Chapter 17
The long climb up the tower seemed even longer with Okku's renewed grumbling about the stairs. As there was nothing they could do to help or solve his complaints, and the bear-god disdained sympathy, this was quite irritating. Even so Blake felt happier the further they went as the closer they got to the door they closer they got to a chance to finally make some progress. Whether they would need to use the portal past this door to 'advance the pawn' or whether there was enough information in the tower room to avoid that he neither knew nor cared. At worse it would at least be a different problem and hopefully one that would not involve manipulating souls or slaughtering teenagers.
Blake crossed the room and started slotting the soul housings into the depressions in the door. "This here, and this here, and here, and here," he muttered to himself as he placed each one.
With the last soul in place the door mechanism clicked into action and there was a clack of bolts retracting. Blake's relief they had found the right 'keys' was short lived though as suddenly the runes scribed across the door flared a deep and unsettling red and those bolts shot back into their sockets. It was obvious something was wrong and Blake wondered if his relief had been mistaken. Then he heard a scrape of a boot sole and an exasperated hiss from Neeshka behind him. Turning he decided the souls were likely correct and the problem was the magic responding to the five Red Wizards that had arrived from somewhere.
"More of them? Where were they all hiding?" Neeshka asked, her Rapier having appeared in her hand in a blur of motion. "I thought we cleared this place out."
"And for that as well as all else you will die," sneered a Red Wizard, glaring at them.
"Damn," Blake said eloquently, putting his hand on the hilt of his sword but not drawing it yet. "And if dreams were accurate then that is Araman."
"Wait," ordered the Red Wizard that Blake had identified, gesturing to his fellows to hold back.
"For what?" the other one asked, his sneer being mixed with puzzlement. "We have waited and done all you asked Araman."
"Is there anything left of you, inside that hollow shell?" Araman said, looking intensely at Blake and searching his face for something. "Do you know my face… the face of a brother who once ran laughing in your wake? My smiles have faded and your face has changed many times, but something of you must still remain."
"I know your face from the Slumbering Coven's Dreamscape," replied Blake, "and how that drew out the memories of the echo of Akachi that does exist within this curse. I do not know how much remains of him though, and that is one of the things I seek to discover."
The four other Red Wizards were exchanging looks of puzzlement as they realised there was more going on here than they had been told. They had heard of the Slumbering Coven and talk of their Dreamscape and curses and memories of echoes showed there had been more behind Araman's coup than a simple and normal lust for power. If Araman had a murkier hidden agenda than was normal even for Thay then should they support him? If these people had dealt with the Slumbering Coven and escaped where many Red Wizards had not then should they oppose them?
"Turn away," Araman continued. "Cast your eyes back to Rashemen… to home. Leave this place now and none will hinder you."
"What? With how many of us they have killed?" protested the other Red Wizard. "What lunacy is this, I see no reason to play more games…"
"Silence," Araman growled, turning briefly to the other man. Whatever his face showed it was enough to silence the quartet and cow them back into submission. He turned back to Blake and tried to assume a more friendly expression. "You have this chance to turn back from folly, to heed the warning I should have been strong enough to give before we marched through the Black Gate. Turn back or render meaningless all that you have suffered."
"You expect me to allow this curse to consume me?" asked Blake. "To continue preying on the spirits of Rashemen and leave Okku's oath to end it unfulfilled?"
Ignoring Okku's rumble of protest at that idea Araman continued. "There is no 'you' to be consumed, you are the hunger and what is being devoured is just the latest mask for it. A garment to be worn out and cast away. And my brother's suffering is the punishment of his betrayal of our god, not something to be casually reversed."
"You think I sacrificed my clan casually?" Okku roared, shaking the glass in the windows and driving all the Red Wizards but Araman back half a step.
"Leave," warned Araman, unintimidated and continuing to ignore the god-of-bears in his focus on Blake. "Beyond that door you may find truth, but you also risk sundering the planes and losing far more than you hope to gain."
"If truth will help me end this curse," Blake replied, "and end your brother's suffering as well as my own then I have no choice but to continue."
"Then I cannot protect you any further," Araman said sadly. "My fight lies elsewhere, and not with you."
With that Araman turned and walked away, surprising his former allies even more than he did Blake and the others. Having their leader who was, probably, also the most powerful among them leave now he had brought them face to face with the invaders was not good. That this desertion meant they didn't even have the slender edge in numbers of being five against four only made it worse. They exchanged more glances until the one that had been speaking spoke again.
"He is mad," said the Red Wizard, dismissing Araman. "Madder than Nefris ever was. Come… let us make an end to this before he changes his mind. And if he objects then perhaps we should make an end to him as well."
"These odds are becoming worse," a female Red Wizard muttered. "Atabe and Zeruza were stupid enough to take classes and as little use as Djafi and Inarus might have been they would at least have been some."
"You are pawns in a struggle you do not understand…" Blake began.
"Your conversation did suggest as much, but we understand enough to want you dead whatever you say," interrupted the Red Wizard, who seemed to be relishing his self-appointed role of spokesman and who added after a moment, "or whatever Araman wished."
"And with your evils the same is true in reverse," Blake replied. He switched to the language of magic and, before they could recover from their surprise that he was chanting an incantation rather than drawing his sword, cast Wail of the Banshee.
The spectral dust swirled in the middle of them and the great ghostly figure burst upwards, inhaled with back bowing force, and shrieked. The Red Wizard that had been worried staggered but did not fall as this wail rippled past her. She did not seem that pleased with the good fortune that had let her survive however when she saw that she was the only one that had and was now outnumbered four to one. Quickly she muttered a spell of Etherealness and Neeshka hissed with irritation as her Rapier passed a moment too late and harmlessly through the ghost that the Red Wizard had become.
"Hey, harbour-boy. You missed one," Neeshka chided Blake.
"Just hit her when she becomes tangible," sighed Blake, drawing his sword and moving to get between the Red Wizard and the stairs.
"And keep on trying," Gann smiled, flicking his spear out and through the Red Wizard, "even while she has not."
Even if the weapons could do her no harm the Red Wizard became increasingly frantic over the next few minutes. A blade or a spearhead coming towards her face still made her flinch and try as she might she could not get past these people and their bear. She might be able to pass through them in the same way their weapons were passing through her but she did not want to put that to the test. Finally though as the armoured man with the large shield stepped into her path again her reflexes betrayed her. She had a moment to feel the pain in her knuckles from where they had struck the man's shield in her attempt to punch and shove him aside as she would a servant. Then another moment to realise that contact meant she was solid again as the spell's workings had counted that as an attack. And then the pain in her knuckles faded into insignificance compared with that in her sides and belly.
