Keke reached out and grabbed Pasurendra's blade. He wouldn't need it anymore, he was vanquished and more importantly he was beneath her notice now. He had been defeated and would be forced to retreat in shame, and given the dragon shackles that Martinez had slipped on him, she knew it would not be an easy transition.

The golden blade was large but surprisingly light and balanced. Keke preferred one handed or light weapons, but after giving this sword a few practice swings she judged she could get use to something like this. With a new blade in hand she began to stalk through the rubble and debris which began to form a maze through this once large chamber.

'Ritual chamber ' she corrected herself as she saw runes of power laid about in concentric circles about the room. When she reached the center she saw a large pit with a shaft of violet energies streaming from the ground up. She immediately noticed the shaft shrinking though but it had already bored a large hole through the chamber's roof. Several pulses of energy streaked upwards and formed into lesser demons and Asura as they broke free of the beam. Dretches, Rutterkin, and even tiny Tripasura formed and quickly scattered out of sight behind the stone roof.

Keke watched as a particularly large pulse of energy streamed upwards and formed what looked like a Upasunda, a six armed creature similar to herself except with three heads and no snake tail. The Upasunda materialized out of the energy ready to do battle, but before it could, a colossus golden reptilian hand snapped out and grabbed her, crushing the lesser Asura as it screeched in pain before Keke's eyes. Not that Keke minded, though they were both Asura, kind of, she always felt the Upasunda were pale imitations of herself and thought good riddance to that trash.

Oddly Keke felt a great animosity towards the golden claw and whatever creature it was attached to. She had the urge to climb up the shaft to confront it, however there was something she had to accomplish in the chamber first. She wasn't sure if she believed Pasurendra's story that the Celestial lady Raziel was a fragment of Taraksun, but there was something that rang true about it. Since she never viewed Raziel directly on the Concordant Crossroads she could not use her true vision to confirm or disapprove this theory, but she felt she needed to confront her former lord about this matter nonetheless.

She was badly outmatched, but that didn't matter. She would take her vengeance on Raziel in whatever her present form was, and give Eliaos' spirit some rest.

Keke paused. She still wasn't sure if Eliaos had been a figment of her imagination or if he actually existed, were her interactions with him real? Those fanciful dreams could have been placed in her head while under the influence of the Torture Pits, and Pasurendra's tale was simply another jest to break her down. It didn't matter anymore. Even if they were dreams they felt real enough, and wasn't being a mortal all about cherishing your dreams?

She knew she only pretended to be mortal, but she had witnessed the power of a thought, of an idea. Whelp with her dreams of uniting with her mango banana boy, and even Stille's hope of curing that strangely slippery drunk Martinez. They seemed to hold value in dreams, even if they are fleeting and will never come to pass.

Keke didn't have anything so pure in her mind, she only valued vengeance, and the bloodier the better. That was something her Asura mind could easily grasp. With that bloody thought in mind, she hopped up on the largest piece of debris to seek out her prey.

It wasn't surprising that she easily spotted Taraksun, or Raziel, or whatever it called itself. The giant blue nine headed giant with eighteen arms was pretty easy to spot. What was surprising was that Taraksun appeared to be writhing on the ground, felled by numerous injuries. Several hands had been chopped off, many of his heads had their eyeballs poked or slashed out, and a particularly nasty arrow was wedged into the demi god's spine. While most of the wounds were in various states of regenerating, the arrow in his back however did not seem to be affected by Taraksun's recuperative powers.

"Keke , I still can't believe its you? I thought I lost you. Are you alright?" asked Whelp as she rushed to her side. Keke had lost her earlier, but was glad she was alright. Whelp and Selexia were her only friends afterall, and she didn't really trust Selexia. "We dug some girl out, she's in bad shape but I stabilize her. I don't believe it but Master Martinez and Baroness Stille are here, together we can…"

Keke silenced her and waved her away. "No, this is my fight," she said grimly in a voice that echoed death. Whelp hesitated, she despaired at the bodies littering the battlefield and almost blanched at one that was nearly severed in two. The priestess simply nodded and rushed to his aid.

