Jackal Among Snakes

In planning for this heist, they’d long ago discussed in detail how, precisely, things would play out. Argrave ran through his words in his head as the Alchemist disassembled a wall in this pitch-black place.

“There are a few pivotal things we need to keep in mind about Erlebnis’ realm,” Argrave explained. “The most important responsibility of all—we cannot allow ourselves to confront Erlebnis directly. Going to the White Planes has protected us from the pressure exerted by divinity, but that doesn’t change the fact he can squash us with a wave of a hand. If we do succeed in bringing Mozzahr over, I suspect that Erlebnis will dedicate most of his attention to that monstrosity rampaging through his realm in search of an exit. That’ll be a big boon, allowing freedom of movement.

“There are a few locations, however, where Erlebnis has omniscience, and he’ll spot us regardless.” Argrave continued. “The Lexicons—the areas that serve as a nexus between all of the Annals of the Universe—are off limits. He’ll spot us in seconds, and considering its role as a place of quick movement, thousands of his emissaries will be upon us before we can blink. In other words… we’re on foot, and on our own.”

Snapped back to focus when a piece of the wall fell, Argrave looked at all of his companions. Everyone seemed just as paranoid as he felt, flinching at the distant rumblings Mozzahr caused as he searched for them. Argrave felt quite exposed without the protection of the Domain of Law, but they were very nearly free of this place.

Finally, red light fell upon them, causing everyone to flinch away. The Alchemist pulled the rest of the wall away, using his body to push past.

“Come. Mozzahr will notice this exit for certain,” the Alchemist said, beckoning them onward.

They all rushed into the new hole, eager to be free of this dark chamber. And once outside, they entered into Erlebnis’ realm in its more complete state. Though they all were eager to move, the sheer oddity of this place made their steps falter for a brief moment.

Erlebnis’ emissaries were hollow mockeries of humans and elves with misshapen hands, enlarged limbs, and misplaced orifices. They were wrong in a way that unsettling and uncanny. His realm was a continuance of that trend—almost a copy of the world of mortals, but wrong so obviously and so unrepentantly that it only rattled the nerves.

Above, the sky was red and metallic, and rippled as though it was a liquid with strong winds gusting over its surface. Whatever the sky was, it illuminated the entire area in red light that lent a bleak and hellish atmosphere to it all. But it was what was on the ground that truly disturbed the senses.

far as the eye could see, brown cities rose up into the sky. Their buildings were not a pleasant beige nor a rich oak, but a dirty and foul color like mud. They looked as though they were built of bricks, but that wasn’t the case. Close scrutiny of these ‘bricks’ would reveal that they had words on them, and if one were to pry it free of whatever shoddy construction it held steady, one would find they were

simply wrong. The reason for the ugliness was simple: Erlebnis and his servants had

area that they’d come from was a giant cube the same color brown as

writhe out of his clothing. But he knew to remain calm—it was all a trick of the mind. This was another helping hand that Rook, god of deception and subterfuge, lent to them.

never engage with Erlebnis’ servants. They will know you are not part of their collective with one word exchanged. Emissaries travel alone—we should split up so as not to draw any attention.

and obeyed, walking from the unfinished archive. When they finally reached the city, where living things entered into sight, they parted ways and took different paths without further words. Erlebnis’ grotesque emissaries wandered the streets, pulling books from the walls and the streets and indulging in them with measured precision. There were trees and bushes planted into pots and little gardens, but the

into the sea of ugly buildings, a wave of force reverberated behind them. As the Alchemist had said, Mozzahr had found the hole in the wall, and stood scanning the

“Argrave!” He screamed, drawing out the name. Even so far away, his voice was powerful enough

emissaries seemed to be seized by an invisible thought, and thousands of them broke away from their task to go confront Mozzahr. They stepped out of the city as Argrave stepped within, alone. Though none moved to stop him, and though countless had just left to deal with this new threat of Mozzahr, the emissaries still made this place dense. It was all he could do to avoid bumping into them, and his heart beat fast with the knowledge that

every street that Argrave walked through, every alley he looked down, and every building he poked his head inside had an emissary busily engaged in a task. Argrave feared every misshapen eye that came his way, and flinched every time his foot hit the ground. He was transformed, but he felt they must

deeper into this twisted city with their task as his sole comfort as he heard the sounds of fire, lightning, and general destruction caused by Mozzahr’s

Starsparrow is perched atop the spike cresting it. She

brown. Though he felt the need to sprint,

when Argrave entered the lobby, he cringed when he saw about a dozen emissaries on its floor. He briefly questioned if he’d gone into the wrong

“She says there’s a ladder that leads to

and found them quickly. He walked up, holding onto the rails tightly. Others followed him, and he managed to recognize his companions’