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?”

fellow,” Corentin nodded. “Looked… I don’t know. Probably the type of guy I’d avoid on the battlefield. Strong, tough, hard. If

anything, craven moron,” Morvan crossed

no-nosed elf. “His hand’s bigger than your head. Maybe that’s not saying much, considering how

laughed, and even Morvan sunk back into his chair, shaking his head with a grin on

to this guy?” Florimond looked around. “Do

Corentin

Florimond nodded. “Nothing to gain from that. I do think we need to hear more from

can manipulate the Lord of Copper if he’s a drooling

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

have told him,”

those,” Morvan disagreed. “Smart girl, but… too young,” he shook his head, then lowered his gaze

the man’s loss. Someone patted him on the shoulder, but no words were exchanged—they didn’t

embarrass me by staying quiet,” Morvan finally broke the silence, shaking

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

the entire

#####

in this place. I can hear nothing,”

explained. “They help with privacy. Don’t worry about

open area like little balls of lightning, the southron elven children watching them and playing with them, tossing things to be retrieved

like children?” Galamon

“No,” said Argrave immediately.

down.

“I don’t want to deal with other people’s children. Nephews, nieces,

“Sons, daughters?” he pressed.

his head. “Wrong

the

not ready,” Argrave crossed his

ready,

it, he spotted a decent crowd moving towards them. The old warriors of the southron elves moved from Corentin’s home, striding towards them. Argrave stood,

these men are

they skilled?” Argrave questioned,

cannot tell a man’s skill by sight alone. None can,” Galamon

skilled,” Argrave told

grunted Galamon, keeping an eye on them as they moved

to be pitied. Some were missing hands or had gruesome scars across their bodies—Morvan ‘No-Nose’ was here, just as One-Eye Corentin. The de

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

creatures…” he eyed one of the Brumesingers, who kept their golden eyes on the southron elf suspiciously.

his gaze stopped on Morvan. “You must be Gebicca’s father,”

He was

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 this fast.

He’s known for a

alternatives, another explanation for this scenario… but nothing came, and the only thing Argrave could conjure was that Morvan had been informed a long time ago. The southron elf locked himself