Keke studied the struggling body of her former lord and focused her truesight on him. Though staring at Taraksun, the Awakener of Wrath, would often result in insanity of the most violent manner, Keke was pretty mad right now and didn't think another layer of rage fuelled madness would affect her much. As she stared, her suspicions were confirmed as a latent holy aura radiated from one of the heads surrounded by an ocean of darkness. It was powerful but not to the level one would suspect of a ruler of a plane of Mount Celestia.

"What are you?" asked Keke as she sauntered up to her fallen lord.

Taraksun ignored her as he struggled to reach backwards and yank the arrow from his spine. Keke frowned and simply kicked his hand away and asked her question again. "What are you?"

Taraksun glared at her and snarled. "I am Taraksun, the Awakener of Wrath. These wounds are nothing to me, soon I shall…"

Keke impaled Pasurendra's great sword into his shoulder. "No, not you..or you…or you…," she said as she pointed at his angry heads. She then pointed at a female head that once might have been considered angelic or even beautiful, but not while it twisted and contorted with rage and pain. "Who or what are you?"

The head glared at Keke with her one good eye, and then relaxed. "Ho, the slut awakes from her dream I see. Gloat while you can, but soon I shall rise and burn this world,…."

Keke interrupted the head with a solid punch to her good eye, quickly swelling and blackening it. "I'm going to ask nicely one more time, who or what are you? Or do you want me to get that priestess and bless my blade? I don't know if that will kill you, but we both know that it won't be pleasant."

Taraksun's woman head bared her sharp teeth and hissed. "I am the Shadow of Heaven. The aspect of Raziel. Courage given flesh to walk amongst the angels. The one whose true love betrayed her. The one that fell, and was found by the Awakener of Wrath."

Keke contemplated this statement. An Aspect of Raziel? That would explain its inherent weakness. While Avatars were the earth shattering will of the gods manifested in material form, Aspects were the lesser though still powerful forms of their Outerplanar patrons. While the thought of the Avatar of Raziel being absorbed by Taraksun was ridiculous, the Aspect of Raziel falling from grace was another matter.

"You kept me in the pit….and then released me….so you can torture me some more because you lost your man?"

"Aye….it was good sport watching the great General Kalikekeztra fail and lose face, not knowing why and who was thwarting her. I had more torments for you, but you left Abaddon on some fool errand. I would have sent hunters for you, but there were greater plots at hand."

"The end of the world thing. I approve, but sister…we need a reckoning you and I. I don't care for my happiness, but you got Eliaos killed and I demand blood, immortal blood. The kind of blood you don't come back from the Dead Book, blood. I will extract…"

"Pardon me General Kalikekeztra," said one of Raziel's adjacent heads. It was red with a bearded infernal look to him, but more importantly it appeared calm and did not sport the angry 'wrathful' look as Taraksun's other heads did. "As the Awakener of Wrath I fully understand your anger, but it seems this is between you and the 'Shadow of Heaven'. Normally we would back her up, but we have a ritual to complete, a world to tear asunder, and little time it seems. Rahu can not continue devouring the sun, and the spell is not complete, so I propose an accommodation, one that I assure you would find most….satisfying. "

Keke remained silent as she nodded for the red head to continue.

"As Taraksun, you know that I, we, are a conglomeration of several powerful entities. An Infernal Baron, an Abyssal lord, an outrider of Abaddon, and of course a fallen Celestial Aspect to name a few. We combine our powers to a common cause, but if one of our parts becomes a liability, well….let's say we have the power to extradite it."

"No…you can't do this!" shouted the Angelic head.

"My pardon Raziel," apologized the red head as a dozen arms grabbed the Angelic head and forcefully twisted and yanked it out of its blue body. Blood and ichor oozed out as Raziel's head screamed, as an emaciated winged celestial body was dragged out of the larger form before being tossed before a shocked and stunned Keke.

"I you can beat the Marilith we'll consider taking you back," said Taraksun as it rose wobbily to its feet. The arrow was still embedded in its back but it appeared to be surrounded by an ugly mass of bone spurs and lumpy scar tissue. While the arrow's wound did not heal, Taraksun's body simply grew around it.

The gaunt bloody form of Raziel rose to her feet and glared at Keke with an unholy anger. "You….you are responsible for this!"

Keke brandished her blade at the fallen angel. "Prepare to di…."