Neeshka twisted her rapier, though the slenderness of the blade meant that made less difference to the wound, and withdrew it from where it had entered just below the Red Wizard's ribcage to pass across through her guts so the tip of it emerged slightly from the other side. The Red Wizard started to crumple and one hand go to the entry wound but then Gann stabbed her close to between the shoulder blades. Metal grated against the bone of her vertebrae and her back bowed in the opposite direction. These blows would likely have been fatal but, not taking any chances, Blake swept his sword in to clip her head from her shoulders.
As sharp as Blake's sword was, and as well placed and neat as the blow had been, it was still messier than the deaths the other three Red Wizards had suffered. The head bounced across the floor and the headless corpse fell to the carpet as Gann withdrew his spear. This carpet began to turn from purple to a darker red as the blood drained, mostly, from the body's neck into it and across the floor. They'd not found an exit off either staircase but Blake wondered if there was a room below this one and if it was fortunate these floorboards were so closely fitted. If there had been more gaps then something nasty might have been coming through that ceiling, but at least it would have been draining away from this room.
Dismissing that thought Blake skirted the puddle and went back across to the door and the runes that were no longer glowing red. In his concentration on the fight he'd not heard the bolts withdraw again but he found the door had unlocked. A blue carpet led down the centre of the narrow room beyond and to what, like those in the Room of Doors, appeared similar to an Illefarn song portal. Clouds were swirling within its frame to show it was active but there was no Golem keeper of this portal to question about where it led. There was also no inscription on the frame but Blake had not expected any.
Glancing at the bookcases against either sidewall Blake sighed. "I am glad this room remained sealed, and those have not been ransacked, but I could wish this Headmistress had not had quite so many secrets. Not quite as many books she decided to keep in this extra safety."
"I thought you liked books, harbour-boy," Neeshka teased. "And who knows, perhaps you'll find some erotic pamphlets."
"Those would be something this Nefris would want to keep out of public sight," agreed Gann. "And lust does not fade simply because one has become a matron."
"Hopefully Neeshka is right," Blake said, to their surprise. He then explained. "The pamphlets would pale with comparison with my beloved, but each book that is erotic tales is one less book that is a tome of magic I have to try to decipher for clues. We have spent too long in this place."
"Be careful," warned Gann, "I agree it will be good to leave here, but remember what you have said about the curse increasing your own need to be moving forward."
"Hrm," Okku growled, "but before we can move forward we need to move back a little. There is something to be done before we leave."
Blake looked blank for a few moments before his face changed with sudden realisation. "Oh, aye, the Golem to be destroyed."
Travelling down the other set of stairs and knowing that he would have to climb them again did much to worsen Okku's already ill temper but not as much as entering the workshop and seeing it was empty. A few open cabinets and drawers suggested the Golem had packed what it wanted and was trying to make an escape. Okku roared in rage and whirled and started off around and down the main hall.
"Blast," grumbled Blake as he jogged after the bear-god. "I wanted to be sure we no longer needed it, that the souls were correct to open that door, before we destroyed it."
"Then let us hope, little-one," Okku grumbled in return, "that the delay has not let it escape… as well as inflicting those stairs on me again."
"And inflicting your grousing on us, again," muttered Neeshka, quiet enough that Okku could, and did, pretend to not hear it.
"Aye, let us hope that," Blake replied to Okku, also pretending to not have heard Neeshka, "and that if it does escape that Thayans would not treat a delusional Golem with any kindness…"
"I thought you said it did have some fragment of soul to be released?" queried Gann.
"It does, which is a reason in itself to pursue it, to send it to whatever punishment it deserves for its experiments."
"Agreed," rumbled Okku, barely slowing as he reached the front doors of the Academy and disdained subtlety in opening them. Wood splintered as the screws holding those doors to their hinges were ripped free by the impact and Okku continued outside.
"The Thayans might not know that it is not delusional," Blake continued, stepping between the sagging and wide open doors. "But if they question it before they destroy it for their sport then it could be dangerous. Both as a witness to our having been here and because of the knowledge of soul butchery it possesses."
Dashing on through both sets of open gates in the walls and out onto the road Okku suddenly slowed and chuckled slightly as he looked at the sight ahead. "It appears your Tymorra goddess has favoured you, Tiefling."
"She does seem to be smiling on us now," Neeshka smiled. "Or maybe Beshaba, The Maid of Misfortune, 'favoured' the Golem."
"Another reason to prefer the spirits," commented Gann. "As capricious as they can be, no offence old-father-bear, I don't have the concern whether it's one 'goddess' extending her power or another withdrawing hers."
Blake was unsure if one of the pair of Wyverns was the one whose mind he'd dominated and which had flown off with a wounded Gnoll. That the two beasts were only hissing and snapping at each other as they fed on the Gnoll carcasses on the road suggested they might have a bond and so, perhaps, be a mated pair. Their tolerance of each other however did not apply to the Golem, who was looking understandably reluctant to approach them as they ate. The Golem glanced back towards the Academy and seeing Okku and the others cautiously advancing towards it tried again to get past the Wyverns.
One darted forward and took a bite at the Golem. This thing was not-food. It tasted like dirt. But it moved. So it perhaps threat to food. So thing needed to be bitten and driven away if hissing not work. Big bear also is getting closer. That real threat to food. Had roared at self over food before. Must drive off not-food thing before bear too close. Charge not-food thing and attack now.
The Golem staggered back a little as the Wyvern hissed and brandished its wings to try to look bigger and spat out a mouthful of clay. Another bite took another chunk out of the arm the Golem used to try to protect itself and then the Wyvern's tail struck. Although it could not poison a Golem the stinger still smashed a small crater out of it and the Golem staggered back a little more as the Wyvern gave another hiss and retreated. Distracted by this it was a surprise to the Golem when Okku raked a paw across its legs and shredded the back of its thighs and knees.
Watched carefully by the Wyverns as they continued to feed, chewing on exposed parts or rasping meat off bones or from inside the armour with their tongues, Okku began dismembering the Golem. The Wyverns gave a few hisses towards him but seemed more concerned with how much the other was eating and whether they had found a particularly succulent or large piece. Having seen where the little-one had found it in the Keeper of Doors, and having fought that other Clay Golem in the Academy, Okku knew where what he was looking for was. With a roar so their hissing did not go unanswered and to warn the Wyverns off seeking fresh prey Okku returned to the waiting mortals and dropped the spirit core of that Golem at Blake's feet.
