Loyalty of the Tiefling

by JHMLYNDALE

The events of Mask of the Betrayer, but with the twist of Neeshka having managed to follow her harbour-boy… who is hers rather than Elanee's. Prologue, 25 chapters, Epilogue.

3. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Mud, roots, and the smell of old burnt offerings," the young Red Wizard complained as she made her way through the barrow, "my mother sends us to the most delightful places on the most delightful tasks."

"I like it," said her ugly flying companion, "better than the A-ca-dem-eee. Thems Golems there have no sense of humours."

"Yes, well, if you would stop trying to take what they are guarding they would stop trying to hit you."

"That be no fun."

The Red Wizard nodded vaguely, her attention more on what she could see ahead than on what was being said. They might finally have reached where they had been sent as there was a man lying on the floor, just across a narrow rock bridge and within what looked to be a magical circle. He was dressed only in long johns and his chest was heavily bandaged with those bandages showing signs they needed to be changed. The Red Wizard decided that even if she did love this man she'd still wait until after they had escaped to provide some of the fresh dressings her mother had included in the supplies.

As she dispelled the magical barrier between the rock pillars the man within stirred and tried to raise himself onto his hands before groaning and falling back down. An unexpected twinge of compassion distracted the Red Wizard and on a whim she decided to use her real name rather than a travelling alias. Crouching down to by the man's side she spoke. "Lie still," she instructed him, "My name is Safiya, I am here to help, and you need to gather your strength before you move."

The man groaned and then with an effort of will, which impressed Safiya against hers, visibly pushed back the pain and moved enough to be able to see who was talking to him. His eyes were alert as they moved over her and, unusually from her experience of the Instructors and Students at the Academy, this gaze was dispassionately assessing rather than leering.

"You," Blake said, "You are a Red Wizard of Thay. I…" He paused as he noticed the surroundings. "One of us is a long way from home."

"Both of us perhaps, and disregard the rumours you might have heard. Not all Red Wizards are the same."

"Where am I?" Blake asked, trying to not look too sceptical as vague memories haunted the back of his mind.

"You are in a barrow, deep beneath the soil of Rashemen."

Blake nodded. "Hundreds of miles from where I was on the Sword Coast. You seem to have known I would be here, do you know how I got here?"

"No, I do not," Safiya said truthfully, but knowing that her mother probably did know.

Blake sat up and touched his chest with a wince, looking at the mass of bandages covering it before shifting his eyes towards the edge of the circle. There was a pile of metal that looked like his armour, and beside it what looked like his helmet and shield, but something was missing from both him and that collection of belongings.

"The shard," Blake said with a cough, almost to himself, "the shard is gone and so is the Sword of…" He paused and looked at Safiya before continuing. "My sword is gone."

"I have a sword you can use," Safiya said, wondering what this man had been about to say but confident that she would learn before too long, "but we must hurry before the guardian spirits of this barrow awaken and try to prevent our leaving."

Blake stayed sitting for another moment. He mistrusted this situation, his chest and his head hurt like the Hells when he moved, and there seemed an absence within him left by the removal of the shard and the severing of his link with it. There was one certain thing though; however much the pressure of his armour on the bandages would hurt he would be better protected in full plate than in just his underwear. Blake staggered to his feet for the few steps it took to reach his armour and then gratefully sank down onto one knee as he began sorting the disorganised pile.

Safiya sighed to herself as this man started to divide the stack. She could see his efforts were placing solid lumps of metal one way, chainmail another, and cloth a third, but knowledge of how those without magic needed to protect themselves had never interested her. This made it hard to judge which would take longer, this man sorting and donning his armour or the argument she was sure they'd have if she told him to just carry it as it was. He did seem determined and to be going about this quite efficiently, despite his obvious pain, so better to at least let him sort it. She could also see the play of muscles beneath his bandages and long johns and, in some places, his bare skin so waiting was not as boring as it might otherwise have been.

That was the last coherent thought she had before agony overwhelmed her as a rapier slid in through the side of her neck. "Ogle my harbour-boy would you?" a voice hissed in her ear.

"Mistress!" the homunculus screamed, seeing what had happened.

Before it could do more than scream however the blade sliced free, cutting its way out of Safiya's throat and around and through the small flying target. The homunculus plopped to the floor, nearly chopped in two, at almost the same moment as its mistress finished slumping down onto her knees and then her face. Blake reached up and dabbed at his face, examining his fingers and seeing blood on them from where it had sprayed in this attack, before looking at the attacker.

"Are you just going to sit there looking more like a sheep than when you smile," Neeshka demanded, looking down at Safiya bleeding to death and choking on her own blood as it leaked between her ruined jugular vein and windpipe, "or are you going to finish getting dressed?"

"I am immensely glad to see you," Blake replied, still in mild shock at the sudden events, "but did you need to do that?"

"Believe me, I did," Neeshka said, giving the almost corpse a sour look, "She was sent here to pose as a rescuer and play you for a fool."

"Not hard at the moment," Blake admitted, rubbing his head and grateful both to see Neeshka and that his faith that she had a reason for the attack had been justified. "I'm not as agile as you my graceful sweetheart and getting cut open hasn't helped me recover from not managing to dodge a falling rock. At least it was only one rock unlike poor Grobnar or Casavir."

"They're dead?" Neeshka asked, startled at how abruptly Blake had given her the news.

"Grobnar tried to shield the Construct with his own body," Blake said, hauling on his padded shirt with a groan Neeshka pretended not to notice. "That was when I got hit by a rock. Casavir… it is blurry, Khelgar was helping me along as I'd already been hit, but I think he sacrificed himself to hold an arch up until the rest of us were clear."

As Blake laboriously layer by layer donned the rest of his armour Neeshka searched the corpses. It did not take her long but she pretended to be busy with this task until she saw her harbour-boy buckling on one of the last pieces of the solid plate that mostly covered the chainmail that covered the padded cloth. He'd been moving slowly and carefully but she knew that if he'd noticed she was waiting then he'd have tried to hurry or, at least, force himself to move at a more normal speed. She didn't like waiting but she did prefer it to her harbour-boy making a mistake or hurting himself by ignoring his injuries.

Satisfied this last strap was tight enough and positioned right Blake turned to Neeshka who smiled reassuringly at him. He smiled back and looked her up and down appreciatively as she looked even more beautiful in her new armour than Blake had expected. Of course she was beautiful to him in anything, or nothing, so though he wanted it to suit her he had intended the gift as a practical one. The fine Mithril chainmail had been tailored to her so it would not shift or clink as looser or coarser chainmail could. That she looked so slinky in it was a very pleasant surprise.

For a moment though Blake almost regretted having been so practical as he wondered what this chainmail would look like without the rest of the armour. The dark maroon of the cloth and leather of the leather 'breastplate' over her upper chest, the leather pauldrons and knee guards and upper-arm guards, and the padded thigh guards did suit her and she looked very lovely standing there with the extra protection these gave. How she would appear without them was something to look forward to discovering later though in a more suitable location.

"I see you found my gift to you," Blake smiled, giving her an admiring look before frowning in puzzlement, "but that would mean you have been back to Crossroad Keep. Did you discover a portal?"

"Sort of," replied Neeshka, wondering how she was going to explain things.

"Well," Blake said, willing to wait for an explanation, "I hope you like it, should give more protection than your old armour as well as…"

Suddenly he found his arms full of happy Tiefling and his words cut off by a passionate kiss. Blake half-staggered from the impact, both of the kiss and of Neeshka's arrival, but managed to keep his feet. Armour protected against caresses as well as blows but there was still enough fire in Neeshka's kiss to incinerate a Dragon. Though an underground barrow with a fresh corpse, freshly destroyed homunculi, and a far older dustier skeleton lying nearby was hardly romantic it took Blake and Neeshka long moments to care about that and for her to lean back from the kiss.

"I love this armour," Neeshka said, remaining with her arms around her harbour-boy, who also showed no inclination to release her, "not as much as I love you but almost as much!"

Blake half opened his mouth to respond but then he saw the twinkle in Neeshka's eyes as she looked up at him. Realising she had almost fooled him Neeshka giggled and pulled away, her tail squirming in happy wriggles as she pranced out of kissing range. Blake smiled happily as he watched her moving across to some shadows to pick something up and as he remembered other times that Neeshka's tail had wriggled like that.

"Here," Neeshka smiled, holding out the scabbarded sword and sword belt, "take this heavy clumsy thing before I forget."

Blake took it and did not protest Neeshka's assessment, he simply felt more comfortable with more metal than a rapier in his hand, just as he preferred more Mithril around him in armour plates and coarser chain than hers and to use the largest shield he could. Half-drawing the sword Blake checked it was sliding free in its scabbard before he buckled the sword belt around him.

"I hate to sound like Shandra used to," Blake said, as he fiddled with adjusting his sword belt and looked down at Safiya's corpse, "but what's going on? One moment I was trying to gather my wits back in Merdelain, the next I was waking up here almost naked, and then you arrive and tell me there is some sort of plot?"

"What do you remember?"

Blake rubbed his beard in thought, glad he had not yet put his helmet on, and tried to gather his thoughts and separate memory from dream. It was hard to think, his mind seemed clouded, but maybe that was the key? Gradually Blake worked his way back through events, using why they were hard to remember to sort them into what order they had occurred. He stooped and picked his helmet up from where it was sitting next to his kite-shaped shield.

"As… as I mentioned," Blake replied hesitantly, running his fingers over the slight dent in his helmet, "I got hit on the head by a rock, Khelgar helped me along, Casavir sacrificed himself, and then we rested in a round hall. Khelgar gave me a potion that knocked me out… then… and then I remember waking and seeing a Gargoyle. Qara was the only other of our band there and she was unconscious so I rendered her invisible. I don't know if that worked, my head was pounding like a Dwarven forge and I passed out… I fainted… when the Gargoyle lifted me."

"I think it worked harbour-boy," Neeshka reassured him, "or at least you were the only one kidnapped. I heard Khelgar bellowing and managed to find my way back, but the Gargoyle you remember had picked you up and was carrying you away…"

Blake nodded as Neeshka ran though events. Of seeing and following Ammon Jerro and the gargoyle down a corridor and through a portal. Of finding the warlock unconscious and surrounded and Blake in a Gargoyle's arms. Of seeing the Red Wizard enter another portal and then return without her gargoyles or Blake. Of listening to that Red Wizard giving her daughter instructions and realising that daughter had used a different portal. And finally of being approached by Mephasm and being offered the deal Neeshka had taken to be here now. As Neeshka finished and glanced down, nervous of Blake's reaction to her literal deal with a Devil, Blake stepped forward and took her shoulders in his hands.

"You are the most precious jewel in my life. I thank Sune every day for blessing me with your love just as she has blessed you with beauty," Blake said, looking deep into the worried eyes she raised to him, "and I truly wish that my first thought, that you had been back to Crossroad Keep, had been correct. I would rather you were safe than having risked a bargain with Mephasm, but… had I been in your place I would also have bargained with the Hells to find you." Blake drew Neeshka in for a hug, crushing her against his chest despite the pressure that put against the bandages there, and kissed the top of her head. "I have a bad feeling about this," he continued, into Neeshka's hair, after a few moments thought. "I'd have been quite grateful for a portal out of that fortress, and you have told me I am too helpful…"

Neeshka shifted position slightly in the hug, tilting her head up to look at Blake and freeing an arm to place one finger over Blake's lips to shush him. "Same thoughts occurred to me," she admitted, "they might be trying to use you for something even that gratitude and your helpfulness would not allow… something evil… which added to the pleasure of killing that one and spoiling their plans."

"We still need to be very careful though," sighed Blake, releasing Neeshka with some reluctance, "we might not be that easily unmeshed from their schemes. At least I think I have heard of Mulsantir, it is one of the cities on the fabled Golden Way, though that does not help us finding our way there."

"This might," Neeshka replied, giving Blake another reassuring grin and waving the map she had found on Safiya's corpse, "and once we find the city we can find this Lienna and get some answers."

"If you wanted answers," Blake said, gesturing at Safiya's corpse with the hand that still held his helmet, "maybe you should have left her alive, though I doubt she'd have wanted to talk."

"Or been able to say much," Neeshka pointed out with concern. "Remember I said she was told very little so she didn't have to lie about not knowing things?"

"Ah, yes… yes, so you did."

