Jackal Among Snakes

“Met halfway?” Orion repeated Argrave’s claims.

Argrave nodded. “I know your situation. Without you, this camp falls apart. Your blessings are the only thing keeping the vast majority of the people in this camp alive, and more come every day.” Argrave stepped closer. “But with this many people, things become more difficult with each new body. Even with spellcasters to create clean drinking water, food is a pressing concern in these wetlands. You have to dedicate your royal knights to hunting just to sustain this place… and even then, the creatures of the northwest aren’t the easiest to swallow.”

Argrave stepped just before Orion, staring up at his older brother. Orion pressed more, asking, “What will you do, then?”

“I’ll get what’s needed to justify action—to justify an expedition into the wetlands, where we can put an end to the swamp folks’ gods. I’ll set things in motion. All I need is help when the time comes.” Argrave held out his hand. “Focus on your duty. I will focus on mine.”

A normal person might question all of Argrave’s actions, his claims. Argrave had never before plainly stated the root cause of the land’s troubles to anyone besides his companions—not with the Veidimen, nor anywhere else. But Orion was far from normal.

Orion grasped Argrave’s hand. Argrave could still feel some intense heat from Orion’s earlier display. “The gods whisper true. The tallest trees grown sprout from the smallest seeds sewn. It seems you stand tall as testament to that.”

Argrave tried to parse his meaning, but Orion pulled him in and hugged him once more before he could ponder deeply. Argrave accepted it, knowing that refusal was not an option.

“A herd wanders if left alone for too long. I cannot let them go too astray. I must return to the people.” He patted Argrave’s shoulder, then released him. “Wait here. My knights will escort you to a room within the keep for you and my future sister-in-law, and a separate one for your companions. I will await your proof, Argrave. I hope for your sake you speak truly. Know that the gods do not like lies of such proportions… and I am the instrument to express their displeasure.”

After bowing to Anneliese respectfully, Orion left the room, closing the door behind him. Argrave watched the door, then glanced at Anneliese before finally turning to meet Magnus. The prince still stood there with arms crossed.

“So, l-l-l-little b-b-brother,” Magnus said, imitating a stutter. “What is this? Get a new set of eyes, a woman at your arms, and you think that the world will part for you?”

“Don’t act like you care. Go back to eating, drinking, and whoring yourself to an early grave,” Argrave waved his hand.

Magnus crossed his arms and grew silent. It seemed to finally be dawning on him that things had changed vastly from when Argrave had been ‘Argrave.’

“Can’t picture why you’re here. You’re a hedonist. You do what you want,” Argrave noted, stepping closer. “Someone like you has no place at the heart of a plague. Are you gathering information for the Bat, looking for a pretty penny? Heard rumors of something desirable, seeking to make it your own? Maybe you’re trying to use Orion as a cudgel for some scheme?”

The questions were many and largely unfounded, but with Anneliese’s presence, he hoped one of his wild guesses might bear fruit and draw a reaction from the taciturn prince.

Magnus stared up at Argrave. “And I should buy your ridiculous story of wanting to help Orion?”

a waste of time talking to you. Go back to wandering, be a happy man. And if you don’t… well, don’t

kept his focus on Magnus’ hands in case the man tried something. Argrave knew that, despite their relative equality in terms of magic ranking, Magnus had many, many enchanted items vested

could win. He partly wished Magnus

last glance at Anneliese before opening the door and leaving. Argrave

so easily,” Anneliese said

the documents on it. They were mostly maps for the region, refusals of requests for supplies, and other such mundane things. Orion did nothing underhanded,

head. “Magnus isn’t pivotal for anything. He doesn’t even travel with an escort of royal guards like most of the

certainties in the world you knew,” she pointed out, walking closer. “Magnus may not be consigned

deeper meaning for

He and Orion are like opposites—if one is an explosion of light, the other is a gray slate. Magnus

the youngest

you expected. We will set the

the hole,” Argrave finished, shaking his head. “Golf, hah. Living in Berendar really puts into perspective how lavish

off. Soon after, the door was opened, and some of Orion’s Waxknights

instructed us to assign you and your companions a room,” the

#####

wetlands were a late-game area in ‘Heroes of Berendar,’ always. Everything deep in this foggy wasteland was monstrously dangerous. Though putting an end to the plague took place relatively early in the main quest, that was only because the player

issue still stood, though, of the proof that Argrave needed to get. It seemed a fundamentally unqualifiable claim—the only logical way to prove this conspiracy of his was to put an end to it. Considering the danger of the wetlands, that proved to be an impossible task. The last of the swamp folk occupied the fortress deepest within the vast wetlands. They couldn’t go without help. Of course, ending the plague

was another way. The gods of the swamp folk were

no time to prepare?”

to stick around and prepare? Really?” Argrave questioned. “The last thing I need is intense scrutiny from Orion. A tribal from the deep south, two snow elves, one of whom is suffering from a certain bloodborne condition, and

his pack.

unique, certainly, but he’s not a petty thief.

guess they might weigh us down when we’re

is a loose term. It doesn’t denote anything special about anyone. Cultists can worship a man, declare him a god—he becomes a god, ostensibly, but is he really that powerful?” Argrave explained, seeking to soften the impact of the word. “All we fight is a unique existence. And I assure you—we’re capable of this much.” Argrave clenched

Starsparrow landed on his shoulder. “I think I’ve routed out a good path. I marked the

his boots and gloves a little

the few refugees up so early in the dawn. The place was still mostly frozen, and all of the four of them could see their breath in the air.