Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave’s meeting with Artur had gone about as expected—the man wanted some recognition, and so they gave it. When they had entered, the former Magister of the Order was ready to demand something substantial. But Argrave had buttered him with sweet words, promised a nice plaque with his name on it, and the man folded like wet paper. Artur wanted these vain things—and quite frankly, he did deserve them—and so who was Argrave to deny that?

On the other front, the Vysenn refugees had yet to arrive in Blackgard. With skin like alabaster and customs far removed from the kingdom’s norm, it might be difficult to integrate them with the largely native population of Blackgard seamlessly. Still, these refugees were unmatched at dwelling underground, could work forges well if given the opportunity, and frankly made better soldiers than Vasquer natives. They would be given a place to stay and a job to work, and hopefully would slowly assimilate into the kingdom’s culture.

But with the kingly duties aside, the job search was bound to begin. Argrave returned to the Alchemist with a larger group in tow. Here, they would plan for the future.

The Alchemist waved his hand, and the obsidian house closed off entirely as the last of them entered. The small yet tall room that was the Alchemist’s temporary abode was lit by fleeting purple lights. The house’s owner moved to the head of the table. There, Argrave, Anneliese, Durran, Galamon, Orion, Elenore, and Melanie waited for the formidable spellcaster. The majority of them had grown used to the Alchemist’s presence, save Melanie. She was not quite cautiously optimistic—perhaps the better term for her outlook would be pessimistically hopeful. She was here all the same.

“Alright.” Argrave clapped once, drawing everyone’s attention. “This place should be safe to speak. Even Gerechtigkeit himself can’t peak through these walls, isn’t that right?” He looked at the Alchemist.

“To the point,” the Alchemist insisted.

Argrave smiled. “Ideally, I’d like everyone here today to walk away from this with a solid grasp of my intentions in mind. Honestly, I’m not sure how you’ll feel about this, Orion, but I think you’ve become even-tempered enough to broach the idea.”

“I’m… honored that Your Majesty believes so,” Orion dipped his head, then set his golden helmet upon the table.

Argrave nodded. “Everyone here knows how powerful the divine are. Anneliese, Orion, and I have more personal experience, but I think everyone knows about the Shadowlander.” He pointed his finger up and shook it. “We are at a disadvantage in the fights ahead. But society is built off of cooperation and alliances. Even the gods aren’t exempt from this.”

Argrave lowered his pointed finger and leaned over the sleek black table. “It’s time we seek to ally with the gods themselves, and earn their boons. This is both for another unrelated matter, and for the future of the kingdom. The Alchemist and I gathered here today to help you walk this path, provided you’re willing.”

Durran crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes—he had a low opinion of the gods, Argrave knew. Melanie reacted in abject surprise. Orion’s reaction was startlingly calm. Everyone else had been informed in advance.

“Ally, not… worship, right?” Melanie pressed.

Argrave nodded. “It’d be an arrangement of mutual benefit, not one of reverence. They may ask certain things of you—wear a symbol, allow them to spread their faith—but all in all, we’re seeking out gods that are already interested in each of us. We’ve built something on Berendar that the gods need more than they might realize. And that’s a foothold on this continent.”

you can ask for appreciably small obligations. But among them, most importantly, is that the champion must take a pivotal role in resolving the conflicts of

To that end, I’ve picked out several gods I believe would best serve each of you.” Argrave tapped the table, looking up at the Alchemist. The man waved his hand toward the table,

loyalty from subordinates by entering into a contract with them. Similarly, he might receive benefits from his own loyalty, or might grow in strength from the number of honorable people he employs. I believe it will suit his role as knight-commander well. And given what I

be found wanting in

those blessings. Could be he secures none. And that

gods for cripples

eye of three gods. There’s Old Iron Miser, a god of wealth and war. His role in the cycle of judgment is facilitating the exchange of goods and services. You could have a network of otherworldly trade and mercenaries at your disposal.” Argrave slid over a piece

two goddess idols over to Elenore, and the princess studied them as

had the most choices. Wildly intelligent, skilled, empathetic, magically talented, knowledge-seeking, and in Argrave’s opinion,

with ones I’ll be seeking out. First, one known only as Law. Formless god of rulership, justice, and authority. Poises himself as Gerechtigkeit’s enemy. I figure there’s some bargaining space there… and his blessings allow for peaceful resolution of disputes through subjugation, alongside ridiculously broad abilities that enable the bearer to give just about any buff. Though extremely

a

blessings are quite useful. She has a lot of knowledge and unique spells, but above all, can allow one to use magic as a force unto itself, foregoing spells or other such refinements. Ignoring that, she has plenty of other miscellaneous powerups. Might be

strategy, and ruthless destruction.” Argrave picked up the black figure. The man depicted looked quite terrifying—bearded, brawny, yet with an eerie calm

high opinion of your queen,”

noted, “He’s the one who fought

I know. But if it happens, we save ourselves from a fearsome foe. And given his exclusivity, we can guarantee he’ll fight on our side.” Argrave set the piece down. “Now, for

seeing some favoritism

no illusions can fool you. Any magical details about another will be revealed. You can essentially see the truths of the universe. I thought

will follow through. But I believe I will cause inadvertent problems. The

that, half-expecting that response. He gave a slow, steady nod. “Alright. I hope that, if you find someone worth championing, you’ll at least consider it.” He turned his head to the next.

Argrave had decided on the god that was the perfectfit for her long

want. Ideally, I’d like you to go with Raccomen, the god of space. By granting the ability to cut through space, he’ll allow you unparalleled access to most areas, and once you master his abilities, you’d dominate any battlefield you’d enter. Those

but he couldn’t deny her eyes went to other figures more than Raccomen’s. He slid Raccomen’s symbol to her,