Neeshka's concern deepened as it was not like her harbour-boy to forget things like that. Blake could see Neeshka was getting worried and he didn't want her to be so with an effort Blake squared his shoulders and tried to dispel the vagueness from his voice. "I see nothing else for us here," Blake said with more confidence than he felt, pulling up his chainmail hood with his free hand before bucking his helmet on over it, "and we had better move in case this Red Wizard was telling the truth about spirits here awakening."

As Blake picked up his shield and started to move across the rock bridge as he slid it onto his arm and tightened the straps Neeshka hesitated. She was not a wizard like her lover but she could recognise there were arcane carvings on the pillars and before that Red Wizard dispelled it there had also seemed to be magic joining them. A few moments longer to examine them for clues could be useful. But Blake was doing his best to hide how unwell he was and she loved him enough to let him think he was fooling her. Pointing out another, possible, mistake would spoil this so rather than speak she just hurried after him.

There was a noise of damp stone sliding over stone from around a corner ahead of them as they moved up an earth ramp. Rather than the crash of a ceiling collapsing though there was a far smaller thud, but then another, and another, getting louder and getting closer. "Footsteps?" Blake said, listening to the rhythmic thumping. "Earth Elemental?"

"Of all the things that Red Wizard was going to lie about," Neeshka complained, "why was she telling the truth about there being guardians?"

Blake nodded and drew his sword. "Let's hope Helm is not on their side or that Tymorra is more strongly on ours."

After having used the Sword of Gith for a while his old blade felt odd at first, the balance of the two had been rather different. Second by second though this sword began to again feel more at home in his hand than the Sword of Gith ever had. The thumping was becoming very loud and Blake gathered what arcane power he could through his weakness and chanted in preparation. A shape lumbered around the corner and then staggered in its stride as Blake sent a Fireball into its chest.

Steam rose from the Barrow Guardian and some of its substance dried and crumbled away from it. The Earth Elementals Blake had fought before could have been described more as 'Rock Elements' as they looked like a collection of boulders. This creature though seemed to be made from the same damp soil as the walls and roof and floor of the barrow and to really be 'earth'. It was damp enough to resist the fireball and just dry out a little rather than crack in the sudden intense head as solid stone might have done. But it was soft enough to be easily cut as Blake followed his arcane attack with a physical one and his sword sliced through its body like a ploughshare through the soil, though unlike a ploughshare Blake's sword had harmful magic on it and in considerable quantities now it had been improved.

The Barrow Guardian shifted as the magic discharged and wounded it further. A mere physical cut would have been simple for it to repair as it brought the edges to merge back together, but the damage the magic did along those edges hampered this greatly. As it tried to turn to attack Blake Neeshka moved like a striking snake. Her rapier flicked out and into the body of their enemy before she just as quickly withdrew it. Her skills were not well suited against this foe as it had neither armour for her speed and precision to find chinks in nor any vital organs to strike. But Neeshka did not care, nothing was going to hurt her harbour-boy while she could prevent it.

Despite the disadvantage she was at her new rapier did a satisfying amount of damage; the wound was not wide but the metal of the blade had carried its magic deep inside the foe before it was released. There was a sub-vocal noise from the Barrow Guardian as it felt the effects of the fireball and the two blows and for a moment it seemed stunned. Blake gathered his strength, glad that though his cloak was missing his belt of strength was not, and swung with as much power as he could muster. He knew this would leave him off balance and vulnerable to a counter-strike, but he also felt his stamina could not endure more than a very short fight.

Blake's sword bit deep, his weight behind it driving it on and almost slicing the Barrow Guardian in two from shoulder to opposite hip. The pieces of guardian slumped away from each other as Blake staggered on with the momentum of his own blow and thumped shield-first into the wall. Levering himself up, using the wall more for support than he'd like to admit even to himself, Blake looked back at what had been a Barrow Guardian and now looked like a pile of mud and stone.

"Well," Blake said, trying to catch his breath, "that seems defeated."

Neeshka looked at Blake leaning on the wall and thought of all the battles they had been through together. The last time she had seen him look this weary had been when they had recovered the Belt of Ironfist. But there they had needed to climb a steep path up the slopes of Mount Galardyrm while fighting Fire Giants, and breathing air that stank with volcanic gases, and then had to fight a huge Red Dragon once the main camp of Fire Giants 'polluting her mountain' were dead and she had no further need of their tenuous alliance. Something was seriously wrong with him and the sooner they found a cleric the better.

Gathering his strength again Blake managed to stand and tried to give Neeshka another confident smile. She was frowning again and even through his haze of fatigue he felt she was too pretty to be frowning. As he staggered back into motion Blake noticed there was a side chamber and turned to head that way.

"Other way is out, harbour-boy."

"Hmm," Blake replied vaguely, "quick glance to check for anything useful and hope Oghma blesses us with knowledge."

Neeshka nodded, not sure whether Blake had truly intended to check the side chamber or if he had become disorientated and not wanted to admit it. Either way though he would need her help so, after a moment, she trotted after him. Concern twisted her heart as she saw that in that moment Blake had been out of sight he had gone down onto one knee, but then she felt equally strong relief as she realised he was examining something rather than having collapsed. Neeshka moved around to see what Blake was looking at and to keep a better eye on her harbour-boy.

For a split-second Blake wished that Neeshka was not quite so devoted. These scrolls had been a fine excuse to let himself slump down onto one knee and if Neeshka had stayed closer to the entrance to this chamber, where she could see further down the passage, he'd have been able to spend a few seconds only pretending to look at them. She was hovering attentively over him now though and she'd notice if he just stared blankly at the scrolls.

"Scrolls," Blake said, pointing out the obvious, "some quite powerful spells and they seem to still have the magic bound in them. Some to use, some to learn."

"Looks like a campsite," commented Neeshka, looking around. "I wonder if this belonged to that skeleton?"

"Skele…" Blake began, before remembering there had been a skeleton in the chamber below and nodding. "Aye, campsite looks long abandoned enough. Surprised the scrolls… and this book… are still intact when their owner has rotted down."

Blake reached across and picked up the book he had just noticed. Unlike the scrolls it did not seem too obviously magical but there must have been some spells of preservation on it or it would have rotted away like its owner. Blake started flipping pages, grateful for the excuse to stay kneeling, and read until Neeshka lost patience through curiosity and the desire to keep moving.

"What does it say?" asked Neeshka, shifting from one foot to the other.

"It seems to tell the tale of a Betrayer," Blake replied, taking the hint of Neeshka's body language and closing the book, "one who led a Crusade against the God of Death and the City of Judgement…"

"Sheesh! I thought you were ambitious taking on the King of Shadows."

"And that the Priests of Myrkul deny this Betrayer's Crusade ever happened," concluded Blake , standing and stowing the book away.

"Myrkul?" Neeshka said with a small frown of puzzlement. "I thought Myrkul was dead?"

"Aye, he is, which is reassuring as, if he was involved, that shows how long ago this happened."

Neeshka nodded, not looking entirely reassured but then neither did Blake. Centuries or even Millennia sometimes seemed no barrier to things from the past complicating the present. Hopefully if this book had belonged to the skeleton then it had just been his bedtime reading rather than there being a connection between those events and his presence in this place.

"Better keep moving," Neeshka prompted, the tip of her tail flicking back and forth as she listened for more foes.

"Aye. Book was interesting, but I agree with your pretty tail twitching that this is not the place to read it."

They both skirted the mud that had been the Barrow Guardian as neither wanted to risk it having enough life left in it to engulf their feet if they stepped on it. Soon they were peering up the soil slope that joined two layers of the barrow and Blake was trying to hide his dismay at the steepness of the incline. He wondered whether being a more normal Wizard, without the armour and with a staff to lean on, would have been better here. Fortunately his shield did have that blade-like ridge on its face from almost the broad curve at the top to the sharper point at the bottom. If he could do it accidentally when he staggered into that wall, he could probably dig this into a wall and use it to push off for support.

Slowly they climbed, Blake's boots slipping from the weight of him and of his armour and his shield thumping rhythmically into the left wall as he hauled himself up, using his shield like an invalid climbing stairs would use the hand they had on the balustrade. Neeshka by contrast barely seemed to make any sound or to leave any footprints, her feet almost instinctively finding the places where the soil was firm enough to not slide away beneath her boots. Gradually they approached a glimmer of light and Blake stumbled out, glad to be on the flat again but this gladness was replaced by weary annoyance as he saw a great spirit-wolf staring at him.

It did not seem to be attacking and nor was the more normal sized, but still ghostly, wolf that was at its side. Blake was grateful for the reprieve, though he doubted it would make much difference to his strange weariness however long these wolves gave him to recover from the climb. Neeshka moved up and protectively to Blake's side as he and the wolves continued to stare at each other.

"There you are Tiefling," the great wolf growled as it saw Neeshka, its voice sounding female to Blake, "we caught your scent as you trailed the Red Wizard, and we catch the scent of her blood now. But you were alone when you went below."

"I am Blake Marsh, Knight of Neverwinter," Blake said, bowing his head slightly as he spoke. "I awoke in the chamber beneath us after being abducted by the Red Wizards. Hence the trailing and the blood as I required rescue."

"Something was trapped in the Cavern of Runes… a poison at the heart of our dream… swallowing memories and names," the wolf replied, her voice becoming even more firm. "Whoever you are, However you got there, whether your doing or not, anything that emerges from there cannot be allowed to walk free. Those were the words of our God before he sank into slumber."

"Well my words now are…" began Neeshka, her tone implying what sort of words they would be.

"I assure you I mean no harm," Blake hurriedly and diplomatically interrupted. "I simply want to seek answers to my abduction and return home."

"Hrnh. What is that other scent, beneath the scent of the Red Wizard's blood?" the wolf mused to herself, hardly listening to either Neeshka or Blake. "Other blood, a wound that should have been mortal, but was not… No, something deeper, vile and familiar… why do I remember…"

Blake listened. What the wolf had said about something trapped below concerned him and especially since she now smelt something vile and familiar. Suddenly something twisted inside him, wringing the breath from his lungs like water from dishcloths. His ears filled with a wild groan, overlapping Neeshka's cry of surprise with cries of animal hunger. The groan rose and became a scream that drowned out all other sensation save pain and hunger, hunger that suddenly felt both sated for now and infinite in capacity and pain that ebbed as the hunger became dormant again.

For long moments all Blake could do was take deep ragged breaths. He was down on both knees, he didn't remember falling to them, and though the other pain had gone he could feel from the pain in his knees it must have been quite a sudden fall. A slim arm slid itself along his shoulders as Neeshka knelt beside him. Blake looked into her worried eyes and taking her left hand in his right raised it to his lips to kiss her fingers in love and gratitude.

"What just happened?" Neeshka asked after a moment.

"I am not sure. It felt like a hunger… something that welled up inside me. Wait, the wolves?"

"Both gone," Neeshka said, before clarifying, "the smaller one ran, yelping in fear. The other… you seemed to absorb it."

"Aye," Blake sighed, "I feared as much from that this hunger feels satisfied, for now."

"Was that as painful as it looked?" Neeshka asked, clearly hoping the answer would be no.

"It was unpleasant," Blake admitted, with equally clear understatement, "though more I think for the ghost-wolf. I wish that had not happened."

"You're a bleeding heart… er," Neeshka began before stopping, glancing at Blake's chest, and then trying again. "I mean you are a nice guy… but I've encountered enough guards to know when you're going to have to kill one to get past them."

"Maybe so, but if I am going to have someone's death on my account I want it to at least be my decision."

With that and one last kiss of Neeshka's fingers Blake started to his feet. Neeshka sprang up, ready to help him stand, but Blake stood quite easily. Blake frowned as they looked at each other and then rubbed at his chest with his right hand. Then he took several deep breaths, and shook his head. Drawing his sword he went through a quick flurry of blows and parries. Blake shook his head again as he returned his sword to its scabbard and turned back to Neeshka who had been watching all this with appreciation of the display.

"I feel… fine," Blake said, looking and sounding very puzzled. "No pain in my chest, my thoughts feel clear, my balance is good…" He ground to a halt as he realised he was starting to list all the things he had tried to hide from Neeshka. She smiled though, letting him know that she'd known all this all along and was glad he was feeling better. Blake smiled back and then looked around. "I still wish that had not happened to the ghost-wolf," he said after another moment, "both for her sake and because it is a mystery we may have to solve, but at least now we have a better chance of escape."

"This way harbour-boy," Neeshka replied, loping off.

