Jackal Among Snakes

“Wanted to say…” Galamon looked at Argrave as they watched the oasis town, far out of sight. “You’ve gotten tougher.”

“The hell does that mean?” Argrave asked, worried at Galamon’s praise.

Galamon shook his head as though telling Argrave to calm down. “You used to never stop complaining. Couldn’t bear the sight of blood. Hated physical work. Different, now.”

“Not my choice, believe me,” Argrave turned his head away. “I like soft hands.”

“Regardless… you’re blind to yourself, at times,” Galamon finished.

“You’re still making potions and poisons next time we need them,” Argrave pointed at Galamon without looking.

“…as ever,” Galamon said with a sigh. “Enough talk.”

Argrave and Galamon proceeded openly and honestly into the oasis town of the southron elves. It would be difficult to approach any other way with both of them being over seven feet tall, and they also didn’t come for deceit and trickery. Of late, that was a rare thing.

“Just a reminder…” Galamon began seriously, and Argrave turned his head to look at the elf. “…don’t use the Blackgard name,” he advised.

Argrave laughed once. “Hadn’t planned on it.”

“I’ve been with you too long,” the big elf noted, looking around the town. People were starting to take notice of them, and anxiously moved to act.

“Tired of me?” Argrave kept his gaze facing forward, keeping an eye on developments.

He shook his head. “Used to you.”

Argrave spotted familiar people and kept his eye on them. “So what’s the problem?”

“Didn’t blink an eye at jumping into a pool of water and blood to enter a cave with a dying race within. It’s… concerning, that’s all.” Galamon tapped Argrave’s elbow. “Keep your hands up. Demonstrate we’re harmless.”

Argrave obeyed Galamon’s command, keeping his hands in the air. “I just broke one of their illusion spells. Though… that’s not the least crazy thing I’ve done, I’ll admit. Maybe you can help convince Garm that I’m as all-knowing as I claim to be.”

“He’s seen enough. If he isn’t convinced, my words won’t change him,” Galamon answered. Argrave saw Garm’s eyes move around in the helmet on Galamon’s back, and then squeeze shut.

A great many of the southron elves moved around the oasis, weapons in hand as they moved to confront the two intruders upon their territory. As they came closer, Argrave saw their features clearer.

The southron elves were far distinct from the pale-skinned Veidimen—they deviated far from their ancestors, enough so it was near impossible to think Galamon or Anneliese might be distant relatives to those present. Most notable was their jet-black skin, far darker than that of the southern tribals or other denizens of the desert. Their hair, their nails, and even their eyes were black. Their ears were much larger, and their bone structure was altogether sharper.

The southron elves were a lean and skinny people, and a little taller than the humans Argrave had seen in the Burnt Desert—a couple inches, perhaps, but not to the extremes of the Veidimen. They wore elegant silk clothing matching in color with their skin.

These elves gathered in front of Argrave and Galamon, most pointing a large glaive towards them. They shouted and cried and made demands, but their voices were too many to follow any sort of direction.

Argrave took an uneasy step back, and then called out, “We aren’t here to cause any trouble.”

the glaives in the elves’ hands did not lower. At the very least, the conflict was not escalating. Argrave was content to wait until things settled enough for him to speak, but then he spotted someone he knew quite well walking

a

by a burn. Even still, he looked no less of a warrior as he pushed through the crowd, using his own glaive

cautious distance away from the two of them. With

the warrior Corentin?” Argrave

shifted on his feet, planting his

anyone else matching your description,”

with his glaive. “Who told you

the line of Burgund,” Argrave

not evaporate, it did diminish into a steady caution in the silence following. The Brumesingers hiding in his clothes came out at this moment, and the sight of their long-dead warpets evoked gasps of silence and mutterings from the

said. “And

rubbing his chin. “Well, she said that

Gebicca… why is

the Brumesingers off

at Argrave. “Then it seems you have a reason to be

#####

entered into a large room, seemingly emerging from nothing but the wall. He looked about, and then went to retrieve something. After rummaging through a bag in the corner of the room, he pulled free a black cube, etched

“Dad?” came a voice.

around. “Don’t

with a long, braided ponytail. She wore heavy coverings, likely for dealing with the heat of a forge. “But what’s the matter? That…” she looked at the cube in his hand.

danger. Not an attack. But the

“Then…?” she pressed.

claiming to know Gebicca

else?” she raised her

“Yes,” Corentin nodded.

wore and stepped forward.

the black cube glowing with purple runes. “I’ll find out what he wants, who he is,”

dangerous, dad!” she tried to grab

easily. “And I am a warrior of our great empire. I am here to protect. Protect you, protect the villagers, protect the

empire,”

and then walked to the wall. “Step outside, I’ll tan you on that

mud,” she

too,” he said with angry sarcasm, then

#####

temple rapidly as they waited for Corentin’s return. “Keep thinking about ways this might go

standing just behind Argrave.

with a shake of

Though Delphasium had been a place of marble, and was quite beautiful, this place had a distinct flavor and culture to it separating it

made of silk and wood—the wood formed the frame, and silk cloth stretched tight made the seat itself. It was a little like sitting in a hammock. The center sunk the lowest, while the edges held firm. Argrave’s Brumesingers roamed at

notified Argrave, bringing him to attention. Soon after, Argrave heard the sound of steady footsteps coming up

southron elf’s hand, Argrave straightened his back in the chair