She didn't even get a chance to finish before Raziel was upon her with blinding speed.

Fleeting dreams danced in Javindar's head. Crowds of cheering people celebrating his victory over the Asura, his father praising him for his deeds and crowning him as Sultan, and finally his beautiful and doting wife waiting for him. The Holy Sampada, petite, beautiful, and demure. No…that wasn't her. That was the fake Holy Sampada. The real one was Whelp. Tall, unusually manly looking with a venomous tongue. Also Whelp, powerful, brave, courageous, with a burning sense of justice lost at sea, surrounded by savage Khanians. Javindar reached out to his love..

*SLAP*

"Wake up! "

Javindar's dream vanished as he forced his eyes open. Chloe kneeled above him as green motes flowed from her into his abdomen. Javindar stared at her and noticed she looked more wild and feral. Her silver hair turned green, even as vines and flowers began intertwining in it.

"It's not over yet," she said as she motioned behind her. Javindar saw Taraksun struggle to rise off in the distance, Red Flight's arrow still embedded in its spine, all the while conversing with an oddly familiar woman. "You fought the good fight, but we have to leave….now! That big guy is busy chatting with that crazy woman. Chances are that's bad news for us, since she beat the tar out of us on the beach earlier."

Javindar's eyes focuses and a hint of recognition flashed. That was the Marilith general he defeated, minus the snake body and two extra sets of arms. He defeated her last time, but he had an army at his back, one on one with his body broken as it was, it would be a much more difficult fight.

"Red Flight, I can loose another arrow," he gasped as Chloe helped him on his feet. He nocked an arrow but could not draw the bow. He could still feel her magic knitting his wounds, but he was far from full healthy.

"We have to leave…" pleaded Chloe. "Nymk and Nahbob have secured an escape route, but Demons, Asuras, whatever creepy crawly lower planar nasties are swarming this place. You see that purple light pillar right? Critters are still coming out of it, we're going to drown under their weight, or have ole nine head there stomp us himself."

Javindar shook his head and attempted to draw his bow again, he forced every bit of his strength left in his shattered body into the task. Surprisingly, even to himself, the bow string inched backwards, but just as he was to loose his arrow, his world shattered around him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Javindar spotted a small group of humanoids, led by a tall athletic woman with a spear skirting across the room. Whelp? She took care to give Taraksun a wide berth, and even glanced briefly in his direction. For a moment her expression softened to that of relief, but instead of running to his arms she glanced at the fallen Grommish hero and panic set in her. Instead of running towards him she went straight for severed man who had been pulled back behind Nahbob and Nymk, nervously guarding an alcove with spell and bow.

Javindar was crushed. His..his princess had abandoned him. At first he though she went to the man because he was more injured than he was, but when he saw the tender way she placed his head on her lap, and the tears of sorrow that streamed down her face, his world was shattered. She was with the man she loved, and it wasn't Prince Javindar, Bey of Ghata.

"Damn," interrupted Chloe. "That crazy hoplite chick is here to, and she's got Jimmy. Let's hope she doesn't flip out on us, she beat my ass on the beach earlier."

Even as the druid made the statement, Javindar could feel Taraksun's terrible presence flash in anger. He glanced at the Asura lord and saw he had risen again and was striding towards the Hero and Whelp. The Asura lord had suffered many injuries, including what appeared to be one missing head, several severed hands, and a distinct hunch in his spine, but that did little to temper his wrath.

Taraksun was out for blood, and he would not be denied.

Jimmy was freed. He was in the mango grove, his head rested on the lap of his girl, as the sun began to set in the west. All his mistakes he made in life were past him now as he waited for the stars to come out.

"Lady Whelp, I mean Lady Sampada…it's good to see you."

Jimmy frowned. What where these voices doing here, and why where they interrupting his final rest? Wasn't his passage to the Concordant Crossroads supposed to be a peaceful one?

"Nahob, why are you here?"

While it was barely audible and spoke a name he couldn't recognize, it was Sammy's voice. The same voice that haunted him in his dreams, the voice that he tried so long to hate and to forget, but he never could.