Blake nodded and began jogging after her. His footsteps were still far heavier than his beloved's but heavier in the same way as a galloping plough-horse compared with a deer rather than being heavy like a drunk's clumsy staggering. Plates of metal slid over and rattled slightly against each other, leather straps creaked as they flexed, and Blake's boots thumped into the dirt floor as he finally was able to start moving at full speed. It was exhilarating being able to move this fast in this much armour and to know you could travel for hours alternating between a walk and this jog. Ahead of him though Neeshka had paused and Blake wondered whether she was being over-considerate, if she had not believed him when he had said he felt fine. Blake came to a stop and gave her a smile to show he was not out of breath.

Neeshka grinned back and pointed. "Chest!"

"Yes," Blake replied, glad it was this rather than concern, "but I don't want to anger the spirits any more than we have to and looting their barrow on our way out might annoy them."

"I don't think they can get any angrier," Neeshka said, the tip of her tail twitching in curiosity about what might be in the chest, "we're already defying their god. And you ate that… er."

Blake smiled again as he saw the prettily twitching tail and as Neeshka tried to not upset him by mentioning the spirit-wolf. "Good point, do we want to risk it though?"

Neeshka thought a moment and then stuck her tongue cheerfully out at Blake. "Spoilsport!"

Blake accepted this judgement with the good grace of someone who knew it was true and who loved the person making the judgement. After a moment Neeshka gestured and started off down the passageway again, Blake obediently following behind. Or more accurately following Neeshka's behind, the play of muscles beneath the fine chain, the way her tail swung in counterpoint to her hips, the sheer grace of her movements… with an effort Blake ground those thoughts to a halt. Maybe it was that having tasted Neeshka during that night in his chambers in Crossroad Keep he was now addicted, maybe it was the hunger that had consumed the spirit-wolf making itself known in another equally primal way, but he needed to concentrate on less pleasant matters.

They had entered a chamber where the skeleton of a huge bear was displayed on an earth platform. Blake looked around for a way onwards and then at Neeshka who was glaring at one wall. Looking where she was looking Blake could see there was a part of the wall that looked fresher, like soil newly turned by a plough, and he began to suspect why his sweetheart was looking so angry.

"Not fair!" Neeshka protested, before confirming Blake's suspicion, "That was open when I followed that red-robed slime down here."

Blake nodded and dug two fingers experimentally into the barrier; it seemed difficult to scrape even that shallow narrow groove out of the mud and, as he watched, the mud shifted and the scrape vanished. He glanced back at the bear skeleton and then at the barrier, even if he had spells to dispel magic prepared that might start a fight and he was hoping to avoid tempting fate and the hunger within him by facing more spirit-animals. "Is there another exit?" he asked eventually.

"Your guess is as good as mine harbour-boy. I was a little busy sneaking and following to go exploring."

"Hmm," Blake replied pensively. "We'd better start searching then, either another route or something to help us get out."

"See!" said Neeshka, adding when Blake looked at her enquiringly. "I told you we needed to open that Chest!"

"Gods I love you," Blake chuckled. "North first?"

Neeshka shrugged so Blake nodded and started to lead the way. There seemed not much along the passage but Blake felt a slight twinge of optimism as he saw a dark opening with some exposed stonework at the end of it. Unfortunately the earthen slope past it seemed to lead down rather than up. Blake leaned forward to peer down the slope, resting his right hand on a projecting rock and then cursed as that rock came free of the mud and bounced and rolled away. To his surprise Neeshka nearly overbalanced him again as she pushed past him and stuck her head into the opening.

"What…" Blake began.

"Shush!" said Neeshka, listening intently for a few more moments. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

In reply Neeshka pulled another rock free and lobbed it down into the darkness. Blake listened hard and heard it thud and bounce and thud and bounce and clack and bounce? That last sounded like stone on stone rather than stone on earth and Blake nodded as faintly he heard more clacking.

"Stone stairs?" Blake mused. "Stone ramp?"

"Stone something, so worth checking."

"Aye," Blake replied, moving carefully onto the earth ramp, "let's hope the stone coming free was Lady Luck Tymorra rather than Lady Doom Beshaba.

Despite Blake's qualms the descent was quite easy, now he had his sense of balance back his boots seemed to grip far better and not once did he need to dig his shield into the wall for extra support. Earth turned to stone slippery with seeping moisture and then to stone that was still dry. This made the footing surer but worried Blake a little as it showed something was preventing whatever was below from becoming too damp. Maybe growing up in the middle of a Mere was making him too concerned, as in a swamp you expected any hole you dug to fill with water before you finished digging, but he was sure that even in dry places mines and passageways needed pumps or magic to remain dry.

Neeshka looked around as they passed through a stone doorway and into a corridor. "Well, at least it doesn't look like those Illefarn ruins."

"Aye," Blake agreed sourly, "had more than enough of Illefarn. Is something familiar about this… ah, it will come back to me if Oghma wills it does."

Neeshka moved ahead and expertly looked over the door ahead of them for traps. She nodded to Blake to show she had found none but then walked the fingers of one hand along the back of the other. Blake nodded back to show he understood that Neeshka had heard footsteps past the door and drew his sword and braced himself. The door was still capable of sliding open by itself so Neeshka triggered it and stepped back to join Blake who was moving forward into range to block the doorway with his shield.

For a moment there was no reaction within the room and then there was the sound of metal grinding on metal. Neeshka winced and glanced at Blake, but then her attention was drawn back to the doorway where an armoured figure had just appeared. Given warning by the sound of its approach Blake struck, his sword slicing through the rusty metal of his foe and his own well-maintained armour almost silent by comparison. An instant after Blake's sword sheared through one upper arm Neeshka stabbed her rapier into the throat of their enemy and with a sideways jerk decapitated it. There was a clatter of helmet metal on stone floor as that bounced towards them and the rest of their enemy slumped back and landed with a noise like a blacksmith's hammer rack giving way.

Neeshka shook her head as she looked down at that of their foe and a skull face looked back at her from inside the open-face helmet. She was not going to complain, much, about the time Blake spent oiling and cleaning his armour rather than oiling and cleaning his Tiefling now she had heard what rusty armour joints squealing against each other was like. But this was not something she liked fighting. "Not more undead! How am I supposed to stab them when they are already pre-stabbed?"

"Did well there dear," replied Blake, somewhat distracted by if he could hear another one of these armoured skeletons. "Without the flesh necks make a thin target, so that was an impressive strike, and without the flesh less to hold the head on so you could pop the bones apart."

"Maybe," Neeshka said, frowning at the lack of sympathy, "but with the flesh stabbing them in the neck is enough, or stabbing them in the heart, or in the…"

"Point taken," admitted Blake, frowning himself at what he could see through the doorway.

Neeshka glanced in that direction. "What are they waiting for?"

"Waiting for us to move," Blake replied quietly. "Smart Undead. They're not coming through the doorway for us to chop up one by one and they know they can outwait us. We move back and they can get through the doorway without being destroyed, we move forward and they can all strike at once."

Neeshka nodded, be hard even for her to dodge four attacks coming from around a curve in front of her. Then she spared Blake another glance and another frown as he stared at where one of the undead used to keep its eyes, hoping this would work to keep its attention as it would with a living creature. "How the Hells do you know all this harbour-boy?"

"Captain of Crossroad Keep?" Blake replied rhetorically. "I know there were some juicy stories about why Kana often visited my chambers until late into the night, and the stamina those stories, and the ones about Katriona and Light-of-Heavens, assigned me was somewhat flattering but it was professional." Neeshka opened her mouth as if to say something and Blake twitched one corner of his mouth at her in a slight smile. "Professional as in they were recommending things I should read and giving advice on how those theories worked in practice," he clarified before Neeshka could comment, "not professional as in handing over gold to have a happy hour or two."

"Right…" Neeshka said, elongating the word and putting an exaggerated expression of disbelief on her face, unable to resist the temptation to tease her sweetie before asking more seriously, "so what does all this reading and talking tell you to do now?"

In reply Blake began to chant an incantation and the weave twisted to his spell of Vitriolic Sphere. A great blob of acid formed and streaked away from him into the Undead. To be close enough to all be in weapon range of the doorway they had needed to be close enough to each other that they could all be splashed by the thinner acid as the thicker clung to the one Blake had struck directly. The exposed bone of their skull faces hissed as it began to disintegrate and patches of their armour started to look cleaner as the rust dissolved away to reveal bare metal.

Before they could respond to this attack Blake began to chant again to follow up his attack. Again the weave responded to his words and the projectiles of a Greater Missile Storm curved from Blake into the Undead who were still smoking as the acid ate at them. Patches of armour weakened by acid, or rust, or both heated and twisted as the missiles released their magic energy into them and one of the Undead staggered back before trying to regain his place at the shoulder of his fellow armoured skeleton. Blake watched this calmly, the Undead had thought there was a stalemate so it had been good to prove them wrong.

With a squeal of rusty joints, and a clatter as some of the old and already rotten leather straps gave way to the acid and released the plates they were holding, the Undead shuffled back out of sight and away from the doorway. Blake sprang forward and through, taking one blow from his left on his shield without this slowing him and then bringing his blade round in a powerful forehand arc against the Undead ahead of him. His strength was magically enhanced, his sword was magically enhanced, and his foe had armour weakened by age and acid. The contest was somewhat unequal.

Behind him, as Blake pulled his sword back and out of where it had sheered through armour and spine, Neeshka pivoted on one foot to lithely twist her body out of the line of the attack aimed at her. Before the Undead could recover Neeshka had twisted back, her rapier thrusting out in one graceful motion and through a chink in its armour. Neeshka cursed as she twitched her sword back, feeling it catch a moment on the edge of a plate; there had been nothing beneath that part of the armour for her blade to pierce. One thing you were advised was to be careful of striking bone in case you got your blade wedged in it, but these things were nothing but armour and bone.

Turning his attention to the armoured skeleton that had managed to attack him Blake feinted that he was going to swing his sword out to his right to then bring it back in the same sort of sweeping blow that had destroyed the other. These might be smart undead, but they were not that smart. Falling for it his foe lunged to try to strike before Blake could bring his sword back. Instead it found its momentum carrying it onto Blake's blade as he stabbed it forward into where its guts would have been. Bringing his shield-hand around, despite the encumbrance of the shield strapped to that arm, Blake grasped his sword hilt with both hands and heaved upwards. It was rare he used both hands on his hand-and-a-half sword but in this case he would make an exception.

The lower part of the Undead's breastplate crumpled around Blake's sword, the straps holding breast and back plate together stretching under the strain, and for a moment Blake was supporting the Undead's entire weight on the edge of his blade. Then the Undead slid backwards off Blake's sword and thumped onto its back on the floor. That it was Undead was a mixed fortune. Lifting it had not been as much of a strain compared with a living opponent as it had lost a lot of weight with its flesh, but a living opponent would be dead or dying from that wound rather than trying to get up. Removing his shield hand from the hilt Blake solved the problem by bringing his sword down in a backhand blow through its neck.

Blake turned just in time to see Neeshka slip out from between the two Undead that were still moving and as they almost collided stab one in the side and drag her rapier to sever its spine. That Undead fell and the last was suddenly facing two opponents; if it had still had a face it might have shown fear but Blake doubted it had that much wit remaining. Neeshka started flicking her rapier towards its eyesockets, keeping its attention as Blake approached. Freed of the need for even the small amount of subtlety he possessed Blake swung his blade in the same finesse-less blow he had used on that Barrow Guardian, but this time he was not overwhelmed by his own momentum.

Neeshka grinned at Blake as they stood among the remains. Blake smiled back and looked around; they seemed to be in a library and this could be useful, depending on what information they could find. Starting towards the nearest bookshelf Blake stopped as he heard a delicate cough. "Er… harbour-boy," Neeshka said, pointing at the floor.

Blake looked and saw what she meant; three of the undead were still twitching. The one he'd lifted and decapitated seemed to be inert, but the two with severed spines were moving their arms. Rather horribly the one he'd just cut from the join of shoulder and neck to out the opposite armpit was feebly moving the arm still attached to the chunk of it with the head on. Blake nodded and stamped on the neck of this undead remnant, crushing those bones and popping the skull free as the neck broke. One quick sword stroke decapitated another undead while Neeshka dealt with the final one. They paused and looked at the Undead suspiciously; waiting to see if they would start twitching again and need to be cut into smaller pieces, but all seemed still.

Wiping his sword off, more through force of habit than need as undead skeletons had no blood and gore to coat the blade, Blake returned it to his scabbard and went back to considering the bookshelves. Disappointingly there was no book or scroll marked 'secret passage to safety', or 'summary of what you need to know to teleport home', or even one that seemed to be a map of these ruins. There were a few magical scrolls though which Blake took as some of the magic was new to him and the rest he could sell when a suitable merchant was found.

