Chapter 18
Matching action to words Blake led the way to the portal onwards. As he stepped into the frameless oval of swirling colour he hoped that Myrkul would have found more entertainment in seeing them confront his hound Araman and the Red Woman than he would in seeing them taken to their deaths. If you had the same cruel sense of humour as Myrkul had it would be rather amusing to end their efforts so abruptly and unexpectedly. To Blake's relief as the world reformed he saw it was not taking an immediately fatal shape. However the three men standing near a mould covered door might try to make up for that lack in these surroundings.
After the dead clean air of the Astral Plane it was rather a shock to be breathing air so alive with the smell of life and rot. The stone walls around them were green and the floor underneath their feet slippery with moss. Of more immediate importance though were the symbols of Myrkul on the trio ahead and that they had noticed the lack of those on Blake and the others. The man in full armour stepped forward to place his metal and his tower shield in harm's way while the robed man with shield and sickle moved to remain just behind him and protect his flank.
Behind their protection the third Myrkullite seemed to tense and then he thrust out his arm and Eldritch energy burst from his hand and across the room. Even with how rarely he had fought warlocks this still surprised Blake more than it should have. His armour glowed and dissipated some of the blast but pain spread across his chest and the blast spread out to strike the others. This did not seem to injure Okku much but it did anger him and the bear-god charged, stone becoming visible where his great paws tore at the moss to propel him.
Blake glanced to Neeshka who smiled back to show she was fine even though the warlock's blast had overcome her shield's magic. The armoured man muttered something and Blake sighed as he recognised it as a spell of Bull's Strength. That was good as it showed that foe did not have a belt of strength strong enough to make that spell useless. However it also showed that he was either a wizard, like Blake, who had learned to cast spells without armour interfering or that he was a cleric and there was still something responding to his prayers.
The robed man with a shield began moving forward to his right. He looked to be trying to outflank Okku so Blake, followed closely by his attentive Tiefling, began advancing and moving left to intercept him. The apparent warlock gestured again and another Eldritch Blast streaked out and into Blake. He staggered as his armour glowed once more and the man with the shield took advantage of this to mutter an incantation of his own. Unfortunately for him Neeshka had not been staggered and, despite her urge to remain at Blake's side to protect him while he was off balance, she had continued ahead.
Her rapier darted out and the robed man barely parried it with his sickle. His comrade didn't even attempt to meet Okku's charge as that would have been foolish even with the extra strength he'd given himself. Instead he dodged to his left and as Okku turned to follow the warlock punched at his shoulder with impressive speed. The eldritch energy he'd summoned to surround his fist discharged and added extra power to the blow. The Myrkullite in full armour swung his flail in to hit Okku in the other shoulder and managed to step back and get his shield in the way before Okku could recover from the attacks.
"Blast," Blake grumbled, trying to catch up with Neeshka, "that sounded like Shield of Faith… and as the name suggests that's a prayer."
Gann stabbed at the warlock but found to his frustration that even with the extra speed of Blake's persistent magic this strike was a hair too slow. "So," he breathed as he tried again, "something still exists to answer that prayer?"
"Was hoping," Blake commented tersely, as he reached Neeshka's side, "that fellow," he nodded at the armoured man, "was using the arcane. Not divine."
With that Blake swept his sword down at his target. The robed man hurriedly interposed his shield but underestimated the power of Blake's blow. The sword and the strength behind it were both well enhanced with magic and a chunk of wood spun away to the floor as it was lopped off the shield. The man staggered from the impact and then from recoiling away from Neeshka as she raked the tip of her rapier across his gut. She cursed as she felt her blade skipping across metal rather than slicing into flesh.
"He's got armour under there harbour-boy," Neeshka reported.
"Thankfully I doubt the same is true over here," added Gann, flicking his spear out again. The other robed man twisted aside. "Unfortunately this fellow is fast enough I've not managed to confirm that… yet."
"Out of the way, Hagspawn," Okku rumbled.
As Gann obediently moved back the armoured man struck again at Okku with his flail. This would have broken the ribs of a bear-of-flesh and even Okku's spirit form distorted. He ignored this though and just made himself as wide as possible to try to trap the annoyingly fast Myrkullite in the corner. Unfortunately that man was annoyingly fast and managed to slip past the bear-god's attempt to slap him against the door. Okku continued to turn in pursuit and Gann moved back to take position on Okku's left as their fight shifted that quarter turn.
Blake and Neeshka continued to press the third man back. His attempts to parry Blake's blows with his shield were more cautious now it was already damaged and he'd learned that even when intact it had not been strong enough to be careless with. Blake had shifted tactics and rather than try to repeat his earlier success and batter through the man's defences, trusting his armour to deflect any return blows, was using quicker lighter blows. As treacle-slow as these were compared with his beloved's they were still fast enough to keep the man busy while Neeshka tried to cut at whatever parts of him she thought unarmoured.
The three Myrkullites were now between the two pairs and close enough to be fighting back to back. Gann stabbed at the man in armour, who had to turn to parry this spear thrust with his flail. He still kept his shield towards Okku but this did not matter to the bear-god. A huge right forepaw smashed into the shield and drove it back against the armoured man's body, staggering him despite his spell or prayer of Bull's Strength. Gann swung his spear back from where it had been knocked aside by the parry and brought the edge of the spearhead across the man's neck. Despite Gann's haste this was quite a precise blow and though his chainmail was not pierced the man started coughing and choking.
Gann did not look pleased as he knew a thrust would have bitten deeper. "Hmm," he commented, "at least these breathe…" With an effort the armoured man managed to suppress his coughing long enough to mutter some words. "And breathe more easily," Gann continued, seeing the effect, "since there is yet more answer to their prayers."
The warlock sent a flurry of blows at Okku who shrugged them off like rain despite the eldritch energy again supplementing some. Okku snapped at him like a dog at a fly but the robed man managed to dodge and landed a punch on Okku's nose as the bear-god thrust it forward. A deep ripping snarl erupted from low down in Okku's chest as his anger burned even higher in frustration and at this insolence. But he was not some common beast to react unthinkingly. He was a god-of-bears and he would use the gift of intelligence he had been granted to control and focus his anger.
Blake continued with his quick but obvious strikes, each of which the robed man had to honour as even a light blow from a sword the size of Blake's could inflict serious wounds. The Myrkullite was managing to parry against these and Neeshka's flashing rapier but gradually his mistakes were building as each hurried move made the next more difficult and more likely to have to be hurried. Finally he was a hair too slow in trying to deflect one of Blake's blows and too much of the impact was transmitted into his arm. Trying to recover from that he did even worse at parrying Neeshka's rapier strike and to her satisfaction, and his pain, she found his forearm was not armoured. The sickle dropped from his fingers as the slender blade sliced through muscle and tendon and its magic discharged to further numb his grasp.
The warlock heard the clang of the sickle blade striking the floor and turned to aid his comrade. Okku saw a chance and struck but was not quite fast enough. The speed with which the warlock was moving thanks to what appeared to be monk training was enough that the bear-god only just brushed him. Robes and the flesh beneath tore in shallow but bloody cuts to confirm such speed came at the cost of armour. Moving far slower the Myrkullite in full-plate sidestepped rather late to put himself and his shield, with its visible claw marks, between the warlock and Okku.
Taking advantage of this belated protection the warlock tensed and thrust his hand out to release an Eldritch Blast at Neeshka. Even as it streaked towards her she reacted and brought her small shield into its path. Unfortunately this confirmed her shield's magic could not help against a warlock of that power. Neeshka exclaimed in pain as she staggered back a little, her shield smoking a little as its wood and metal took the brunt of the attack.
With an effort Blake ignored this and continued his own attack. He swept his sword down from his right into where the robed man's neck joined his shoulder. There was some resistance from the scale-mail beneath his robes and from his bones as the blade cut diagonally down into his chest but not enough to prevent it cutting deep enough to be a fatal blow. There was enough drag though that for a moment Blake's sword was stuck and in that moment the warlock moved. Having pivoted into the blow Blake's shield was the other side of his body and with his sword embedded in the new corpse he could not move much.
