Jackal Among Snakes

“More fool me…” muttered Durran as he followed in pursuit of a pale-skinned man in a spacious cavern.

“Did you say something?” asked his escort, looking back curiously. He had red eyes and dark hair, marking him as one of the humans in the caverns below the mountains between the Burnt Desert and Vasquer.

Argrave and Durran had both shared similar thoughts about this man, Dario. They’d been under the impression that checking out the subterranean mountain people to look for a lead would be a waste of time. But as it turned out, Elenore had risen to where she was for a reason. There was a lead in these dank caverns—a lead his allies were more than willing to show him.

“After you show me his workshop, is there anyone that knew Dario? Someone I can talk to?” Durran asked, moving a little closer to his lead.

“Well…” the escort, a prominent man in their leadership structure, narrowed his eyes. They lingered on the glaive that he used as a walking stick. “It depends on what you want from this man.”

“I wouldn’t harm my ally’s people, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Durran said with a fatigued shake of his head. “I bring this glaive everywhere. Don’t worry about it. These days, I use this sword,” he said, tapping the blade on his left. “It’s positively divine. And it’ll remain sheathed, no matter who I meet, rest assured.”

“Members of our communes claimed that you used necromancy in removing Fellhorn’s influence from the land,” the escort noted. “We fought together to erase the Vessels, but there’s something to be said about those that would use the dead for their own end.”

Durran nodded. “Those were desperate measures. And I’ve been straying away from those magics, these days…” He focused on the man leading. “But if you’re so defensive about these people, why are you willing to give up Dario?”

“Because he left the communes,” the escort said simply. “He had no one tying him to this place. But one day, he became very… frenetic. Agitated. And after a near-disaster with a rockfall, he left to the mountains. It’s not the first time that cave-ins have dissuaded our people from the deep-dwelling life. But down here is still kinder than the surface. Or was, until the Vessels drained the aquifers. Now that they’re dead, we see little need to engage with others. Still, we owe you some favors.”

The pathway opened up into a mountain commune. Their people were casually relaxing in a serene and beautiful place, where elaborate structures of jade bore pillows. The black-haired, red-eyed people of the mountains lounged lazily while golden golems patrolled the place, both tending to the elaborate farms of edible greenery growing deep beneath the earth, and watching out for any intruders. Durran recalled their golems in battle, resisting the Vessels of Fellhorn to liberate the Burnt Desert. These mountain people each had golems enough to form a true army… but they lived in disparate places they called ‘communes,’ lounging, philosophizing, and using machines of war as common laborers.

apart by the creations that were maintaining their lives of calm bliss.

prompting Durran to follow along into

‘labor,’ this place was that which built their laborers. In the back, he felt a strong heat. He and the escort neared its source as the pressed inside. A huge furnace billowed

process had been made completely efficient, it seemed. The power that these deep-dwelling people could possess was quite alarming. It had been immensely difficult to persuade them to help Durran against Fellhorn and Titus, though—he couldn’t imagine it’d be easy to get them to do more. Even now, they languished in contentment. Their population was perhaps two thousand, and they did little more than exist. Their creations

the storeroom for unpowered golems. Dario was assistant to the golem master, helping him pour the metal, make more golems, the works.” the escort explained. “I’ll wait out here. You look for what you need to. I’d say not to break the golems… but I don’t think

relaxed when he realized they were silent and still golems. Long rows of golems stretched out endlessly in this square

all to his left. On the right, dangling just beside the walkway, detached golem

long row of arms lining the side of the room, trying to find some order in the chaos. And he did—each of these arms were made of different material, it looked like. Some were worse melted than others. While following the row, he realized that each of these arms were different trials. Their composition got better and better, and after a long string of failures each hand seemed to be less melted than the others. By the end of it, there was considerably less warping. And for the last few… none at all. He touched an unmorphed one. It was

against an empty frame. The frame was about the size of a body, and though it had nothing inside it, Durran thought it looked like it could hold a suit of armor rather well. Just beside it was a huge golem, hunched over and immobile. Unlike all of the others to his left, this one was a dull green. Durran could tell that this whole thing had endured intense heat. And even from a distance, he could tell it was made of

meant to

first. In his peripheries, he saw a black-haired man crouching. His right arm was pointed toward him, and atop it an ungainly crossbow aimed right at his

I like to think

quietly. “Face

me if that weapon’s half of what you say,” Durran pointed

hurt you. Need you to step away.”

an agent of Gerechtigkeit? Are you from another world? Are you blessed by a god?” Durran

Dario yelled. “Step

I’m near something you need? I got word from Elenore—you were making golem cores down there in the dwarven lands. Did