Neeshka meanwhile had been checking the walls and a side room for hidden doors. Tracks in the dust showed there had been some Undead in there as well and what was left of the door showed they had smashed it to join the others. Neeshka returned and handed Blake a few more scrolls but shook her head. "I think we are going to have to go back into the barrow harbour-boy."

"Seems so," Blake replied, looking rather less than overjoyed by the prospect.

The climb up from the library was simple enough and heading back down the barrow passageway Blake and Neeshka just continued on the way they were going until they reached another dark opening with another set of exposed stonework around it.

"Well, we know there might be some more ruins down there," Blake said, his voice showing his mixed feelings.

"And that there might be some more undead down there."

"Aye," Blake agreed dourly, pitching a stone down into the darkness and listening. "Is a clack so we know there is exposed stonework down there rather than this having filled with mud."

"Come on beloved," Neeshka said with an exaggerated sigh, "sooner we check the sooner we get this over with."

As they descended they began to smell something, a different scent overlaying and then replacing that of soil and mud. "This could be promising," Blake commented, one boot almost slipping as he was distracted by his thoughts.

"How so?" Neeshka asked, hoping Blake would keep his mind more on the climb.

"Smells like a smithy," Blake said a few seconds later, sniffing a couple of times to make sure. "Which means they need fuel for the forges and ore to smelt; that is not something you want to carry up and down stairs by hand, so there might be another way out from there."

Neeshka nodded as they continued down and reached where soil gave way to stone. "They'd at least need chimneys."

"True," Blake replied, not seeing the point, "smoke has to go somewhere."

Several more seconds passed as they moved down the dark downwards passageway and emerged into a corridor. "No surprise here," Blake commented, looking around, "same style of stonework as the other place and definite smithy smells."

"I could probably wriggle up a chimney…"

Blake grinned suddenly. "Yes, I remember you telling me about that job where to get through a narrow gap you had to strip down and oil up…"

"Yes, and I remember you remember," Neeshka replied, grinning back. "Giving me a warm-oil massage might have been a coincidence, but I recall a certain harbour-boy telling me the stonemasons had done good work… no narrow gaps in the wall of that room!"

"The expression on your face before the punchline," Blake chuckled, "There you were, and there I was, and I start talking about stonemasons when you are lying there glistening with oil, your beautiful breasts quivering beneath my palms, your…."

Neeshka snapped her fingers in front of Blake's face to interrupt his recitation. "Mind on the job harbour-boy, all I was going to say was I could get up a chimney but I don't think you could."

"Hmm, true," Blake agreed, trying not to dwell on memories of a naked, oiled, and aroused Neeshka. "Maybe I should have learned one of the size reducing or shape changing spells."

"You are just the right size and shape for me…" Neeshka said, before trailing off. "Gods, did I just say what I think I said."

Blake smiled and taking Neeshka's shoulders in his hands drew her in towards him, kissing her on the forehead between her delicately curved horns. "I know what you meant."

"And I did mean it in all ways," Neeshka replied, tilting her head up slightly to give Blake a grin and a saucy wink.

"Er…" Blake said, blushing, "thank you?"

Neeshka pulled away from Blake's light grasp and danced happily away a little. "You're welcome."

For a moment Blake just looked at her; she made comments like that and moved with such enthralling grace and she expected him to keep his mind on the job? At times it seemed completing a complex arcane recitation while punched in the head by a Troll was simple compared with completing a chain of thought in Neeshka's presence. "So," Blake said, trying to change the subject, "two doors, one ahead and one to that side."

Neeshka nodded, moving quietly down the corridor and checking over that door. Blake tried to watch over her rather than simply watch her bend and stretch as she checked the door from bottom to top. She smiled to Blake before returning and going the short way down the side corridor to check the second door. Blake smiled back and continued to try to remember there was too much danger here to let himself be distracted by memories or fantasies.

Fortunately for Blake's tattered concentration Neeshka went about both tasks with smooth efficiency. She did feel tempted to tease him, some ways of bending and stretching were more eye-catching than others, but she could see the look in her harbour-boy's eyes and she knew if his control broke she'd also be swept away with passion. Neeshka's fingers faltered slightly as a sudden image of being pushed against the nearest wall came to her mind. Catches and buckles on armour being hurriedly released to remove just enough, their lips remaining locked in a kiss, and then being taken roughly and gasping against her harbour-boy's mouth as he thrust into her. Blake had been gentle and considerate as a lover so it might be fun to goad him into something a little more primitive. Unfortunately now was not a good time… dammit.

Blake looked at Neeshka as she moved back to join him and wondered what had put that sparkle in her eyes. He was worried, normally that meant she had thought of something and normally that meant trouble. Neeshka flushed slightly as she saw the worried look and wondered how Blake would react if she told him there was nothing to worry about and what she had been thinking.

"No footsteps in either room harbour-boy, and the doors were unlocked and untrapped even before I went over them."

Blake looked back and forth between the doors before heading towards the one that had been straight ahead of them. This slid open and Blake stepped through, still keeping his shield cautiously ready as there were things that floated or slithered rather than walked. Along the back wall were crates and weapon racks and some forges with narrow flues. There didn't seem to be any shafts to carry away foul air or to winch things up and down but there was a side door. Something was strange though; there was something bothering Blake about this room, and then he realised. There were weapon racks but scattered across the floor was an assortment of weapons and these were bright and shiny rather than having corroded from not being stored properly.

"Careful," Blake said, drawing his sword.

"Of what?" Neeshka started to ask, before hurriedly drawing her own sword as the weapons on the floor leapt into the air like a flock of ugly birds.

Blake felt one eye twitch as he tried to figure out how to fight these. Meeting weapon with weapon made a fine noise on a stage but was something to avoid in a real fight. These though were nothing but weapon. A Warhammer swooped at him and Blake cursed as he deflected the blow with his shield but then missed with his reflexive counterattack. If there had been a hand holding that weapon then his sword would have neatly struck his enemy's forearm, but there was not so it had struck empty air.

His mind raced as considered the spells he had prepared. What sort of magically created energies would harm these weapons? Acid again maybe, but that acid might be smeared from them onto himself and Neeshka as the weapons attacked. Fire might burn the handle on the Warhammer but the metal of it and the other weapons would be mostly unaffected other than to get hot which, again, could hurt if they landed a blow. They were flying above the ground so electricity might not flow through them if Blake struck them with that sort of spell, and even if it did they were metal so they might conduct it without harm.

Blake smiled as an idea came to him. "When I say dodge," he said to his agile sweetheart, "dodge and get back into the corridor. Well back."

Neeshka looked dubious, she was not going to abandon Blake, but seeing that smile on his face reassured her he had a plan rather than just wanting to put himself between her and harm. She nodded and gracefully parried the attacks of a pair of daggers that were working together. Blake was already shuffling back towards the doorway so Neeshka moved to keep at his side where they could, like the daggers, work together. This was getting dangerous though as they were getting less room to dodge the further Blake retreated.

Blake felt a prickle of sweat on his brow. Moving back like this meant all the attacks were coming from one direction. This was good as it meant he could keep his shield to them, but bad as these animated weapons could get a lot closer together than if someone was holding them. Eventually his shield-arm would tire from the relentless concentrated attacks, or his shield would crack, or his foot slip as a blow hit while he was still off balance from the previous. Another shock ran up his arm and his elbow twinged as he met yet another attack and fought to prevent his shield from being driven back against his body.

"Dodge!" Blake snapped, starting immediately to chant.

Neeshka twisted backwards, slipping between Blake and the wall and through the doorway behind him, as her harbour-boy began casting his spell. The animated weapons flocked forward as she retreated and without her help and with trying to recite the incantation correctly it became even harder for Blake to block the attacks and continue shuffling backwards. Then he finished and a Fireball was created and almost immediately detonated. This enveloped all the animated weapons as they had flocked together in their pursuit as well as forward.

Blake grunted as he caught the edge of the explosion; he'd tried to leap back a little as the spell finished but maybe he'd cut the timing too close. On the other hand there was not much time to be cut. He'd needed Neeshka to retreat when there was enough room for her to get past him but not so much room that he was too far from the doorway. So there was at most a few moments either way there and in how fast he could cast the spell. Blake staggered backwards out into the corridor to join his rather more quick-footed darling.

"Are you okay harbour-boy?" Neeshka asked, rather concerned as she thought she smelt singed beard hairs.

"Shield is a little scorched, but I'm still moving."

"Uh-oh," Neeshka said, looking at the doorway, "looks like they are as well."

The flock of animated weapons had recovered from the shock of being fireballed and were bobbing and weaving as they started to pass through the doorway and out into the corridor in pursuit. The wood of the Warhammer was smouldering slightly, as was the cloth wrapped around the hilts of some of the other weapons, but aside from that, as Blake had expected, they seemed unaffected. Neeshka had just time to give Blake a slight worried glance before she realised her harbour-way was muttering words of magic again. The animated weapons bobbed a little closer and then a great wave of freezing energy surged down the corridor and over them as Blake completed his spell of Cone of Cold. They hissed as moisture in the air around them froze from the spell and then boiled away again as those tiny ice crystals met the heated metal.

"Well, that cooled them off again, but…" Neeshka started to say.

Then she felt a sense of déjà vu as she realised her harbour-boy was still chanting and although she didn't understand the words she did notice this had the same cadence as before. A moment or two passed as the animated weapons started to recover and then another wave of freezing energy from a second Cone of Cold played over the weapons. This time the ice that formed on them did not boil away and their movements became more sluggish as they suddenly weighed that much more.

"Slowed them down at least."

"Hopefully I did more," Blake replied, moving forward and swinging his sword.

As the magically enhanced edge of his blade met the ice coating one of the floating daggers the ice shattered, but then so did the dagger itself. Fragments of metal and ice tinkled on the corridor floor as Blake brought his sword back to smash through another animated weapon. And another, and then another. Neeshka recovered from her surprise and stabbed her rapier forward, its point meeting the flat of one floating sword. As the floating sword cracked in two and the two inert halves fell to the floor Neeshka looked at Blake.

"Metal gets brittle when it gets very cold," Blake commented, noticing the look, "or can do when quickly heated and cooled, or both."

Soon all the animated weapons were in smaller pieces on the floor and, unlike the Undead, were showing no signs of twitching. Blake looked down at them and blessed Aldanon for being so inclined to wander so far away from the point of what they were trying to discuss. It made it hard to get a straight answer from the sage but this was not the first time the unasked for information had ended up being very useful. His boots crunched on ice and little fragments of metal as Blake advanced back into the room.

"I hope you have the spells to do that again," Neeshka said, slipping back past him and across to check the side door.

"I hope I don't have to," Blake replied, staying far enough back to give himself time to react and cast a fireball if he did have to.

Neeshka nodded to Blake and then triggered the door to open. She darted her head through the doorway quickly, glanced around, and withdrew in one quick flurry of motion. It had been very useful in her former profession to be able to take in an entire scene with a quick glance around a corner. "No more animated weapons or weapons on the floor, just a workbench and a statue."

"Blast," Blake muttered. "One more dead-end."

Neeshka gave Blake a smile to say 'how can it be bad, I'm here' and then started checking over the crates and weapon racks. When her harbour-boy had paid for the renovation of the Captain's Quarters and the private wing at Crossroad Keep he had been pleasantly surprised to find the gift of a Bag of Holding. It had not taken many longing looks before that gift had become Neeshka's and, as Blake watched her happy looting, he was glad it had. The smile she'd given him when he'd succumbed to her hints had been enough payment, but that giving it to her had prevented the damned Red Wizards stealing it was a fine bonus. A few more items disappeared into the, theoretically, almost infinite capacity of the Bag of Holding before Neeshka straightened and looked back at Blake.

"Better check the other room," Blake said, his tone conveying how much he felt that would probably be a waste of time.

"Come on harbour-boy, cheer up," Neeshka chided, "adventure and loot."

Blake forced a smile. "Aye, adventure and loot."

Neeshka put a bit of extra sway in her hips and deliberately brushed past Blake, letting her tail stroke his leg slightly as she passed. She glanced over her shoulder and then smiled to herself as she saw Blake was admiring the sway. It was good at times to be able to distract him so easily from feeling discouraged. Blake dragged his mind back onto business as they moved down the short side corridor. He knew full well how Neeshka had just manipulated him, but he also knew how much he enjoyed being manipulated by her. She had very skilled fingers… but that was not what he should be thinking about now rather than being alert for threats. Blake braced himself as Neeshka triggered this third door.

