Loyalty of the Tiefling

by JHMLYNDALE

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

24. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Blake looked towards the City of Judgement past the corpse of the Dragon who he regretted having had to kill. For a moment he was able to hope that he was mistaken about who had said they had judged him poorly but then Araman came into sight around Sey'ryu's head. The face and the voice were the same but his clothing was very different as he now was in the brown robes of Kelemvor with their measuring scales of judgement rather than the red of the Red Wizards.

Halor turned and glowered at the approaching figure. Despite the robes being of Kelemvor rather than Myrkul it was easy with the grudge he bore to recognise this man. Dwarves were known for their near unshakeable loyalty and it had taken a long time, even with the judgement of the Gods of the dead upon him, for Halor to accept his sentence to serve among the False. Even now he had enough loyalty left to the oath he had sworn to Akachi that had this Blake lad chosen to support the Crusade and found the right words Halor was not sure he'd have been impossible to convince to stand aside.

But man here had piled betrayal on betrayal. As foul as betraying his God to stand with his brother was that could be understood and excused because loyalty to ones Clan and blood was so important. But that those were so important made him betraying his brother's memory so quickly to crawl for mercy and return to Myrkul's service even fouler. He'd shown no loyalty to his God or his Brother and now he seemed to have betrayed Myrkul again and, after centuries of doing his bidding, to have abandoned him for Kelemvor.

"Yes, you did," Blake replied to Araman, deciding to not make any polite appeasement. "I never intended to repeat your brother's mistakes. At least in your refusal to listen you did not kill innocents and on the longer road your hindrance caused I was, perhaps, able to learn more than The Founder wanted me to. Now… what the Hells do you want?"

"I was wrong… and worse, deluded," said Araman, continuing his approach and his words. "I saw only my brother in you, though you are not him…"

"Yes," Blake interrupted, lip twisting into a slight snarl, "throughout this journey people have been 'seeing only' the curse or the actions of previous hosts."

"My soul has laid here imprisoned, as a hostage until I slew the Red Woman or died in the attempt," concluded Araman, stopping his approach to stand level with Halor and Jorin. "You destroyed my body, Blake, so my soul has awakened. Death has freed me of Myrkul. My choices are my own again."

"Which doesn't answer what you are choosing," Blake pointed out, ignoring Halor's snort at death being any excuse for turning your coat, or your robes. "And death freed you from Myrkul?" Araman nodded. "So when you told me your choices were already your own, that Myrkul's spells were only for his own peace of mind, was that an example of you being wrong or deluded? Or simply lying?"

"Ah…" breathed Araman, "deluded I think. It was only when I awoke here and felt the absence of Myrkul's spells that I realised how bound I had still been." Halor chuckled and retreated to let Blake berate Araman in peace. "As to what I am choosing, my first choice is to ask you for help with that…"

Araman gestured and Blake's eyes followed the gesture and he turned, though it was no longer an automatic reaction. He'd learned to not be distracted into shifting his gaze by an enemy suddenly pointing at something behind him. But here he trusted Neeshka to continue regarding Araman with all the suspicion needed and that she would be able to draw and strike with her rapier almost before Araman began whatever trick he might try. This did seem to not be a trick though as shimmering into existence was a flame-rimmed and shadow filled portal. The hills behind it were still visible for now but dimming as the portal became more opaque.

"What is that?" Blake asked, trusting simplicity over eloquence.

"The Supplicant's Gate has been breached," replied Araman, making a slight gesture with his head back towards the gateway, "and the Tanar'ri are massing to follow in the wake of the Crusade and drag thousands of souls into the Abyss… guilty and innocent alike. The Abyssal Lords have waited for this chance as surely as Zoab and the rest."

"Scavengers following the hunters' trail," Okku grumbled in disgust.

"In the first Crusade not a single Demon entered the grey city," explained Araman, "that was Sey'ryu's task. My brother knew they would come and left Sey'ryu at the gate to turn them back. But Zoab instead set the Dragon on you to be killed or injured and thus unable to bar the Demons' way."

"Very well, saving the innocents is worth the delay to fight for," Blake decided, turning back towards Araman. "Join me in this, if you like, but I will be watching you closely and the first sign of treachery and we shall see if the dead can die in the plane of the dead."

"And saving them is something we can fight together for," added Halor. "You got any fancier ideas than just hitting them?"

"Not that Okku would agree there is anything wrong with just hitting them," Blake said in a distracted way as he looked around. He sighed. "As much as I regret her death Sey'ryu does make quite a barricade. If Syrune, Nilon, and your crossbowman and wizard can find footholds partway up the other side of her then that will give them some cover and some height to see and loose or cast over and past us."

Those people looked dubious until Halor nodded.

Blake continued, more to himself. "I'd regret not having some of those Orglash Essences left if…" He raised his voice again as thinking of how the Demons would shrug off most of that cold reminded him of the other ways in which they were tough. "Nilon, your fire arrows won't be as effective here and nor will your Storm of Vengeance Syrune. If not able to completely ignore fire and acid most Demons can at least partially and, like Sey'ryu, lightning does nothing to them."

The portal continued to grow as Blake looked to Araman. "Araman, can you add magic to those spears?."

Halor grunted in surprise and glanced between them. He was sure this was Eveshi, Akachi's brother, from recognising him and what had been said. Why was the lad calling him Araman? Though he had a vague recollection that Myrkul's priests had renamed children put in their care and that the brothers had nicknames for each other so perhaps that was it? He shrugged and decided that it didn't matter what you called a traitor, it was just as foul.

"I did not prepare much," Araman replied.

"As long as you can enhance one," nodded Blake, looking to Gann and Neeshka. "Gann, I want you to give Neeshka her shortbow and arrows back and take a spear and three of those four men to form the left flank. If the Demons expose their sides or backs to you…"

"Or indeed their backsides…" Gann commented, unhooking the quiver from his belt.

