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.

#####

pressed towards the first fortress, the unnaturalness of

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 companions stayed

A cold mist surrounded them just outside a boundary 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

were solid, and the light of the sun faded. The Waxknights were forced to light the way with spell light. The waters rose, and before long, everyone waded through knee-high muck. Well, mostly everyone—Argrave was glad to be tall more than ever as the ice-cold waters stung at his shins. Experiencing this place firsthand made the Waxknights

as the hours passed… the

was ruined by Silvic’s presence, who warned their party long before they came. Even still, their assault was a formidable thing—they came from the trees, jumping down from above, and simultaneously attacked from the ground. The Waxknights on the perimeter intercepted

talk of being blessed

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 jumped down at them from the

as all of the cats needed to climb over it to get at their party. Argrave attacked sparingly, making good

the ground began to shake,

this as seriously as they should have—most didn’t know what hippos

intensity, and 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

he started, stepping backwards

legs stayed firm, appearing indomitable. His elbow bent as it received and halted the hippo’s charge, enchantments sparking as they protested the great force pressing

be strong…” Orion said, a foul anger

uppercut. It struck the hippo on the bottom of its jaw. It was powerful enough to send its titanic head into the

hippo, pressing through its eye to destroy the brain. Once he pulled his hand free, he looked beyond the breach in the ice wall, where two more of the gigantic creatures approached. Orion stepped atop the corpse of the rockhide he’d just ended, moving

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

pouch on its neck—it inflated with air, letting out a quaint sound as it 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

as the Waxknights confronted the apes, immediately proving his caution warranted. The apes

mere knights. Their waxpox-ridden skin was as hard as stone, and they felt no pain. What few blows they did not parry with

a B-rank ward—her own magic, this time, and not from her ring—to confront the tide of apes that hunted them. The sticks slammed against the golden

three companions and greeted the apes with blood magic, sending crescent blades of his dark blood towards each and all that pressed further. It was an overwhelming slaughter, and Argrave did not need to use even a quarter as many as he had against the Sentinels in the Marred Hallowed

head about, 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