Blake leaned away from the punch as he twisted and tugged at his sword and shrugged his right shoulder upwards. The vertical fin on his armour pauldron already protected his neck and head against blows coming in from the side. Raising his shoulder and ducking his head helped this so the punch glanced off the upper curve of the pauldron into the fin rather than striking Blake in the side of the helmet. It was still a powerful blow and despite the padding beneath his armour plates and chainmail Blake felt a twinge run down his arm from his shoulder and was knocked a little off balance as his sword came free.
Meanwhile Gann had been stabbing at the slower target of the armoured man. To his frustration he had found that slower did not mean slow as the man's flail blurred about deflecting the spear strikes. Okku decided to be less subtle and smashed his right paw into the man's shield again. This time the man managed to brace himself so he was not staggered and his shield was not driven back into him. That was not as good an idea as he had hoped though as resisting the blow better put more strain on his shield and it cracked under this, a split spreading through the laminated layers from the bottom of the shield almost to the central boss.
Ignoring the last wisps of smoke from her shield and hoping its magic had not been burned away like some of the paint Neeshka moved back to her harbour-boy's side and then past him. The warlock had to dodge swiftly to his left as Neeshka's rapier darted out and almost into him. Blake managed to get his balance back as his sweetheart held off that foe to his right. She seemed to be doing well and skilfully using the extra reach her rapier granted her over fists so Blake took a chance. His bastard sword stabbed out not at the warlock but into the armoured man's back.
This was near the limit of Blake's reach so he could not have stabbed very deeply even against an unarmoured opponent. Against this man the wound was even shallower as, though Blake's sword found the gap at the man's waist, cutting through the chainmail between the armour plates did take a lot of power out of the blow. So it was not a deep wound and barely wetted more than the tip of Blake's sword with blood. However as the magic discharged from the blade into the man's kidney it proved to be very distracting one.
Gann finally got the opening he had been looking for to repeat his earlier blow but with the tip rather than the edge of his spearhead. This time the chainmail parted as the point slid between the links and into the man's neck. The Myrkullite collapsed onto his right knee as Gann twisted and withdrew his spear. He seemed to be choking on his blood as he fought to recite a healing prayer and to keep his shield between himself and his foes. Okku swung his right paw in for a third time and the armoured man's shield splintered to useless wreckage as he was knocked sprawling.
Giving in to the temptation to try to save his friend the warlock began to turn to attack Gann. Neeshka had been too much in his way for him to try to attack Blake as he thrust his sword out. Suddenly the warlock had to jump back as a rapier flicked past his face. A tiny drop of blood oozed from the fine cut across the bridge of his nose and even as a small part of him realised how close that had been to blinding him he was striking back. Unfortunately for him Neeshka proved her speed again and brought her small shield across so the heel of his hand would meet the tines on that rather than breaking bone. Barely the warlock managed to pull and divert the blow so he only gashed his left hand rather than more seriously wounding it.
Okku twisted back from his blow and planted his left paw on the armoured man's chest. Metal creaked as more of Okku's weight came onto that paw as he lowered his great head to bite at the man's. His jaw worked as he scraped his long teeth across the helmet metal searching by touch for the edge or a chink in it. The armoured man desperately punched at the sides of Okku's head, spilling more fragments of wood off his wrecked shield as it hampered his left arm, but to no avail. Okku found the edge of the helmet and his teeth almost ignored the chainmail as they sank deep into the Myrkullite's throat to nearly bite his neck through.
The warlock suddenly realised just how much trouble he was in. He had confidence in his speed but he could feel himself start to stiffen up around the cuts across his back and he knew that it would not take that long for blood loss from those wounds and from his hand to start to slow him. Gann had turned and was threatening him with his spear while Blake moved around to flank him. The warlock glanced between them and deciding he could not win he suddenly turned to make a dash for the door. If he could get that open then perhaps he could at least ensure the alarm was raised.
One fist blurred out to try to knock Neeshka aside and she did sidestep and get out of the way in avoiding that blow. Unfortunately for the warlock she also twisted her arm so as he passed he drew himself across the blade on her bracer. This was not a deep cut though and Neeshka was now in the way of Gann, while Blake had his shield in the way and was still turning. With a harrumph Okku tossed his head and the corpse of the armoured man so the warlock had to alter his stride and make a little hop to avoid tripping on this grisly obstacle.
Then Okku's left paw came sweeping in to take the warlock in the back of the calves and knock his legs out from under him. Managing to ride the blow rather than resist and have his legs broken or bloodied the warlock also managed to not go sprawling. Knocked backwards he landed on feet and hands thrust out behind him, his rear briefly touching the mould before thighs and arms flexed to send him bouncing back up.
Blake had continued his anti-clockwise turn and swept his sword down to meet the warlock as he rose. The edge of the blade bit in across the warlock's pectoral muscles and cut deep enough for its metal and the magic discharging from it to rupture the man's heart. Blake twisted his sword to dump the Myrkullite off it and then hacked down to split the warlock's head open and make sure he was dead.
Glancing at the other corpses and then at the door Blake nodded. "There are marks in that mould around the handle, and scrapes through the moss on the floor, so looks like that door has been opened."
Neeshka whistled. "Getting suspicious, harbour-boy," she smiled, adding as he looked at her. "Not assuming the visible door straight ahead is the right one."
"The door that man was trying to reach," rumbled Okku. "I think we can be secure in which way to go, little-one."
"I know my friends," Blake agreed, looking over the door for traps while Neeshka retrieved any valuables from the corpses. "Myrkul was right that sometimes I see complexity where there is none. I see a single door with guards…"
"And like your lady you want to look for a window," chuckled Gann. "Though do I refer to your Lady of Strategy or your lady of twitching tail?"
"Both," Blake smiled, pushing the door open.
Entering the next room they saw more footprints in the moss and that the door ahead of them had similar marks on it and by it to the one they had just passed through. There was another door to their left but that one was still moulded over and the moss around its base looked undisturbed. Blake looked at these clues and nodded to himself. "The trail still seems visible."
"Though visible is all it is," groused Okku. "Even my nose is having trouble telling which of these smells are fresh and which ancient. The older swamp the newer."
"You should feel at home then harbour-boy," Neeshka smiled, though this faltered as though Blake seemed amused and smiled back the other two looked at her in bafflement. "Swamp. He's from a Mere village," she added hesitantly, "from a swamp."
"Ah, a good play on words," said Gann hurriedly and politely.
"I got it," Blake reassured her, looking back at the door. "Now then, I don't want to be ambushed."
"Good thing you have me then," commented Neeshka, "I can sneak ahead no trouble."
"I don't…" Blake started before he decided to not say 'I don't want to risk you'. "I don't think we could get the door open quietly," he said instead, "so it could be more trouble as they'd be expecting you."
Neeshka smiled to him. "I know you have heard of misdirection, and don't worry, I'll be careful."
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The Myrkullite warlock tried to decide if he had heard something. There had been a faint sound of what might have been battle and there did seem to be voices from the room around the corner down the hall. He doubted the other three would have abandoned their position and there had been no plan for any more of their faith to follow them to this slimy sanctum. So whoever was talking were probably enemies and strong enough to have slain his brothers-in-service. There was a creak of rusty hinges and the voices became easier to hear.
He readied himself to strike. If these were foes then he would not be able to defeat them alone, but death held no fear for a follower of the True God of the Dead. His life was Myrkul's and if he could divert these interlopers then perhaps their lives and deaths would be Myrkul's also. Long moments passed and the voices seemed to come no nearer though they began to become louder. Scattered phrases floated through the foetid air and the warlock strained his ears to attempt to follow this argument. One voice seemed to be suggesting the trail was too obvious, another far deeper one that this didn't matter as they would crush any ambush, and a third that they should investigate the other door and then decide what to do.