"I know what you are thinking, little-one," Okku rumbled, seeing the look on Blake's face, "and no… I do not want to play fetch."
"I recall your opinion of dogs, my friend, and I'd not mistake you for one even if you were willing to bark and yelp and show your belly. Though I do admit the thought of 'fetch' did occur when something so ball-like was brought to me."
"Maybe so," Gann smiled, "but has it occurred to you the size of the tree you would need to throw as a suitable 'stick' for a god-of-bears?"
"Another good reason to not annoy Okku with that suggestion," agreed Blake as Okku grumbled in agreement.
Although the road surface was soft with the drifting dirt it was firm enough that Blake's sword could smash the spirit core rather than just hammer it into this dirt. The spirit-eater curse twitched slightly as it felt the soul fragment be freed and drift past uneaten but by now controlling it was near instinctive for Blake. He was concerned it was becoming too easy though. The hunger seemed to have little ability to think and plan rather than simply devour but as generations of farmers and animal handlers had learned even a relatively stupid beast could surprise you if you were too complacent.
After grinding the remains of the spirit core into the dirt under his boot-heel, and scuffing some dirt across to bury them, Blake led the way back to the Academy. He paused and frowned as he wondered whether it was worth asking Neeshka to climb up to one of those windows. They'd found and used the souls they'd needed and the door to the portal room was open. But even if they didn't need more souls much of this Academy seemed unexplored and surprises could be painful. However delay to find out what was behind those windows could be even more so.
Neeshka's eyes flicked to look at Blake, practice letting her make this a discreet check, and she was relieved as she saw where he was looking. She'd noticed a fresh mound of dirt in the dent in the ground to one side of the ramp and that was not something she wanted Blake to notice. One thing Neeshka had decided was that she was going to be as honest as possible with her harbour-boy. She might not tell him everything, but if he had noticed the mound and asked then she would have been truthful that it was a shallow burial rather than lie about this or who was buried there.
Blake moved between the sagging main doors and was struck by the contrast with when they had entered the academy before. Then a murmur of conversation and the thumping of the Golem duels had replaced the howl of the winds on the mountain but now all was silence. It was good that no alarm had been raised and things remained quiet but the contrast was a reminder of how much they had done within these walls. As they began to climb the stairs to the tower again Okku started complaining and Blake found it a little harder to tolerate this time. As ill suited as the stair treads were for the god-of-bears the thought that at least he had immortal stamina did occur and the feeling that it would be nice to sit down and have something to eat and drink was becoming more insistent.
The tower room seemed to have not changed and Blake felt some relief that the door remained open and unlocked. "I'll check through the bookcases, my sweet," he said to Neeshka, "can you check for hidden compartments?"
"Of course," Neeshka replied, moving across to the wall.
Gradually Blake worked his way through the books while Neeshka tapped each of the rectangles of plaster formed by the grid of beams. Gann watched for a few moments until she explained she was trying to find if any sounded hollow and so might have a space rather than solid wall behind it. Leaning his spear into the corner between a bookcase and the wall it was against Gann drew his dagger and started tapping with its pommel along the opposite wall to Neeshka. Meanwhile Okku watched and waited and snorted as their searching continued without them claiming any results from it.
"I hope this… activity… is fruitful, little-one," Okku murmured as Blake crossed to the second bookcase. "And I thought you eager to leave."
"Eager to leave when we know where we are leaving to," replied Blake, looking up from his reading. "I think that portal is how Nefris and Lienna might have spoken to Myrkul, but that would have been before Nefris used this to send her daughter to your barrow. As nice a place as that is, my friend, if we are taken there or to near there it would take us days to get back to Mulsantir and then back here."
"Myself, I would prefer to not give the Thayans that much chance to discover our deeds here," Gann smiled, continuing to tap, "though speaking to a dead god of the dead also does not appeal to me."
A few more minutes passed before Blake sighed and, consulting one of the books, made a few divinations on the portal. "Hrmm, this magic seems too complex for the portal to just lead to Okku's barrow."
"Is it that simple then to go from Thay to Rashemen?" Gann asked, interested.
"Not simple no," admitted Blake, leaving the book open and referring to a second and then a third. "If it were then I might have tested my, mostly theoretical, knowledge and made an attempt to go from Rashemen to the Sword Coast. But this portal is like…" Blake paused and considered an analogy. "Like juggling extra things and while blindfolded when neither is necessary." He ran his hand through his hair in frustration as he felt a headache start to build.
"Well," said Gann, trying to be reassuring, "you seem to be managing to interpret it."
"My harbour-boy is smart," Neeshka said with pride.
"Aye, smart enough to know I can't figure this out fast enough," admitted Blake, putting the three books away and snagging a few more off the shelves. "I think we are going to have to find out where this leads by going where it leads."
"Then let us enter, little-one," rumbled Okku. "This hesitation is beneath us."
"Nothing in the walls," Neeshka added.
Blake nodded to them both and with some trepidation stepped forward and through the frame and the clouds within. There was the usual sense of disorientation but even as his eyes focussed on his new surroundings a strange sensation of lightness did not fade. If going from a windy mountain to a silent academy had been a shock then Blake was not sure what to call this. Above them was an endless swirling sky of streaks of white against blue and with great battered looking rocks floating through it. The sky itself seemed the source of light as their armour and faces and Okku's colours were tinted with blue.
Glancing over his shoulder Blake was pleased to see there was a portal behind them, though less pleased to realise they were likely on one of those great rocks and that there was only one path to take. He started to cautiously advance, worried about ambush and because the swirling sky gave a sensation of movement and the continued sensation of lightness made his boots feel less securely planted. Blake did not want to be swirled off this rock to float like the other rocks through the eternity of this plane.
"The Astral Realm," Blake said, confirming what the others suspected.
"I have dreamt of this place," murmured Okku, even his great voice a little hushed, "so barren and cold."
"Those sound unpleasant dreams, my friend," Blake sympathised, "with how warm and alive your barrow was."
Okku rumbled in agreement as Neeshka pointed. "Careful," she warned, "undead."
"Do you mean the ones in armour," asked Gann, looking up and to the side, "or the incredibly huge skeleton looming above us and in whose pelvis the others stand?"
"Perhaps both… if that is who I think," Blake said, glancing behind them and noting the two arms jutting from this side of the great ribcage. If the skeleton was symmetrical that seemed a final confirmation why that portal had brought them here.
"How reassuring," replied Gann sardonically.
