Jackal Among Snakes

“Durran told me you said that these were made to kill gods,” Argrave said, staring down upon a ballista. It was entirely metallic, even the string that fired the bolt. He had seen it fire, and when it did, it let out a deep resonating rumble that might be used for music were it not so intimidating. He turned his head to its maker, Dario. “Was that a bluff?”

Dario sat on a chair, his crutches at his side. His arms were wrapped in bandages—if they weren’t wrapped, they would bleed profusely. He had braces on his legs that kept them from bending. His bones were more pliable than others, and without the braces his limbs would bend and eventually snap if he put excessive pressure on them. In summary, he was totally and utterly ruined after assisting the Heralds in trying to keep Argrave from Sandelabara. But still he lived, and surprisingly… still he served.

Dario gestured at it weakly. “When I had one strapped to my arm, the Heralds powered them. These models are magic or lightning powered, like the rest of my people’s work. They’re less powerful, but still miles ahead of any weapons your army has. They can kill lesser gods, damage greater ones. As for ancient gods, I’m skeptical.”

“How many have you made?” Argrave asked, touching it and moving it about with his hand.

“About two thousand.”

Argrave stopped and looked at him. “I said ‘made,’ not ‘will make.’”

Dario grabbed his crutches and rose. “And I said two thousand.”

Argrave followed the crippled master artificer as he shambled through his workshop. Though technically imprisoned, Elenore had ordered a workshop built in Vysenn that employed the magma in the volcano to operate forges of higher metals—both dwarven, and what the subterranean mountain people used for their golems. Considering Gerechtigkeit was bound to commandeer golems when he descended, they couldn’t make any constructs. Instead, Dario made these ballistae en masse. Argrave hadn’t been expecting much, but Dario led him into another room.

Rows of these weapons of war spread out before Argrave, all of them so recently forged that they hadn’t even collected dust. Each and every one looked factory made. He supposed the casting part would be rather easy to perfect, but as far as he knew, Dario would have to manually carve energy pathways that transferred power from a core into the metal to give it power and purpose.

Argrave looked around in wonder. “Did Elenore give you assistants?”

“She offered, but I turned them away. Even I won’t give away my people’s secrets so easily. All I have are constant guards,” Dario referenced, looking back where a few armored mages watched vigilantly. “I’ve decided to make these weapons every second I’m awake. It’s harder to think about what I’ve done when I’m working. There’s just the heat of the forge reminding me that if I make a mistake, I’ll lose fingers or worse. Then, I chisel the energy pathways into the ballista and its power core until I run out of raw materials.”

“How did you learn all of this? I don’t remember you in the place I came from,” Argrave said bluntly.

“I wasn’t special. Right tool, right place, right time. The Heralds led me, and I learned from dreams,” Dario recounted. “Forgotten methods. Forgotten forges. They showed me the Iron Giants and much more. Our people were devastated by golems in the last cycle… yet still, we haven’t fully learned our lesson.” He looked to Argrave. “I’ll work day and night until my body gives up. But I hope I can ask something of you, Your Majesty.”

“…go ahead,” Argrave gestured.

“Consider my perspective. Give up this foolish pursuit, and return Sophia to the Heralds.” He ground his walking aids against the ground. “And if you don’t… at least save my people.”

Dario didn’t wait for an answer. He walked down, crutches clinking against the stone, until he got to his workbench. There, the magma of Vysenn roared heat into the room. He merely got back to work, casting metal as he chiseled energy pathways into the pieces which had already been forged.

Argrave examined the ballistae once more. He had come here to get a little more insurance against Sataistador for this coming meeting, but Elenore said that he might be surprised by what he saw. He agreed with her sentiment. Dario had made something suitable to arm an army. If these ballistae could be powered, they would have a tremendous advantage against the forces of the Great Chu.

He looked with pity at the man broken far beyond what magic could fix. Maybe in another life… things

this wasn’t the

#####

the alabaster-skinned tribes were largely under the thumb of Vasquer. Argrave had kept his promise and vacated their land after the business in Sandelabara, but extended contact with Vasquer and witnessing the refugees

permitted traders, and Elenore had obviously been allowed to construct the workshop Dario and other craftsmen resided in. It was somewhat colonialist, but the tribesmen certainly weren’t being treated unfairly. About a thousand of their number had joined the army, and were undergoing basic training as Argrave stood here. Warriors that were fearless and regenerative—the Veidimen warriors would make great troops out of them, and in return, their families would be living in the shelter of Blackgard while the troops themselves earning

different cultures. Mial, Mozzahr’s daughter, had a similar role around the remnants of the Ebon Cult, who were accepting that Mozzahr had died and truly beginning the difficult process of integrating into Vasquer society. They kept a close eye on how things proceeded,

plains before Vysenn. Argrave broke from his thinking when he saw the red-haired god of war kneeling down in a field of tall

with all the well-crafted armor beneath bearing his personal sun and snake heraldry. Sometimes he did feel a little ridiculous in such an elaborate getup, but he couldn’t deny he did love looking sharp, doubly so

bushes—nothing in one second, then an image that sparked a primal

belongs on Royal Road.

lot of rather interesting weapons nearby,” the god greeted

transported north,” Argrave said,

I’d be careful. If you have them loaded and ready to shoot while you’re transporting them, they might accidentally

smiled broadly. “Thank you for the advice. I’ll take it to heart once we finish this

“Fair enough. I’d hoped to have this conversation in Blackgard, but you’ve fortified that place well enough that even I had trouble slipping by. The all-seeing snake, the magic wards in the sky and the land… why, it’s a final bastion. What’s so important in there? People? Or something

Argrave. “Your plan to counterattack the Qircassian Coalition fell apart. We were wondering if you had

predatory green eyes. “Why

are you,” Anneliese crossed her arms,

Do you think I expected them to set up that weapon they’re using? The Sky Tower, they call it.” Sataistador looked back to where the Great Chu was, reminiscing. “Qircassia’s creation, but Erlebnis’ design. It’s a great pillar of clouds in the sky, erupting like a volcano day after day. You can feel the rumblings from

“I think that your role has to change. You need to make sure we can sail overseas without being disturbed by something. We join forces, and we kill them

arms. “Well… wonders never cease. You’re turning out

Veidimen as lone invaders. He needed to get rid of his largest

most is for you to sail overseas,” Sataistador said plainly. “That liquid fire you dealt with against their fleet—Great Chu docks abound with the stuff. They can set miles of the ocean aflame for months while they bombard your fleet with their magic—though, they queerly call

Anneliese said. “Besides, their magic bombardments

those are only mortal means,” Sataistador shook his

have some of our

his head. “Isn’t the Blackgard Union a defensive

that.” Argrave gave a false smile. “I have some plans of my own, you

yours. I intended to groom Melanie for that role, but she seemed to view you as a better prospect than me. No matter. How would you like me

end. All we want from you is to abate the pressure the gods of the Qircassian Coalition cause. Hunt them, tear them apart, and eat them alive.” Argrave gestured. “Sounds like something

distract the more