"I was going to say 'then try to take advantage'…" continued Blake after a pause. "But I want you to mostly stay there and block them." Blake looked more towards his beloved. "Neeshka, I want you to join the others on Sey'ryu."

Neeshka frowned as she took her weapons back. "I'd rather stay close to you harbour-boy."

"He does seem to need you to save him distressingly often," Gann commented again.

"As glad as I am when you are close, my darling," smiled Blake to Neeshka, ignoring Gann, "myself and Okku and Halor would be forming a wall rather than being able to take advantage of your speed and grace." Blake stopped and looked to Jorin. "Though I've not accounted for you in my plans…"

"I'd not be good with a spear, or standing still alongside you, or up on Sey'ryu," Jorin supplied. "My intent was to move around and try to make myself useful where needed. Your lady here seems swift enough to keep up so I would accept the company and assistance with that if she wishes to offer it."

"Neeshka?" asked Blake.

"My rapier would hurt them more than my bow," Neeshka replied, "and I'd rather be down here and at least closer to you."

Blake knew he'd rather that she was not, that she was further out of harm' way, but he nodded. "You and Jorin harass them from our right then."

"A question," Gann said. "Whose spear should I take for Araman here to enhance?"

Looking across Blake saw that all four of the militiamen were holding onto their spears with the air of men determined to not be disarmed. "Which of you is best with a crossbow?"

After a brief exchange of glances and nods one of those in chainmail stepped forward. "That would be me," he said. Blake's eyes narrowed a little and the militiaman found himself adding. "Sir."

"Neeshka, lend him the crossbow we found in the Ashenwood," Blake said, looking to his sweetheart before returning his gaze to the militiaman. "Don't be fooled that it's a light crossbow, the bolts it makes for itself have far more chance of injuring a Demon than normal ones launched from a heavy crossbow."

Happy that he was not going to be left unarmed and that he was going to get off the front line the militiaman relinquished his spear to Gann. "I never did understand why you kept that," commented Gann, feeling the spear's balance as Neeshka searched in her bag, "as rarely as you use your bows. Though I suppose it not needing ammunition does make it more convenient."

"More convenient in that way, my friend," Blake replied, "and more convenient if you want to be crouched behind a parapet while you load, or lying down in long grass while you load and loose. Even a shortbow would need you to be at least kneeling while you draw it."

Neeshka found the light crossbow and handed it over to the militiaman. As he took it in his hands and felt it vibrating in his grip he nearly dropped it. "Whoa!" he said with great eloquence.

"The bolts it creates fly very true as they are more like an Orb of Sound in that shape than a normal crossbow bolt," Blake told him, giving him a briefing on the weapon. "If you hit something you will hurt it badly, but you will have to allow for the crossbow's vibration." Blake glanced over his shoulder at the portal and nodded. "You should have time for a few practice shots before you join the others on Sey'ryu."

"Yes, sir," replied the Militiaman, with far less hesitation over the 'sir'. He cranked the light crossbow, smiling at the bolt appearing, and loosed that bolt at a nearby boulder. That his shot was off centre annoyed him, but as much as that dimmed his smile it was brightened again by seeing the crater the bolt had left. "Whoa," he breathed again with satisfaction.

Blake looked to where Araman was making a few spells on the spear Gann had been lent. As the chanting finished Blake spoke. "Araman, do you have any armour under those robes?" he asked.

"I do not," Araman replied, sounding a little suspicious as to why Blake might be asking.

"Then join the others on Sey'ryu and use your spells in support."

Blake gave the departing Araman a glower at the tone of his reply. That had been a perfectly valid question since some of his allies back at the Sanctum had been wearing scale-mail beneath their robes of Myrkul. Blake would have preferred to find the answer to whether Araman was armoured in the same manner of slashing a weapon through the robes and seeing if it would slice into unprotected flesh, so he would have appreciated not being further tempted towards that method. He looked back to the other three militiamen.

"And you men get in line with Gann."

The two scale-mail clad and one chainmail clad men began to move but one of those in scale-mail also began to grumble. "Who's he to give us orders?"

"Halor is accepting it," the main in chainmail pointed out, "and they are making sense. So shut up and soldier, soldier."

"At least we can see why he's so familiar with Demons…" chuckled the other man in scale-mail, leering at Neeshka as she and Jorin moved across to the right. He chuckled again and explained his joke. "Intimately familiar if you know what I mean…"

Hearing the comment Blake slammed his sword into its scabbard and approached. The chuckles stopped to be replaced by a look of concern. Blake put a smile on his face and clapped his gauntlet down on the man's shoulder between neck and pauldron. "Friend, I know…" he said, clamping down with all the strength his training and belt of strength gave him, "you are not insulting the woman I love, or mistaking my regret over killing Sey'ryu for reluctance to kill those who insult Neeshka."

"N… No," the militiaman managed to say through the pain in his shoulder. "That would be unwise."

Blake relaxed his grip slightly. "Or mistaking that I would prefer two good soldiers to three if one of those could not keep his mind on his duty," he said, looking to the other scale-mail clad man and adding. "Or one to three if another is insubordinate."

"That would be even more foolish," that man agreed, though that agreement did not reach his eyes. He reminded Blake of the corrupt City Watchmen who made the right words but had no conviction behind them and would betray their duty at the first chance or first offer of sufficient gold.

Satisfied that he had their obedience for now and that might be long enough Blake released his grip and stepped back. "Then let us defend this city. Agreed?"