There were half-a-dozen Death Knights ahead of them. Five were in identical armour but the one who stepped forward to block their path was wearing armour that was more ornate and had an antique style to it. Six fleshless faces looked towards them and six pairs of red glows shifted within those skulls' eye sockets. They all had their swords in their hands and being tireless undead seemed happy to have them there rather than having a swordbelt and scabbard for them.
"Hold," hissed the Death Knight in the more ornate armour, speaking without breath or lips or tongue to shape that breath. "Art thou the one my master awaits?"
"That would depend on who your master is waiting for," Blake replied, trying to get more information but distracted a little by the decoration of the Death Knight's shoulder guards. On each was a foot with talons and though he was sure those had belonged to something formidable they still looked like giant chicken feet to him.
"My lord hath commanded me to grant passage to an 'old friend'," said the Death Knight, unaware of Blake's musing. "He described this being as one with an appetite that could not be sated. He hath seen this person in his dreams, but was uncertain how he would appear when he arrived."
"I have been cursed to be a spirit-eater, linked to the insatiable hunger of the Wall of the Faithless," Blake nodded, "and this curse has had many hosts. That would fit the description of hunger and differing appearances."
"Yes… I thought I recognised thee. It has been ages," agreed the Death Knight, sending a chill down Blake's spine as he realised this Undead likely meant literal rather than merely figurative ages. Its service had spanned long enough it remembered and recognised Akachi. "Proceed then, and know that only a pale shadow of my master remains, wafting freely between dream and wake. Thou wild need to approach his head and speakest in his ear if thou wish a waking audience."
The Death Knight moved back out of their way, his subordinates also moving to form a defensive half-circle behind him. They might have recognised Blake through his curse and might be allowing them passage to speak to their master, but their trust was not without its limits and those were narrow. Blake spared them a glance as he started climbing up the inside of the huge skeleton's spine. Each vertebrae was like a boulder the size of a horse's chest and it was like entering a macabre temple as they climbed high enough the ribs were curving up over them like a roof. The great skull was tilted so it was looking down its own body and through those ribs.
"Myrkul," Blake said in greeting.
Blue flames flared up in the eye sockets and a slight glow appeared in the mouth behind the remaining teeth as the dead god awoke. Three projectiles of magic energy started chasing each other in a vertical orbit around the great skull and Blake felt a malicious interest begin to scrutinise him. He looked back into the flames that were serving Myrkul as eyes now and waited for the dead god to speak.
"Ah…what is this?" creaked Myrkul. "Are you a dream? A fantasy? A recollection spawned of my own dead mind?" Before Blake could answer Myrkul continued. "Yes, you are that, but you are more too. I know you spirit-eater. You are an irony that walks. Two fates bound together, both severed and incomplete." The focus of the flame eyes seemed to shift. "And this one," Myrkul mocked, "he is bound for my Wall. As the Coven said, no?"
"If the Wall remains there when death comes for me," Gann blustered, his Dreamer's Eye a little dazzled by the power and malevolence, "I shall crack it from within."
"Braver and stronger have tried, spawn of hags. Despite your ego the universe does not bend to your whims," replied Myrkul, unimpressed, "and it is I who set the rules long ago." Somehow the skeleton managed to chuckle. "But you still do not believe in gods or faith, even as you look upon my corpse." Gann glared as Myrkul injected a note of mock sorrow into his voice. "I suppose to believe in ones such as me, to you that is a death of a different sort… and no less painful than dying within my Wall of the Faithless." Losing interest in the amusement Gann provided Myrkul's attention shifted back to Blake. "Let him ponder what awaits him, spirit-eater, and tell me what has brought you to this boneyard of gods."
"The Red Wizard Nefris was advised to seek your advice, and later had her servants place me in Okku's barrow to be infected with the curse that was once your punishment upon Akachi the Betrayer."
"Ah, spirit-eater," hissed Myrkul. "Your ignorance of the true nature of some things, as much as you have learned, amuses me."
"Then explain," Okku rumbled, not amused by that amusement and his claws flexing and digging into the bone.
"Quiet, little-god, lest I take your strength to replenish my own," sneered Myrkul. "You have become far less fun now you no longer slumber in ignorance."
"Then this is all your whim and your design?" Blake asked, while Okku growled behind him.
"The pleasure may be mine but the plan is not. Your ally and your enemy are one and the same spirit-eater, and I am neither. But your quest is an unmatched amusement, better fare than any mummer's play, and like any good piece of theatre it glorifies its author who gave all the actors their parts to play."
"I wonder who that author could be," Blake replied, "since this all seems too complex for a god more known for his vindictiveness than his intelligence."
"Ah, spirit-eater, your transparent attempt to anger me is unworthy of either of us," chuckled Myrkul. "If you think I will guard my words less then you are doomed to disappointment. But then you are doomed anyway. I made a place for Akachi in the Wall of the Faithless and when you became this curse's host your soul went to fill it. When this hunger finally consumes your body and mind then your soul will dissolve into the wall and you and your mockery will be no more."
Blake noted this and wondered if Myrkul would have given the details of that possible fate had he not wanted to return mockery with mockery. It seemed likely he would though as the dead god needed no excuse to taunt a mortal. "So death was no release for the previous hosts," Blake commented and accused, "they were condemned to oblivion because of you and because of Akachi. You punished the Betrayer, which was your right, but for his crimes also punish the hosts this curse takes and the spirits this curse consumes."
"I punish the Betrayer," Myrkul corrected him, a note of satisfaction entering his voice. "Do you think me merciful enough to let him die entirely and find rest? His thoughts, his memories, they were torn from his grasp one by one as the hunger of the Wall of the Faithless filled him and his mind slowly drained away. Then before he could reach his final peace I tore him free to forever seek what was taken from him. To suffer eternally as each of the masks he wears is devoured by his unending hunger and he loses them in turn."
"That would match your reputation for cruelty," replied Blake calmly, keeping his disgust mostly hidden. "But I do suspect there is more to this than just revenge."
"Oh, spirit-eater? Amuse me with your ideas," Myrkul taunted. "Amuse me with your Red Knight spawned ability to see plots where there are none just as you amuse me with your unwillingness to accept that I might, unlike you, trouble myself with taking a proper vengeance."
"Proper vengeance?" repeated Blake, raising his eyebrows so they vanished behind the brow of his helmet.
"You had the Luskan Torio executed in Neverwinter rather than have her brought to your keep to serve your whims as your slave," Myrkul began to list. "Slew the ranger Bishop and the wizard Sand swiftly and cleanly rather than letting them linger…"
Neeshka raised herself slightly onto her toes to bring her lips to Blake's helmet above his ear and whisper. "He's trying to divert you."