Jimmy opened his eyes and saw that he had been dragged into an alcove, outside the Asura Lord's chamber. A man in robes was at the chamber's entrance firing spells, and what looked like Nymk was loosing arrows. More importantly, above him like a hovering shadow was Sammy, crying.

"I..I thought I lost you,' she weeped softly seeing him awake. Although the world was ending around them, Jimmy felt an incredible peace about him, even more than in his recent dream.

"I'm okay, " he gasped trying to calm her down. From the way his wounds had partially mended he guessed that Chloe got to him first, though she was nowhere to be seen. Still he was minus one arm, but he wasn't that surprised. Regenerating limbs was one of the highest orders of Divine magic, even more difficult than bringing one back from the dead, so he didn't expect that to be coming anytime soon from either Chloe or Sammy. "I didn't need that arm anyways."

Sammy smiled through her tears but shook her head. "We have to go. The world is going to end because we failed, no…I failed. The ritual was stalled but has not ended, and we'll soon drown in Asura despite our efforts."

"No we won't and no you didn't," said Jimmy forcing himself to smile. The young Blade then drew forth his hidden bag of holding and withdrew the Black scroll he had hidden there. "You might have seen me give him something, but it was just a booby trap sword case I was saving for Ulfgar. I have your scroll right here."

Sammy took the scroll and kissed Jimmy's forehead. "I suspected as much, but one scroll won't be enough. The prophecy said we needed three scrolls and the holy woman of the East would drive the Asura out. "

"Don't forget the Hero, the blade, and the Dragon," said Martinez as he slipped out of the darkness, carrying what appeared to be a badly bruised Rina. Jimmy then choked as he watched following him through the darkness was what appeared to be the Baroness Stille, his guardian…his mother.

"My..m'lady," stammered Jimmy as he attempted to stand but Sammy easily pushed him down. Jimmy could not look at her directly, given the disappointment he had been. While Hoaglie had tasked him to bring the cursed sword to her for identification, that was business, this …this was something else.

Stille gave Jimmy a motherly smile. "It's good to see you Jimmez," she said with a wink. She then turned and joined Nymk and the man in robes. Jimmy couldn't see who they were fighting but even with the Baroness' strength they were getting pushed back.

"Save your strength we need to flee soon," said Sammy. She then paused and took a double take at Martinez. "Master Martinez? Is…is that you? Really you? How did you …nevermind …do you have that old Scroll you recovered from the Rakshasa Rajah roughly ten years ago? It's written on leathery black parchment, its about yay big…"

"How about two Sammy?" smiled Martinez as he produced a pair of similar looking documents.

"How…how did you come upon the other?" asked a very stunned Sammy.

"One of your countrymen had one," shrugged Martinez. "A guy by the name of Prince Vleda. A very good dresser, primp and proper that one despite his barbarian roots. Sort of like a young me, but snootier with a mountain of coin to back him up."

"I…I can cast the ritual with the scrolls together," said Sammy as she quickly snatched the scrolls from Martinez. "What these terrible documents can unleash, they can also seal. I just need some time to…"

With that said, Nymk was kicked backwards, smashing into the wall with a sickening crunch. The man in robes was cut down, while great hands of stone surrounded and pinned Stille to the ground. A broken and twisted Taraksun entered the alcove, slavering for the scroll that Jimmy had pried from him.

Martinez took one look at the Asura lord and simply took a swig of his flask. "Well…don't look at me. I'm not going ten rounds with that guy. I've been drinking. I'm too drunk to fight."

Jimmy struggled to his feet, even as Sammy fell into a trance reading the scrolls as fast as she could. He wasn't sure how he could defeat this creature, battered and missing an arm like he was, but he knew he had to for Sammy's sake. He had lost most of his weapons, but he drew his main gauche and…

"Hey kid….try this," said Martinez as he tossed him the black blade.

Jimmy dropped his parrying dagger and caught the sword in his hand and blinked. He attempted to throw it to the side but it was too late. It was the cursed sword that Hoaglie tasked him to sell, but instead of being grey it was pitch black now. Anger and fury flowed through him. He briefly had thoughts of murdering everyone in the room, including Sammy, but his attention was instead focused on Taraksun. Instinctively, Jimmy and the blade Grey Iron (how did he know its name?) turned to face their ancient foe, ready to do battle one final time.