Jackal Among Snakes

Though Galamon was acutely aware of the massive storm brewing far behind the battlefield, his years of experience in command made him keep focused on the task that had been assigned to him—total subjugation of the invading force. To that end, he enacted an efficient tactic to subdue these turtle ships brought from the north by the Great Chu. This tactic, with Rowe and his dragon hassling their rear, was like the quicksand of the Burnt Desert—the fiercer they thrashed, the more their life was threatened.

Durran’s wyverns circled the edge of the battle, bearing two riders on their backs at all times. One rider guided the wyvern, while the other directed powerful spells at the ships. The flying mounts gave the spellcasters mobility and vantage that was not easily combatted, and the advantage provided ample opportunity for Galamon to enact his plan. Either the enemy devoted spellcasters to combatting the forces in the sky, or they left themselves open to Galamon’s navy. They chose the latter, for at least then it became a contest between navies.

Galamon stayed removed from the battle, more than a dozen birds perched on his crossed arms.

“Relvan, advance and board. Company, disengage and head west. Siren, enemies approach on the east—abandon the grapple, disengage and fall back until you receive further orders.”

These birds on Galamon’s arms were linked to druidic spellcasters. When he gave a command, it could be immediately relayed to all those underneath him. This brutally efficient command structure ensured that they were always a step ahead of their invaders. The tactic that Galamon employed required heavy amounts of coordination. This sort of coordination was necessary against this navy. They fired ranged weapons from covered positions—crossbows and bows, oftentimes magic. The Veidimen had ranged weapons of their own, but the iron plating of the ships that gave these turtle ships their name made ranged retaliation a losing battle.

Veidimen longships operated in pairs for this operation. Though both, in part, were intended to manipulate the opposing ships, one was assigned as the boarder and another as the herder. It was the herder’s duty to attach itself to one of the ships with grappling hooks. From there, the Veidimen would pull the heavy ships by use of their numerous and superior oarsmen. Galamon and every captain had long ago mapped out which parts of the water had dangerous shallow rocks, barely concealed beneath turbulent waters. They pushed these invaders, both by grappling and by reckless ramming, into these shallows. The turtle ships were ridiculously heavy yet sunk deeper into the ocean than Veidimen longships, so it was an easier task than might be expected.

When a turtle ship’s hull was breached by rocks in shallow waters, or when one was more simply separated from their main unit, the longships in reserve would swarm the ship, climbing atop the iron-plated shell protecting the seamen within. With combined might, the Veidimen would pry these iron plates off the ship one by one, then swarm inside to commandeer the vessel. There, the true battle began.

With Veid working through Galamon as Her champion, all these thousands at sea were empowered by Her divinity. They were bolstered by unfaltering courage, limitless stamina, and a total unity with their comrades. Though the ignorant might claim these boons were meager offerings, any who had been to war would see their utility. In battle, hesitation sometimes afflicted even the steel-willed, yet with Veid at their backs that was gone. In battle, hours after hours of rowing oars and hacking with an axe could tire even the hardiest of warriors, but Veid ensured the seventieth blow would be just as fierce as the first. And in battle, the chaos and confusion led to comrades accidently striking one another far too often. That, too, was but a distant memory under Veid’s banner.

With Veid at their backs, the Veidimen became the perfect army. And Galamon championed Her, that Her vision might spread throughout the entire world.

water lifelessly, carried down by the weight of their armor. Some few abandoned their ships in abject fear—these struggled desperately to stay afloat. Their armor was

a maneuver that Argrave had informed him of long in advance. His wariness proved well justified when he spotted ports open on the front of the ships. A stylized turtle head jutted

back,” he said loudly, then repeated it

pressed backward. Though the order was well-timed, Galamon saw for himself the pure destructive might of the liquid fire the Great Chu had devised. The turtle heads in front of the

initial momentum and the winds of the storm ahead. The Veidimen had been prepared for this, but perhaps ten vessels were consumed in the flames at once—those too slow to disengage, or those occupied with boarding. Just as many if not more Great Chu vessels succumbed to the fires as the Imperial

yet many couldn’t and burned alive screaming. The smell of burnt flesh and wood spread so quickly that Galamon smelled it in seconds, and Argrave saw blood dye the ocean as dead and living both were torn apart by the Irontooth

patch of floating felt blocked the ceaseless advance of this fire. Though crude, it sufficed. Galamon gave a self-satisfied

some of their own turtle ships in these tumultuous waters, but by and large, the Imperial Navy had created a temporary stalemate. The Great Chu still outnumbered the Veidimen longships, though now to a lesser degree. Galamon felt that victory was at hand—their opponent had earned themselves a moment of reprise, but in so doing expended their trump card. If all went well, Argrave would subdue the emperor and the admiral, and

With his sharp senses, he spotted someone approaching the heart of this storm. Someone with red hair and a huge physique: namely, Sataistador. And as he entered, storm and wave both trembled as if in fear. There, gods would clash as

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not as sophisticated as his command over his druidic bonds. They did encounter the emperor, coming upon him in one of the lower hallways. He was ignorant of

prudently left two of his personal guard behind to hold Argrave off, and then fell back to a more favorable position. Indeed, only two—and with these two, their party faced

undeniable presence. From the back, one bore a bow firing magic-imbued projectiles. The frontliner had a

they were lightning spells, this vanguard warrior caught a dozen C-rank spells imbued with blood with his blade alone, blocking them like attacks as ordinary as any others. The Veidimen swarmed past

The Veidimen recovered and tried to slap the blade away with his shield, only barely preserving his life. The guard kicked him away… where a perfectly aimed arrow from the archer pierced through the Veidimen’s helmet, killing him instantly. All of the frontliner’s moves possessed the uncanny grace of a practiced martial art. Argrave, though, kept his eye on the archer.

bearing down on this imperial guard. With dagger and sword, he fended off the probing attacks as the archer behind mercilessly fired upon them. When one of the Veidimen overextended, the guard again hooked an axe with the hilt of his dagger and pulled the towering elf forward in a familiar, practiced gesture. The others rushed to punish the occupied imperial guard, perhaps hoping

Argrave long ago saw the archer pull an arrow back and so conjured a shade. The bowman, though, somehow noticed the attack before it hit, and rolled forth without releasing the bowstring. The archer’s dodge was fast enough he gained stable footing and released the bow, whereupon the arrow pierced the visor of the off-balance Veidimen. With two of his allies dead, the third Veidimen finally cleaved into the frontliner’s skull,

were forced to slow, but Vera stepped ahead with her right