Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave slept little that night—enough to function without issue, but not much more. All of his time was spent studying the spell [Bloodfeud Bow]. The ‘how’ of things still eluded him—the B-rank matrix felt fragile, and his attempts to put it into motion simply made it break. It felt like he was trying to pick up a house of cards and move it elsewhere. It didn’t matter how he distributed the force, or if he applied it evenly across the whole thing—to set the spell matrix into motion was to break it.

Despite his failures, he was not discouraged. Never again, he repeated mentally time and time again. He could never again relax, never again fall into contentment. Everything could be taken from him in a heartbeat if he was not adequately prepared.

The expeditionary forces were rallied early in the morning. Orion brought with him ten of his Waxknights, and Argrave brought his three companions, plus Silvic. In total, that placed them at sixteen. All had plenty of rations. Orion brought a weapon along. It was an ornate flanged mace made of black metal and gilded with snakes on the shaft, and thoroughly enchanted.

Orion distributed backpacks full of rations to all, including Argrave and his companions—they had been diligently gathered and preserved. The Waxknights accompanying them were C-rank mages, one and all, and seemed to be skilled with their blades.

The morning was spent by Silvic—in truth, Anneliese—scouting out a proper path. The obfuscation was paranoid caution on Argrave’s part, concealing some of their abilities in case they needed them. Anneliese marked the trees in the vast wetlands ahead with her Starsparrow. Argrave repaid some of his debt to Erlebnis—the first hours of the journey would be safe, he knew. He would likely regain his ability to use the Blessing of Supersession the next morning.

After their preparations…

“If you stray too far from me, my power wanes. Barring Orion, perhaps, all will die. The wetlands themselves will consume you in hours, and none will find your body,” Silvic cautioned.

“How dangerous can it be for knights of the faithful?” a Waxknight rebuffed.

Silvic turned her head towards him. “I will not make you believe me. I see no reason to stop you from killing yourself.”

Orion crossed his arms. “Heeds the spirit’s words. We are allies against evil,” he commanded.

“Then we may go whenever you are ready,” Silvic directed.

Orion stepped away, peering through the trees into the vast wetlands beyond. A cold morning mist blocked much vision ahead. This fog seemed different, somehow—the wind did not affect it.

“Oh gods,” Orion sung. “As I walk through hardships, protect me, your Lordships…”

Orion stepped ahead first, heading into the wetlands. Argrave pulled his gloves a bit tighter and then walked forward just after him. Soon enough, the whole party disappeared into the cold morning mist, heading for the foul Plague Jester.

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fortress, the unnaturalness of

could extend. In ‘Heroes of Berendar,’ it had been an annoyance—the player would follow by the side of this slow-moving character, staying within the safe zone as they moved to the first fortress. Now… things were different, death was reality, and Argrave was tense. He and his

as though they were trapped in a bubble. This mist writhed and twisted into shapes, faces, and let out muffled screams that were horrifyingly intense. Beyond that, the wetlands themselves twisted and writhed and bubbled, mud and water

light of the sun faded. The Waxknights were forced to light the way with spell light. The waters rose, and before long,

passed… the enemy started to

who warned their party long before they came. Even still, their assault was a formidable thing—they came

think of the same thing: he can do whatever he wants. His talk of being blessed by 96 gods was no

through the high waters to get at them, Orion raised his foot up and stamped the water. His foot did not sink back in the water—instead, it met something solid, and he stood up out of the water. In not seconds, a wall of ice formed around their party, isolating the leopards that had

the assault, as all of the cats needed to climb over it to get at their party. Argrave attacked sparingly, making good use of his escort. He had instructed his

a time, the ground began to shake, and

coming!” Argrave relayed, but none treated this as seriously as they should have—most didn’t know what

the waters stirred. A great noise split the air, and Argrave was pelted by chunks of ice. A hippo broke through the barrier of ice Orion had established, bringing with it a tidal wave of water. Its skin was black, reminiscent of volcanic rock. It

Durran, let’s—” he started,

caught the top of the hippo’s open mouth. His legs stayed firm, appearing indomitable. His elbow bent as it received

be strong…” Orion said, a foul anger in his

His mace whistled through the air in an uppercut. It struck the hippo on the bottom of

to destroy the brain. Once he pulled his hand free, he looked

to handle all comers from that side. He spotted something atop one of the ice walls, and his gaze locked onto it. A black gibbon as large as a man hung from one of the trees, one of its too-long arms clinging to the branch. The other held a stick

turned pinker. After, it let out a staccato call, several high-pitched hoos that filled the air. Argrave tensed, and as the gibbon called, the apes descended on them en masse, swinging from the overhanging trees so adeptly it was

Bloodmoon] immediately. A thread of his blood formed a circle before his hands as the Waxknights confronted the apes, immediately proving his caution warranted. The apes swung their light-imbued sticks with intense ferocity. Their arms were six feet long and pure muscle. These humble sticks blessed by wetland spirits cut through enchanted

as stone, and they felt no pain. What few blows they did not parry with their

confront the tide of apes that hunted them. The sticks slammed against the golden ward as the apes cried out

an overwhelming slaughter, and Argrave did not need to use even

searching for more foes. Just then, a hippo barreled through the ice wall. Argrave prepared to fight, only to see the hippo scrambled away on its back, feet swinging through the air as it tried to turn and run. Orion stepped forward, planting his foot on its stomach. He pressed his foot down and bashed his mace against its head