Jackal Among Snakes
Chapter 141
In the alleyways of Sethia, someone crawled away on their knees, veritably pulling themselves forward using the walls. They pushed aside rubble, heaving, then eventually collapsed against a building, breathless.
“Haah… haah,” the man breathed. Covered in grime, dust, and sand, the man was entirely nude. He was ridiculously skinny, appearing both dehydrated and starved. His hair and eyes were brown. His skin was the color of copper.
If any of the residents of the city saw him, they would know he was unmistakably the Lord of Copper.
Brium did not consider himself a fool. He knew when he had lost a battle. His enemies waited beyond, letting the elves tear at him like wolves hunting a lion. All of his allies were vanquished. His death was inevitable. As such, rather than perish, he elected to commit the only cardinal sin for Vessels of Fellhorn—severing his connection with the ancient god.
Two Vessels before Brium had done such a thing. It was an abominable act, and all who had done it had died miserably. Brium was no more than a mortal man, now. He looked much older than he once did—near forty, his true age. He was weak, friendless, and surrounded by people hostile to him. But he was alive, and that alone was sufficient.
After having caught his breath, he tried to rise to his feet. Something stopped him from doing so. Brium raised his head up, only to see a man in plate armor holding a boot to his shoulder.
Boarmask stood there. His namesake, the boar helmet, was badly dented. Part of the mock boar’s eye was caved in. His armor had been ripped asunder in many places, and even now, the man was bleeding.
“Planning an escape?” Boarmask questioned. “You aren’t why I’m stalking these streets. But the world must consider itself fortunate that I was watching. A tyrant such as you cannot escape judgement.”
Brium raised his hand up. He opened his mouth, but his tongue was dry, and he could form no words. Boarmask raised his mace up. Light fell onto his helmet, revealing a blue eye as cold as the deep sea.
“Reap the misery you have sown.”
Boarmask’s mace descended. After a second, the man pulled away his foot and mace both.
“Gods above, nurture these souls I send to you, wicked though they may be,” Boarmask prayed as he cleaned his mace. “There is one more I must send to meet you. I beg of you—watch over me, and ensure I walk the righteous path.”
Boarmask limped into the alleyway, where Titus’ voice grew ever louder.
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Now that Titus had brought his plan into light, many of the oddities and inconsistencies throughout their journey started to make sense to Argrave.
was in Malgeridum, deep within a cordoned section of the mines. Titus presumably found them there. The revolt was likely a distraction to move them—and it would explain why Anneliese
tribals, he had likely been the intermediary between them and Brium. He was near certainly the Lord of Copper’s primary agent
had grown to this position of prominence. Was it a variation between fiction and reality? Was it a set of
with their mysterious fog as they sung their chiming song. Following behind was
they must be seen—and Argrave made damn sure they’d be
they knew. It achieved
own people! The Lord of Silver, felled by my hand!” Argrave revealed the silver inheritance medallion—it was a
greeted this with enthusiasm—it was the sort of friendly welcome Argrave hoped to receive, that they might be more receptive to further direction. Durran turned his gaze towards them, too, and urged his
the southron elves did not provide Durran with any weaponry whatsoever.” Argrave stepped forward, standing atop rubble to reach a higher place. “I brought the elves into
Florimund added as he came to join them. “We provided no weaponry to the people here. We were aware of the
covering for them!” a member of the crowd shouted. “The elves need
scrape and bow for the sake
innocence in this matter. Yet how can any trust Durran?” Titus shouted out.
know of this collaboration besides the tribals, then
a tribal,” Titus replied quickly. “And I still have friends there.
earlier rose, almost in cue. “Aye! Titus has kept in contact with us.
is the one who armed men with elven war
A mob was a volatile thing—humans are reasonable creatures, by and large, but within a crowd, one can project their opinion infinitely. People join in protest simply to be a part of the group. Self-awareness and personal identity are muted
did not know who Titus even was, but the crowd soon joined in expressing their
his bell and made to speak, but Argrave seized
accuse no one!” Argrave explained. “There is simply no
roof, holding a man by the neck. “I captured this man. He had these,” he explained, holding out arrows that had purple runes
at the unexpected
gave us all our plans!”
words could not be booed, but a silence did take over
beaten—he’d say anything!” Titus refuted, and his men planted in the
to him. “Titus’ archers are getting
feeling a sense of
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