Suddenly agony seared up and down the warlock's side and he yelled in pain. In his focus on the conversation in the other room he had failed to notice any tiny betraying noise Neeshka might have made as she crept towards him with another charge of her Ring of Invisibility. The Myrkullite coughed some blood as Neeshka smoothly withdrew her rapier from where she had stabbed it up under his ribcage almost to its basket hilt. He swung a desperate blow at her as she stepped gracefully back and away. Vaguely he noticed the voices from down the hall had stopped.
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Blake heard the yell and immediately charged through the door and around the corner, heedless of the slipperiness of the floor in his concern to reach Neeshka. That had not been the plan. It had seemed a good idea of hers that they should make noise as a diversion to make it obvious to whoever lurked ahead that they were still in this room. This had also given the chance to confirm the other door had not been opened. But she was supposed to just scout and come back and report rather than have to fight alone. Blake slowed in relief as he saw it was only one enemy and that it looked to have been Neeshka doing the ambushing.
Neeshka gave Blake a grin as she spotted him though the Myrkullite looked less pleased to see another enemy and behind him yet another and a huge bear. His wound was slowing him and as he evaded Blake's attempt to stab at his arm he felt a sudden gush of warmth down his leg. A moment later the pain across his thigh registered as his flesh belatedly realised it had been cut by Neeshka's incredibly sharp blade. The warlock stumbled and clasped one hand to his leg. The flow of blood through his fingers showed him a major blood vessel had been struck so he took his hand from his leg and summoned some arcane power.
A nimbus of energy surrounded his hand but rather than try to punch and discharge that into one of his foes he clasped his hand back to his wound. He choked off a scream as his flesh blackened in this attempt to burn the wound shut. Whether that worked was unclear though as Gann took advantage of his distraction to plunge his spear into the warlock's chest. The bleeding could have slowed due to the cauterisation or because it was no longer being driven out by a heartbeat. Gann twisted his spear and dumped the Myrkullite to the mossy floor.
"He seemed to be guarding this," Neeshka reported, gesturing at the dais.
Blake examined the dais and made a few divinations. "It has some teleportation magic, but I can't tell where it would take us."
"There is certainly one way to find out," Gann commented.
"Look here," smiled Neeshka. "I did say he seemed to be guarding that, and we are not the only ones that have heard of misdirection."
Blake looked and nodded as he saw the hidden door. The mould on it had been scraped off as it slid open and ridged up where it entered the wall. It was still quite green and slimy though and in the poor lighting the change in shade was not that clear. Thankfully Neeshka's eyes were better for colours. Perhaps because of her Tiefling heritage aiding her in the low light, perhaps because of experience gained telling the difference between different gemstones, or perhaps just because ladies generally were. She triggered the door and it scraped another layer of mould off as it withdrew again.
"Ah," Blake said as he looked down the short corridor and saw another dais.
"Would that be another teleporter?" asked Gann.
Blake made his divinations and nodded. "I think so."
"Then we have the same problem as before," Gann nodded back, "where this would teleport us to if you are, as I expect, right about its purpose."
"I will find out," rumbled Okku. "Death holds no fear for me and if this form is disrupted I will simply reform in my barrow." He paused as he prevented himself from adding 'I hope'. "But we have brought the little-one too far to risk him dying and the curse finding a new host now. And as little as I care for it as a means to enforce worship I suppose it could be even worse were his beloved to die and be sent to the Wall of the Faithless, and him be motivated to take the opportunity for a new Crusade."
"I follow Tymorra, Lady Luck," Neeshka pointed out with a smile, "so I am not one of the 'Faithless'. Gann on the other hand…"
"Back in the academy I did ask him to come after me," agreed Gann, "but I had been presuming on friendship rather than having realised quite the depth of his feelings."
"I meant the Tiefling," Okku rumbled, "but yes, I suppose he might try to save you spawn-of-hags."
"You have faith in the spirits, my friend," said Blake, looking to Gann, "and I am sure they would welcome you as one of their own, as a Telthor to continue walking the lands of Rashemen."
"I thank you for your attempt at reassurance," Gann replied, "though my fate, I think, would be by no means as certain as you suggest. But the Wall of the Faithless is a chance I will take." Gann frowned. "Walking on the skeleton of a dead God might have dented my stubborn refusal to believe they existed but I will not be intimidated into worship."
Blake nodded to Gann and turned back to Okku. "This could be a one-way portal, so you might not be able to return and say if it is safe."
"That is simply solved," said Gann, before Okku could reply. "If you recall I could sense Okku's presence outside Mulsantir before we confronted him. So as long as he is not teleported too far I should be able to tell if he is alive and something of his state of emotion."
Okku looked at Gann. He was not inclined to hide his emotions but he was not sure about the Hagspawn sensing even more than he had decided to show. But at least that impertinence could be useful here so it was more tolerable. He padded forward and onto the dais. There was a slight flash of magic and Okku found himself in another dank room with an armoured man reacting to his arrival. Feeling disinclined to waste time he lunged forward and his jaws closed on the Myrkullite before he could get his shield in the way or his flail unhooked from his belt.
His teeth scraped across the plate as he lifted the man from the floor. Though they sank through the chainmail at the man's waist they didn't seem to find anything vital and frustrated at this Okku tilted his head so rather than being horizontal the man was dangling more head down. Okku whipped his head to the side and there was a clang as the man's helmet met the stone floor. That prevented his skull from being split and his brains spread across the floor but the shock still knocked him senseless. Another small flash heralded the arrival of the others.
Gann had sensed Okku was alive and that his rage was flaring a little higher. That could have meant he was in a fight so they had followed, but this seemed so one sided as to barely count as a fight, let alone one the bear-god needed any assistance with. Okku smashed the man's head into the floor again, and again, and a few times more before he spat him out. The way the man's head twisted as he landed and lay still showed that somewhere in Okku's battering he had snapped the man's neck. Trying to ignore the clatter of the landing and how much noise repeatedly knocking a metal helmet against a stone floor had produced Blake looked ahead to the door. There was only the one door visible and from the marks on it and on the floor by it this did seem to have been opened.
Neeshka crept forward and, careful to not get gunk in her hair, brought one backswept pointed ear closer to it. She listened and nodded and returned. "Noises and voices," she reported in a low voice, "sounds like magic so they might be preparing for us."
Blake would have liked to blame this on Okku as even for a bear-god there had been quieter ways to kill someone than repeated clanging. He doubted though that any of the quieter methods would have gone unnoticed as he expected it would not have taken much to alert whoever was lurking ahead. Blake had a suspicion who at least one might be so he was not surprised as he pushed the door open. Two men in full armour had already placed themselves between the doorway and the other robe-clad Myrkullites, one of who was dressed in red rather than having the symbol of Myrkul.
"Wait," Araman said as Blake and the others entered and the Myrkullites shifted to meet them. "Stay your hands, all of you. This is my brother, though his face is not his own."
Blake sighed to himself as at least Myrkul, as mocking as he had been, had recognised there was a duality and had been able to tell the difference between the curse he had created, its latest host, and the man he had originally punished. As little surprise as being called spirit-eater or Akachi was becoming it was still annoying each time people did not recognise him as still being himself.
"Faith and blood are the strongest ties of all," Araman continued, "stronger than comradeship, purer than the intrigues of love. Forgive me for what I do here but Akachi's sin must be washed clean. My fight has always been with the Red Woman from the very start."
"So I learned in one of the Slumbering Coven's dreamscapes," replied Blake, trying to be reasonable. "And that you live until your oath is complete. Your devotion to hunting her through the centuries does you credit, by some lights, though Myrkul did mention a geas to keep you motivated."
"Does he believe that his magic still compels me?" Araman asked. "Faith and resolve are stronger bonds, I am not the flitting shadow I once was, and my God would do better to save his strength. I am bound by my own choice, the first I truly made, to pursue the Red Woman and right my brother's wrong."
"Then let us work together," argued Blake, silently praying to Milil for eloquence enough even as he knew it unlikely he could be blessed enough. Even The Lord of Song needed something to work with. "Whatever punishment Akachi deserved there is more wrong in letting this curse persist and others be punished for it."
"We cannot. You are the Red Woman's plaything, now as ever. You caper and dance at her every whim. Ask yourself how a stranger from the West came to lie in the barrow where my brother's remnant remained trapped if she did not place you there."
