Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave steadily stepped up the jagged red crystals that bit at his boots. If there was one thing he had not expected to appreciate, it would be the enchanted boots. There was a limit to the level of comfort one could offer for footwear on Earth, even with advanced technology. Here, though, despite the sharp, ruby-colored crystals sticking up into his soles, he felt nothing. The only pain he felt was from the gradual wear and tear of walking.

The confines of the crystal cave were narrow and dark. There was a certain comfort to the narrowness—Argrave felt as though he was freed from the constant oppression that the openness of Nodremaid provided. Back there, the vast open space and looming buildings made him feel as though something could swoop down at any moment and end him. Here, he felt walled. This came with its own set of problems, naturally, but they paled in comparison.

“You’re sure this leads… anywhere?” questioned Garm, voice unlabored.

“Yes,” replied Argrave simply, finding himself annoyed by the head’s presence. Perhaps it was simply jealousy Garm did not need to endure this trek as Argrave did.

Ahead, the crystals cast eerie shadows like jagged teeth as the spell light dancing above Argrave’s head illuminated the cave. They came to a branching path. Galamon stopped, turning around and silently asking Argrave for direction. Argrave furrowed his brows, a bit uncertain—it was difficult to be certain the way he followed was right. It had been months since he’d been here in-game. He looked for obvious identifiers, and then he spotted a faint difference in the constant red. Movement.

Argrave knelt down and lowered his fingers. They came up red, and he felt an uncomfortable warmness seeping into his gloves. He followed the trickle of thick, viscous blood with his gaze, watching from where it flowed.

“We’re close, I think. Just follow the flow,” Argrave pointed, then wiped the blood off on his duster.

Galamon proceeded. The crystals started to grow from small, sharp things into large clumps, as though increasing in quality. At times, it made navigation a touch difficult, requiring uncomfortable stretching and twisting. Argrave had to stop the party to be sure his lungs were not overtaxed multiple times.

Yet their uncertain advance started to feel like genuine progress as the things around aligned themselves with Argrave’s memories of ‘Heroes of Berendar.’ The crystals grew larger yet, until the floor beneath them solidified into one giant crystal. The space continued to open, and Argrave greatly appreciated the opportunity to stand straight without fear of bumping his head against something. With it, though, came a whirling sense of nervousness and excitement both. With the Knight of the Wellspring lying ahead, it felt finally time to test his practice—his efforts over the months he had been here.

“Gods… the sheer level of power needed to create crystals this—”

“Shut up,” Argrave insisted in a whisper, turning back to Garm held in Anneliese’s hand. “Make no noise. I told you a fight lies ahead—don’t attract attention.”

Garm stared up at Argrave, saying nothing. He turned his gaze away, and Argrave took that as acquiescence.

Galamon proceeded deeper into the red crystal cave, his metal boots ringing pleasantly against the ruby-red crystals. Argrave could see the flow of blood beneath his feet grow thicker as they neared the Crimson Wellspring. Then, for the first time, there was a light ahead. Argrave stopped Anneliese, canceling his spell light and directing her to do the same.

They proceeded onwards until the narrow cave opened up into a vast cavern. Seeing a sight he remembered well, he took a deep breath as a strange sort of nostalgic awe rose in his chest.

This place had once been a council room of sorts. It was a circular room with a high ceiling, held up by four pillars. Stone chairs were arrayed in a circle around the center, while a chair in the center of this circle stood above the others. The chairs were occupied with humanoid figures—it was difficult to distinguish their features from the faint light emanating from the center of the room.

All of these things, though, had been supplanted by the crystalline growth identical to the caverns Argrave had come from. The crystals partially covered the pillars, as though reinforcing them. Many of the chairs were fully obscured by the crystals, the humanoid figures sat atop them encased in the ruby growth. In the center, the Crimson Wellspring floated, suspended in the air while emanating a bright red light that reflected off the surface of the crystals. The light made it difficult to make out its shape, yet a constant pour of blood emerged from it like water from a sink.

In the back of the room, seated on the main chair elevated above the rest, a distinctly disparate figure sat. It was a knight in armor. A sash of stone roses hung across his chest, marking him as a Stonepetal Sentinel. The stone roses had been turned into the same red crystals decorating the walls, though, and much of the armor was marred the same way, creating a rather ominous looking ruby-gray set of armor.