The militiamen looked at each other again and nodded. Okku bared his teeth at them and rumbled in amusement at how much, for all their laws and customs, these two-legged creatures followed the same rules of an Alpha having to assert his dominance over new pack members. "A shame little-one. Dragon tastes foul and so does Demon. A different flavour to get one out of my mouth before the other might have been welcome."

"And it would have afforded us a spare spear," Gann added, "or two."

"Though with the wounds his clumsy great lump of a sword inflicts," grinned Neeshka, "wouldn't have been any spare armour."

Blake nodded, more to Gann, and looked across to Neeshka who blushed deeply at his smile. Her ears had caught Okku's comment about the taste of Demon and she realised her harbour-boy was thinking how much nicer Devil mixed with mortal to make a Tiefling tasted. Reluctantly Blake dragged his eyes and thoughts away from her and back to the portal. The flames around its edge brightened in contrast to how the darkness within then deepened and as this became more solid Blake saw some shapes forming in the dark swirling energy.

"Positions," Blake ordered, drawing his sword. "Here they come!"

The man they'd given the light crossbow to hurriedly began jogging back towards Sey'ryu, leaving several craters behind him in his target boulder. Blake felt a flush of annoyance that the man was not already there and that he'd been distracted enough by the other militiamen to not notice this. Neeshka drew her rapier and gave Blake a smile and a fencing flourish from the right as he and Halor took positions either side of Okku more directly ahead of the portal. Meanwhile Gann chose charm rather than intimidation to get the spearmen in line, as he preferred that to snarling like old-father-bear.

"Please don't charge, god-of-bears," Blake muttered as the forms became more distinct. "Let them come to us and suffer the injuries those on Sey'ryu can inflict."

"I will meet them little-one," rumbled Okku before relenting slightly, "but… I will wait until they are closer before I spring upon them."

Out of the portal shuffled a Hezrou, and then another, and then a third. They were each tall enough to tower over the defenders but with how broad and stocky they were 'tower' seemed the wrong word. 'Wall' seemed more apt for them and especially for three standing almost in a line. Short legs shuffled and long arms flexed as they looked around with their small deep-set eyes. The spines on their backs were visible against the sky as these came up over their hunchbacked shoulders, though did not continue along their thick forward thrust necks with the relatively small heads.

From behind Blake the people there loosed their first volley. The sling bullet simply vanished into the thick Demon flesh and though it did not pierce as deeply the folds of flesh on the Hezrou were almost enough to swallow the length of the crossbow bolt as well. Nilon hissed in irritation as he saw his arrow barely piece his target and that, unlike with the Dragon on whose corpse he stood, it was untroubled by how the arrow was burning within the wound. Araman was more successful with the Greater Missile Storm he cast as its missiles burned craters into the Hezrou. But most successful was the militiaman with the light crossbow. The bolt pierced the thick hide to release its concussive sound within and the Demon actually staggered as flesh bubbled outwards and burst to form a considerable hole.

"Good shot," said the crossbowman with an envious look at his comrade's weapon.

"Thanks," the other militiaman replied, deciding to not admit he had been aiming for the one in the centre rather than the one on the left that he'd hit.

Blake noted the hit and was glad both that they'd kept that light crossbow and that Hezrou were wide enough that three of them were hard to miss even while you were getting used to its vibration. He wondered about a spell of Cacophonic Burst as the effectiveness of the immaterial bolt had confirmed these Demons were vulnerable to sonic energy. Then the Hezrou started forward and Blake decided instead to concentrate on his breathing and his balance and his sword to be ready to meet them. As the enemy waddled towards them more missiles streaked past overhead and into them though these were not as effective as Blake had hoped. With the exception of Araman's second spell of Greater Missile Storm and another hit from the light crossbow they seemed to be ignoring the barrage.

The Hezrou's disdain for the attacks was clear to the Militia Wizard as well and his nerves gained the better of his judgement. He knew this was probably only the first wave of Demons and that more powerful ones might follow. But the Hezrou seemed quite powerful enough for him. Despite the relative smallness of their heads their teeth still looked capable of biting him in half, and their throats thick enough they could swallow him whole if they decided not to chew. These Demons needed to be destroyed now, before they got any closer, and that would not only be saving him… it would be saving the plan.

Fuelled with that excuse and the power of the Weave the Militia Wizard drew on Mystra's blessings and cast one of his most powerful spells. Rocks streaked down from the grey in response to his call and trailing fire they slammed into the Hezrou in a Meteor Swarm. This was quite a flexible spell as you could devastate an area outside a radius around you or aim the meteors at a single target but the Militia Wizard had chosen the third option of pelting a certain area. As the rocks struck the ground or bounced off the Hezrou into the ground a pall of dust began to rise and the broad figures become blurred within it.

Blake squinted as he tried to see through the dust. The arrows and bolts and bullets were no longer flying as the people on Sey'ryu could not see to aim. Blake would have preferred them to keep going as the Hezrou were in that cloud somewhere and it was unlikely that they'd run out of ammunition. It was impossible in the case of the light crossbow that was actually hurting them and Blake had the impression the Hin, Nilon, had not been carrying a quiver so his bow might also be feeding itself. Before Blake could decide whether to order them to start loosing blind the dust cleared and that became unnecessary.

The Hezrou were looking battered, which was good but what was less good was that they had used the cover of the dust to summon a Succubus each. That breed of Demon might be better suited to the bedchamber than the battlefield but, as fragile as they looked, Blake had seen them tearing Hellhounds and skilled Githyanki warriors apart. Their preference might be to use their impossible beauty to charm mortals into doing their bidding but if that failed then their slender and apparently delicate bare hands sufficed to rip through armour and flesh with ease.