"I know full well how I came to lie there," replied Blake impatiently. "Despite your hindrance I know of the servants shaped into the form of Gargoyles that placed me there, of the portals that teleported me and them, of the crude surgery to remove the shard from my chest…"
"And ask yourself where Nefris' daughter is," Neeshka added. "The one she sent to 'guide' my harbour-boy along her chosen path from there…"
"The girl is not actually in that chamber anymore," interrupted Okku. "I had the corpse removed before I pursued you to Mulsantir. Even if I didn't know what her reasons were I did know she had been involved in releasing the spirit-eater, and that her body did not deserve to remain in that sacred place."
"If you killed her then that is something I should be grateful for," Araman said with genuine feeling. Nefris' daughter Safiya had been a concern as she was powerful and skilled enough to cause trouble that he did not want when his oath seemed so close to being fulfilled. "But, even without her to guide you, and however you have tried to break free, you are still here in this place at the start of a road the Red Woman has prepared for you and that must not be walked again. Mark me, she is a greater monster than our God Myrkul ever was. She is the reason for all your suffering, then and now."
"Your god Myrkul," snapped Blake. He took a deep breath before continuing in a slightly less exasperated tone. "I am not Akachi so I have never followed that God and with the trouble this curse has caused me and Rashemen I care little for Akachi's suffering then." Blake paused. "But that means I also care little for the Red Woman. Your claim on her long pre-dates mine so I ask simply for the Sword of Gith and the chance to ask her a few questions before you complete your oath."
"I cannot let you open the gate to the Fugue Plane again or assault the Wall of the Faithless," Araman replied, looking determined. "It has never been the Red Woman I hated, it was the evil we committed in her name. You risk repeating my brother's sin, except worse as it would be to save yourself rather having even the feeble excuse that it was for the woman you loved."
"Love is not evil and that excuse is not feeble," insisted Gann. "Love can result in something stronger and more lasting than evil can aspire to."
"Love is not evil," Araman admitted, before adding, "but sacrificing others in its name, betraying your God and your faith, causing all this suffering… what other name would you call it?" He stopped and frowned as he realised he was arguing. "Enough, I will not be false to my God again."
"And I will not turn back since this is not to save myself, or not just to save myself," replied Blake, frowning back. "This is to save anyone else from suffering this curse. To save more spirits from being eaten. To end this and fulfil Okku's oath."
"Then if you would risk millions with a new Crusade to save those thousands then I shall stop you," Araman declared, glaring and gesturing to his subordinates, "or die and go to my judgement with an untroubled heart."
Blake wanted to protest that he had no intent to lead a new Crusade, that all he wanted was his soul and to end the curse, but the Myrkullites were already attacking. Araman muttered an incantation and a spell of Darkness blanketed the room around him and his men. Blake's helmet helped his eyesight so this magic was no barrier to him seeing the robed man with a shield and sickle was also reciting something. Lightning and acid rain suddenly began streaking down onto the moss at the edge of the Darkness and making it turn black as it burnt under the effects of the Storm of Vengeance.
Trying to ignore the concern seeing that powerful prayer caused about how much strength something was still lending Myrkul's clerics Blake continued with his own spell and spectral dust began to swirl around the Myrkullites' feet. They didn't seem to notice this until the huge ghostly woman burst from it, drew in a great breath, and then screamed the Wail of the Banshee. To Blake's annoyance notice it was all they did as although they staggered a little as the wave of sound and magic passed over them none of them fell.
"Blast," Blake breathed, "too tough or warded against that sort of spell."
"But not tough enough or warded against a bear-god," rumbled Okku, claws digging into the moss and the stone beneath as he leapt forward to begin his charge. The acid and lightning of the Storm of Vengeance were beneath his notice and at this close range it was easy for him to smell these foes rather than needing to see them.
Blake sighed and followed. Neeshka echoed both the sigh and the actions, though Gann looked at the continuing Storm of Vengeance and started circling around it along one wall. Araman saw the charging trio and his eyes flickered across them as he chose his target. He doubted the spell would affect something as determined as the bear-god and he still hesitated to strike at the host of his brother so he focussed on the Tiefling as he chanted. To his annoyance rather than his spell of Hold Person fixing Neeshka in place within the area affected by the Storm of Vengeance all it did was make her shield glow as it absorbed the arcane energy harmlessly.
Neeshka was quite pleased at this glow as she had been concerned whether that magic would still work after her shield was scorched. Lithely she dodged aside an instant before a lightning bolt streaked down into the floor. Ahead of her Blake started to move but she could tell he was a hair slow so she gave him a quick shove, letting that push her in the opposite direction as well so that lightning arced down between them. The moment it took them both to recover their stride slowed them so Okku got that little bit further from their aid.
Not caring whether he had any aid or not the bear-god slammed into the two armoured men who formed a minimal shield wall. Magic fuelled strength let them resist the shared impact and then their flails came in to strike Okku either side of his neck just behind his jaw line. Okku did not have veins or nerves there but it still stunned him a little and two other Myrkullites took advantage. These robed men had stayed slightly behind their armoured brothers-in-faith but now one stepped out to each side and forward. They brought their scythes sweeping in from left and right and the curved blades sank deep enough into Okku's flanks they could have touched within him.
Blake was just past the edge of the Storm of Vengeance and he slowed his charge as he decided to take a chance. Staying with him Neeshka gave a slight smile as she had been surprised her harbour-boy had not done this before. Arcane power twisted into flame in front of Blake in response to his incantation and then split and sprang away from him in the smaller fireballs of a spell of Firebrand. To Blake's relief in striking the enemies this did miss Okku despite his great size and position in front of or between them. One armoured man was simply scorched and didn't react beyond a grunt of pain. The other, to his right, seemed to have breathed in at just the wrong moment as the Firebrand ball struck him high on the chest and started to choke with scorched mouth and windpipe.
The robed Myrkullite with a heavy shield and sickle who had been remaining near Araman stepped forward as that armoured man struggled to remain on his feet. He placed his shield against the other's back to support him as he quickly prayed and healed him. Then not waiting for thanks or to assess the result of that prayer he pushed the armoured man back into line with a shove of his shield. Even with the healing that man was still rather wobbly but Okku was unable to take advantage of this. The two men with scythes had not withdrawn them and were wrestling against Okku's attempts to free himself.
Blake could see that his Firebrand had set the left sleeve of the closest scythe man on fire but he did not seem troubled by this as he and his comrade continued to try to hold Okku in place. The bear-god's own healing was slightly working against him as he cut himself pulling and twisting against the blades. Okku's spirit-form was reforming constantly and closing the wounds as they were made. This had the unfortunate side effect of keeping the wounds small enough the scythe blades could still get a grip within them and kept Okku held as another pair of flail blows struck down on either side of his head.
Seeing a gleam of bone within the burnt sleeve as the man finally wrenched his scythe free to turn and face him and Neeshka let Blake understand why that burning sleeve had been of so little concern. "Ah, a Pale Master."
"Which means what?" Gann asked from the other side of the room to Blake's left. He was moving rather more cautiously as though his Hagspawn eyes were good in darkness they were not as good as he'd hoped when this was generated by magic rather than a lack of torches. The robed man with a scythe to that side looked at Gann and gestured. Seeing a Skeleton summoned into existence Gann raised his eyebrows and gave a wry smile. "Well, that answers that question."
"They also use their necromancy on themselves," warned Blake, continuing to advance.
"Eww," Neeshka said, peering at the skeletal arm the destruction of the sleeve had revealed. "I don't want you to do that, harbour-boy. I like your hands as they are."
Blake nodded and stabbed at the nearest Pale Master. A quick gesture of his scythe knocked Blake's sword aside but then Neeshka almost seemed to teleport with the speed with which she darted forward past Blake. The Myrkullite hurriedly dodged aside from Neeshka's rapier and then even more hurriedly tried to parry again as Blake brought his sword slicing back in. Rather than meeting the flat of the blade it was the edge that struck the scythe shaft and nearly cut through it.
