Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave and Galamon emerged from the thinning beige smoke. Judging by the reactions they received by Elenore’s gathered men, they struck quite a harrowing pair. He saw Elenore beside his companions—the princess crossed her arms in uncertainty, for she could not perceive things a long distance away. Argrave walked confidently forward.

“Mages! Gather,” Argrave commanded. “The pump of poison in the air has stopped. The vampires are preparing for our assault—we dispel the smoke, then press through to put a stake in the chest of these foul bloodsuckers before they can prepare!”

Elenore had already given Argrave significant authority, and his words themselves had a commanding atmosphere. Her people rushed to obey, the mages taking the head of the pack to dispel the smoke. Argrave stepped up to Elenore.

“Things went well,” Argrave told her, watching the mages as they worked. “I’ll take the helm for the second assault. They’ve grouped up—perfect for me.”

Elenore studied him, evidently unsettled. “You… encountered trouble?”

“Not enough,” Argrave commented. “Anneliese, Durran. You’re ready, I trust?”

Durran hefted his glaive. “Naturally.”

Anneliese did not answer, but instead came to his side to tend to the wounds he’d left untreated wordlessly. Argrave smiled at her.

“Perhaps you should hang back, let me handle things from here,” Elenore suggested.

“You’ve done enough. Barely let me participate last battle. Besides, they have spellcasters in their number. I still have something to show you,” Argrave grinned broadly.

Anneliese gave him a sideward glance for his words but did not protest.

“The smoke clears!” one of Elenore’s men shouted.

Spurred to action, Argrave turned on his heels. “Won’t be long, now. I’m looking forward to getting to brass tacks when we come back,” Argrave left her, then ran speedily to take the vanguard as he’d promised.

“Galamon—give Durran the axe. Durran—here,” Argrave removed his glove and his ring, then gave the thing to him. “You cast wards to defend. I imagine they’ll try something they already have—holding a chokepoint, like a corridor. I’ll break past, but I need you to defend me.”

“…right,” Durran acknowledged, then turned to Elenore. “Hey. Keep this safe, will you? I appreciate it,” he thanked before her answer, then tossed his glaive towards her.

“That’s—!" she shouted, alarmed, yet caught the glaive all the same. “That was dangerous!” she admonished him.

“Hey, come on. Look after it well and you’ll go from me being okay with you to me liking you. Big step up!” Durran laughed.

“I hope you…!” Elenore began to curse him but deflated in half a second. “Treat this task seriously, lest you perish.”

Durran waved her goodbye, and then with his new equipment, advanced alongside them.

heel. “Your role is simple—cleaning duty. Now, I know

tempting fate with such arrogance. Argrave knew people, though. A confident, arrogant leader who’d already proven himself in battle was a great boost for morale. They’d seen him emerge from a poison waste covered in gore—if that was not a proven fighter,

confidence at his heel, Argrave once again dove into the catacombs. The smoke had thinned tremendously already, and the mages still worked to dispel it. Despite that, all the warriors bore cloth wraps over their face for added protection. For a long while, only the sounds of their footfalls echoed through the stone halls… yet after a time,

lead us to

his Giantkillers at the ready, prepared to protect from errant lightning cast by distant spellcasters. At first, he heard surprise behind him, and nothing more… yet as the eels became dozens, hundreds, there were disbelieving murmurs. He heard his newfound sobriquet muttered: Kinslaying

and Galamon had halted their initial assault and entered a long and wide corridor lined with stone sarcophagi. Lightning attack spells bridged the gap almost at once, yet Galamon caught them with the blue lightning rod daggers in his hand. Long passages were the best place to restrict large group of foes, and their foes intended to hold this

elements came, coupled with blood

behind him.

Their party advanced steadily into the constant barrage, dispelling and conjuring wards in short bursts of movements. He kept the eels at their back, and they illuminated all ahead with light blue light. He was sure the spectacle would appear as though they were

the shape of a recurve bow. It was as tall as Argrave, and he laid one point against the ground. In his other hand, an arrow

but given the price of failure, each of their foes would use an A-rank spell as a last resort. Prevailing magic wisdom dictated spells were to be conserved and used at

account for the

he was content it would be able to shatter any defense the foe might form, A-rank or no, he spurred the electric eels at his back past him. They swarmed like a beam of unimaginable power, hissing and sparking past

the [Electric Eels] to kill en masse. Confident in this theory, Argrave started to walk forward before the scene had settled, using what little time remained in the Blessing of Supersession to spawn more electric eels at his side. He felt a little woozy after using the blood

enemy could only be described as charred corpses. A great gash of overturned stone lined the floor and wall, until his arrow of blood hit a stop and dug ten feet through. What few living dead remained were in no condition to mount a serious defense, and even

turned and called, “Cleaners!

what few remained. If they couldn’t… well, even now, near a hundred eels swirled above Argrave’s head, and Anneliese and Durran were unspent. He was sure he would

#####

said, looking around. He knelt down, examining the lock to the vault before them. “Doesn’t look

something like this… but that would take time, and he wouldn’t be able

sure where he is, sir, but things

you—go looking for him. Stick to areas that’ve already been cleared, and be careful,” he directed them

vampires everywhere. Elenore’s men were quite skilled. He would have to ask her how she assembled so many talented and reliable people. She had never elaborated on that in ‘Heroes of

feel it,” Galamon

to him.

the heart, the mind.” Galamon rubbed his breastplate of dark gray steel. “At… the beast.

was referring to his vampiric nature, Argrave looked around to be sure none were listening. “Well, now’s not the time to let

white eyes refocused, as though he had been drawn from a haze. He shook his head and slapped

he

signal to keep an eye on Galamon. They waited by the vault. Not much time passed before the two he’d

“You’re Jerard?” Argrave asked.

sir,” the man lowered his

locks?” Argrave

“I do, sir.”