"True enough," Blake whispered back with a nod. Raising his voice again he addressed Myrkul. "I could have let them linger as you yet do Myrkul. And how do you speak when you are dead and gone?"
"A God does not easily die," boasted Myrkul. "He lives in the fears of him, which linger on… in the doubts that he is truly gone… and in the suffering of those whose lives he brought to grief." Seeing something in Blake's expression shift the dead god chuckled again. "Yes spirit-eater, even your suffering sustains me. Every anguish that you sow you unknowingly dedicate to me. Every mortal who cowers or cringes at your name, they are also cringing at mine. With every such pain the embers of my soul burn a little brighter than before."
"And hence, by your own words, there is more benefit to you than just the revenge. The curse feeds the suffering that keeps you alive, and while it endures it is fine insurance against your name being forgotten and, rather than haunting your own bones, your consciousness fading with people's fear of you."
"Ah, spirit-eater… what a sure wager you were," said Myrkul in delight. His plan had sustained him through these long centuries but until someone had recognised his cleverness there had been little amusement in it. "Of all the masks you are the first to know what you truly are. Two faces bound together. One betrayed my faith and the other never worshipped me at all. Together you are my truest disciple." Despite the impossibility the skull seemed to smile. "The irony is deep and worth of a God's devising. I hope that when the emptiness finally consumes you the next host is as amusing."
"And I hope you find it amusing that knowing what I am only gives more reason to end this curse."
"I do indeed, spirit-eater, as it will deepen your despair at your inevitable failure," Myrkul began to say.
"We will not fail," growled Okku.
"Oh, but you will," Myrkul mocked him, "whatever you think you know, whatever you do Akachi will live on to seek new hosts. His hunger was born of the Wall, born of emptiness. You cannot destroy that which is empty, and so the spirit-eater will live on. As will I."
"Then that is the flaw in your logic," replied Blake. "This curse is not empty, not entirely, as in Dreamscapes I have seen remnants of Akachi's mind and memories."
"Oh? You have seen delusions, perhaps," Myrkul scoffed. "Nothing remains of the Betrayer's mind or self so the choices before you both benefit me. Believe my words and turn back and the spirit-eater will persist to sustain me. Disbelieve me to go on and discover the truth of my words and you further glorify my name with that fresh assault on the City of Judgement. Either way I win."
"We shall see. Both whether I am deluded and whether I need to 'assault' the City of Judgement rather than take a less violent approach."
"You think the choice is yours?" Myrkul asked with another breathless chuckle. "That Kelemvor will speak to you rather than destroy you as an abomination? That you are not caught up in events beyond your control?" The dead god paused as his amusement overcame his voice. "Ah, spirit-eater, even I could not hope that you would bring so much amusement to this cold realm. Once you open that Gate your army will find you and if you do not lead them as they wish, as Akachi would have wished, they will strike you down. But first you must open the Gate. Do you have the key I wonder?"
"You know I do not, that the Sword of Gith and the shard within me were stolen so I was left bleeding and with just a dagger."
"She who holds it is near," Myrkul replied, the flames in his eye sockets seeming to unfocus as his attention shifted to memories rather than the mortals standing within his bare ribcage. "Many times she has visited me, sometimes threatening and sometimes begging for my aid." With another impossible smile Myrkul looked back down at Blake and the others. "Only two portals provide passage from this drifting cairn of mine. One brought you here and the other will lead you to the sanctum where the Blade and your 'ally' await. Go quickly, spirit-eater, if you would look upon her face. You will not be her only visitor today."
"Araman," sighed Blake, realising his relief the door into the portal room was still open should have been mixed with concern. "He took advantage while we were dealing with that Golem."
"My hound is clever is he not? You opened the door as he hoped and now he follows your ally to her wretched den. You saw him in your dream of the Gate and saw him for the priest he once was, who served me at his brother's side and turned against me at his brother's whim. But in his brother's defeat he repented and I showed him mercy and set him his task."
"And I am sure he repented of his own free will," commented Blake sarcastically. "That you did not 'encourage' this in the slightest."
"Ah, spirit-eater, perhaps your delusions are not utterly complete and some tiny part of Akachi does linger," Myrkul chuckled. "Or perhaps your insight comes from your study of the story. But you know me as Akachi once did. Yes, I ensured Araman would not betray me again. I set a geas upon him to bind him to his task and his soul still remains imprisoned and hostage until he succeeds."
"Very well," growled Blake. "I care little whether your servant or the Red Woman is victorious. The latter enmeshed me in her plan and the former has made it harder to escape this. Either may provide me answers as long as one of them lives, and either is as useful as the other."
"Your choice is stark, spirit-eater," Myrkul said, trying to mock Blake again before he left. "Surrender your soul and the souls of all who will come after you to the hunger, or find the Blade and open the Gate."
"I may open the Gate, but you will not benefit from it," replied Blake, looking up at the great skull and feeling how the curse was writing within him. It felt as if Neeshka's warning and Gann's concern had both been correct and that this opened a possibility. "You have lingered and been sustained by this curse for too long so now I shall use it to grant you the rest that you deserve."
"It is not your right or your power to dispense judgement spirit-eater," Myrkul hissed, disdain for the threat mixed with a betraying tinge of fear. "The hunger of the Wall holds no sway over Gods and such judgement is also our purview alone."
"You might be right," admitted Blake, concentrating and reaching down inside himself. "It could be the spirit of a God haunting his body cannot be granted the same service as undead or the spirits of those haunting your furnace. But let us test it and find out if Ao the Overgod shares your opinion."
Behind Blake the thing began to form and its tentacles slowly wave as it realised that it was going to be allowed to feed. Blake smiled slightly as he felt the desire for revenge join the eagerness to take the energy that anchored this spirit and prevented it being swept away to the afterlife. He had to fight that desire and force the curse to only take that anchoring energy rather than trying to devour the rest of the spirit. But that the curse was more eager to devour this spirit in particular was further evidence that it did possess some memories and feelings rather than being as empty as Myrkul claimed. Blake focused on the skull and the patterns of energy around it and began to feel the connections forming through which some of that energy could flow.
Myrkul gasped despite his lack of lungs as he also felt these connections being made. "A final irony… even in this."
