrave’s gaze switched between Anneliese

the Low Way, trying to push into Vasquer… what awaited them was a river of blood. Everything in the Low Way was submerged

something Grandmaster Astran did. He was a master of blood magic and necromancy, both,”

one knows what happened. Some people say the Grandmaster and the High Wizards both gave their flesh to wash away the invaders with blood strengthened by their own magic. Others say they were a victim of their own project and died in the flood

sacrificing themselves like that to stop a

move again… tomorrow,” Argrave looked to the door of

Anneliese questioned, surprised. “You

on the Unsullied Knife. They'll take it back to their fortress. We can't hope to

you think there’s no other choice.”

mean… it’s a