“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.”

to mind, but even Argrave wasn’t that boldfaced. Instead he said

despite the terrible situation. “They they’ll all die,” he said distantly. “Betrayals like that don’t

was about to do. “If I could get you to talk to Batbayar… could it be

troops in desperation? Not a chance,” Ganbaatar

looked back down and said, “And if it wasn’t in desperation? If it was a

at Argrave. “How would you make that happen, dire as

he moved the words around, he couldn’t find a way to put it diplomatically. This man

#####

the right way, Your Majesty?” Orion inquired as Argrave’s gaze

not sure,” Argrave said 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 last played the game, and memory isn’t forever.” He

found it,” Anneliese told Argrave, scouting with her eyes instead of her bird in a rare occasion. “Big tree, slightly hollowed stump, cavern hidden by roots… it has been disturbed, but it remains largely

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

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… the plan wouldn’t die, but it’d become

made it to the place that Anneliese had noticed, and upon looking at it some familiarity dawned. Argrave could say the same about most of the places on this continent, so it

all too similar to many that Argrave had seen before, be that in Heroes of Berendar or in this life. The stone tablet and the statue

opened

not letting thousands of elven refugees come into my kingdom without a proper plan,” Argrave said decisively, feeling half a madman as

the

had already pulled back his fist to punch the emissary at the cave’s entrance. The prince paused when he saw it didn’t

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

be away from the coast. Away from those boats of yours,” the emissary continued, its thin lips speaking precisely. “Your party could screen the retreat. As

abominable creature. Though Argrave shared her discomfort the emissary knew of

draw suspicion, but enough for her to endure. She endures, buying time for Altan to give a convincing retreat. Then, you may reconvene

loved in the line of fire. Practically speaking, that would be the right move. Personally viewing the battlefield gave them the chance to survey the

can do it,”

amber eyes, he surrendered and said, “If she’s fine with it… then I

his Kheshig, yes,”

matter’s settled, can I ask a favor from my newfound

on our side,” the emissary said, not quite

secure the assistance of the dryads, too,” Argrave looked on unflinchingly. He had never told Chiteng this part, and

emissary stared blankly,

to take me where the dryads live. I understand

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