Concentrating Blake checked the tentacles of the curse were firmly wrapped around the bonds between Myrkul and his corpse and then 'pulled'. Unlike other more natural tentacles those of the curse did not just grip they also drained and as the bonds stretched and broke and 'bled' they soaked up this energy. The flames in the sockets guttered and died, the glow behind the teeth faded, and the orbiting magic projectiles faded into nothing but an after-image. With a final triumphant writhe the tentacles curled back as the visible manifestation of the curse also withdrew back into Blake's body.
"And so another god of your 'civilised' lands lies dead and silent," Gann sneered with satisfaction at the skull.
"Oblivion or rest was too kind a punishment for this monster and his crimes," complained Okku, "but good riddance nonetheless. We should slay the rest of his followers and leave this place."
"Especially since they seek to slay us," Gann exclaimed, swinging his spear into guard position as he glanced back down Myrkul's spine.
The Death Knights had noticed the activity and the sudden dimming of the energies around their master and God. They had organised themselves with a chilling silence and begun moving up Myrkul's spine towards Blake and the others. Fortunately this was not an easy climb in full armour and despite how huge the dead god's skeleton was they still had to advance in single file. Blake was pleased that this prevented the undead from using their slight advantage in numbers, but less pleased that though Okku had managed to turn it would be hard to help him.
Okku was not as worried about this as Blake, he was quite happy to destroy each of those undead in turn as they came within his reach. If the little ones wished to help then they could but the bear-god scarcely felt that was needed. He lunged and caught the foremost Death Knight around the waist with his great teeth. Spirit muscles flexed in Okku's shoulders and neck as he started shaking the armoured figure. A glancing blow from its boot knocked the one that had been just behind it back slightly. Despite the squeal of metal from the Death Knight's armour it started twisting about in Okku's grip and trying to hack and stab at him. The undead felt no real pain and had no internal organs to be crushed or breath to be constrained.
It could not put much power into its blows but it was managing to cut Okku and the edges of these cuts were dimming slightly. Like the Death Knights they had fought on their way out from killing the Slumbering Coven this one had a sword that was sharp and had life draining properties. Okku saw no need to tolerate the annoyance of these minor wounds and relaxed the muscles of his jaw to release the Death Knight and fling it away down the spine. There was a distinct clang it landed on the one that had recovered from being knocked back and had been trying to find an opening to attack Okku.
Blake could see the tooth marks and how far Okku's jaws had crumpled in the thick breast and back plates as that Death Knight bounced off one way. It fell a good twelve feet to land across one of Myrkul's ribs, looking to have broken its back, before sliding off and falling a few feet more. The other one was even less fortunate as the ground had not mounded up to the same extent on the other side. There was twice the drop and it only glanced a rib on its way past to land on its skull. It was lying still so Blake looked back at the one with crumpled armour and saw that although its legs were not working it was dragging itself down the slope beneath Myrkul's ribs to try to circle back to the fight.
Meanwhile the removal of those two more normal Death Knights had brought Okku and the one in the more ornate armour face to face. The glow in that Death Knight's eye sockets flared a little as it struck and Okku roared in pain with a more serious wound to his shoulder. His form was still rapidly knitting back together but the power and speed of the blow had shown why this Death Knight was worthy of his fancier garb and the effects that he might also have a better sword to better use. Okku roared again as he attempted to smash his smaller foe under his claws and the Death Knight struck back and opened a cut on that foreleg. Blake hesitated over how he could help the bear-god.
"Bows?" Neeshka asked.
"Aye, and aim for the head," nodded Blake. "Shatter the skull and that should destroy them."
With fluid grace Neeshka sheathed her rapier and reached into her magically capacious bag. A quiver of arrows that looked too large for the bag came out and was hooked to her belt and then a shortbow that was definitely too long followed. Slender but strong arms flexed as Neeshka deftly strung the bow and then she set an arrow to this string and her shoulders and back also flexed as she drew and released. The arrow skittered off the helmet of one of the more normally armoured Death Knights and left a bright fresh scratch on it.
Gann watched this with interest, especially as Neeshka's chest rose and fell with the flexing and releasing. "I don't think I could drive my spear into this god-bone to free my hands, and I am unsure what gifts of the spirits might affect these."
"Aye," sighed Blake, "and if I drop my shield it will likely slide and I could lose it."
"I need little help, little-one," Okku rumbled, snarling as the ornately clad Death Knight evaded another paw sweep, "but some might speed this if you and the Hagspawn can stop talking and start acting."
Blake looked and muttered to himself. "No flesh to burn or freeze, or convulse and burn with electricity… acid might corrode the armour but… ah."
With a faint smile Blake clambered a little way back up towards the skull to get higher and a marginally better line of sight. He recited an incantation and drew some arcane power to himself. Even before meeting Qara he'd been inclined to prepare a variety of spells but seeing the sorceress frustrated when they fought something immune to fire had underlined the wisdom of this. The air shimmered in front of Blake and then that sphere flew away from him and into the second Death Knight of the line of three behind their leader so its armour rang with the pure sound of a Cacophonic Burst.
Against a living opponent much of that energy would have been spent itself in squeezing and stretching flesh. Rupturing blood vessels and bursting organs with the sudden changes of pressure and causing them to cough blood as the delicate structures of the lungs were torn. The Death Knight had none of these problems but what it did have was more serious. It had long been noted that old dead bones had lost something as they were more brittle and did not work as well as fresh ones when boiled for glue. Whatever it was the Death Knight felt the lack as the vibrations shattered and cracked its less elastic bones.
It staggered and fell, nearly landing on the one that was still crawling with determination, and bounced and clattered down the slope to near the portal from Thay. The two either side of it in the line were less affected by the spreading noise and though staggered managed to keep their feet. Even less affected was the one in the ornate armour, but even it was slowed for a moment as small bones broke beneath its armour.
"Thank you, little-one," Okku rumbled, seeing his chance.
The bear-god lunged and this time his huge paw made contact. Metal bent and tore and the Death Knight in the ornate armour flew back and to its right as the force of the blow lifted it off its feet. It bounced off one of the lower ribs where it curled up and then off the edge of the pelvis and down to the ground. Although it was still moving and still had hold of its sword Okku was pleased enough as he sprang further down the slope of Myrkul's spine.
Hurriedly the next Death Knight tried to bring its sword in line despite having been staggered and the surprise of the sudden absence of its leader. It managed to fend off Okku but even the small amount of the impact that was transmitted up its sword and arms was enough to make its boots slip slightly. The loss of the Death Knight behind it proved a small advantage for it as it had that gap to recover in rather than stepping back into that comrade. Okku prowled forward a little to press the attack while Neeshka managed to get a clear line and neatly put an arrow into the rearmost Death Knight's skull. Her second arrow was less fortunate but her third again entered the open face of that helmet.