"Golems…" Neeshka reported. Blake drove his boots into the floor to close the gap between himself and Neeshka. Some Golems could be resistant to magic so he needed to keep them bottled up in the doorway if he could. "Whoa, whoa," she exclaimed, taken by surprise by the reaction, "they're not active."

Blake slowed his charge to a walk and looked into the room. Neeshka was right, the Golems slumped along one wall were showing no signs of pseudo-life and even the one that seemed to still have a spark was not reacting to their arrival. Very cautiously Blake moved into the room and started examining the Golems and the alchemy bench that shared the room with them.

"I think these might be Skerry," Blake said thoughtfully, "no Immy… Imma…"

"Imaskari?" Neeshka asked casually.

"How did you know that?" Blake replied, not hiding that he was impressed.

Neeshka shrugged and smiled prettily, "You need to know where stuff comes from before you can fence it for the best price."

"True enough," Blake admitted with a nod. "Anyway, I think I could reactivate this one, but I'm not sure if it would then just attack us. Maybe I should have paid more attention to what Grobnar did with that construct." He sighed and turned to Neeshka. "Never thought when we met him I'd miss him, rather than wanting him to be gone."

"Think of it this way," Neeshka said comfortingly, "he's probably telling tales about you in his heaven right now…"

"That doesn't help."

"And being waited on hand and foot by that pair of Gnome sisters that wanted him to join their pack," Neeshka finished, ignoring the interruption.

Blake smiled. "Hmm. They might have made it, they were trying to not kill people despite having been made Werewolves."

"Even if it doesn't attack us," Neeshka said, changing the subject back, "Golems are even more heavy-footed than you. I don't think we want to give these spirits the extra warning."

Blake thought a moment and then nodded. "Aye, let's just keep looking for a way out."

Leaving the Golems and the remains of the animated weapons behind them they climbed back up towards the barrow proper. Blake wondered if the Golem would have even been able to make this climb if he had reactivated it. Walking and fighting would have been what it was programmed for, not for finding firm footing that would support its very solid weight. Turning his thoughts from that Blake considered what to do next.

"Been north of here, all the way north was that library, partway was the route that was blocked. But we did come west from where we came up, and I think there was a corridor going further east from there."

"There was," Neeshka confirmed, a little surprised her harbour-boy sounded unsure about this. After some of the labyrinthine tombs she had found her way through keeping track of the passageways here was very simple.

Emerging back into the barrow they headed east and down the passage that Blake had thought, and Neeshka had known, was there. This split and Blake hesitated a moment before shrugging and turning right to head south. However as they continued this seemed a mistake as ahead of them a quartet of diffuse patches of light appeared in mid-air. Once more Blake drew his sword and as something seemed to condense out of each of those lights he wondered what it was they were going to face.

"Ghost-animals!" Blake exclaimed what was forming became clear, a note of fear that surprised Neeshka entering his voice.

Neeshka glanced at Blake and then met the attack of one, it sprang forward and Neeshka thrust out with her sword into its snarling mouth. This was not that good a move as, although it stabbed through the roof of the mouth into the brain, it risked the attacker's blade wedging in the skull. Fortunately for Neeshka the spirit-animal reacted as it would have done in life to such a blow even though it had no brain to wound and no skull to trap her sword. As Neeshka drew her rapier back and the spirit-animal convulsed, blocking the other spirit-animals for a moment with its death throes, she glared slightly at Blake who was hanging back.

"Harbour-boy," Neeshka said, slightly snappishly, "fight going on."

Blake looked at Neeshka and then back at the spirit-animals as he gathered his thoughts. The decision suddenly became very simple to him and he stepped forward, a snarl equalling that of the spirit-animal escaping him as fear turned to anger at his near failure. Blake slammed his shield into one as it pounced; bowling it back into another with the strength his magical belt gave him. As the spirit-animals tried to disentangle themselves from each other he brought his sword down, the broad blade slicing through them both and into the dirt floor.

The forms of the two spirit-animals swirled and dissipated in the same way as Blake had been too busy to notice the other one doing. As he pulled his sword back out of the dirt and the swirling spirit-energy however he suddenly felt his arm weigh a lot more as spirit-teeth closed on the armour. Blake staggered slightly as his arm was dragged down and the spirit-animal started wrenching back and forth, its paws slipping slightly in the loose soil. In some ways it was a surprise that a spirit would have weight, but in other ways it made sense as if they weighed nothing then how could they pounce with any impact or indeed, as here, try to use their weight to drag prey down.

Blake tried to not resist the wrenching motions, to move with the spirit-animal rather than against it. Even spirit-teeth did not do much other than scratch the Mithril protecting his forearm as they slid slightly across it with each wrench. The danger was not that the teeth would get through; the danger was that a wrench in the wrong direction could dislocate his elbow or take him off balance and bring him down to where the spirit-animal could get at his throat or face. Eventually Blake, unlike a spirit, would tire and make a fatal mistake.

Unfortunately for the spirit-animal eventually was far too long. Neeshka saw her chance and stabbed forward, her rapier entering the spirit-animal just behind its shoulder and passing through where it would have had its heart and out the other side. She released the hilt and stepped back, letting go of the sword before it could be torn from her hand by the spirit-animal's writhing, her sword hand going to her dagger she more often used for cutting tripwires or slicing bread than for fighting. Blake felt the spirit-animal's jaw clench in pain, his armour flexing slightly within it, but then the spirit-muscles relaxed and he was able to pull his arm free and also step back. They watched as the spirit-animal twisted about, trying to turn its head to bite at the rapier piercing its body, before its energies swirled and dissipated. There was a slight thump as Neeshka's sword, no longer supported by the spirit-animal's body, fell to the floor As Neeshka moved forward to pick this up she glanced at Blake who was examining his forearm armour.

"So, what was that about?" Neeshka asked, picking up her sword and dusting a bit of dirt off it.

"What was what…" Blake began to say, before the expression on Neeshka's face brought his denials to a halt. She looked at him and Blake realised honesty was the only option, "I was worried that if I fought ghost-animals the hunger inside me would awake again, and not as easily return to sleep, but I realised I was more worried you'd be hurt if I did nothing."

Neeshka's expression of impatience shifted to a smile. Her harbour-boy could have expanded on the subject a little, could have added some pretty declarations of love and devotion, but simple straightforward honesty from her simple straightforward sweetheart was, in some ways, more touching. Unlike many men she had known Blake was more inclined to do things rather than talk endlessly about what he was going to do and what he had done before. Blake was still embarrassed by his hesitation so rather than bask in the smile he looked away down southwards past where the spirit-animals had appeared and then took a few quick strides to peer around the slight corner and around the chamber the passageway flared into. He'd not expected anything else, there had been no draught and no smells of fresh air, but it was still disappointing to see the dead end.

"North?" Neeshka asked.

"North," sighed Blake.

Backtracking swiftly they were soon past where they had turned south and had entered yet another section of unexplored but familiar looking earthen corridor. Blake sniffed at the air as something about it seemed to be changing, but nothing seemed to smell different. He felt like he was on the verge of realising what the change was but then there was a rumble, a large section of the wall detached itself, and Blake had other things to consider. The dirt shaped itself into a Barrow Guardian and it plodded towards Blake and Neeshka, the caps of the mushrooms still attached to its upper side wobbling slightly with each step. Unfortunately for it Blake was in no mood to waste time and, unlike against the previous Barrow Guardian, was back in full possession of his skills. It drew back one arm to swing a blow at Blake as he moved forward into range, but before it could strike Blake had. A flurry of blows carved into the Barrow Guardian, each one slicing away a chunk of mud and stones and discharging magic from Blake's sword into its body. Lumps of dirt sprayed in all directions like water from a wet dog shaking itself and, almost before Neeshka could react, there was nothing left for her to help defeat.

"At least these seem no angrier or stronger than before," commented Blake, glancing down at the pile of earth what had been left of the Barrow Guardian had collapsed into.

"Told you they couldn't get any madder," Neeshka pointed out, admiring how good her harbour-boy looked standing there victorious.

Blake smiled at that comment and then looked down the corridor and sniffed the air again. "Does the air seem colder to you?" he asked, suddenly realising what it was he was noticing.

"Maybe a little."

Blake nodded and felt very cautious optimism as he skirted the mud pile and started back down the passageway. The air was becoming colder which could mean the warm air of the barrow was escaping, so maybe they could as well. One of those Mud-Elementals had tried to try to block their way, which could mean this way was worth blocking. And was that a gleam of white?

"Is that snow?" Blake asked, feeling his pace quicken as he noticed this.

"Looks like it, a way out?"

"Could be, and if snow is drifting down here it must be quite a wide opening."

"Or… it could be that," Neeshka replied with a grimace as they entered the chamber at the end of the passageway.

Blake stopped and looked, this chamber was thick with snow and was cold but there was no opening in its walls. Scattered about in the snow were little piles of … things… and swirling towards them was something Blake had never seen but recognised from the bestiaries he had studied.

"What is it?" Neeshka whispered.

"An Orglash," Blake replied, just as quietly. "A spirit of air and winter."

"Hells! That explains the snow and the cold."

"This one must tell you that you are not welcome here," the Orglash said, stopping just far enough away to not draw an attack. "This one must also tell you to disturb nothing or this one must kill you. This one is sorry."

"We just want to find a way out," Blake replied, not intimidated.

"Besides it doesn't look like that stuff is nice enough to take anyway," Neeshka frowned lightly, casting a practised eye over the piles, "why are you even bothering to guard scraps of bone?"

"This one must guard the sacred Rashemi offerings and let none disturb them. Such are the terms of this one's punishment."

"Punishment?" Blake asked. This spirit did not seem hostile, and if it was being punished then perhaps it would be willing to help against those punishing it.

"This one woke Okku from his slumber and for his mischief is bound to this place for one hundred years," the Orglash said, continuing to talk despite having told them they were unwelcome. "This one's freedom will come in fifty-seven years, when this one is destroyed, or when this one is made to serve a master."

Blake slowly nodded. "What do you know of this Okku?"

"Okku is lord of this place," the Orglash replied, its swirling form perhaps shuddering as it remembered. "His rage was terrible when he was awoken and he is very powerful and very angry in his wrath."

That did not sound promising but it was better to be forewarned. This could be a hard fight, and it did not sound like talking would work if Okku was that full of rage when he woke. Neeshka sidled closer to Blake's side and raised herself slightly onto her tiptoes to whisper into his ear as he tilted his head to her lips. "Ask about the master part."

Blake nodded, he had noticed but that was still a good suggestion. "What was that you said about a master?"

"This one shall be bound to its master, go where he goes, for the remainder of this one's sentence," the Orglash said, what could be hope entering its voice. "This one finds such servitude preferable to this place. Command this one to serve and it shall be so."

Blake hesitated, Orglashes were reputedly rather fickle so this might be an unreliable servant but it would be better than having to destroy it. That it wanted him to take it into his service did explain why it had not attacked, the Orglash had been working towards 'revealing' it could be commanded to serve and thus escape. An idea occurred to Blake and he nodded to the Orglash. "Then let it be so, I command you to serve me."

The Orglash swirled more violently as it condensed and vanished. Blake felt a shiver run up his side as the belt pouch the Red Wizards had left him was suddenly no longer empty and became very cold. Blake shifted the pouch around and, examining it, pulled out a strange crystal, glad he had gauntlet leather rather than bare fingers against it.

"Certainly shrunk down a lot," Neeshka commented.

"And still very cold," Blake replied, feeling his fingers start to hurt a little, "but there is a simple solution."

"Ooooh, I love it when you try to be devious," Neeshka grinned. "You are such a village boy it's always so cute the things you come up with."

Blake was not sure whether to be insulted by being called a village boy or pleased Neeshka thought it was cute, but rather than consider this at length he just bent and stuffed the crystal into the heart of one of the offering piles. "There," he said, straightening up and flexing his fingers to get more feeling back into them, "we didn't need to fight it, it gets to stay here for the rest of its sentence, and I don't get a cold side or hip where that pouch presses against it."

Neeshka shook her head at Blake, her grin widening before she started digging through the offering piles. Blake watched his sweetheart as she nimbly sorted through each pile in turn; leaving them thoroughly examined but her fingers so deft they looked undisturbed. The only thing she seemed to take was a single shiny ring.

"It said these were offerings didn't it?"

