Jackal Among Snakes

Though Argrave had been captivated by the discovery of [Blood Infusion], the Alchemist’s suggestion of robbing Erlebnis of knowledge drew his attention unlike anything else before.

Argrave and Anneliese walked into the Alchemist’s temporary abode constructed by his Pawns, where the giant waited for them with stacks of books laid out without much reason. He seemed to take issue with this, for he scooped up the books with many hands conjured from his body and placed them inside the wall. Argrave was baffled at what, exactly, this place was constructed of. Was this obsidian, or something more?

“Was that idea of yours more than just that?” Argrave decided to ask bluntly.

The Alchemist did not look back as he said, “Mortals have stolen from gods before.”

“Those tales generally end in smiting the mortal in question,” Argrave rebutted, recalling well the stories of gods and their wrath.

Whether in his world or in Heroes of Berendar, some poor sap would steal the Super Sandals, the Awesome Armor, or the Magic Mantle. Afterward, the thief would suffer a curse ten thousand times worse than whatever meager benefit the items actually offered. It was a bad deal.

“These tales spread only because people don’t like to think they are responsible for their mediocrity.” The Alchemist turned around. “But we can steal from Erlebnis. And whatever knowledge he holds will undoubtedly be of more use than this upstart, Mozzahr.”

“How do you know we can steal from a god?” Argrave gestured toward him.

“Personal experience,” the Alchemist said coldly.

Silence followed after that declaration. As Argrave exchanged glances with Anneliese, the Alchemist extended his hand to the ground. He clenched his fingers as if molding clay, and then a table rose up to occupy the once-empty room.

in the forces behind it.” The Alchemist waved his hand across this

head with a mouth possessing far too many teeth. It had two eyes but they were not in

is impartial. He cares not that you foiled him, I guarantee it; he would deal with you all the same. But you have earned the animosity of the Qircassian Coalition by what you did in the Bloodwoods,”

“Divine politics,” Anneliese repeated.

set down the king piece, and eight others identical to it rose up from the obsidian table to form a circle. “Gods might seem incomprehensible. They have unknowable urges—Erlebnis’ thirst for knowledge, Fellhorn’s desire for control of all water, Kirel Qircassia’s bid to flatten the earth to make way for his legions—but they are not so far removed from human struggles.” The Alchemist raised his huge hand up, raising one finger. “Least of all, now, when they are immortal

involve gods in the fate of Vasquer.” Argrave stepped to the table and grabbed one of the

an unintelligent decision. You would be best served abandoning that idea,” the Alchemist’s voice retaliated sharply, cracking like a whip. “This is not about your kingdom.

Argrave as he smiled bitterly. Surprisingly, even though he was naturally obstinate and resisted advice that challenged his preconceived values, he had no issue letting go of this idea. ‘No gods, no masters’ was a good slogan, but the reality remained that Argrave was one man. Even with a kingdom at his beck and call, he had to bend with the wind. At least this way,

behind, and when he turned a Pawn escorted Galamon in. The snow elf looked about cautiously, and then came to stand behind Argrave

earn a place in divine politics, you must speak for the divine,” the Alchemist continued. “Not all are like those elven gods. Some are so far removed from mortality that communication is impossible.

watched by Veid,” the Alchemist pointed Galamon out, sliding a king piece closer. When it neared, it morphed into an elaborate idol depicting a woman clothed in fur—Veid herself. “I doubt she could

the

like wolves, waiting for opportunity. If the forces of the world permitted it, they would stalk you every second, propositioning you. But they are bound to their shrines, and this is a relatively godless continent. There are little more than local spirits scattered throughout your kingdom, and I have

he didn’t have much rebuttal. It was true—he did intend on having Durran roam the land, slaying

he held down, twisting it. “Shouldn’t I be… well, rather unappealing, if I’ve provoked

People outside the faction fear the Qircassian Coalition, meaning cooperation is near as likely an outcome as ostracization. And the key point of your conflict is this: you dealt Kirel a grievous blow. Another god fragmented his realm.” The Alchemist reached out, rearranging pieces. He waved to

inevitability, but he didn’t think the time would come so soon. He looked to Anneliese, seeking her counsel, but she seemed to be in agreement with the Alchemist on first glance.

Argrave looked back. “And what about you? Why aren’t you

Alchemist’s body seemed to bubble—that was a good indicator he was somewhat angry, Argrave suspected. Then, he

Argrave held his hand out. “I