As that was the same style as his own Blake wondered briefly if he would be better off with a more enclosed helmet even if, unlike undead, he did need to worry about how that could restrict his breathing and the flow of cooling air around his face. It could get very sweaty and stuffy inside a full-face helmet though and unless you had a prominent 'beak' on it an arrow might still penetrate.
"That spell of yours seemed to work," Gann commented, breaking into Blake's thoughts. "But these fellows seem determined on their revenge."
Blake nodded as he watched the Death Knight with the crushed armour slide down the slope the other had tumbled down. Its continued dragging of itself onwards seemed more a convenience in not having to go as far after it than a threat. The other two though could be more of a problem. Neither of them were moving right after being struck with a Cacophonic Burst or a bear-god paw but they had regained their feet and were limping with dragging strides around towards Myrkul's pelvis and the route back up the spine.
"Determined, yes," Blake replied, "but I would match Okku's determination against them any day."
"And well you should little-one," growled Okku.
With that he brought both forepaws together in a bear-clap that nearly squashed the Death Knight's helmet and skull flat between them. Okku slid slightly as all his weight came onto his rear paws, but his spirit-sharp-claws and the sense of balance that had served him well during the battle on the ice also served him well here to give him grip and prevent him toppling. As the now almost headless Death Knight slumped off the spine and Okku thumped back down onto all fours Neeshka loosed another arrow past them. This struck home and as the cracks spread from this extra hole in its skull the rearmost Death Knight fell backwards and rolled and clattered down the spine, its helmet coming off as the skull broke apart within it.
Gann moved down and made a quick appeal to the spirits to aid Okku. As the few wounds the bear-god had suffered shimmered and closed Gann smiled. "Do you wish to continue taking so much of the battle, old father bear, or may we assist rather than simply being left in awe at what we have seen?"
"I would not want to deprive you of a chance to exercise the sharpness of your spear," Okku rumbled, "as well as the sharpness of your tongue."
Okku moved down to where the rock and soil had mounded up within the bowl of the pelvis and Gann followed him. Blake hesitated and then very carefully moved down past Neeshka. He did not want to fall off this spine and even less did he want to knock her off but there seemed reasons worth the risk.
"Good work with your bow, darling," Blake said as he passed her.
Neeshka rolled her eyes slightly at the comment. She knew her harbour-boy genuinely meant it but she also knew he hoped that praising her bow work would influence her to continue using it. To stay 'safe' up here on Myrkul's spine where he could now stay between her and the Death Knights. She unstrung her bow and slipped it, its bowstring, and the quiver of arrows back into her magic bag before sure-footedly moving down to join the line of Okku, Blake, and Gann. Ahead of them the Death Knight in the ornate armour paused where the earth mounded up into a ramp into the pelvis. Slowly the other one joined it with a scraping from one foot as it semi-hopped along.
"Thou shalt pay for what thou hast done," the Death Knight in ornate armour vowed.
That threat would have been more intimidating before they had destroyed half of them, crippled another, and seriously wounded the remaining two. But Blake was still concerned as these Death Knights were not the only servants of Myrkul they might have to face. There was still Araman and whatever forces he had taken with him in his pursuit of the Red Woman and they would be just as eager to avenge their God. The Death Knights shambled forward, moving more like Zombies, and both seemed intent to strike at Blake at least once before they were defeated.
Blake was confident that he could defeat them. He was unwounded and had the extra agility and speed of his spells while they could barely walk with the damage their brittle undead bones had suffered. But Blake had little to prove his friends and rather than being impressed by his strength and swooning over it Neeshka would be more likely to call him an idiot for taking macho risks. It seemed better to use their focus on him as a way to divert them into a mistake so he jumped forward as if he was eager for battle but, even as the one in the ornate armour started to swing his sword in, Blake was reversing direction. His knee gave a twinge at the sudden shift, but nothing serious as he angled his shield to take the edge of the ornate Death Knight's sword across the flat of it and on the metal ridge.
The other Death Knight brought his sword in and Blake twisted to avoid the two-handed thrust. He was not completely successful and, though the edge of the blade only barely scraped his breastplate, he felt a line of ice drawn across his chest where it drained him. The Death Knight had just enough time to realise it had not done more than brush Blake before Okku's teeth closed on its out-thrust left arm as the bear-god snapped to that side of him.
Satisfied with the grip he had Okku twisted back and up, tearing the Death Knight's left hand off the hilt of its sword and making the undead swing in Okku's grip. It was more this motion than any intent on the undead's part that brought its right hand and the sword still in it around and into Okku's flank. The edge of the blade slapped along the bear-god's side and didn't seem to do more than cut a few strands of spirit-fur. Before the Death Knight could bring its sword back to try to inflict a deeper wound Okku whipped his head around to continue the curve of the swing. Rather than up and away the left arm was now being brought back towards the Death Knight and down. With its injured leg and against the strength of a god-of-bears it could not resist and was twisted heels over head as if it was being thrown by some monk.
Ignoring the feeling in his chest Blake moved back onto the attack against the ornately armoured Death Knight. They both had approximately the same size sword and using it one handed did slow Blake a little despite his spells and his belt of strength. However not as much as the Death Knight had been slowed by having what looked like most of the ribs on one side smashed by a god of bears. Even if you were nothing but a skeleton in armour you did need some intact bones for others to brace against and allow the magic of undeath to move you.
Blake's sword clinked against the Death Knight's as he stabbed and the Death Knight parried and the blades glanced off each other. Neither of them wanted to smash their weapons together like actors so it was a rather undramatic noise. Blake pivoted and thrust forward with his shield to try to bash the ridge of it into the Death Knight and stagger it but didn't quite have the reach to connect. The Death Knight struck back and Blake's shield boomed as he absorbed the blow on it. Losing patience with this near stalemate Neeshka hopped up onto what seemed the sheer bank to Blake's left. Some dirt dribbled down but she gracefully kept her balance and started stabbing down with her Rapier at the Death Knight from her raised position. It jerked its helmet and upper body away and swept its sword to its right and up to try to strike back at Neeshka's vulnerable legs.
Okku released the Death Knight's arm and let it fall flat onto its back. A couple of quick steps brought Gann forward and his spear darted out to stab this undead in the neck and try to pop the vertebrae apart. Not satisfied with this attempt at precision Okku reared up and then slammed both paws down and onto the Death Knight's chest to crush its breastplate and drive it down a few inches into the dirt.
