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.

tapped a ballista’s brace. He looked with pity at the man broken far beyond what magic

this

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Vysenn people in this region. Now, the alabaster-skinned tribes were largely under the thumb of Vasquer. Argrave had kept his promise and vacated their land after

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

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.

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

with Anneliese alone for this meeting. They both wore the armor that Artur had crafted for them—his black and gold coat, hers white and amber, 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

they approached, Sataistador stood up. He was like a lion emerging from the bushes—nothing in one second, then an image that sparked a primal fear in the next. Wearing barbaric armor and bearing many weapons on his

alert: this content belongs

lot of rather interesting weapons nearby,” the

Argrave said, excuse

ready to shoot while you’re transporting them, they

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

I had trouble slipping by. The all-seeing snake, the magic wards in the sky and the

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

her with his predatory green

you are you,” Anneliese

nodded. “But I was actually rather fond of that plan. 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

forever,” Argrave disclosed bluntly. “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,

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

half-measure that was sending the Veidimen as lone invaders. He needed to get rid of his largest opposition once and for all, liberate the Great Chu, and turn the world against the true

fleet—Great Chu docks abound with the stuff. They can set miles

a plan for that,” Anneliese said. “Besides, their magic bombardments would

Sataistador shook his head. “They

we have some of

head. “Isn’t the Blackgard Union a defensive

can persuade them of that.” Argrave gave a false

that I had a woman like yours. I intended to groom Melanie for that role, but she seemed to view you as a better prospect than

magic, the docks—we’ll handle that on our 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 you’d

me to distract the more notable members of the