Overcoming his reluctance Araman tried to assist and with a far more deadly spell than he'd wasted on Neeshka. Blake turned and leaned back as a ray of Disintegrate sprang from the Red Wizard's hand. This punched cleanly though the upper corner of Blake's shield furthest from his body, the thick laminated wood not providing quite enough resistance for the beam to discharge and spread its effects across it. Even though the hole was only about the same size as the ring of thumb and forefinger, and might be able to be patched, this still annoyed Blake and the attempt was worthy of avenging.
Trusting Neeshka to keep the man with the heavily damaged scythe busy Blake made his own spell. A virulent green globe appeared, somehow managing to shine despite the magical darkness still surrounding them, and then arced away to burst over Araman and release its acid. None of the other Myrkullites were close enough to be splashed by the Vitriolic Sphere but Blake did not care as the thicker acid clung and burned. With the trouble Araman had caused them Blake enjoyed the sight a little too much and he suddenly felt bone fingers close around his sword arm while he was distracted; a numbness spread up it as the effects of the Pale Master's undead graft tried to paralyse or kill him.
Neeshka cursed. Even with her ability to naturally make this sort of darkness the Gods' little joke was that it did hamper her eyesight. She'd missed the subtle clues to what this scum-sucker intended, the tensing and shifting of weight, until he'd thrown his scythe at her and in the moment she had needed to avoid it the man had lunged at her harbour-boy. Her rapier flicked out and she carved the thin sharp blade through the Myrkullite's guts but, though he bent a little around it and released Blake's arm, he seemed strangely unaffected.
The Pale Master jumped away, chanted, and cast a missile storm at Neeshka at close range. Seeing the projectiles of magic energy battering her back Blake felt a flush of rage through his body, aside from his sword arm that was numb even to this. With determination Blake ordered his sword hand to stay closed and started to swing his arm and try to ignore the pins and needles of the returning sensation. He hoped his sword would not fall out of his hand in mid-attack as he could not really feel it in his hand and so could not tell if it was slipping or how hard he was actually gripping it. As solidly as it looked like his sword had connected from the blood and the tear in flesh and robes following one swing there was still only a faint feeling of the impact up his arm.
Meanwhile Okku continued to be pummelled by the paired flails of the two armoured men. After the one had been healed they had managed to get back into a rhythm and to keep the bear-god off balance. Okku was healing as fast as they could injure him but this was taking enough of his nigh inexhaustible might that the deep wounds the scythes had left in his flanks were not closing for now. He wavered between his determination to not retreat and his inability to focus enough under this punishment to attack.
Blake swung another clumsy blow that the Pale Master staggered back away from. Despite his robes Neeshka managed to strike precisely at his leg, cutting through the cloth and finding the flesh beneath the concealing folds. This worsened the Myrkullite's stagger and he nearly fell. Blake's sword came back in and sliced deep into the side of the man's waist. Skin and muscle parted and magic discharged into either side of the wound. The Myrkullite fell and Neeshka neatly flicked the tip of her rapier across his throat to finish the job. To her surprise Blake drove his sword down into the man's chest and hacked and stabbed at the head and body for several more blows. Neeshka knew her harbour-boy could sometimes have a temper, but he didn't normally take out his rage like that.
Seeing his brother-in-faith fall the armoured man to the left of their two-man line realised there was a danger to their flank. He turned and stepped back a little to form a corner and better protect the other armoured man against Blake and Neeshka. Unfortunately for them although that better protected against them it also meant there was now only one flail beating at Okku. The bear-god's vision was still blurry but he could finally regain enough balance to reach out with his great right paw and snag its claws into the shield of the man still facing him. Okku heaved and the armoured Myrkullite was almost thrown aside to the bear-god's left.
This took a lot of effort on Okku's part but as the man tried to keep his feet he found himself in the way of the summoned skeleton. Gann took advantage of this to make a quick dash closer to Okku's side and, as the skeleton tried to follow, to start beseeching the spirits for aid. Healing energy rippled out from Gann and Okku's eyes cleared a little with the aid. The skeleton though convulsed as Gann had used a prayer that would affect all he chose within an area and that also drove out some of the energies of undeath that animated those bones. Before the skeleton could recover from the influx of healing Gann whipped the butt of his spear around so the metal bands reinforcing that crunched into and through the skeleton's skull.
Finding his own flank suddenly exposed by the throwing aside of his comrade the other armoured man turned again to face Okku. He took a couple of steps back as the man with the sickle left Araman's side again and joined him on his left. They couldn't form as good a shield wall as before, since their shields were so different in size and shape, but they could at least support each other and prevent Blake and Neeshka from continuing to advance so easily. Or so they thought until the revitalised bear-god lunged and his huge teeth closed on the flail-arm of that armoured man.
Araman had been casting a missile storm and Okku's sudden move drew his eyes and made the bear-god the closest target for the spell to fix upon. Glimmering projectiles of magical energy arced through the darkness and into the spirit-form. A creak came from the armoured man's forearm as the metal over it bent with Okku's jaw flexing in reaction to that pain. The surviving Pale Master swung his scythe at Gann who had to turn and parry. This almost put his back to the other armoured man so that Myrkullite hesitated for a moment over whether to strike at the Hagspawn before deciding to smack Okku behind the left ear with his flail. Okku grunted and ignored this as he started to shake his head about a little and twist at the arm in his mouth.
The robe clad Myrkullite had also wanted to help but he had the problem of Blake and Neeshka. As he tried to circle around his comrade to get past him and at the bear-god he'd got too close to the advancing pair. Blake's sword thrust out with a speed the Myrkullite found unexpected. The clumsiness of his blows while his arm had been numbed, and the contrast with Neeshka's incredible speed, had fooled the robed man into thinking Blake was far slower. He parried but trying to turn a bastard sword aside with a sickle was not easy and he almost disarmed himself in the attempt.
As the robed man tried to keep hold of his weapon Neeshka stabbed at him over his shield and at his neck. She remembered the similarly clad man near where they'd arrived had been concealing armour under his robes but even if this was true here she could see that armour was not extending up past the man's collar. The fine edge of her sword cut deep into the flesh of the Myrkullite's neck and his cry of pain was a rather stifled one. Whether it was the physical wound or the effect of the magic from her blade it seemed that man was unable to do more than make throat-clearing noises and certainly could not form the words of a healing prayer. Seeing and hearing this the armoured man who was not in Okku's mouth began to move to aid him. He still owed his brother-in-faith for the earlier healing and it seemed more important to use what little gifts for that he had than to continue to flail at a spirit bear that was apparently ignoring those efforts.
Gann stabbed out again with his spear and began to feel a little frustrated as once more he cut nothing but cloth. He was finding it hard with this man's speed and the continued darkness to strike a solid blow and, to his annoyance, his spearhead was glancing off the man's skin. One of the gifts of being a Hagspawn was to have magically unyielding flesh but he'd not been expecting it from someone without that parentage. The Pale Master struck back and there was a clack as Gann met this attack shaft to shaft before trying to bring the butt of his spear into the man's foot. The moss prevented sparks being struck from the stone floor as the Myrkullite dodged and the metal bands grazed across those instead.
Although he'd given the impression of being unaffected Okku had been feeling a little dazed from being beaten with the flail. Now though he gathered his strength and twisted and bucked his head. The armoured man screamed before he could stop himself as his elbow gave way with an audible and squelchy pop. Okku swung his head to the right and let go to send the man staggering towards the door they had entered by and down onto one knee. He trusted the little-one to take advantage of this. The bear-god twisted back to his left towards the other armoured man and pounced, slamming into his right side while he was in mid-prayer.
The man managed to avoid being borne down by Okku and punched him in the eye. But this did spoil his attempt at healing and, with that spoiled, the man with the sickle continued to slow. Blake had faith that Neeshka could keep that man busy and so turned despite how this exposed his back. The armoured Myrkullite's back was also exposed but he managed to turn on his knee and bring his shield around to protect himself. So Blake simply kicked him in the shield. Normally that was a bad idea as it put you on one foot and a little wobbly as you compensated for the impact of your own kick. Here though it knocked the already off-balance Myrkullite over and when he automatically put his flail hand down to keep himself upright his injured elbow gave way with a crunch and he went sprawling.