Claude, former Grandmaster Sentinel, sat in the chair with all the vigor of a corpse, a mace leaning up against his leg. To call him a corpse was an apt comparison—he was a husk controlled by the Wellspring, keeping it flowing until this day. His features could not be made out beneath the armor, but Argrave knew who it was.

Argrave knelt down, pulling everyone down with him. “There’s our foe. The Knight of the Wellspring.”

“…I have so many questions,” murmured Anneliese.

“You usually do,” Argrave acknowledged. “It’d be best if we stay focused, though.”

“Right,” she nodded after a long pause.

Argrave removed his backpack, laying it against a safe spot as he spoke. “If we step into the room, I’m sure he’ll come alive. But, we have the initiative. To begin: Galamon,” Argrave pointed. “You’ll hit him with arrows enchanted with fire—his armor will negate most of the damage, but fire is especially effective against him. After this, you’ll move up to meet him. I suggest bringing your Ebonice axe to dispel his blood magic and the dagger enchanted with flame for high damage.”

“You told me never to contest his strength, that he was much stronger than me,” Galamon said, looking at Argrave as he removed his own pack. “I’ll use my greatsword in the other hand. The dagger… I need to get too close. Unideal if the opponent is stronger and faster than me, as you claim.”

Argrave nodded. “You’d know best.” He looked to Anneliese, who had also set aside her pack for the fight. “You and me—we’ll stick close, near one of the pillars. Easier to take cover. We can watch each other’s backs, conjure B-rank wards if needed. From there… you aid Galamon. [Skysunder] will be best here—fast, potent, perfect for Claude. You’ll see why I insisted you learn lightning elemental magic first. Meanwhile… I’ll do my thing.”

Anneliese nodded. She raised Garm up. “Should I…?”

Argrave stared down at Garm. “Leave him someplace safe. He’s another variable—unpredictable, and I hadn’t really expected to… well, make use of him, even if he can help.”

Garm pursed his lips, then closed his eyes. “Won’t complain at this arrangement.”

Anneliese moved to do as Argrave had suggested, perching Garm in an area that he was facing upright. Argrave took the time to stare at Claude. Watching the Knight of the Wellspring sitting there, immobile, made him wish to rush in and start things, if only for the sake of dispelling his unease.

But eventually, Anneliese returned, Garm placed a fair distance away. Argrave looked between the two of his companions.

“Listen. The only way I can see this going sour is if someone gets hasty. You two are damned smart, and I’d want no one else by my side, so I don’t see that happening. Still, just to reiterate… we stick to what we discussed. Any questions, uncertainties? Now’s the time.” Argrave moved his head between the two of them, waiting. When nothing came, he took a deep breath, the dull ache of pain in his chest serving to ground him to reality.

“Anneliese, let’s move to the pillars. Once we’re there…”

“I’ll begin,” finished Galamon, already readying an arrow that shone with red light on its arrowhead.

Argrave gave a wordless nod in return, then touched Anneliese’s shoulder to get her attention. They moved along the edge of the room, Anneliese watching the bodies encased within the crystal with an insatiable curiosity even amidst the tension. Argrave knelt up beside the crystal-encased stone pillar and spared a glance at Galamon before refocusing on the Knight of the Wellspring, Anneliese just beside him.

“Wait until I direct you to attack,” Argrave whispered to Anneliese. Anneliese had a complex spell matrix in hand, ready to attack at a moment’s notice. Argrave, though, had something else in mind. He held both of his hands out, and eels of blue lightning emerged from his hand, dancing up into the sky in a spiral. Though he lacked the Blessing of Erlebnis, their plan involved the usage of [Electric Eel]. His magic alone would be sufficient, he suspected—it merely lacked a safety net, now.

The few seconds of tense quietude set Argrave’s heart beating faster every second. A twang sounded out in the soundless cavern, and a flaming arrow coursed out through the center of the room. It struck into the visor of the helmet, and Argrave could not help but be awed at the elf’s marksmanship in spite of the situation.

Despite the arrow jutting out of its face, the Knight of the Wellspring immediately sprung to life. It fell forward, sending the mace leaning against its legs rolling out across the floor. Claude rolled, then came to his feet in a fluid motion. He pulled free the bloodied arrow, casting it aside, then held both of his hands out. The flowing stream of blood pouring from the Wellspring diverted its course, surging through the air as though alive. It split near Claude’s hands, gradually coalescing into two twin blades—simple broadswords with flat heads.