Two of the Hezrou plodded back into motion towards Blake and Okku and Halor while another Hezrou and a Succubus moved towards Gann and his spearmen and the final two Succubi began slinking towards Jorin and Neeshka. Araman muttered from his position on Sey'ryu and the thin white line of a Polar Ray connected him to the lone Hezrou. He knew that the Demon would shrug off some of the effects but also knew the spell was sufficiently powerful there would still be a lot to get through. To Araman's satisfaction the Hezrou staggered and more of a gap opened up between it and the Succubus.

As the Succubus approached him at the end of the line the Militiaman readied himself to thrust out with his spear, trying to ignore the Demon's appearance and the slight twinge in his shoulder where it had been crushed. Seeing his muscles tense and his posture shift the Succubus pouted. "Aww," she crooned in a very sultry and disappointed voice, "don't you like me? I was hoping we could be… friends."

Almost against his will the Militiaman felt his eyes follow the motion of the Succubus' hands as she stroked them lightly up across her belly, fingertips playing across the exposed flesh within the V of her outfit while her palms smoothed what little cloth there was against her body. His spear wavered as she pushed her shoulders back slightly and arched her back a little to thrust out her, literally, infernally attractive breasts. The inner curves of them were already visible but then his eyes glazed as her hands got high enough and she lightly cupped and pushed them together a fraction to bring even more of them into view.

The Succubus' pout changed to a predatory smile as one hand came away from a breast and down to her side. Deceptively slender muscles tensed to bring her demonic fingernails clawing up and through the scale mail and the belly beneath. But even the Militiaman's imminent disembowelling was not enough to break the spell, that was left to Gann and his spear and him stabbing the Succubus in the side of the neck. The man blinked and looked dazed as the Demon staggered back, hissing in pain and rage and the hand that would have gutted him now grabbing at her neck wound rather than his innards.

"Oh, please," Gann said, sounding slightly disgusted. "At least you had better taste when you were ogling Lady Neeshka. Though not more sense, you should remind me to tell you what happened to a fellow called Fyldrin of the Eleven Chairs."

The Militiaman glanced across past the still advancing Hezrou to the right flank. "No need," he muttered as he saw what had happened during his relatively brief distraction.

One of the pair of Succubi there was already fading as she 'died' and returned to the Abyss, leaving nothing but a patch of stained dirt and the memory for the militiaman of how many wounds had been inflicted on the Demon in that very brief time. He wanted to believe that he was not as vulnerable. Believe that his scale mail would have provided him more protection than the few scraps of cloth those Demons wore. But a pang of fear still went up his spine at the thought of what might have happened if this 'Lady Neeshka' had taken enough offence.

Jorin snapped a kick into the side of the knee of the second Succubus and with a distinct crunch she started to fall. Neeshka reacted and swept her rapier up, using her own strength and the momentum of the fall to slice it across the Demon's neck. As always Neeshka was very precise in her blow and this precision and the sharpness of her thin blade opened the Succubus' neck almost to the spine. As the dying Demon sprawled on her back and wings Jorin stamped one heel down onto her chest between her ample breasts. Against most foes that would have cracked the sternum and burst their heart and though the Succubus was too tough to be killed by it she was not tough enough to not be stunned by it. A moment later Neeshka's rapier stabbed down as Jorin's foot withdrew and pierced the Demon's damaged breastbone. Whether she did have a heart there or not this seemed enough to finish her and the Succubus began to fade.

The Hezrou to Blake's right found itself with a god-of-bears springing at it as Okku's patience ended. A moment later the one to the left had similar problems as Halor also charged with a Dwarven war cry. Blake didn't follow as he'd had them to his left between him and Gann, since his concern had been to keep an eye on Neeshka. They were both tough enough he could take a moment to assess how the fight was going and looking at the scene and judging distances Blake began to cast a spell rather than choose a Hezrou to receive the benefit of his sword.

A huge fist swung in at Gann who stabbed a shallow wound into the Hezrou's arm as it passed. "Keep in line, keep moving back, slowly."

"Sir," the chainmail clad militiaman said, in the same tone used by generations of veteran Sergeants trying to… respectfully… advise inexperienced officers. "Might I suggest we try encircling it rather than staying in a straight line? Take advantage of that it seems to still be a little slower than normal? Before the effects wear off."

"Good advice," replied Gann, before dashing the militiaman's hopes again, "but not yet." A bolt from the light crossbow streaked in and struck a glancing blow across the top of the Hezrou's shoulders, the explosion of sound uprooting one of the thicker spines as the bolt barely dug in at its base. The Hezrou turned slightly and the militiamen stirred in eagerness to take advantage of that distraction. "Not yet," Gann repeated, "that was not what I was hoping for."

"Yes, sir," grumbled the militiaman, thinking you should use what you got rather than what you wanted.

Okku went for the throat of the Hezrou but, though the Demon staggered back a little, it was very solid and managed to catch him short of his goal. They wrestled for a few moments, broad Demon feet and narrower bear-god paws digging into the dirt. Then the Hezrou managed to overbalance Okku and they both slammed down to the ground with the Demon managing to land on top. A meaty demonic fist smashed into the side of the bear-god's head but that just made Okku snarl in anger. He released his rage by using how he was braced against the ground to thrust and rake both back paws' claws across the Hezrou's belly with all strength of his thighs and back. Tough Demon flesh tore as the spirit-sharp claws dug into the Hezrou and threw it up and back and away off the god-of-bears.

His first attempt at the spell had been spoiled as Halor and the Hezrou he was chopping into pieces moved into his line of sight but a few quick strides had solved that problem and Blake had tried again. This time he completed and a ray of Disintegrate hissed from his hand and carved into the Hezrou's back as it started to swing another blow at Gann and the other spearmen. Demon flesh writhed and tore apart to leave nothing but a crater where the magic had struck and spread. Thrown off balance by the pain and the loss of those muscles' support the Hezrou fell onto one knee and, thanks to the length of its arm, one elbow.