"Yep, though these spirits must be easily pleased," Neeshka complained, "not one nice thing here…"

"Neeshka," Blake said, remembering the ring.

"Sorry," Neeshka replied with an apologetic smile, "force of habit, I meant… only one nice thing here. No other gems or jewellery or gold."

"I'd certainly rather see you wearing fine jewellery than scraps of bone," Blake said, falling prey to Neeshka's smile again.

Neeshka wiggled her eyebrows at Blake with a leer. "Were you thinking I'd be wearing anything else?"

"Hopefully a smile," Blake replied, returning the friendly leer and teasing tone, "but as I was going to say, if these are what the spirits like then maybe we can appease them."

"Can't hurt, might at least make it easier to stab them if they are not expecting it."

"Cynical, but true," Blake agreed with a nod, moving across to one pile and looking in a bag that was on top of it. "This satchel seems to have bits of bone and what looks to be tinder, maybe burn it?"

"Could be smelly, though not as smelly as a zombie being hit by one of your fire spells… so what the Hells. We can try."

They were able to move swiftly back to the chamber through which Neeshka had entered the barrow. No more spirit animals formed out of patches of light and no more Barrow Guardians extruded themselves from the wall to block their way. Blake looked around the chamber and nodded. "Right," Blake said dubiously, "this hollowed out tree stump looks a good place to put a fire."

"Good a place as any, but what if nothing happens?"

"Then we might have to see if we are both wrong about the spirits not being able to get angrier. Smashing those bones might enrage them enough to bring whatever is maintaining that barrier out where we can kill it."

"That would be a big bear," Neeshka said, gesturing at the bones, "and we don't have the tree-worshipper to turn into a lady bear and divert it."

Blake bit back a laugh before managing to reply. "I don't think that's what they mean by a Druid's intimate bond with nature…"

Neeshka just grinned unrepentantly as Blake moved across to the tree stump and placed the offering pouch in it. She had never liked Elanee and saw no reason to stop mocking her just because she wasn't there, and especially since Blake seemed more relaxed about it. However much her harbour-boy, and he was her harbour-boy, had said he understood and respected the Druidess' reasons to return to the Mere he'd have been more likely to frown than to laugh before. Making a joking comment of his own rather than trying to play peacemaker would have been almost unthinkable.

With a twitch of magic Blake ignited the pouch and thick smoke billowed up from it. He hurriedly stepped back, coughing and waving his hand in front of his face, wearing an expression similar to when he'd found Grobnar had tried to cook and then got distracted by trying to compose a song about cooking. Though even that smoke had smelled nicer than this despite Grobnar's strange choice of ingredients.

"Ack, that is worse than I thought it would be," Blake whinged. "A lot of smoke and a lot of pungency to it."

Neeshka sneezed despite her pretty nose having blood of the lower planes where bad smells were common. "Maybe fighting a giant bear wouldn't have been so bad after all," she replied with a sniff. "Still…seems to have worked."

Blake nodded and led the way out through where the soil had fallen away and re-opened the passage. Even he was not sure whether this was to place himself between Neeshka and the dangers ahead or to get away from the smell as soon as possible. This was only a short curving passageway and led straight to another opening in the wall, but this one had no stonework around it and the earth ramp past it led upwards. Blake gave a suspicious look up this ramp before starting to climb with Neeshka behind and below him and wishing her harbour-boy didn't have so much armour over his cute arse.

"Tree roots?" Blake commented as they emerged back onto the flat. That showed they were relatively near the surface though how close they were depended on how large the trees were. If they'd grown in Crossroad Keep the roots of some ancient giants would almost reach down to the river at the base of the hill.

"Well spotted harbour-boy, we are getting close to the exit. Just have to hope what was by it hasn't woken up."

"What do you mean?"

"The bear skeleton right by the entrance was even larger than the one we just passed. Now call me silly, and it does seem silly to put your most important bones right by the way in and out… I mean, it would have made some jobs so much easier if they'd left things by the door or window…."

Blake kissed his fingers and then pressed them against Neeshka's lips as she started to babble slightly. He smiled fondly at her before replying. "You're saying the bear-god, the one who is grumpy when he wakes up, might be between us and fresh air… Ow."

Neeshka smiled, showing the sharp teeth she had just nipped the ends of Blake's fingers with to unseal her lips. "Could be," she agreed as Blake looked at the faint toothmarks in the thin leather of his gauntlet fingers, "but I'm not letting any walking rug hurt you."

"If it hurts you," Blake replied, his hand clenching automatically into a fist, "there won't be enough left of it to be a rug."

"Seems a waste," Neeshka commented with a wink, "but love you harbour-boy."

They had only moved a short distance when Neeshka gestured for Blake to stop. Blake looked at her enquiringly as she leaned closer. "Let me go ahead and see," Neeshka muttered.

"I…" Blake started to protest before common sense reminded him Neeshka could move far quieter without him.

Reluctantly, not wanting to let her out of his sight, Blake nodded and Neeshka crept forward while Blake watched anxiously. She threw one glance and a cheery wink over her shoulder as she rounded the corner, but then she was gone. Blake laughed silently at himself as he realised he must be worried. He was sure Neeshka had moved with the same grace that normally he appreciated but this time he had been too concerned to notice. Time dragged by and Blake's confidence that he'd have heard some noise if Neeshka had been caught or seen began to erode and be replaced by the urge to go after her.

"Boo!" Neeshka said playfully.

Blake jumped, his sword coming out of its scabbard and into his hand as he whirled. Neeshka giggled, tears coming to her eyes as she pointed at Blake and then bent in the middle slightly as she suppressed the giggle-fit and fought for breath. It only took a few seconds before she straightened up and, dabbing at the tears with a finger, gave Blake a brilliant grin he found hard to resist.

"Nice reactions," Neeshka said, calming down.

Blake tried to look stern, to think about the risk Neeshka had taken rather than how happy her being happy made him. "I could have…"

"No you couldn't," Neeshka interrupted. "Like I said, nice reactions, as in I know you wouldn't just strike wildly." For a moment Blake just looked at her. He really was not sure if her faith in him was justified, if she could rely on him always taking the extra split-second to judge where to place the blow or in this case to judge to not place it anywhere. Neeshka looked back at him and wondered whether Blake would ever trust himself as much as she trusted him, and whether he'd get all conceited if he did. "Anyway," she said, ending the mutual staring. "Good news and bad news. Good news is your sexy Tiefling is back without being spotted, bad news is that there's a very colourful looking bear spirit with an extremely grumpy expression in front of us."

"Do you think you could get past it with…"

"With you trying to sneak as well?" Neeshka interrupted peevishly. "That was what you were going to say, I know you would not end that sentence 'without me'."

Blake took a deep breath and nodded slightly. "Of course… trying to ensure your safety at the expense of mine would not be something you'd favour."

"Better believe it harbour-boy," Neeshka muttered.

"Let's explore around a little more, we might be near enough the surface that if a tree has fallen it might have ripped some soil free with it. Or there could have been a landslide, or just something that would let us avoid fighting a foe described as a god."

"No skin off my horns," Neeshka smiled, "more exploring means more loot."

Unfortunately although Tymorra blessed Neeshka with luck with finding a few more chests that was to no great advantage. Even with how prettily she could pout Blake remained, fairly, firm over not taking too much from the barrow proper and there were no clues that might lead them to an exit their searching had not revealed. Examining a wall in the final chamber they'd found Blake shook his head at the sense of magic about even the normal looking walls in this barrow.

"No other exits," Blake smiled tiredly at Neeshka, "and even if we could dig quietly enough for this Okku to not hear I think the magic of this barrow would resist our digging and betray that attempt to him."

Neeshka smiled back but that only fuelled the flush of anger that suddenly seeped up Blake's neck and down his arms. He had accepted death for himself when he had been helpless and seen the Gargoyle coming for him. It felt much less acceptable though to risk death for Neeshka against an enemy as powerful as this Okku must be and he had to damp down his rage at the situation. At least against the King of Shadows they had not been alone and, as terrible as the need would have been, Zhjave had been a powerful enough cleric to be able to return people from death. There was nothing Blake could do now though; there was no other way out of this barrow and there was no way to prevent Neeshka staying by his side other than trying to tie her up or knock her out.

"Together against a Bear-God then?" Blake reluctantly sighed.

"Together against anything," Neeshka affirmed, glad that her harbour-boy was not going to waste time trying to stop her coming with him.

Blake hesitated and then pulled his helmet off. Neeshka had just enough time to give him a puzzled glance before he dropped the helmet and closed the distance between them with two quick strides. Neeshka's 'eep' of surprise as she was crushed to her harbour-boy's body was muffled as Blake's lips covered hers and drew her into a rough passionate kiss. For a moment she wondered if her earlier fantasy about being pushed up against a wall was coming true, if Blake had decided this might be their last chance and it, and she, needed to be taken but then she felt his lips lift and him release her.

Neeshka ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, savouring how they felt more sensitive after that 'punishment' and smiling as she saw the look of chagrin on Blake's face as he bent to pick his helmet back up. She wouldn't love him if he was the sort to want to hurt a woman but there was a lot of leeway between abuse and being treated as if you would break under all but the most delicate touch. Her luck with men had not been that good but now she had a harbour-boy she was not going to let him get away with only playing one tune on his Tiefling.

Unaware of Neeshka's thoughts Blake hurriedly dusted his helmet off and crammed it onto the chainmail hood that covered ears turning purple with embarrassment. She deserved better than to be treated with such lack of consideration. It would be easy to blame the hunger Blake could still feel within him, but this had not reacted at all to the kiss so he knew the impulse had come purely from him and the failure was his. Not trusting himself to speak Blake led the way back down the passage, followed by an amused rather than offended Neeshka. She stayed close to him as they moved the short distance and Blake strode into the chamber of the bear-god with more confidence than he felt. There was indeed a grumpy though colourful bear-spirit awaiting them but what Neeshka had not mentioned was that its, his, jaws looked large enough to engulf Blake's entire chest in one bite. Even if this had been a bear of flesh rather than spirit-magic Blake would have bet on him in a fight against either, or even both, of the pair of Black Dragons they had fought.

"What stirs the air and smells so foul?" Okku rumbled, glaring at them with yellow eyes. "Go back… and die in the silence and the dark. I am tired and ill of temper."

"Smells so foul?" sneered Neeshka, before Blake could reply with something more placating. "You could put a Hezrou to shame, and that is without your fur getting damp."

"Graaaah," Okku growled, becoming even more ill of temper at this insolence. "Your blood of the lower planes is almost pleasant compared with what I sense in your companion, but it shall spill all the same."

"Wait," said Blake, trying to emulate The Lord of Song Milil rather The Lord of Battle Tempus. It had likely been too late for eloquent words even before Neeshka and Okku had exchanged insults but Blake felt the need to at least try. "I have no argument with you. Red Wizards brought me here so my presence is not of my choosing. I ask you to allow me to pass and I will go in peace and with gratitude."

"I do not make bargains. Not in my own den. Not after what you have done since your arrival. Bare your throat if you desire peace and I will give it to you. I know what you are little one; I smell the hunger that wakes in you."

"Like I care what you smell," sneered Neeshka again. "Try biting him and I'll wear your teeth as a necklace."

"Perhaps I misjudged you Tiefling, your love outweighs your heritage," Okku grumbled, looking as if he preferred plain threats to Blake's attempt at diplomacy. His snarl deepened. "But neither will save you. Enough words! By the oath I swore you will not leave my den!"

There was a slight hiss of blade over metal scabbard-guard as Blake matched Okku's glare and drew his sword. This creature had threatened and insulted Neeshka and refused to listen. He had the right to wish for vengeance after what had happened to that spirit wolf, but Blake felt that vengeance should be directed towards the Red Wizards who had instigated this.

"Then we will leave over your corpse 'god of bears'," Blake replied, managing to get almost as much disdain into his voice as Ammon Jerro would have managed.

Okku moved, great hindquarters thrusting him forward and a paw with claws as long as Blake's hand swiping around. Blake dodged, there would be no parrying or blocking that sort of blow, and flicked his sword out and across Okku's shoulder. This was a fast strike rather than, like Okku's, having much weight or power behind it, but it was still an unpleasant surprise for Blake to see and feel it barely cut in. The wound shimmered and the edges of it knitted back together as Okku roared and turned slightly to follow Blake's movements. Blake feinted a few times and managed to keep Okku's attention long enough to give Neeshka an opening. She stabbed in at Okku's waist from slightly behind him, aiming for the soft spot between ribcage and hip. The tip of the rapier started to enter Okku's body but then seemed to go no further, the momentum of the attack instead causing it to skitter to one side in a long shallow cut and taking Neeshka slightly off balance as her thrust became a slice.

