Jackal Among Snakes

“All of that work to return without finishing?” Ganbaatar stepped to Argrave, concerned but with anger held tightly at bay. “What was that conversation?”

Argrave watched the ship docked with knights and his cousin aboard, then looked to Ganbaatar. Behind, Moriatran and Artur moved off, speaking to each other as they spoke of the battle they’d just endured. Argrave waited a moment, then conjured a ward around himself and the elf.

“Kirel Qircassia is in league with another god,” Argrave said to Ganbaatar flat out.

It pained him to phrase it in such a way, deflecting blame from himself… but what he needed most was Ganbaatar’s cooperation. He could practically hear Dimocles saying, ‘You know best, Argrave. That’s why you deceive this man.’ But then, shame had never been in Argrave’s repertoire.

“What in the blazes does that mean?” the wood elf stepped closer. “Why are we here? Why are we standing about? And… ships?”

“I’m going to fix this,” Argrave said point-blank. “But I’ll level with you—things are desperate. We’re on the backpedal.”

Ganbaatar took a deep, angry breath through clenched teeth. “The backpedal,” he repeated.

“I need to get to the dryads,” Argrave continued. “And I’m hoping you can help with that.”

“Do you realize what you’re asking?” Ganbaatar gestured towards him. “The dryads are the sole thing kept secret, kept protected. Elves can move, relocate, build new homes… but the dryads are linked to the forest, bound by their roots. To give that up…” he clapped his hands together. “I give up everything, everyone.”

“I don’t need to engage with them so much as the place they’re taking root,” Argrave continued. “You’ve been, haven’t you?”

“I was eight years old. Most everyone that goes there was,” Ganbaatar looked to the side. “Blindfolded, carried miles… no way I remember where it is.”

“But the place you did see—did it remind you of anything?” Argrave gestured.

Ganbaatar didn’t need to think long before answering, “It was like that place we met with the elven gods. Those hanging gardens, that colosseum…”

“Ancient elven ruins,” Argrave told him. “Well… ancient elven style, at least. That’s irrelevant. I need to go there, Ganbaatar. Please, help me.”

“You don’t know how to go there?” the elf stared with his red eyes pointedly.

“I don’t,” Argrave shook his head. It was half-true. He knew where it was on the map, but the place was accessible only by cutscene, even with the game stretched to its limits. He didn’t care to chance risking his life to defy that principle. The dryads had protection in place.

Ganbaatar looked off to the side, debating with himself. Then, with his mind settled, he said idly, “The Supreme Myriarch and his Kheshig know. Contacts among any of them are pointless. The myriarchs know, too. The only contact I have among them is my mentor, Batbayar, but…” he looked at Argrave. “Is it bad? This… this change in the battle, I mean.”

wasn’t that boldfaced. Instead he said truthfully,

dealt with this a thousand times before. Argrave was impressed despite the terrible situation. “They they’ll all die,” he said distantly. “Betrayals like that don’t happen without certainty from the opposition. And

at him, feeling the guilt ahead of what he was about to do. “If I could get you to talk to Batbayar…

he’s commanding troops in desperation? Not a chance,”

he brought this upon everyone, unwittingly or not. Then he looked back down and said, “And if it wasn’t in desperation?

you make

on their side, Argrave thought. And no matter how he moved the words around, he couldn’t find a way to put it diplomatically. This man had come to him for help, and now it was his time to admit that he’d ruined

#####

Your Majesty?” Orion inquired as Argrave’s gaze wandered

in slight irritation. “All the landscape’s been turned around, churned by the roots like raw cookie dough, all thanks to Kirel. These trees are big and impressive, but there’s so damn many of them that they all look the same. It’s been two years since I

rare occasion.

as he bid—and ‘as he bid’ mostly meant doing whatever to draw no suspicion from Erlebnis. Though he sent Nikoletta along to Elenore, he didn’t have high hopes that his sister acquired any shamanic magic from the search parties sent to loot valuable locations in Vasquer. Locations that had it were in short supply, and not particularly high priority. It was midgame loot, and so Argrave only intended to acquire it before the

to help with surprisingly little fuss. Maybe Argrave was delusional, but the elven warrior seemed to almost feel some relief when he heard of Argrave’s mistake, like it was some sign he was truly human. Regardless, Argrave hoped Batbayar would be as accommodating toward his apprentice as he had been in Heroes of Berendar. Elsewise…

at it some familiarity dawned. Argrave could say the same about most of the places on this continent, so it wasn’t quite special

to many that Argrave had seen before, be that in Heroes of Berendar or in this life. The stone

mind settled upon an answer, he opened his mouth… speaking to Erlebnis’ emissaries once

Altan and the myriarchs, set up a conversation. I’m not letting thousands of elven refugees come into my kingdom without a proper plan,” Argrave said decisively, feeling half a madman as he talked to a cave wall.

the answer at once, from

back his fist to punch the emissary at the cave’s entrance. The prince paused when he saw it didn’t move, stepping back towards

happen,” Argrave repeated, stepping past them both. “And how does it

thin lips speaking precisely. “Your party could screen the retreat. As I understand, your queen’s

guarded as she looked at the abominable creature. Though Argrave shared her discomfort the emissary knew of her power, Argrave answered on her behalf, “Yes, that’s

to endure. She endures, buying time for Altan to give a convincing retreat.

of fire. Practically speaking, that would be the right move. Personally viewing the battlefield gave

do it,” Anneliese

eyes, he surrendered and said, “If she’s fine with it… then I am too. But given you’re volunteering Altan, that would mean the Supreme Myriarch is

of his Kheshig, yes,” the emissary

and sighed. “If that matter’s settled, can I ask a favor from my newfound friend?” He

the emissary said, not

secure the assistance of the dryads, too,” Argrave looked on unflinchingly. He had never told Chiteng this part, and so he divulged it now to earn trust. “I need that assistance for my long-range

emissary stared blankly, giving no

way to get the elves to give it up—more specifically, to take me where the dryads live. I understand this might interest Erlebnis,” Argrave