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.

the creations that were maintaining their lives of calm bliss. They had a great deal of time before that happened,

coming?” asked his escort, prompting Durran to follow along into a

finally gave some sign that these people did some labor. But by ‘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 smoke, heat, and intense light. It seemed to be idle now, but it was kept warm nonetheless. Several people sat by the furnace, using its light to read

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

was assistant to the golem master, helping him pour the metal, make more golems, the works.” the escort explained. “I’ll wait out

area. The wyvern bone glaive caught the spell, and the blade itself started to glow like a lantern. Huge figures to his left made him flinch, but he quickly relaxed when he realized

around the warehouse, but there were only golems all to his left. On the right, dangling just beside the walkway, detached golem arms hung in long rows. Durran was going to dismiss their presence before he noticed they were strangely morphed.

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 extremely heavy, and Durran looked up at the thick chains keeping it up in the air. If this thing could move and function as a golem… the monstrous creations would be

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

meant to

first. In his peripheries, he saw a black-haired man crouching. His right arm was pointed toward him, and

“Dario, right? Master of stealth indeed. I like to think I’ve got good hearing, but even in

the wall,” Dario said quietly. “Face it, kneel.

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

you. Need you

from another world? Are you blessed by a god?” Durran rattled

yelled. “Step

near something you need? I got word from Elenore—you were making golem cores down there in the dwarven lands. Did you come here to make the golems you needed… or to