Blake took a moment to regain his balance and then took a couple of quick strides to sweep his sword down across in front of him and nearly decapitate the man before he could recover from the shock of the agony in his arm. Behind him his sweetheart managed to open a wound on the shoulder of the man with the sickle and slow him yet further. Blake turned and seeing how far Neeshka had the advantage decided she needed no help however protective he felt towards her and her to him.
Araman did not want to move away from the door behind which the Red Woman had locked herself but even though he could see through the darkness he could not see through the people moving about within it. His subordinate with the scythe was between him and the Hagspawn but the obstacle to his view of the Tiefling and the host of his brother's remains would make a fine target in itself. Araman chanted and an Orb of Acid streaked away from him and into Okku. This was a good powerful spell and though it did not splash as far or cling to a target it could burn worse than the Vitriolic Sphere his brother's host had cast at him. Araman cursed though as the acid ran off Okku's form without much ill effect as he had no physical body to corrode.
Looking about Blake had a similar problem as he could not see Araman or the armoured Myrkullite who Okku was driving back towards the ancient Red Wizard and former priest. He could see across the room through the darkness though and he summoned some arcane power to his command. Projectiles of magical energy flurried from his sword hand as Blake chanted and cast a Greater Missile Storm that curved into the Pale Master that Gann was fighting. The wounds these inflicted were not serious but they were distracting and helped Gann to thrust his spear into the man's chest.
This blow easily had enough power behind it to overcome the toughness of the man's flesh and drive the spearhead into his heart. Gann twisted the spear and withdrew it and then, to his great surprise, had to dodge back away from a scythe sweep. He was sure he had struck his target and that no amount of determination could keep someone on their feet for more than a few moments after that. But the Pale Master continued to fight and take advantage of Gann's surprise.
"Their Necromantic power can keep fatal wounds from being so," Blake called, seeing his friend's puzzlement. "Compensate for being struck in vital organs until they can seek healing."
"Hmph," replied Gann, rather disgruntled. "Even the living we fight are pretending to be undead, and without being slowed as a prayer I have heard of would."
Neeshka hesitated almost in mid-stride as she heard the exchange. That explained why her cut across the other one's gut had not been as effective as she had hoped and why her harbour-boy had hacked him apart so thoroughly. He was not desecrating the corpse in anger, he was just making sure of it. The Myrkullite with the sickle tried a feeble swing and Neeshka batted this aside with her small shield and though it looked like he was only seconds away from bleeding out took mercy and finished him with another slash across the throat. As he fell she started circling around and towards Araman and the armoured man. Blake nodded to her and started across the room towards the Pale Master to help Gann as scythe and spear continued to click together in strike and parry.
"Back," Araman ordered.
The two Myrkullites obeyed and retreated to close the gap between each other and their leader. Okku rumbled in satisfaction as Neeshka joined him on his right shoulder and Blake and Gann on his left. The advantage in numbers was now theirs and the prey had cornered itself.
"Wait," said Blake, to Okku's disappointment as he would have preferred the little-one to say 'Kill'. "Araman, I give you this last chance, let us speak to the Red Woman together and then if we are still enemies settle matters between us and with her."
"That I cannot allow," Araman replied. "Whatever you say, whatever you do, you are still a tool of her and her knowledge would fuel your folly."
"So be it," sighed Blake, giving up and considering how to finish this.
"Allow me," Gann offered.
Admitting the existence of Gods did not make him value oaths to them compared with the destruction wrought on the Spirits, or with the value of love, so he was nearly as impatient as Okku with this talking. Asking the spirits for their gifts once more and thanking them with gratitude for their power even in these barren lands Gann created a Burst of Glacial Wrath. This staggered the trio and the armour oil on the one froze so his armour joints screeched as he tried to move. With the instincts forged by the battles that they had been through together the four friends moved in unison. Blake and Gann struck at the Pale Master while Okku and Neeshka dealt with the armoured man.
Despite being slowed by his seized up armour the Myrkullite managed to get his tower shield between himself and Neeshka and to swing his flail into Okku's shoulder. The bear-god shrugged this blow off, swept his left paw in low, and took the armoured man's legs out from under him. The man fell and sprawled but managed to keep his shield over his body to protect him. Neeshka jumped and stamped both feet down onto his shield, pushing herself back off it and landing gracefully back away a few feet while the Myrkullite fought to regain the breath that had been driven from his lungs by the impact.
Gann's spear flicked in at the Pale Master's face and he parried with his scythe. Before he could be too pleased at this success Blake brought his sword chopping down and through his shoulder. The skeletal arm of undead bone the Myrkullite had sacrificed so much to gain flopped to the floor and broke apart as being severed from the Pale Master's body also severed it from the magic that had kept it intact. Denied the support of the undead hand the scythe started to twist in the Myrkullite's living one. Before the man could compensate, or drop the scythe as too difficult to use one handed, Gann's spear came back in and its head bit deep into the Pale Master's neck.
The robes with their seal of Myrkul started to be stained with blood from this wound as well as from the still open one in the centre of the Myrkullite's chest. Blake noted with annoyance that there was no blood coming from the man's shoulder so where he cut through must have been undead bone rather than flesh. As far as Blake knew Pale Masters didn't replace their legs though so he whipped his sword around in a short powerful horizontal arc. The meaty feel as his blade cut halfway through the Myrkullite's thigh and the fresh rush of blood showed he was right, here at least. The man fell and Gann stabbed him in the face several times to make sure he stayed down.
While Gann was pulping the front of that Myrkullite's skull Okku decided to follow Neeshka's example. He reared up onto his hind paws, his head nearly touching the ceiling, and slammed his forepaws down onto the armoured man's shield. This spread the impact slightly more than when the bear-god had struck directly onto the Death Knight's breastplate but the living man proved more susceptible to having his chest crushed than the undead had been. A fine mist of red blood sprayed from his helmet air holes as his lungs ruptured and bled and the air was forced from them. Okku almost daintily brought his forepaws down onto the floor as he turned to Araman.
"You stand in the way of a god-of-bears and his oath," Okku growled from deep in his chest.
"I have an oath of my own to fulfil," retorted Araman, still unintimidated.
Neeshka moved up, past the armoured man gasping to draw breath into his crushed chest, and glared at the old man. Her harbour-boy had tried to be nice and this idiot kept on throwing that back in his face. Araman's eyes flicked between them and he started an incantation. Neeshka's rapier darted out and into his gut but Araman's attempt at spellcasting didn't falter until a moment later when Blake's larger sword swept in and the backhanded blow lopped his head off his shoulders. It bounced on the mossy floor as Neeshka hurriedly stepped back away from the gout of blood from the fresh stump of the neck.
"That was anti-climactic," Neeshka commented as the corpse slumped to the floor and the flow of blood slowed as the heart realised it no longer needed to pump.
"He was an unarmoured old man," replied Blake, "though I admit I had expected some spell of protection that would have resisted my blade or some aura that would have wounded me in return."
"Both of which you have," Neeshka smiled, "as well as clumsy thick armour and shield and not being quite that old."
Blake cast his eye up and down Neeshka's fine Mithril chain and the leather and padding over it. They both knew that though his armour was thicker than hers that as they were made of the same light but strong metal it was far less clumsy than most full plate, but they both also knew her comments were a running joke between them and gentle teasing. Blake very briefly considered though whether to respond to the other part of her statement as they had never established which of them was the older. But this temptation was easily rejected as that lack of knowledge was because he did know that, whatever your intent, you never said or asked anything about your Lady's age.
"In any case, little-one," rumbled Okku, "it was well done."
"Aye," Blake replied, distracted as he realised the gasps of the dying man had stopped.