"That was what I was hoping for," Gann said with a smile to the grumpy veteran militiaman, "so let us, now, do as you wisely suggested."

The militiaman did no more than nod, but he and the others began to spread out to surround the fallen Demon as it tried to rise despite the chunk missing from its back. The Hezrou facing Halor was having a similar problem but rather than finding it difficult to stand because of a wound to its back it was because there was not much of its legs that remained unwounded. Blood pulsed from deep cuts in its calves and knees and thighs and Halor was glad that most Demons, except Succubi who had their reason to need such, didn't have genitals as the view would have been especially unpleasant at his height. Though at least those would have made a good target. With that cheery thought his Dwarven Waraxe thunked into Demon flesh again and the Hezrou staggered even more.

Okku prowled towards the Hezrou he had nearly disembowelled. It was desperately trying to hold its guts in with one hand but the wounds Okku had inflicted were too long so some still dangled from behind this and blood seeped between its fingers. There was a flicker of motion so Okku roared to keep the Demon's attention. The Hezrou's other hand moved in a circling motion as it reacted and shifted its right arm to punch or defend. Then Jorin jumped and punched it in the left upper arm where the nerve fed down from the shoulder into it and despite the Hezrou's thick skin and flesh succeeded in numbing that arm.

Against the Hezrou's will its left arm relaxed and dropped to its side, releasing the pressure it had been applying against its innards and letting them slump further out of its belly wounds. The Demon started to bring its right hand in to try to hold or push them back again but before it could Okku struck. His right forepaw raked across to slice fresh wounds at almost right angles to the previous ones. The sharpness of Okku's claws almost worked against him as had they been a little blunter then they might have caught in the edges of those slightly older cuts and torn them wider rather than cutting through. However the bear-god still rumbled in satisfaction as the Demon collapsed.

The other Hezrou had also collapsed as its abused legs could no longer take any more axe wounds. All three of the massive Demons were now no longer on their feet and after deciding Gann could handle things on the left flank Blake had joined Halor. Axe blows were raining down on the Hezrou and lopping great chunks away from it as Halor treated it like a tree that needed to be broken into smaller pieces to fuel the forges. Blake tried to be more precise and to cut deeper to try to strike its vitals but as Neeshka joined her harbour-boy she demonstrated what true precision was. Everywhere she struck blood spurted from the deep wound as she found a major blood vessel.

As Gann and the others tried to finish off the Hezrou that had been attacking them they found a new problem. Or rather the return of the older one. Her hand still clamped to her neck the Succubus moved back in to try to strike at the back of the Militiaman she had nearly killed before. He turned at the last moment and managed to dance back so her clawed fingernails just barely grazed him. Even that light contact was enough to send a few of the protective metal scales glittering away from just below the centre of his chest.

Maybe it was the fear from that narrow escape or maybe it was the rage on the Succubus' face making her appear that much more demonic and that much less desirable. Or perhaps it was that unless you were a Vampire even the most perfectly formed breasts became far less appealing when coated in fresh blood. But for whatever reason that Militiaman found it a lot easier to concentrate on his training and to neatly stab his spear outwards and into the bare exposed flesh. As the Succubus' face contorted in pain he reminded himself was striking down a Demon and not an unarmed and unarmoured woman. While his mind grappled with this his training had kept his hands and arms working. They twisted the spear within the wound and dumped the Succubus back to land on the dead grey soil and begin to fade a moment before her Hezrou master.

Okku rumbled in satisfaction as his opponent also 'died' and began to return to the Abyss but that satisfaction became disappointment as he saw the third was also fading rather than needing his attentions. "A pleasant, if brief diversion, little-one."

"Not over yet, my friend," Blake replied, gesturing towards the portal, "look…"

His eyes following the gesture Okku expression became happier as he saw more forms were solidifying within the portal. During his long sleep within his barrow he had almost forgotten the joys of battle and he was nearly as grateful to the little one for giving him the chance to remember these as he was for the chance to fulfil his oath. The bear-god did not want too much delay in ending this but neither did he want to miss the chance of further testing himself against more Demons.

Blake looked about and then shouted, "Positions!" Lowering his voice he muttered to himself. "That could have gone better."

"No it couldn't, lad," Halor said, overhearing this. Blake glanced to him as they moved back and Halor continued. "It could have gone more as you planned, but they are all dead and we are not, and compared with that how it happened doesn't matter."

"He has been spoiled by the company of a god-of-bears," rumbled Okku with some pride, "into expecting not only victory but victory in the expected manner. A god-of-bears whose might has grown along with his faith that they will end the curse and will prevail…" Okku paused and looked at Halor as he added with his usual lack of subtlety. "Past any obstacle."

"Let's finish this," Halor replied with Dwarven courtesy, "then ye can see if your confidence is not over generous."

Okku growled at the idea that any amount of confidence would be too much for a god-of-bears, but did not speak again as they retreated the short distance they had advanced from Sey'ryu's corpse to meet the Hezrou. The portal shimmered, the forms within it solidified, and it disgorged three more Hezrou. Or perhaps they were the same ones as Blake was unsure how long they had to remain in the Abyss after being 'killed' before they could return to where that 'killing' had happened. Okku made a disappointed rumble as he had hoped for something new to play with.

"Ach. More of those," said Halor, sharing Okku's displeasure. "Though at least no willies hanging down into my face."

"They might be female," Blake pointed out. "Or formerly female at least."

"Hah," snorted Halor, "how can you tell?"

"Learned once that a Balor's dirty secret was that his mother was a Hezrou," Blake replied, adding in case it was needed, "a Demon of a lower rank."

"Oh, don't remind me of Zaxis," pleaded Neeshka. A little surprised Blake turned to her and she grinned to him. "I know, 'positions'," she said before bounding off.

