Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave and Anneliese sat at a table. Argrave had his head supported by one hand, his gaze looking off into another dimension. Anneliese waited for him to speak patiently, her hands placed before her almost politely.

“I feel lost about this development for the first time in a while,” Argrave told her plainly, waving his free hand about to support his vocalization. “I had a general route of how I wanted to grow stronger, prepare for fights… and I can’t see how I might slot this in.”

Anneliese nodded, her hands moving to braid her long white hair back. “Then perhaps you ignore it. Shelve it away.”

Argrave sighed. “But… that’s unambitious. There’s a lot of potential for this. People could die if I don’t do everything I can to become stronger.”

“You would jeopardize everything for a vague chance?” she said quickly, hands braiding faster. “What Vasquer told you—"

“Obviously, lichdom, things like that—they’re off the table,” Argrave said, holding his arms out wide. Anneliese agreed at once with a nod. “Gerechtigkeit can corrupt necromantic creations, turn them against their creators—something to do with the nature of that magic. I’m the last person who’d want to fight against any of you, least of all because you’d all put me in the dirt.”

Argrave rose to his feet, pacing around to work his mind. “But a soul like mine… it’s a valuable thing. It might be I can get something good from the gods from it. An unparalleled blessing.”

“Please do not profane your soul for strength,” Anneliese pleaded so earnestly Argrave felt a tug of guilt at his throat.

“That’s…” Argrave walked up to her, pulled his chair closer and sat down. “My soul—a deathless soul—it’s really, really damned resilient. Liches are incredibly hard to kill. Specters born of deathless souls are nightmarish to deal with. The last thing I want is to corrupt myself, or… or whatever you might be thinking. I’ve just got a valuable thing I might leverage. A strength—something that’s actually special about me. A real talent.”

“It is not ‘a valuable thing.’ It is invaluable,” she disagreed. “So, please do not try and assign value to it. You know little about this matter, and I know less—but I do know you should treadcarefully,” she said deliberately.

Argrave scratched his forehead. “Think about how much I benefitted from the Alchemist and becoming Black Blooded. That was leveraging my knowledge to gain a tremendous boon. My heart was torn from my chest—it defied all logic, threw caution to the wind.”

Anneliese leaned in, abandoning her task of braiding her hair. “Would you like to do it again?” she asked, the first hint of anger bubbling up.

“Damn it all, I don’t want to do any of this,” Argrave leaned back in his chair, slouching exhaustedly. “The plan I had so far… strive for a particular A-rank ascension pertaining to blood magic, as that’s a prerequisite for Blood Infusion—that is, infusing all spells with blood magic. After, I try to earn the goddess of blood’s favor, alleviate the side effects of blood magic by performing sanctioned sacrifices,” Argrave told her. “All of this… you knew.”

“And what is wrong with it? We kill plenty. Sacrificing our foes is not so big a step away, and alleviating your blood loss is no minor thing. Do you recall how utterly dominating [Bloodfeud Bow] was? Imagine suffering nothing for using that spell,” she urged him. “On top of that, your A-rank blood magic ascension would change the whole landscape. Every spell you cast could be imbued with blood. A simple C-rank spell could destroy B-rank wards and tear through countless foes with ease.”

Argrave stared at the stone ceiling of Rancor’s headquarters, saying nothing in response. Internally, he was running through his head the people he knew in ‘Heroes of Berendar’ who had a deathless soul. There were three liches, each and all terrifying fights. The Alchemist might be another, though that detail had only been discovering from datamining ‘Heroes of Berendar’ and was dubious at best.

He knew they could handle burdens that other souls could not tolerate. They were pliable. If used to reanimate something, they could be reused, and retained experience. Memories of obscure lore came rushing back as he

to be devoid of a body, and even then, he was but a tool by that point. He wasn’t fond of the idea of being utilized

you disappointed, hopeless. It means you have thought of no foolish venture to gamble

thing this serious without consulting you first. But if we’re found lacking

her arms and looked away, blinking a little quickly. Her amber eyes were a bit watery. “Sometimes, I want to… seize you, freeze you. Anything to keep you safe.” She

feeling a fool. “Tell me. Let’s talk about it,” he grabbed her forearms. “What you’ve done for me, letting me talk

his and smiled warmly. “I… no, I think you’re right. I like helping you, supporting you. Didn’t want to talk about things. My problems, my concerns…

want to help you,”

to the world stage. You plan to be crowned king. I will be at your side.” Anneliese shook her head. “The idea has

her hair to better see her face. “What

I was taught a monarch, or ruler, or tribal chief… they have a responsibility to the people far heavier than the people do to them. Some

the word. Don’t tell me you’re too blind to see how damn amazing you’ll be?” Argrave asked her incredulously. “Need I tell you more stories about the Anneliese in ‘Heroes of Berendar,’ how much of

embarrassedly. “I

most important thing in leadership?” Argrave questioned. Anneliese

away, saying, “Intent

that goal, using the wisdom of yourself and trusted council…” Argrave shook his head. “That’s a recipe for success. After all… it’s a position of power. And power is the means

arms out. “You’re infinitely curious. Gods be damned, if

to the quiet pattern of breathing. Then, Anneliese whispered in his ears, “I think you

“What

mentions of things that burden that soul—non-necromantic spells, other rituals. I believe that would be a good starting point.

don’t

yourself,” Anneliese rose to

#####

stayed up later than usual perusing Garm’s writings. They were dense books, and frankly, the

recognizing the stone ceiling of Rancor’s base, Argrave felt a rush of nervousness when he was reminded Elenore had probably spoken to Vasquer by now. His grogginess faded. He cast a glance to Anneliese beside him, and seeing she still slept soundly, decided to go off and

and gave him a slight nod. The elven vampire was brewing some ingredients that Durran had fetched in his outing. Elenore’s men were becoming

saw Elenore standing beside Vasquer, her hand held to the golden snake as she spoke to a group of

Argrave’s approach until he entered a certain distance from her, whereupon her head jumped

me for a moment,” he heard her