Jackal Among Snakes

Corentin sat in a group of near eight others, in the same house that he had just had his discussion with Argrave. The other southron elves were grizzled, scarred warriors just as he was—obvious war veterans. They were in a loose circle, some standing, some sitting.

“So, just as Durran did, this new arrival claims to have met my daughter?” one asked, a man with a missing nose.

“Yeah,” Corentin nodded, looking out towards the door. “Same tale as Durran, too. Gebicca was crushed beneath rocks. Same accounts. Only difference…” Corentin turned his head back. “Argrave brought Brumesingers with him. Seems to have tamed them, too.”

The warriors all looked greatly intrigued by this. One, who leaned against Corentin’s wall, asked, “How?”

“I don’t know,” Corentin shook his head.

“You didn’t ask?” the man pressed.

“What am I, a damned interrogator? You ask him,” Corentin crossed his arms and shook his head.

“What good are you, old bastard?” the man with the missing nose asked.

“Least I can still smell things, Morvan,” Corentin returned with a laugh. “You go outside, that cavity you call a nose fills up with sand. What kind of desert warrior loses to sand?”

Some of the others joined the man in laughter.

“You one-eyed prick,” Morvan leaned forward, a smile on his face.

“Let’s stay serious,” another man interjected—though he seemed the oldest, he was the least scarred. All of the others heeded his words at once. “Save the banter for when we don’t have an unexpected visitor. This man, Argrave, claims to be working with the Lord of Copper. This deserves serious treatment.”

Corentin raised his hands. “Of course, Florimond.”

Florimond looked about. “What is he doing right now?”

Someone stalked to the door of Corentin’s house. “Looks like… he’s letting the Brumesingers play with the children.”

That brief little description immediately made everyone stir.

“Either he’s not a bad guy, or he’s damned good at tugging the heartstrings,” Morvan shook his head.

“This is someone working for the Vessels,” another warrior posited. “With the intent to betray them, too. Maybe he’s a paragon. Maybe he’s a good actor.”

That sobered some of the warriors up, and their smiles faded somewhat.

“But what he’s saying—that the southern tribals are going to attack with the help of the Lord of Copper—it does match with what Durran told us. Everything matches,” Corentin ceded.

“Did you tell him anything about Durran? About the proposition the man’s made to us?” Florimond questioned.

“You think I’m stupid?” Corentin put a hand to his chest. “I kept my mouth shut, tried to let him say his piece.” Corentin lowered his hand.

“And that warrior with him?”

type of guy I’d avoid on the battlefield. Strong, tough, hard. If a man like that would follow

from anything, craven

damned giant and tell me how brave you are,” Corentin gestured towards the no-nosed elf. “His hand’s bigger than your head. Maybe that’s not saying much, considering how small the brain inside

his chair, shaking his head with a grin on

to this guy?” Florimond looked

would we?” Corentin

I do think we need to hear more from him—ask questions, work

this ‘grand plan’ of his,” Morvan raised his hand. “Doesn’t matter if he can manipulate the Lord of Copper if he’s a drooling imbecile.

this, because it’s just conjecture on my end. I brought this,” he pulled out the black cube with glowing purple runes on it. “He kept his eye on

have told him,” Florimond

girl, but… too young,” he shook his head, then lowered his gaze to the ground. “Too young,”

though to comfort the man’s loss. Someone patted him

me by staying quiet,” Morvan finally broke the silence, shaking his head. “Keep talking, you

the room chuckled. Florimond heeded Morvan’s advice, continuing, “So—we ask him questions, try to get a clearer

said the

#####

travel strangely in this place. I can hear nothing,” Galamon shook

help with

The Brumesingers dashed about the open area like little balls of lightning, the southron elven children

like

“No,” said Argrave immediately.

down. “You

shrugged. “I don’t want to deal with other people’s children. Nephews, nieces, et cetera—that’s tolerable. Otherwise, forget

“Sons, daughters?” he pressed.

and shook his head. “Wrong time

control where the

Argrave crossed his legs. “End

wasn’t ready,

a question. Before he could ask it, he spotted a decent crowd moving towards them. The old warriors of

injuries… these men are full

skilled?” Argrave questioned,

Galamon

told Galamon.

keeping an eye on them as

old veterans was quite a gruesome sight, but strangely, Argrave could not bring himself to pity any of them. They seemed too proud to be pitied. Some were missing

nervous, facing them all. The Brumesigners, either sensing his nervousness or simply tired of playing with the southron elf children, rushed across the

must be Argrave,” Florimund greeted. “And those creatures…” he eyed one of the Brumesingers, who kept their golden eyes on the southron elf

“You must be Gebicca’s father,” he stepped

his hand. He was

the thought, presuming that the man had time to process his grief since Corentin had informed him… but Morvan definitely wouldn’t process it to this point, and especially not

known. He’s known for a

that Morvan had been informed a long time ago. The southron elf locked himself away for a week in ‘Heroes of Berendar.’ Considering everyone else’s personality had remained the same,