As Neeshka swiftly moved to join Jorin arrows and bolts and bullets began to fly and into the Hezrou. Not to be outdone by Blake with spellcasting Araman cast a Disintegrate of his own. This burned a hole in the central Hezrou, which was unfortunate enough to be struck an instant later by a bolt from the light crossbow and then another instant later have the mist of a Horrid Wilting appear around it as the Militia Wizard finished casting this. The 'plants' spewed their yellow dust and the Hezrou collapsed from the combination of hits but those to either side of it ignored how their flash was also parched by the moisture being leeched from it. Compared with the effects of the Hells this was nearly as easy to tolerate. Compared with the punishment they'd risk for failure this was almost pleasant.

The pair of Hezrou stepped forward and Syrune considered casting Bombardment to catch all three with falling rocks. This was not quite as powerful as the Meteor Swarm the Militia Wizard had cast but it was still powerful enough to inflict a considerable battering. But that same useful level of power made her reluctant to use it when as much as they were allied for the moment they might still have to later fight the holder of Akachi's essence.

Blake was a moment late casting his Cacophonic Burst and the ball of pure sound burst against the pair of Hezrou rather than the already more seriously wounded one. It was not a complete surprise to him that the spell did little more than stagger them back a little, and cause one to nearly trip over the fallen one, as he did remember what Grobnar had said when they were blowing up the bridges. Or at least he remembered how Grobnar had warned that if things just exploded against something a lot of the force could be lost. The difference between his Cacophonic Burst striking against the Hezrou's thick skin and the bolts burying themselves a little way into that before releasing their sonic energy proved this applied to more than just bridges.

More bolts and arrows and bullets streaked across into the Hezrou as the fallen one managed to stand and shuffled back into position between the other two. That was as far as they moved though. The trio of Demons just stood there near the portal and continued to endure the attacks they were under. Snail tracks of blood formed down across them from the small deep holes the sling bullets were making in their tough flesh. Arrows from Nilon's shortbow and bolts from the militiaman's heavy crossbow started to jut out of them like misplaced smaller spines. Ripples wobbled across their folds of thick skin as the light crossbow's immaterial bolts pierced into them and released their sonic energy.

Blake frowned and cast a Greater Missile Storm. Araman followed suit and then, looking embarrassed at the contrast in the power of the spells, the Militia Wizard cast Magic Missile. The missiles curved out and into the Hezrou from the different angles that made them hard to dodge or block. Still though the Demons did not move despite these fresh wounds burned into them. "What are they…" Blake started to say before breaking off and pondering for a moment. "Even if that portal will disgorge reinforcements, and they are at least blocking our sight of it, they are getting quite badly hurt just standing there…"

"Hrm, little-one," murmured Okku. "Would that matter to their masters?"

"No," Blake replied. "And those masters might hope we'll run out of ammunition or spells. The former is not likely but the latter is more… what the Hells?"

A column of light had streaked down from the dead grey sky and struck and splashed over the Hezrou. The tips of their spines smouldered a little from being first to meet the divine energy of the Hammer of the Gods and the Demons swayed, especially the one in the middle of their line, before swiftly recovering. Blake turned and looked at Araman before nodding to himself and turning back to look at the Hezrou.

"Of course," muttered Blake, "he was a Priest of Myrkul, so of course he has prayers as well as the arcane magic to be a Red Wizard."

"Ach, so that's what he's been doing?" Halor commented, overhearing this and then adding a warning. "But don't get distracted lad."

Blake nodded to him. "I think we shall have to change our plans," he said, then raised his voice so the other groups could hear him. "Advance!"

"So much for letting them come to us, little-one," rumbled Okku as they began to move.

"If there is something nastier waiting to come through I'd prefer to have as many spells as we can, and maybe a few moments to rest and recover our breath. Not that either of those matter to a god-of-bears."

"I don't breathe, it is harder to make me need rest," agreed Okku, "and my claws and teeth do not run out of sharpness."

At a steady walk Blake and Okku and Halor moved forward towards the three Hezrou. Gann and his spearman to their left and Neeshka and Jorin to their right also began to move around to keep their position on the flanks. Blake began to have a few qualms as they advanced. If this was an attempt to use these Hezrou to soak up all their ammunition and spells then why had they not summoned anything? Though the Succubi had died quite swiftly when plunged into battle rather than seduction the speed of their defeat spoke more of the skill of their foes than of them being too weak to at least take a few hits.

As the gap narrowed the rain of arrows and bullets and crossbow bolts petered out. First to stop was the militiaman with the vibrating light crossbow as though he was getting used to it he still had less faith in its accuracy than its power, so it was more likely he'd hit an ally and far more likely that hit would be serious. Last to stop was Nilon as he did not care much whether he hit 'allies' that were too stupid to stay out of his way and he had a lot of faith in his accuracy. He was fortunate that Neeshka had declined to be on Sey'ryu as had she been there she would have been better able to judge how close he was aiming to her harbour-boy. Moreover the way she would have expressed her displeasure with that would likely have been a painful one for the Hin.

The Hezrou glared at Blake and Halor and Okku with their little piggy eyes and then shuffled into motion to meet them. Seeing that mistake Blake smiled slightly. "They'd have been better off trying to keep the portal at their back. Let us try a fake charge to give the others an opening first."

"Bah," protested Halor. "Fine. Fake it is."

The three of them charged and with surprising speed considering the relative shortness of their legs the Hezrou charged back. "Now," Blake said, judging distances and flinging his torso back to lean against the momentum he'd built up.

Halor also stopped and their boots dug into the loose grey soil to send dust and a few clumps of dead mud ahead of them. Okku though did not even attempt to slow down and continued on, alone, at full speed to fling himself at the heavily wounded central Hezrou. Halor looked at this and then at Blake, who he could better see now there was no longer a huge mound of spirit-fur and flesh between them.