He glanced in that direction and Neeshka gave him a smile as she straightened from her crouch beside the Myrkullite and wiped off her rapier blade. Blake nodded back to her. Gann might have been able to heal even those wounds but they were not in a position to take prisoners and it was better to give a quick death where possible rather than to let your enemies linger for more than would be needed for a final prayer. Blake watched as Neeshka crossed to the door and the magical darkness finally faded. She checked it and gave her harbour-boy another smile.
"Door's locked," commented Neeshka, adding, "which is not surprising."
"See if you can find a way to open it, please," Blake replied. "Gann and I will check the bodies."
"We will? Oh yes, of course we will. For the smile she might grant us we shall place our hand on blood soaked corpses and their sodden clothing."
"Gems and gold would make her smile some more," Blake nodded, checking Araman's robes, "though clues and information would make me look less dour."
"Then either would be a blessing, though is there much else to learn?" asked Gann, frisking the Pale Master. "We know the origin and the purpose of your curse."
"Oghma has blessed us," Blake replied, "but more knowledge would further honour him and could still cast a different light on what Myrkul has said. Though that does seem unlik…"
"Blast!" snapped Neeshka, interrupting her harbour-boy in mid-word.
"My love?" Blake asked in concern, standing and turning to look at her.
"Oh," muttered Neeshka, slightly embarrassed, "it was the acid. I suddenly noticed what it had done to your lovely gift.
Blake nodded as he saw the paler blotches where the dye had been affected. "When we get home, darling, we can have that bleached and redyed, or we can have the cloth and leather replaced if you think it has been too badly damaged."
"Myself I am more concerned about the damage to my hair," commented Gann. "Fortunately it is already white so it has not become spotted but that does also make it harder to tell if it has been splashed."
"Of course a helmet would have protected it," Blake pointed out, "like the one you decided against wearing."
"True," Gann admitted with a wry smile.
The door suddenly creaked open but nothing appeared in the doorway. Blake gave it a suspicious look and then looked back to Neeshka. "Well done."
"Wasn't me harbour-boy," Neeshka admitted. "Just opened, so I hope you finished the searching."
"No clues and not much else," replied Blake, moving cautiously forward.
Entering the room they found themselves flanked by a pair of spider like Golems. Blake's hand went to his sword but these, and the pair of Clay Golems standing against the side walls a third of the way down the room, showed no signs of reacting to their arrival. The floor in this room was of clean tile and there was no mould upon the walls, which was fortunate for the condition of the many books in the bookcases and on the floor in one corner where a bookcase seemed to have toppled. However despite the greater cleanliness and the much better lighting there was still a strange air about this room and standing at the other end of it was the reason.
Flanked by a pair of homunculi of the same sort as had accompanied the young Red Wizard to Okku's barrow was The Founder. Reality had been so unkind to her though that she was barely recognisable. In the dreamscape of the Mosstone the 'Red Woman' serving as the hosts' anchor had possessed a certain serenity, in the vision shown in the Slumbering Coven's dreamscape she'd had passion and vitality, but here she seemed tired and bitter and old in mind as well as body. And trying to see with his eyes rather than his Dreamer's Eye Blake decided that body reminded him of those found when cutting peat. Like those bog-mummies, however pretty she had been in life, she now looked brown and sunken and wrinkled.
"Hsst! Get you back from her!" one homunculus threatened as they approached.
Okku growled back with enough resonance the torches flickered in sympathy. Ignoring this The Founder gestured to her two small companions. "Hessa, Jassim… shoo!" she ordered them. "Give me a moment to gaze upon…" The Founder paused as emotion overcame her. "My dearest, look at us. You wear the face of a stranger and I've known hags that are comelier than the prune that I've become."
"I wear the face I have always worn," Blake replied firmly. "I am not Akachi, I am not the previous spirit-eaters, and I am getting damned sick of having to tell people this."
"Oh, I don't think you are him. Not really. The man that I loved is gone. Little remains of him but a mindless hunger, seething beneath your flesh. And the fault is mine. I was the one he went to save. The soul he tore from the wall."
"So we have learned and deduced," Blake agreed. "There are some memories of him, and later hosts, lingering within the curse. But, aye, most of what your actions inflicted on me is just the seething hunger…"
"Which I am grateful you have controlled, little-one," commented Okku.
Blake nodded to Okku before addressing The Founder again. "And the pain of that hunger and the trouble you have caused me makes me impatient about hearing this tale again," he said with a sigh. "So," Blake continued, trying to keep his voice businesslike, "before I gave Myrkul the gift of resting eternally he said I could end this curse if I reclaimed my soul from the Wall of the Faithless. To pass the Betrayer's Gate I need the Sword of Gith. Where is it?"
"So much lost for one fool girl," quavered The Founder, not really hearing Blake as she became lost in memories and her grief. "I was the one he went to save. My beloved launched a Crusade and sacrificed all that he was to tear my soul from the wall. Better that he had left me to rot, perhaps, and found another pretty thing to distract him from his faith."
"Agreed," Blake said flatly. "Far better that you had died than Rashemen had been cursed."
"You wouldn't do that to me though would you, harbour-boy?" asked Neeshka.
Blake looked at his beloved and tried to interpret her expression. Even with the extra insight he had gained through their love and through Gann's teaching he was not sure if she was asking for reassurance or arguing that in Akachi's place he might have made the same decision. "I don't know," Blake finally said. "What Akachi did has brought much suffering and could have brought even more. But I don't know if I would care about that compared with you…" Blake broke off as he noticed The Founder was looking at Neeshka rather than him and that there was a gleam of recognition and hatred in her ancient sunken eyes.
"You!" spat The Founder. "I know you from a dying girl's last sight. Safiya… she was all that was best in me. Everything that Akachi loved, gave his soul to protect, and which you callously slew without warning. She was blameless, knew nothing of what she was or what Akachi had become, had no part in any of my wrongs…"
"Until the point at which she did," Blake interrupted. "You may have kept her ignorant of the details of your plot but she was still sent to Okku's barrow and was still made part of your plans and your wrongs." He frowned a little in thought. "How do you recognise Neeshka though… unless…"
"Harbour-boy?" said Neeshka as Blake's words spluttered to a stop.
"When Nefris and Lienna offered their dreams to the Slumbering Coven," Blake nodded, "they claimed they were unique and the Hags said something about those being facets of the same ancient stone."
"I remember," commented Gann.
"Do you also remember the Academy we just passed through was dedicated to dividing and combining souls?"
"Ah," said Gann, following Blake's logic. "So when she says 'all that was best in me'…"
"A mind, a soul, can be teased apart, its elements distilled," The Founder said, taking the chance to lecture. "Sever one aspect from the rest, and suddenly it is stronger, more focused, than it was as part of the whole. And if one of us was slain it would return to the whole and the others would carry on and Akachi would not be abandoned. But Araman knew this and had watched me and waited for all my fragments to reveal themselves."
"Which letting him join your Academy probably helped him with," jeered Neeshka, returning The Founder's dislike with her own.
"Would you recognise someone you thought centuries dead?" The Founder replied derisively. "Someone that when you knew them were just the silent shy pale-faced little brother who hardly spoke a word?" The old crone drew herself up to her full shrivelled height. "But even with how the years had changed him, and with how I did not see as I was not looking, his success was partially yours, Demon. As is the trouble you have had."
"Explain," Blake growled, his hand going to his sword at the insult to Neeshka.
"Hsst," one homunculus warned, flapping a little forward.
The Founder waved the Golem back again as she sneered some more at Neeshka. "Your 'harbour-boy' was never meant to be left unguided. Safiya would have taken him to Lienna who would have told him what he was, enough to understand his curse…"
"But told him too late to have saved Nakata from it," Okku rumbled, his yellow eyes glowing with rage.
"Nakata?" asked The Founder, her attention drawn to Okku and his storm-cloud presence.
"The spirit-wolf that I devoured on my way out of the barrow," Blake replied, "when the curse took me by surprise."
"Perhaps," said The Founder, trying to regain control of the conversation, "had the Tiefling here not slain my sweet Safiya it would have not been such a surprise…"
"No. It would have been," Blake interrupted, "since Safiya was told nothing to warn me."