Whirling in his own body length Okku snapped his huge jaws at Neeshka who barely hopped back of range. The wound on his side was still shimmering and knitting together as Blake tried to open another on the bear-god. Blake's sword barely cut into the 'meat' of Okku's thigh; he'd hoped to slow him but this was too shallow a wound to do this even had he still been flesh rather than a spirit. Blake readied himself for Okku's counterattack but rather than turn again and leave himself between the two Okku sprang instead at Neeshka.

Neeshka flung herself out of the way as a bear-god landed where she had just been; his massive claws gouging furrows in the dirt rather than in her. For a moment she was down on one knee and one hand, but she almost seemed to bounce as she flexed like a cat landing to bring her back onto her feet, her tail swishing behind her in counterbalance to her body. Neeshka continued moving and closer to Blake who had started moving to help her. Given a moment to think he'd have said it was unlikely Okku would have managed to hit Neeshka, and unlikely she'd have slipped in dodging, but he hadn't had that moment and even if he had 'unlikely' was not the same as 'impossible'.

"Are we hurting him?" asked Neeshka quietly, as they backed away slightly.

"Hurting him yes," Blake replied equally quietly as Okku turned, slowly padding forward to close the distance again, "and hopefully also wearing him down with having to reform his wounds."

Neeshka nodded to this as the pair of them began to drift apart a little, trying to get round to either flank of Okku. If they could keep seesawing him between them, one attacking and then the other, then they might be able to wear him down. Okku shifted his glare one way then the other as he watched their motions and then he roared.

"Spirits- to me!" Okku commanded. "Battle calls!"

Around the edges of the chamber lights appeared and began to condense into spirit-animals. Noting this Neeshka gave him an expression of disgust, what sort of God needed help fighting mortals?

"Wimp!"

"Graaahhhhhh!" Okku roared at the impudent Tiefling. "I shall rend you limb from limb."

Blake glanced around, judging distances and gathering some arcane power as he chanted. A moment after Okku's followers finished forming Blake completed his spell of Firebrand and a ball of flame formed in front of him to split and streak out into the new spirits and Okku. The god-of-bears shrugged this off but the other spirits seemed staggered as the smaller balls struck them. Blake turned and swung his sword up and around as he did, the tip passing through what would have been above head height on a human but was across the throat of the spirit-bear rearing up to crush him with a bear-hug. To Blake's relief this cut much further into that spirit's neck than it likely would on Okku, slicing it open to what would have been its spine to send its form swirling and vanishing.

Neeshka had a different problem; a spirit-badger was attacking her and it was so low slung she couldn't get at throat or chest as it snapped at her. A moment's thought and she stabbed it deftly in the eye. It screamed and thrashed its head about, trying to shake away the pain but also rearing up enough to expose the front of its chest. Another quick precise thrust from Neeshka pierced where its heart would have been in the moment it was exposed. Neeshka danced back out of range of the death throes and spared a glance for Blake.

"Watch out!" Neeshka called as the spirit-badger's form dissolved into a swirl of energy.

Blake reacted, barely getting his kite-shaped shield in line to take some of the impact and managing to just about roll with the blow without losing his footing. Like his sword his shield was imbued with magic, but Okku's claws still scored lines across its face. Blake staggered backwards slightly as Okku pressed his advantage and then fear, but not for himself, for Neeshka, came to his face as he saw her move. She rushed forward and stabbed at Okku, looking as if she was aiming to geld him. If that was her intent she missed, but Okku roared and was distracted from Blake as Neeshka's rapier plunged into the meat of his haunches.

A spirit-wolf sprang at Neeshka as she pulled her sword back from the hurried blow, trying to catch her off balance and bite at the back of her neck. Unfortunately for it Blake had regained his balance and had enough time to mutter another spell. A beam of magical energy streaked across the chamber and into it in mid spring. The Disintegrate was sufficiently strong and the spirit-wolf sufficiently weak that the spell blasted it apart at the waist, the two halves of it swirling and vanishing before they could thump to the floor.

Still distracted by the agony of having almost been gelded Okku had turned his body and head slightly in following the path of the beam and in looking behind himself at Neeshka. Blake took advantage of this to swing a short powerful blow at Okku's head, aiming for just behind the jaw where it joined the neck. This was a good solid hit, not cutting as deep as Blake hoped but deep enough and quite precisely placed. Okku snarled and faced Blake more fully again, the width of his great head almost hiding that this wound was shimmering and knitting back together slightly slower than those they'd inflicted before.

Trusting Blake to keep Okku busy Neeshka concentrated on preventing the other spirits from aiding him. Another spirit-wolf sprang at her, though whether to go for her throat or to just get her out of the way Neeshka was not sure. Either way she simply sidestepped and then brought her sword-arm across so the blade on that leather-padded and metal-backed bracer laid the spirit-wolf's back open from hackles almost to tail as it passed. A rapier needed a bit of space to be effective and, though Neeshka would rather retreat to get enough room again, she did appreciate her harbour-boy's gift having a blade for really close in work.

The harder Blake pressed Okku the more sluggish the bear-god became. It was strange, Blake thought, he was the mortal so it should be him that was getting tired. Again and again Blake's sword dabbed out in short stabs and slashes at Okku's fearsome face, causing him to flinch to protect eyes and nose and keeping him off balance and reacting to what Blake was doing. Okku howled as his nose was scratched, no deeper than the wound a cat might inflict in warning on an overcurious dog, but still painful as sword magic discharged into it.

The last of Okku's allies, a spirit-badger, charged at Neeshka to try to aid its god. She nimbly sidestepped and then jumped as it passed, for one moment both her feet were on its back, her legs flexing as she rode it as if standing on a log floating down a turbulent stream. It barely noticed her slight weight but then she stabbed down at the back of its head, where spine would join skull in a creature of flesh, and leapt again continuing her motion across it. Neeshka flung her sword-arm out to one side as she rolled through the landing and back onto her feet. If she landed wrong she could hurt that extended arm, but better that than risking falling on her own blade. As Neeshka quickly turned she was glad to see she had struck true; the spirit-badger was swirling and vanishing rather than charging at her.

Okku swung one mighty paw and Blake saw a chance to do the same to the bear-god as he had to the King of Shadows. Rather than dodge he met the paw with the edge of his sword as they swung in opposite directions. Blake pain jar up his arm as the shock of the impact travelled through elbow and shoulder and his arm was driven back against the force of his swing. For a moment Blake felt his sword slipping from his hand and he barely managed to hang on to it as he staggered back a few steps. Okku roared as he put some weight on his slightly mangled paw and quickly drew it back up off the ground. There was a shimmering around it, so it was healing, but for now Okku was limping on three legs.

Blake adjusted his grip on his sword and got his shield back in position. While Okku was limping he was slowed and he'd need to rear up on his hind legs to swing with his good forepaw. That would be a more powerful attack, as it would have his weight behind it as he came back down, but easier to dodge. Okku roared again as Blake started forward, anger rather than pain fuelling his voice. Blake started twitching his sword, the dim light glinting off the blade that was still shiny and clean as spirits left no gore to coat it. Okku's eyes followed these movements but, though he was furious, he was not yet driven stupid with rage. Rather than allow himself to be distracted by Blake's efforts he turned and shuffled backwards slightly, placing the approaching Neeshka to one side of him rather than giving her another chance to stab him in the rear.

As their eyes met Blake nodded slightly to Neeshka. They had wounded the bear-god and he was not healing as fast now; if they could keep pressing the attack there was a chance of victory. Okku's great head tilted back and forth slightly as he glanced between his two smaller foes and he smelt their growing confidence. He would not be defeated in his own den so silently he called, snarling to try to keep their attention on him. Blake twitched as, despite the attempted distraction, he saw more lights start to appear around the chamber. There was a chance that if those were more spirit-animals that they would be tougher and, even if they were not, they would give Okku time to gather his strength by their sacrifice. It seemed there was not much time so throwing caution to the wind Blake charged. Okku hesitated a split-second in surprise and then threw himself to meet this, ignoring the pain in his healing paw as that along with his others dug into the soft soil floor.

"Harbour-boy!" Neeshka had just time to exclaim before he and Okku met.

Blake's sword stabbed forward and embedded itself deep in one side of Okku's chest, but Okku twisted slightly and made the thrust too far off centre to strike anything vital. Instead it wedged itself in what would have been the meat between Okku's skin and ribcage. Blake felt his arm being driven back to his side but then the centre of Okku's chest met his shield and he was bowled over backwards. Blake let out an 'oof' as his back hit the dirt floor and Okku's weight pressed down on him, trapping his shield and shield-arm between his chest and Okku's. At least the dirt had been soft enough to cushion this landing a little and Blake was glad his elbow-guard had dug into it. He'd managed to keep hold of his sword, but that could have hurt without that extra inch of room between elbow and wrist.

Okku's weight shifted about as he tried to bring his huge jaws down to bite at something so close to his own chest. Blake squirmed a little as he tried to see how much leverage he could get to twist his sword where it was embedded in Okku but, trapped as it was between hilt and floor, he could barely move his sword-arm. Okku made a couple of experimental snaps at Blake's head as Blake released his sword and tried to reach his dagger. Fortunately for Blake there was a little room between his shield and the floor so he was able to just about slide his hand down his side to his waist. If he could get his dagger then he might be able to stab Okku in the eye or the open mouth. Unfortunately for Blake Okku realised this as well and as Blake's fingers closed on the hilt of his dagger Okku shifted his weight again, rolling Blake to one side a little and trapping his sword-arm at his side.

Okku had just time to snarl in satisfaction though before this became a roar of pain. Neeshka had closed the distance and had buried her rapier almost to the basket-hilt in Okku, stabbing into his flank and up beneath what would have been his ribcage. She wrenched it to one side as she pulled it back, risking snapping the slender blade she'd barely had a chance to get used to but widening the wound as it withdrew. Okku turned his head slightly and saw Neeshka's rapier stabbing back at the rear of his head. He had no choice but to shift his weight again as he moved his head to turn this sword-thrust into only a glancing blow along one cheek.

Blake took the opportunity. Okku was more than distracted as Neeshka continued to flick her sword at his eyes, like a bird pecking at a cat with its chick between its paws, and the bear-god had shifted his weight enough that, with a heave, Blake freed his sword-arm again. If Okku were not distracted he'd have simply bounced his weight on Blake, squashing the breath out of his lungs and disrupting his words, but thanks to Neeshka Blake managed to finish the incantation. Flame sprang up around him as he created an Elemental Shield.

Okku drew back a little, more in surprise than because the flames were of much threat to him. Blake grabbed at the hilt of his sword where it still jutted from Okku's chest and a feral noise of satisfaction escaped his lips as he found he now had enough room to be able to twist it. Okku snarled back and then started to rear back onto his hind legs, both to avoid Neeshka's attempt to stab him in the temple and to crush the still prone Blake under one paw as he came back down. Blake did not let go of his sword though, letting Okku drag him up off the floor as Blake's weight dragged the edge of the blade down through Okku a little. Then there was a clank and a thump as Blake landed back on the floor and winded himself slightly. Okku had suddenly vanished and without the support the bear-god had been supplying through his sword he'd been seriously off balance. Standing Blake coughed a few times more as he got his breath back and looked around before he trusted himself to speak.

"Damn…" Blake said, insightfully.

"Where did it go?" Neeshka demanded, eyes darting around and tail still swishing in agitation.

"I think he escaped," Blake replied, "so no new necklace for you, and he might rebuild his strength and attack us again."

Neeshka pouted sadly, but with a twinkle in her eye. "No new necklace?"

"No new necklace of bear-god teeth," Blake chuckled, "but once we find a merchant…"

"I suppose I can settle for gold and jewels," Neeshka said, her mock pout breaking into a grin, "rather than smelly teeth on a string."

"I know, I know," Blake replied deadpan as he headed towards the exit that had unsealed itself with Okku's disappearance, "such sacrifices I ask of you."

Neeshka giggled and followed. It was only a short extra climb and both of them found fatigue fleeing as they smelt fresh air and saw the stars ahead of them. Blake glanced up at the stars to get some idea of what way they were facing and then down at the map, which Neeshka had unfolded and was holding, what looked like, a Ring of Scholars over. By the bright white light of the ring, designed to help study in dimly lit libraries, Blake studied the map a little and then the skies. He hoped the map and his memory of the constellations were both accurate and that Rashemen's skies were not too different from those above the Sword Coast.