"Did he no get the message?" Halor asked.

"God-of-bears," smiled Blake ruefully.

With the wounds the Hezrou had already suffered its strength was less equal to the task of wrestling Okku and the bear-god's charge staggered it back. Alone it would have soon fallen but it was not alone and the other two Demons started to move around to where they could strike and grab at Okku. Then this was interrupted as the one on the left made a noise of pain as a spear plunged into the right side of its waist, and then a second into its right thigh, a third into the small of its back, and a fourth into where a mortal would have its left kidney. The one on the right started to react to this but its left knee bent under it as it was kicked in the back of it and then it felt a cut appear across its left upper arm as it fell backwards.

Okku pushed the central Hezrou back, rode it down as it toppled, and then bit at it before jumping back off it. He spat out a lump of something before rumbling in satisfaction. "I think that gave them an opening, little-one."

Blake nodded as he looked at the scene and moved forward with Halor to assist. The Hezrou in the centre was now trying to sit up without moving its left hand away from pressing against where a chunk of its neck was missing. To the right Neeshka was hampering the other Hezrou's attempts to rise by darting in and slicing at its forearm as it tried to turn and push itself up. The one on the left was in less trouble as despite its wounds it had not fallen or been knocked down. It twisted its body to its right, heedless of worsening the wounds, and the spear in the small of its back had not been withdrawn in time.

The drag on his spear staggered the scale-mail clad militiaman who had questioned Blake's right to give orders into the chainmail clad one to his left. Gann and the other scale-mail clad militiaman stepped back a little as the Hezrou continued to turn. Its intent seemed to be to strike at the two militiamen while they were still entangled but as it got halfway around to being able to do this Gann drove his spear into its guts. Even with Araman's magic on it this did not piece or cut as deep as Gann had hoped and he felt a moment of annoyance at Sey'ryu's discourtesy in breaking his spear as she died.

Halor hacked at the back of that Hezrou's left knee that it had turned towards him and the unentangled scale-mail clad militiaman tried to emulate Gann in stabbing and withdrawing. Before Halor could strike again with his Waraxe the central Hezrou lunged forward and almost managed to sit upright. As it fell back it flailed out with its right arm and managed to connect with Halor with the back of that hand. This thump staggered and winded him a little despite his armour and Dwarven toughness. Okku pounced and landed on the arm to pin it to the ground. Cautious of the Hezrou to the right Blake moved up the left side of the central Hezrou and sliced his sword across its thigh, hoping both that this breed of Demon had major blood vessels there and to hit one.

The left Hezrou was off balance with its freshly wounded knee and the pain in its guts and back. It was not falling but its turn was even clumsier than its normal lack of grace. The delay caused by the attacks had given the two militiamen time to get out of each other's way and move back out of the reach of the Demon's back-swung right arm. Gann moved in again, his own movement to his right and the Demon's turn putting him almost behind it. Taking advantage of this he stabbed up and into the rear of the Hezrou's left shoulder. The militiaman that had managed to stay at his side stabbed low and at the already wounded left knee.

Blake was disappointed with how little blood was coming from the wound he'd inflicted as either he'd missed his mark or there was no mark to hit. Dismissing that for the moment he turned his attention to the rightmost Hezrou. He had rather mixed feelings about the Demon since as much as he appreciated not being attacked by it he did not appreciate that this was because it was trying to attack Neeshka. The Hezrou had decided to roll more on its left side to stand and turn facing more towards her and had managed to get up onto its left knee and hand and drive her back with a sweep of its huge right arm.

Neeshka had managed to inflict a shallow cut on this arm as it passed by and there was even more compensation to be found. Turning towards her had turned its back to Blake and he took advantage of this to put his body behind an unsubtle attack and drive his sword deep into the Hezrou's torso. As it was still supporting itself on its left hand its body was tilted as well as turned away from him and so Blake's horizontal thrust went 'up' under its ribs on its right side. Its back arched and its right hand came back to grab at the wound and the sword that had inflicted it.

"Little-one!" Okku warned.

Blake's head and eyes turned from watching the Hezrou grope for him as he worked his sword around in the wound. To his surprise the central Hezrou had taken its left hand off its neck to grab at him rather than continue to hold its neck. The amount of blood that was now coming from that wound made Blake unsure if that had been a good decision by the Demon but more important for now was that its thick fingers had closed around his Tower Shield. The leather straps looping from that shield around Blake's forearm creaked slightly as the Hezrou's arm flexed and it started to try to drag and shake Blake about.

As the chainmail clad militiaman stabbed and withdrew again against the Hezrou on the left Halor came changing back in. He'd recovered his wind and though these people were doing as well as could be expected with their carving-knives-on-sticks it was time for some proper fighting and some more axe work. Gann thrust his spear forward and then had to abruptly pull it back and aside as a Dwarf appeared in front of him. This did draw the Hezrou's attention so Gann looked to the militiamen and made pushing motions at them.

The Hezrou to the right wanted to grab at its back and pull the blade from it, and preferably while doing that also pull the arm from the mortal. But more than either of those wants it wanted to not be blinded by this annoyingly fast and Devil-blooded female. Neeshka sprang in again, her rapier flickering out to menace the Hezrou's eyes and once more it had to hurriedly bring its right arm back to protect its face. Another thin line of blood appeared on its forearm behind the tip of her rapier as she inflicted yet another long shallow wound along it.