As the Death Knight with the ornate armour shifted position Blake struck at it. He was a little out of practice with fighting heavily armoured opponents but he had noticed that this one, unlike his more plainly armoured fellows, had no knee-guard. So there was a small gap between the plates around its thigh and the top of its boots. Blake was not sure if he would have noticed this if he hadn't been careful to avoid that vulnerability on both his armour and the suit he'd had made for Neeshka. But noticed it he had so he struck at the side of the Death Knight's knee. This was not as effective as he'd hoped as the chainmail over the joint was tough to cut through and there were no tendons to sever beneath it. The impact did make the Death Knight start to topple sideways though and this fall became more rapid and more complete when Neeshka kicked her boot heel down into the side of its helmet.
As that Death Knight toppled the other was still trying to move despite how its spine had been pulverised by Okku. The weight of its sword and armour resisted its attempt to bring its blade up and across its crushed torso to strike at them. Okku grumbled and slammed one paw down again and onto its helmet, almost flattening it and shattering the skull as he had the other's. With satisfaction Okku noted the success of this and the lack of movement and then padded off and around the corner towards the portal from Thay.
The combination of putting her weight on one foot and the impact of her other boot heel on the helmet had caused Neeshka to start to slide. She had to grab at the slope with her left hand and also drive the fork-tines on her shield into it a little to hold on and stop this. For a brief moment she was vulnerable, but not as vulnerable as the Death Knight in the ornate armour was as it had fallen onto its left knee and elbow and its right hand. Before it could push itself up to try to rise or shift position to free its sword hand and be able to swing from its crouch Blake had brought his sword down. This was not as tidy a blow as Blake would have preferred as the helmet had a metal plate protecting the back of the neck and his sword clipped the edge of this. Even so, and with this and the toughness of the chainmail preventing him from managing to decapitate, it he managed to cut far enough through to end that Death Knight's unlife.
There was a snarl and a crunch from just out of view of the three mortals that they realised was Okku finishing off the crawling Death Knight. The look of satisfaction on the bear-god's face as he padded back into sight would have been enough clue even without the other sounds. They looked at each other as the three mortals recovered their breath and the last few scratches on Okku faded.
"Did you really just eat a God?" Neeshka finally asked, giving Blake a strange look as the lack of fighting gave her the leisure to consider events.
"I am not sure," admitted Blake, scabbarding his sword and holding something out. "I attempted to send Myrkul into death and to rest, gaining this unpleasant looking essence…"
"Oh yuck," Neeshka interrupted, "it looks like it is constantly bleeding."
"But as much as it seems to have worked I have my doubts," continued Blake. "You recall the Wood Man?"
"That he said you could devour him a hundred times," Gann asked, "and he would persist as long as the forest endured?"
"Aye," Blake nodded, impressed that Gann had understood immediately. "If the energy of the Ashenwood could restore the Wood Man then I do wonder if Myrkul could reform the links between his spirit and his corpse."
"Maybe not," mused Gann, "but maybe so, and more chance if we do not destroy the curse and how it feeds the suffering associated with his name."
"In any case, I think Myrkul's essence is best, well…" Blake suddenly took a step to put his weight behind it and threw the essence off into the eternity of the Astral Realm. "Best far away from us."
"Was that wise?" asked Gann. "What if someone finds it?"
"I'd rather they found it instead of killing me to take it."
"A point," admitted Gann. "I am not sure how good a point, but a definite point."
"We have learned that some things are too dangerous to store," Okku rumbled sadly, thinking of the fate of his clan. "That they can corrupt things around them."
"Aye, my friend, and I don't think I could have safely destroyed that essence. But let us be about destroying what we can."
"First things first, harbour-boy," Neeshka chided him. She moved to the mostly decapitated Death Knight in ornate armour. "Blast," she said, picking up its sword and looking at it, "this one's magic has gone away."
"And not enough time to strip their armour either," warned Blake.
"Hah," Neeshka scoffed, "like there ever is, though we might have been able to get a full set from combining the undamaged bits."
Neeshka started gathering the swords and, with the lack of scabbards, wrapping them in their former owners' cloaks. The ornate Death Knight's helmet might have been clipped by Blake's sword but the scrollwork on it was pretty enough for it to meet Neeshka's standards as well. Blake smiled as he heard some happy humming from his beloved as she gathered with twitching tail.
"Even if this a temporary inconvenience for Myrkul," Gann commented, seeing Okku was less enraptured by the delay to make Neeshka happy, "this is at least a more epic deed, one with more splendour for old-father-bear and for the bards to sing of."
"I might tell Sheva Whitefeather," nodded Blake, turning away from the sight of his sweetheart at work, "but otherwise I think I would prefer it kept quiet. This is an implausible enough deed that talking of would make us sound like braggarts."
"You would have a god-of-bears to vouch for you," Okku rumbled, "and few make the mistake of doubting my word. More than once."
"There is also the concern of any remaining followers of Myrkul," continued Blake, "which was another reason to have disposed of the evidence of the essence."
"And your deeds here are not the only thing you want to keep quiet," Gann added quietly.
"True," admitted Blake, lowering his voice to say to Gann, "and some already condemn and gossip about my relationship with Neeshka so the deal she struck becoming known would hurt her with the extra fuel for this." Gann nodded and Blake raised his voice back towards a more normal level. "At least the dealing with Devils was part of my deeds in Thay, and so part of a larger thing I also want to keep quiet rather than publicly embarrass Neverwinter."
"Does that matter little-one?" Okku grumbled. "Embarrassment compared with the crimes they had committed?"
"I still intend to try to level that Academy," smiled Blake. "I would simply prefer to do so without having the Thayans harass Lord Nasher about it."
"Ah, yes," Gann commented, "I do recall you mentioning his willingness to sacrifice people for political advantage."
"That is, perhaps, making it sound too cynical," admitted Blake. "Remaining ruler of Neverwinter is very important to him but so is the good of the city. Conflict with Thay would be worse for Neverwinter than the loss of one minor noble to his service."
"'Minor Noble'," Neeshka scoffed as she returned. "I've told you harbour-boy, going to be a legend when the bards start singing about the King of Shadows. And believe me I know how much wealth and power some of the 'Senior Nobility' actually have. Or rather how little."
"A list of targets?" asked Gann, with a teasing smile. "Or just a fascination with the great and the good and the degree to which they fit that description?"
"Both," Neeshka winked. "And the ones that don't fit the description get to be on the list."
"Better press on and see who survives in that sanctum," Blake said, unimpressed with his own deeds despite Neeshka's comments.