"And how do you know what Safiya was told when she barely got a chance to speak to you?" retorted The Founder.
"Because I was outside the window when you were talking to yourself," Neeshka smiled with a mixture of malice and triumph, "and I told my harbour-boy how I'd heard you complain to yourself in that tower room about being kept ignorant, and that your reply that this was so you would not have to lie about not knowing the answers."
"Continue with your tale old woman," ordered Blake flatly. "And with more honesty, in a few sentences you have already tried to shift blame for Nakata from yourself to Neeshka and already tried to make it sound you had reasons other than deception to not share knowledge with an aspect of yourself."
"I... I did," The Founder protested, "I wanted Safiya to…"
"To be able to lie more effectively," growled Blake, interrupting. "Now continue, and I warn you now that I resent how the memories from this curse try to make me regard you with a degree of trust or fondness. Its efforts to influence me only makes me distrust and despise you more."
"Leading a Pig," Gann commented, baffling everyone but Blake who remembered the analogy and nodded to him.
"Nefris would have told you the rest," The Founder continued, looking hurt at being despised by the host of the remains of her beloved. "The truth of what the curse was and what needed to be done to end it. She would have given you the Sword of Gith as well."
"And you?"
"I…" The Founder began. She looked at the quartet and decided to be honest. "That truth would have remained untold hidden beneath the others. Lienna knew stagecraft and she thought that best. Nefris was prepared to play my part, even to die at your hands if needed so you would never learn of me. Instead though she died at the hands of Araman thanks to the Tiefling."
"Another effort to shift blame," said Blake in disgust.
"It is not!" protested The Founder. "Lienna and Nefris, they knew what they were but when Araman or his minions slew them and they returned to me we still had trouble becoming one again. Safiya though had no idea since we had raised her as a daughter rather than a part of us. I was distracted by having to explain so much to her within our mind. And though Nefris knew Safiya would still live on as part of us she still mourned her. Mourned the loss of her independent life and what she could have become."
Blake frowned at The Founder for a moment. He had warned her to be more honest and yet most of that still seemed a lie. She was claiming they had kept Safiya ignorant so she could have an 'independent life' and be raised 'as a daughter' rather than because her ignorance was useful to their centuries old plot. Inside him whispers of Akachi tried to say that the woman he loved would have had those tender feelings and in response Blake became more convinced that she wouldn't. Then he remembered Gann's warning about how always pulling in the opposite direction, like a pig with a string on its rear leg, was just as much being influenced.
"So you argue that Araman would have failed were you not distracted by your explanations," Blake pressed, trying to balance his feelings, "and were Nefris not distracted by grief?"
"Yes!" replied The Founder, her old eyes flashing within their wrinkles as she noticed and resented Blake's disbelief they had grieved for her sweet Safiya. As he continued to look at her though she relented from that certainty. "Maybe," she admitted, "it was a surprise and his plans were well laid. He knew of Nefris already. When he found Lienna he struck and you were abandoned."
"Abandoned other than by the woman I love," Blake frowned, "since you seem to have done nothing more than lurk here in safety."
"I would sacrifice a thousand like you, if that's what it took to save Akachi," The Founder retorted. "As carefully as I had chosen, what if you failed? Do you think I would risk myself and the chance to try again?" Blake nodded to the rhetorical questions and The Founder continued. "Were Akachi truly here I would tell him I have never rested since that day. This Academy, all you've seen here, all this was for him. I know I cannot bring him back, but I can end his pain and the punishment he never deserved. You have given me that chance."
"Given?" Blake repeated. "Strange, I thought you had taken that chance from me rather than me giving it to you."
"I could not risk your refusal," said The Founder, managing to look down her nose at Blake. "You were the best tool for the task in centuries. The bond that formed between you and that shard and the Blade of Gith also linked you to my beloved and to all the Sword-Bearers. And, just as I hoped, some part of him knew it and that allowed you a greater measure of control over the hunger. So were you the best choice to place in the barrow? Yes. Did I allow you to be joined with the monster that my beloved has become? Yes."
"Did you reverse the plans of a God of Bears and render his sacrifice meaningless? Yes," Okku growled. "Cause the devouring of a friend of his? Yes!"
The Founder ignored this and went on addressing Blake. "Would I have deceived you and relied on your own self-interest to end my lover's curse? Of course. Did I tear the Shard of Gith from your chest? Not with pride, but yes and I would do it all again." She paused and then continued in a less defiant tone. "I have done evil for his sake but what do good and evil matter in the face of love? Love will break an oath, shatter a man's faith, and outlive gods. Love endures when your greatest hope is merely to end the suffering of your beloved even if he can never again be yours."
"Love can become twisted into an obsession that spans centuries," Blake replied unforgivingly. "And I hope you are wrong to think me bound to someone who betrayed his god like Akachi or someone who betrayed his country and his family like Ammon Jerro."
"Or that she is right it has been easier for you to control the hunger," commented Gann. "Rather less ego-pleasing than if it was purely your superior willpower."
"Now is not the time Hagspawn," Okku rumbled.
"I have allowed myself to be distracted by your conversation," admitted Blake, "but the Sword of Gith, I ask again, where is it?"
"All that Myrkul told you was true," The Founder replied, slowly shuffling over towards one wall of the room. "He was sadistic and insane, but never a liar… at least not when the truth would serve to wound."
The Founder reached into the wall through an illusion and withdrew a long sliver shape. As she turned and shuffled back towards Blake the torches struck orange glints off the curves and points of the unusually shaped blade. Blake's expression showed his mixed feelings about seeing that sword again.
"At least it is still intact harbour-boy," Neeshka commented quietly to him.
"More intact than it was," replied Blake, also speaking low as he saw the blade better.
"Here is the Sword of Gith," The Founder proclaimed, holding it out. "Its pieces gathered together, the blade reforged as one. It will see you safely through the Betrayer's Gate, to the realm of the dead. I can do nothing more for you… for him."
"Yes, and for that I am grateful," grumbled Blake, taking the sword from her. "What you have done for me is infect me with this curse. What you did for Rashemen is risk my losing control of it so it could ravage that land again."
Blake flicked the Sword of Gith about a little to feel the balance, ignoring the hissing from the homunculi, and then frowned. He carefully supported the blade with his shield hand and examined it more closely, noting the solid metal that had replaced the ghostly sections he'd needed to form with his will through his bond with it.
"Hmm, and what you did for the Sword Coast was perhaps endanger it as well," Blake continued as he straightened and glowered at The Founder. "I have to wonder how many extra pieces of the Sword we could have found had they not been taken these hundreds of leagues away. How much stronger this sword would have been with those and how much that, and the effort it took me to keep the sword from shattering again as I struck, hampered the fight against the King of Shadows."
"If I've earned your vengeance then take it," retorted The Founder, neither looking nor sounding repentant.
"Your crimes do deserve death," Blake replied, drawing in a deep breath as he tried again to put his feelings aside to consider this more dispassionately, "and that you would commit them again, would 'sacrifice a thousand like me', does make you too dangerous to leave alive."
"Yes, I am tired," sighed The Founder, slumping and showing more of her incredible age. "Tired of wrongs oiled one atop another. Tired of hiding from the wrath of those I've wronged." She looked to each homunculi in turn. "Hessa, Jassim… when I am gone, you will let the stranger go in peace. All our work depends on this."
"Are you sure about this harbour-boy?" Neeshka asked, caring very little about the fate of The Founder but concerned about Blake and if he would have regrets.
"In this case he has the right to pass judgement as he did on Myrkul," rumbled Okku.
"Or on the Slumbering Coven," Blake said in weary memory.
"Or on Ammon Jerro," added Gann, not willing to let him forget that.
Okku glanced at Gann and wondered if that 'passing judgement' had been the cause of the tension he had noted before. But with a shrug of his great shoulders the bear-god decided he still did not care enough to ask.
"May Tyr have been guiding me each time," Blake sighed.
"Every labour, every breath has been for him, for love," declared The Founder, creaking down onto her knees and bowing her head. "Let the Gods rant in their halls of gold, such devotion will never be theirs."