Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave’s legs gave out as his feet sunk into the top of a sand dune, and he collapsed ungracefully onto the ground. As he lifted his face up and shook his head to dislodge sand, a lizard blending in with the surroundings scurried away, heading for the distance. Argrave followed it with his gaze, and far ahead, a great monument loomed above.

“Are you all right?” Anneliese asked, kneeling beside Argrave with genuine concern in her voice.

“Just…” Argrave rose to his knees, adjusting his misaligned backpack. “…exhausted.” He pointed ahead. “You’d think three days of resting while we hid from that damned sandstorm would mean I’d be able to handle a desert hike easily. Whatever,” Argrave shook his head. “I was worried that I got my directions mixed, but… there’s Argent. In the distance. The silver one.”

The land before them was like a great crater in the earth. The black sand dunes of the Burnt Desert faded in way of rocky hills of igneous rock, descending down towards a central point. There were marks in the earth where rivers had once flowed, but they were gone—dried up utterly.

Far beyond, sand dunes ranged once again, and a mountain encircled the sand, seemingly forming a great bowl. A wide waterfall descended down the side of one of these mountains, though it was quickly shielded by another tall peak. Argrave saw a vague silhouette flying about, and after a time, distinguished it as a wyvern. In those mountains lived the last free tribe.

In the center of the crater, there was a fortress city: Sethia. Its gray walls were every bit as grand as Mateth’s, and perhaps even stood taller. The fortifications formed a perfect half-circle around the city itself. Where the missing half of the circle was, three roads led to three high towers, each structure the color of precious metals.

Argent was, as its name might suggest, the silver tower. It was polished to the point where it reflected all around it. The reflection created a strange warping effect on its lower half, while the top half reflected the sunlight, rebounding into the air like a radiant crown of gold. It was surrounded by a wall of the same make as Sethia before it. The walls shielded an estate befitting a kind.

The other two towers, Aurum and Cyprus, varied mainly in their tower’s color. The copper tower, Cyprus, had long ago been covered with patina—its bright green was pretty, yet decidedly lackluster in comparison to the two other towers. Aurum shone as brightly as Argent.

“One of these things is not like the other,” Argrave sung. “What you see now in those towers is a good display of what’s actually happening in Sethia.” Argrave leaned closed to Anneliese and pointed two fingers out, lining them up with the gold and silver towers. “Aurum and Argent shine brilliantly, and control most of what goes on within the city. Cyprus has faded, lost its splendor.”

“The mountains beyond… that is where the last independent southern tribes are?” Anneliese asked.

“Well, yeah,” Argrave nodded, lowering his pointed fingers. “But don’t you worry about that. Keep your eye on the prize.”

“The prize, is it?” Anneliese’s gaze lingered on Argrave as he rose to his feet.

“That’s correct,” Argrave turned around. “We four have to exploit the faction dynamics within the city to get what I need.”

Though Argrave spared a glance at his place atop Galamon’s backpack, Garm did not react to his inclusion in their party.

“Outsiders will have trouble gaining influence,” Galamon criticized.

his back to the city. “When people are down on their luck, they’re not going to be choosy with the hand reaching out

we aid Cyprus, the one that has lost their luster,” Anneliese concluded, walking past Argrave to

ambitious Vessel who wants to recover his faction’s power. He’ll do anything to this end. Argent has the Wraith’s Heart—it might seem counterintuitive to

so long as they’re helpful. They’ll do anything that needs to be done, provided it gets them ahead. I intend…

the city?”

I talked about getting a wyvern, but you might want to

turned him around to face the city. He staggered a little, but she kept him steady and pointed off into

see?” she asked

at three flying creatures steadily growing closer to the city. He didn’t know what to make of the situation. As the wyverns grew closer, he saw many people on their backs. Argrave started walking down into the crater,

landed on the wall around the tower. Someone atop its back threw a sling, and the projectile slammed into one of the windows, shattering it. After, the wyvern craned its neck, and the people atop

whispered, still walking into

is beyond your expectations?” Galamon

“No… No, I get it.” Argrave nodded. “They’re raiding the tower. God damn it,” he cursed, moving a little

moved down into the crater quickly enough that he could not afford to keep his eyes on the raid happening ahead. He watched his footing carefully as he

see over its top. Argrave gave the walls a wide berth, not wishing to draw the attention of any

were not alone in wishing to view the spectacle, it seemed. People emerged out from the city walks, rushing to get a better look at the rare occurrence. Argrave felt that was a fortunate thing, for he did not need to be so

masters of the wyvern. They wore armor made of wyvern scales, each and all beautifully crafted. They offloaded things from the windows, throwing crates and bags of valuables.

Eventually, he saw the person he expected emerge from the tower. A tall man wearing a gray coat of lamellar wyvern-scale armor stepped to the window. His helmet had

was you, Durran,” Argrave muttered beneath

person step up. The man’s shining plate armor stood out starkly beside the tribals, wearing armor of wyvern scale. The newcomer bore

city of Sethia, a mass of water made its way over the walls. The southern

water—a Vessel, undoubtedly—wound its way up Argent until it came to the cone-shaped roof on its top. The water swirled in front of it, and a thin

It swayed, roaring, but managed to rebalance in time to prevent its descent. Argrave could see its blood dripping down into the

around, where Anneliese and Galamon watched with

place

#####

explain things,” said Argrave to his other three party members. They had elected to wait until things calmed down in the city to go inside—being implicated with this happening would be a

his finger on the ground. “I had ten choices each time. A custom-made one, or nine pre-existing ones. Of the ready-made, each was divided into three distinct categories—spellcaster, warrior, or