Jackal Among Snakes

Having a preplanned route makes travel all the faster, especially when good terrain is chosen. When traversing uncharted wetlands, such a thing was largely impossible—with Anneliese’s Starsparrow, though, they picked out a relatively flat and dry route devoid of many obstacles. It facilitated quick travel through the northwest… and their destination was not so far, fortunately. The Starsparrow could only scout so far ahead, though, because a great power restricted passage further ahead.

As the day neared dusk, the cold, foggy wetlands bloomed into a scene more befitting a summer retreat, colors of all sort abounding from brilliant, wide-petaled flowers growing off vines and trees and all manner of exotic flora. The temperature of the air did not change, so it was a jarring transition, almost unnatural.

Yet as they proceeded deeper, the little microcosm of beauty was marred. Though it affected plants nowhere else, here, the waxpox morphed what was beautiful into golden brown pock-marked monstrosities that curled and twisted and writhed in unpleasant ways which, though motionless, gave Argrave the impression of bug legs and tentacles.

“Everything goes silent ahead,” Galamon stopped Argrave from proceeding onwards, hand placed before his chest.

Argrave pushed Galamon’s hand off of him. “We’re entering another realm. It’d be stranger if you could hear.”

As they proceeded, the sounds did indeed quiet. The entire wetlands around them had become grotesque—even the roads they had entered to come here were not so ugly. But as they pushed past, Argrave’s ears popped… and a sight of incomprehensible beauty spread out before him, like an illusion shattering.

Before them was a great crater of rushing water laid out in a perfect circle. Water flowed from every bit of this circle towards the center. Great wooden platforms rested atop the rushing water, but they were not built—instead, the bridges were formed of natural-grown trees, and hosted plant life uncountable. There were archways of vines hosting bulbous flowers, golden lily pads persisting atop the swift water, and towering trees with beautiful, myriad-color fruits dangling from their leaves.

There was one thing marring this beauty. A jagged path the same ugly brown rot as the land they’d emerged from cut across the verdant landscape, like a lightning bolt of decay striking at the center of the place. Even despite that, the beauty was incomprehensible, and Argrave took a moment to gather himself. Everyone did.

The game had called this place the Marred Hallowed Grounds. Argrave had been here time and time again.

“If any place could be called a land of the gods…” Durran stepped out, head turning to appreciate the sight.

Anneliese stepped forward, her curiosity consuming her, but Argrave stopped her by grabbing her waist. “Careful. This place is not friendly to us.”

Anneliese nodded, and Argrave released his grip.

continued, eyes trailing the path of rot that

an attack, striking directly at this land—without it having already broken the barrier to this place, we’d never enter here. This place is hidden to the

foot against the ugly brown mess below his feet. “Suppose I should thank

graying fur out. Their fur darkened every day as they consumed the souls of the fallen, and their use to the party

pulled his wyvern scale helmet off his pack and placed it over his

“The Sentinels of the master of this land roam this place—they’re dangerous. They take the shape of animals, though druidic magic does nothing against them… but they’re weakened by the waxpox, and they’re big and loud.

same motion. Opposite their party of four, a gargantuan white wolf stepped up atop one of the wooden platforms, front paw on the edge. It lowered its head. Part of its face was consumed by the waxpox, leaving one side of its maw slack as it growled. Argrave

his fist,

on three sides. Head for that bridge—we must narrow

Argrave’s command. “Let’s go. Rightward bridge,” Argrave

a limp. The beast was threatening enough it was tempting to reach for the Blessing of Supersession…

lunged forth towards Galamon, the leading target. The elven vampire swung preemptively, and his enchanted greatsword summoned a blade of wind. It split open the wolf’s snout, and it staggered back. Durran pressed forth, using the only C-rank spell he’d learned, [Tempest]. The spell, a great whirlwind meant for blocking projectiles, hovered before him harmlessly, but he swung his glaive through it. The spell clung to the wyvern bone blade, and he carried the swing onwards towards the wolf, slicing it in the leg. The attack was devastating, and

Argrave sprinted forth around Galamon and Durran while he conjured the D-rank [Gore Scalpel]. His wrist split open, and his black blood surged out from his glove, forming a dark maroon knife in his hand. He sunk it into the

Argrave gathered his

a hive of activity and sound. The wolf’s howl had summoned everything in the vast crater over, and until they dealt with the vast majority of the Sentinels, their progress would not continue. The four of them ran

avoid stumbling over the myriad beautiful flowers in the landscape. As they made their way towards the bridge, a titanic alligator

Argrave shouted, “Its tongue is

she managed to conjure a ward with her enchanted ring in time to block the ridiculously fast tongue. The golden shield shook, but

Durran moved to punish the enemy’s overextension. “I shall clear

within, and he saw the great roiling black mass of magic within whirl as though a hurricane ran through it. A great bunch of it surged to her hands, forming the lines of the spell matrix—one dimension, two dimension, three dimension… and

of frozen arms attached at the shoulder. They braced for a swing, then spun forth, cutting through whatever was ahead like a sawblade run amok. The swarming beetles were blasted away, some bisected entirely. It continued past the beetles, striking the alligator’s tongue as it retracted before cutting into the giant beast itself. When the blades of ice struck

her. B-rank magic was where things became truly destructive. She used a spell of her people—[Icebound Twinblades]. Veidimen ice magic was always potent, made doubly so by actual Veidimen

diminished. As she gained her bearings, he said evenly, “Conserve your energy in case it’s needed. You’ve made a path to the bridge, now let the three of us take