"That way?" Blake pointed.

"Looks good to me," agreed Neeshka.

Blake led the way and to his relief Shaundakul seemed to smile on that exploring and they did find what seemed to be the road they were aiming for. 'Thank you for blessing our exploration of this land unknown,' Blake silently prayed, 'May you also bless our travel down this road and, if possible, allow us the fortune to find a portal to ease our journey onwards.' Neeshka frowned at him as he paused but with a smile of reassurance Blake started along the roughly cobbled surface towards Mulsantir. They travelled in silence for an hour or so as they both wanted to be able to hear if something was moving in the darkness and they wanted their breath for travelling fast rather for speaking. Eventually Blake slowed as they reached a bridge far wider than the stream over which it flowed. Clambering down the shallow bank Blake uttered a cantrip to create a light and looked beneath the bridge.

Neeshka followed with a puzzled frown. "What are you doing harbour-boy?" she asked as Blake nodded to himself.

"Looks like this stream swells in heavy rain or the winter thaws, but at the moment there is room between the bridge arch and the water."

"Thinking of camping here? I suppose under a bridge is out of sight of the road, but do you think we're far enough from the barrow?"

Blake glanced back down the road before replying. "I think we travelled far enough fast enough we can take a break. I need to check my chest and we need to check what supplies we have."

Neeshka nodded and with a sigh Blake loosened and slid his shield off his arm, unbuckled his swordbelt from his waist, and sat down and started removing his upper armour. Fortunately it was designed so parts could be removed to check wounds without it needing to all be stripped off, though in some ways Neeshka felt that was a mixed fortune as she'd have preferred Blake to strip more completely. Neeshka kept watch into the darkness as various clinks and clanks and creaks punctuated Blake's progress in undressing. This went quiet though so she glanced back and watched happily as he undid the ties holding padded shirt to padded trousers and then, having loosened the laces at his neck, drew this up and over his head. He took a few deep breaths before speaking.

"Aaaah, it is good to be able to breathe without having these bandages pressing on my chest. Even if my breastplate doesn't normally restrict my breathing there was not really enough room inside it for them."

"Those do look nasty," commented Neeshka, looking a little queasy at the dried blood that had soaked through them.

"Aye," Blake replied, leaning back and pressing his chin on his upper chest to try to look at them. "Can you do me a favour though and cut them away?"

Neeshka gave Blake a frown as she wasn't that squeamish. It was that her harbour-boy had been hurt that upset her rather than being bothered, much, by dried blood and dirty bandages. Deftly Neeshka slid her dagger in under the edge of the bandages, its razor sharp edge easily slicing through the layers of cloth covering one side of Blake's ribs. The bandages visibly loosened as that tension was released and as Neeshka also cut through the strips of cloth coming up over Blake's shoulder on that side. Then Blake brought his hand up to pull the bandages back and off over the other shoulder like a coat, but he hesitated.

"Ready?" Blake asked, looking at Neeshka.

"Of course," Neeshka replied, and he had no excuse to dither any longer.

With one swift movement Blake pulled the bandages away and shrugged them down that arm. Neeshka looked worried as he protested in pain and tears came to his eyes but Blake waved that concern away. He blinked a few times before speaking. "It's okay; just some chest hairs had got stuck to the bandages…" Blake said, musing almost to himself, "so that is what waxing my chest would feel like."

"Could be worse," giggled Neeshka, "think if you were waxing your…"

"I'd rather not think that," Blake replied with a glance down at his lap before he rubbed at his chest.

Neeshka peered at Blake and then went and dampened a cloth in the stream. "Get your hand out the way harbour-boy."

Blake rather enjoyed the sensation as Neeshka rubbed the cloth over his chest. Warmer water would have been even nicer but that this was pleasurable, rather than provoking pain as the cloth passed over where the wound had been, was promising. Neeshka almost resisted the temptation to do more than just a quick clean, but she couldn't stop herself from dipping her head forward to give Blake a quick kiss on the chest as she withdrew the cloth.

"Kissing it better?" asked Blake in pleased surprise.

"Hardly needed it," Neeshka replied, frowning slightly and nibbling lightly at her lower lip. "If it wasn't for all that blood on the bandages I'd not think you had been more than scratched. Well, not more than scratched and nicked several times…they shaved the middle of your chest and it looks like they were not careful about it."

"Aye," said Blake, rubbing his chest again and feeling the change between slightly furry and bald.

Neeshka looked at Blake sitting there and decided that, now she knew his chest had healed and she had cleaned it of dried gunk, a half-naked harbour-boy's lap was incomplete without a Tiefling in it. Blake happily agreed to this by hugging her to him, his bare chest pressing against Neeshka's armour as their lips met. Neeshka rather enjoyed the role reversal, normally it was Blake's chest that was the harder, his muscles against her soft breasts, but despite the novelty she decided she did prefer to not have armour between herself and her harbour-boy. She happily wiggled on his lap as the kiss continued, but then Blake jerked with an 'ow!' and Neeshka sprang back to her feet.

"Are you okay?" Neeshka asked, worriedly looking at Blake's chest where her leather breastplate had rubbed.

"Fine," said Blake, rubbing lower down on his stomach. "We just learned that fine chainmail links can act as tweezers on belly hair."

After a moment staring at him Neeshka giggled in relief and at the expression on Blake's face. He seemed rather irritated at the abrupt end to the snuggling. "One more reason to not kiss in armour," she said once she recovered.

Blake nodded ruefully. "Aye, either both in armour or both out of it."

"Easily solved," grinned Neeshka.

"True," Blake said, reaching for his padded shirt.

"That…wasn't what I meant," said Neeshka, slightly peevishly.

"You intoxicate me," Blake replied. "You fill my every sense with desire. When you are in my arms I can see nothing but you, I care about nothing but you and the passion we are sharing. The smell of you, the taste of you as I kiss you, the way you respond to me and fuel my desire as I fuel yours…" Neeshka blushed slightly and wondered how explicit Blake was going to get. "Which is why I need to get dressed," he concluded after a pause and with very evident reluctance. "We may be being hunted by ghost-animals and the way you affect me I'd not notice their approach… Hells, I'd barely notice if Okku roared in my ear."

"What an image," giggled Neeshka as Blake pulled his padded shirt back on over his head, "you naked and intent on me and Okku roaring away trying to get your attention while you ignore him."

"'Raaahhhh, I'm here to kill you!'" Blake said, dealing with the laces of his shirt.

"'Not now! Not now! Busy!'" replied Neeshka, dropping her voice to match Blake's fairly light one. "'Come back in an hour, no…make that two.'"

Blake chuckled a few times before changing the subject. "How are we for supplies? I'd not packed much as we were portaling straight from Crossroad Keep to the lair of the King of Shadows, and what I did pack has gone missing in my abduction."

"Like your cloak?"

"That I remember snagging and coming off," replied Blake, securing his chainmail, "but they took all my potions and trinkets, and why they took my bow and my quivers of arrows… not that I'd had much need to use it as my magic increased, but…"

Neeshka rooted in the Bag of Holding at her hip and pulled out a shortbow. "The Red Wizard had this," she interrupted, "and if you'd still had your longbow then you'd have not needed to be grateful to her for supplying you with a smaller one."

"That would apply to everything, including my gold. The more dependent I am on her 'generosity' the more grateful I might feel and the better for their plans to manipulate me. Of course, thanks to you, I know they were the ones that stole all that from me so I feel rather the opposite of grateful. I know my bow is either in the paws of a Gnoll or discarded somewhere in Thay."

Neeshka paused in her examination of the contents of her bags to give Blake a puzzled frown and a half-smile. "What is it with you and that bow?"

"I was used to it," Blake replied simply, starting to buckle on Mithril plates, "and there were a lot of memories, that scratch from when we fought that, having it my hand the first time I saw something else…"

"Ah," nodded Neeshka, that actually made a little sense though she'd never been attached to things herself. Aside from the lucky coin she and Leldon had stolen back and forth from each other and which had been one reason he had double crossed her on their last job together.

At the time she had thought that Beshaba's blessing as it had forced her to leave Neverwinter but now she thought it Tymorra's as that bad luck had led to the far greater good luck of meeting her harbour-boy. Worse still if she'd remained a thief in Neverwinter then rather than him meeting and helping her near Fort Locke he might have met her in Neverwinter as a member of the City Watch trying to arrest her. Neeshka was sure there would still have been a spark, but her harbour-boy was sufficiently duty bound he'd have tried to ignore it.

There was silence for a while as Blake finished securing his armour and Neeshka finished checking her supplies. Blake took a couple of deep breaths to feel the difference not having the bandages on made and then stood and picked up the pile of bandages. There was a flat rock in the stream just large enough to dump the bandages on so Blake lobbed them out onto it. The shallow flow of water over the upper surface of this rock was not enough to move the cloths much as the lower part of the pile began to become water logged. Before much water could soak up through the pile though Blake muttered an invocation and hit the bandages with a fireball. Water flashed to steam and cloth turned to ash, and then the flow of the stream resumed and washed the ashes away, the mark on the rock hidden by the water passing over it and the light of the brief fire mostly hidden by the bulk of the bridge.

Neeshka handed Blake one of her magic bags. "Here harbour-boy, emptied this one out into the others."

"Thank you my love," said Blake with gratitude. "At least when they stole my coin-pouch they didn't get much."

"Got some dried rations, some stuff for starting campfires, still got my coin-pouch and we did pick up a few things we can sell, even though you made me leave all those things in those chests alone."

"Just seemed taking things from the Imaskari ruins would enrage spirits a lot less than taking them from the barrow," Blake explained.

"I'm not arguing," Neeshka said, refraining from reminding him that she'd been right their restraint would make no difference. "I just hope we have enough gold. Merchants are inclined to cheat foreigners."

Blake nodded and unbuckled his belt of strength from around his waist and threw it to Neeshka. She caught it with a puzzled frown and then smiled as her expert fingers felt the seams that had been unpicked and restitched, and the extra weight of it. She rubbed her thumbs across the magic-imbued leather and grinned at Blake.

"I did teach you something!" Neeshka exclaimed in delight, throwing the belt back to Blake.

"Taught me a great many things," Blake replied, bucking it back on, "some of them kinkier than others, but aye. Got some coin sewn into my belt, some more in the lining of my boots, and some gold beaten thin and put between the layers of leather my padded shirt has over my kidneys."

"I'm not telling you where I hide my emergency gold," Neeshka giggled. "Something you'll have to find out for yourself."

"Ah, and that would be such a hardship," Blake replied with an exaggerated sigh. "But I suppose if we find a safe room with a lock I could endure slowly stripping you naked to examine every inch of your delectable body."

Neeshka stepped across to Blake and drew him down one-handed into a quick but passionate kiss before retreating again. "Not had any complaints about your endurance so far harbour-boy," she grinned.

Blake smiled. "Or a fairly safe room with a door that can be wedged shut…" he said, lowering his standards.

"Mulsantir had better have an Inn…"

Blake chuckled as he buckled back on his sword belt and slid the straps of his shield back over that forearm. "Certainly a more pleasant reason to want to get there soon than that we might be being hunted."

With that he led the way back out from beneath the bridge and up the shallow slope. Thoughts of what they could do once they reached Mulsantir did help in keeping up a fast pace, but Blake had to be careful to not let those thoughts distract him from his surroundings. At intervals they rested and shared a few dried rations, and a few kisses for luck and the road, but mostly they just padded on, milestone after milestone being left behind them.

Dawn's light brought some relief and let Neeshka's sharp eyes spot a crack in an outcropping of rock they were passing. This led to a small hidden cave that seemed far safer than the roadside shelters they had been ignoring. Once inside Blake and Neeshka looked at each other for a long moment, the temptation each felt evident to the other in their eyes. Blake kept well back from Neeshka, he knew that now they had some privacy he couldn't risk straining his control further by kissing her.

"I take first watch?" sighed Blake.

"Sure," Neeshka said, equally disappointed at having to be sensible.

Neeshka curled up in a corner for a couple of hours sleep while Blake tried to watch out for danger and concentrate on some scrolls and practice rather than dwell on all the pleasant ways he could wake her up. Then it was Blake's turn to nap and Neeshka's to watch and feel frustrated they were safe enough to be tempted but not safe enough to give in. Whether it was the lack of bedrolls or the excess of desire neither slept well and both were glad to leave the cave and get back on the road.