Without a word, the Knight of the Wellspring rushed forth, metal boots ringing against the red crystals beneath its feet. Galamon had prepared another arrow and loosed it at its charge. The knight slowed, doing a pivot-spin on one foot to dodge the arrow with supernatural speed. Galamon set his bow aside, grabbing his Ebonice axe and his greatsword. He stepped forth to meet it.

When the two were perhaps ten feet from each other, Argrave said, “Anneliese!” loudly.

Two white bolts of lightning shot out from Anneliese’s hand across the room, blinding with light and deafening with sound. Both hit home, striking the Knight of the Wellspring soundly in two points. The undead knight spasmed, and Galamon swung his greatsword with one hand. A blade of wind closed the gap, yet Claude still managed to block the attack with his blades. Blood from the blades scattered over his armor, loosed by the attack’s intensity. When the knight recovered, it threw one of its blades at Anneliese, and Argrave ducked behind the pillar, pulling Anneliese with him.

The blade shattered against the pillar, creating a foot-deep gash in the stone and scattering blood against the wall. The blood dripped down, yet then began to bubble, surging back through the air towards the Knight of the Wellspring. Claude started to move towards their position, yet Galamon placed himself in its path, swinging his sword once more.

Argrave continued to use [Electric Eel], feeling his magic diminish as he prepared. He kept the spells just out of sight. A cloud of dancing blue electricity hovered behind the pillars—a lurking leviathan of lightning.

Galamon kept Claude locked in combat, using his enchanted blade to maintain a cautious distance. The knight blocked and dodged blow after blow with its one sword, but when the second blade of blood reformed in its hand, it rushed at Galamon, keeping a low profile.

When the two grew near, Argrave emerged from the pillar, seeking an opportunity. The knight swept its left hand, cutting horizontally, and Galamon barely dodged. The second blade descended in a dreadful overhead blow. Galamon swung the Ebonice axe, meeting the attack. Once the black ice met the blade of blood, it bubbled before dispersing, pouring over Galamon’s armor ineffectually. The axe continued, striking the Knight of the Wellspring in the helmet. It staggered, rolling away with an animalistic haste.

With distance between the two, Anneliese shot out another volley of [Skysunder] from each hand. The knight had been anticipating her attack, and though it tried to dodge, the raw speed of the magic still managed to strike it. One bolt missed, impacting with the red crystal just behind it.

Seeing Anneliese as a threat, the Knight of the Wellspring broke off from Galamon, rushing towards them with a single-minded purpose. Argrave smiled, clenching his hands. Galamon rushed across the room as fast as he could, yet the Knight of the Wellspring was much, much faster.

Anneliese waited, hands at the ready, yet cast no spells. She waited, watching, with Argrave doing the same. Once the creature was near, it leapt, and Anneliese conjured a B-rank ward with her enchanted ring. The two blades of blood stabbed into the golden ward, breaking past them. Argrave conjured his own ward with his ring. The attack’s momentum was diminished from the first ward, and the blades bounced back.

Just then, Argrave willed the spells he’d prepared down. The Knight of the Wellspring looked up and frantically tried to move away, but the close proximity removed that option. Near twenty [Electric Eels] surged down, their high-pitched sparking sounding like myriad war cries, and the Knight danced with light and electricity as the enchanted armor it wore shone to protect its wearer. Anneliese, too, bombarded the creature with [Skysunder].

As it struggled with their relentless barrage, Galamon caught up. He raised his greatsword, thrusting the kriegsmesser into the back of the knight’s neck, pushing down into its torso. The blow was savage enough to force the Knight of the Wellspring to its knees, cracking the crystal beneath it. Galamon pulled his blade free, blades of wind scattering everywhere, and stabbed once more. He twisted the blade, and then freed it of the abominable undead.

The undead Claude knelt there, still sparking with electricity from their earlier assault. The swords of blood in its hands began to melt, falling to the floor. The Knight of the Wellspring slowly collapsed against the ground, scattering crystals into the air. Blood started to pour from every hole in its armor, as though a dam had just been broken.

“…it’s over,” Argrave said, leaning against the pillar. He started to laugh in triumph.