Meanwhile Blake was bracing himself not only with his feet against the ground but also against his sword where it remained embedded. He was definitely feeling the strain across his chest and in his legs from acting as a living link, but it meant the Hezrou were working against each other a little. The one trying to get up and defend itself was being anchored by the weight of the other and the one trying to ignore how blood was pouring from its throat couldn't pull Blake too far off balance while he was braced by the one trying to get up. However if they both pulled too hard in opposite directions this could be more than just a strain.

Blake grunted as Neeshka's latest attack met more success and the right Hezrou twisted first to try to avoid the blow at the last moment and then in agony as her rapier blinded one of its eyes. Hearing this grunt Okku decided the central Hezrou managing to free its right arm was a lesser risk than if he didn't move from where he had been securely immobilising it. The bear-god pivoted the front of his body and, before the Demon could react, brought his left forepaw back down onto its arm and his right forepaw onto its chest. Fresh blood welled from where his claws dug in but the thickness of the skin and flesh made these fairly superficial wounds.

Unfortunately for the Hezrou these were not intended to wound. Their purpose was to hold the Demon still and, the right forepaw especially, give Okku grip to push against as he thrust his great head forward and slightly right and his jaws closed on the unwounded side of the Hezrou's neck. Thick neck and shoulder muscles of spirit-flesh bunched and released as Okku twisted his head from side to side and worked his teeth deeper. The Hezrou's grip on Blake's shield released in pain and Blake took advantage of this to pull his sword back out of the enlarged wound in the right Hezrou and retreat out of grabbing range.

To the left the Hezrou there tried again to hit Halor and then swept its arms in from either side in a deadly hug. Halor took a few quick steps back to avoid this and the Hezrou stepped forward in pursuit as it drew its arms back to its sides, hands spread ready to grab and muscles tensed to punch or swing them forward. But it paid the price for its narrow focus on smashing the Dwarf as Gann and the militiamen stepped in and pain blossomed along its forward thrust neck. For a moment they kept their spearheads in place, two on either side of the neck, and though this was more with surprise than strength held the Hezrou still.

At Gann's command the spears and the militiamen and Gann pulled back and, as they stepped away, Halor stepped back in and brought his Dwarven Waraxe in a vertical overarm arc straight into the Hezrou's face. The sharp thick blade thunked into the thick jawbone and the thinner bone of the bridge of the nose and cut deep between the Demon's eyes through this and flesh and cartilage. The Hezrou reared back away from the blow, shaking its head and spraying the remains of teeth and fragments of bone and blood from its face and either side of its neck. This predictable reaction would have torn the spears from their grasp or staggered the militiamen, though perhaps not Gann, if they had tried to continue to hold the Demon for a follow up blow.

Half blind and with blood pulsing from the wounds on its right arm and the deep wound in the right of its waist the rightmost Hezrou staggered to its feet. Jorin had been hanging back to give Neeshka room for her deadly dance but he saw a chance and tried a kick to the side of the Demon's left knee. This did not work as well as against the human sized knee of the Succubus or when he'd kicked the back of this thick joint but he let himself be propelled back by his own blow and thus easily avoid the clumsy backhand sweep of the Hezrou's left arm.

Its right arm had also come up a little in balance as it twisted and Neeshka glided in and stabbed up diagonally into the armpit, withdrawing and retreating almost before the Hezrou could feel the pain of the sharp blade and the magic discharging from it. Blake moved back in and sliced his sword across the back of the Hezrou's right thigh. As the thick skin and muscles parted the Demon began to stagger back and Blake got out of the way again.

Seeing this from the corner of his eye Okku wrenched his head back to tear an even larger wound in the right side of the central Hezrou's neck than he had in the left. He took the time to spit out that chunk of Demonflesh and then to give the Hezrou a swipe from his left forepaw across the right side of its face as he turned and backed. Then a second or two after the bear-god had moved clear the rightmost Hezrou fell backwards onto the central one as its stumbling heel met the other's left forearm where it had lain limp since its grip had released from Blake's shield.

It was an impressive thud as that Demon landed across where Okku had just been and the bear-god grunted in satisfaction that he had moved in time. He was not concerned about it he would have been injured but shrugging that Hezrou off of him might have knocked it onto one of the more delicate little-ones. Then with a powerful thrust from his hindquarters Okku sprang up onto the now double-height pile of Demon and at that less wounded Hezrou's throat.

The leftmost Hezrou was having trouble breathing through its smashed mouth and nose and was flailing its arms around defensively. Despite its efforts and thanks in part to Halor's aid Gann was quite easily able to continue stabbing at its knees to try to down it. As the Hezrou's arm swung in Halor was swinging his Dwarven Waraxe to meet it and letting the Demon's own strength aid in slicing the head of the axe through its flesh. This took more precision than it might appear as he wanted to make this a nice deep wound but if he met the arm too directly the impact might knock his axe from his hand. Meanwhile the Militiamen were not managing to land any spear-thrusts but in their attempts were distracting the Hezrou and giving it more to try to keep track of.

Blake decided to take a lesson from Neeshka when it came to tactics. He'd moved a little to his right as the Hezrou staggered back past him to his left and so was now looking straight up between the Hezrou's legs as it twisted on top of its fellow Demon and tried to wrestle Okku. This was not a pleasant sight but could have been even less so had this view not confirmed the lack of genitals. Blake stepped between the sprawled legs and stabbed his sword into the area that if the Demon had either would have been between those and its anus.

As slow as he moved compared with Neeshka's this was a very quick thrust-and-withdraw and Blake immediately jumped back. But the Hezrou's right heel still grazed his tower shield as its legs clamped together in reflex agony and this slight impact was enough to stagger Blake back a little further than he would have stepped. Neeshka was there to steady him though and save him the few extra half-steps he'd have taken to regain his balance. He gave her a quick nod and smile and she gave a quick smile back before they turned back to the pile of Demons and bear-god.

There was a sudden thud as the Hezrou that had been in the centre finished bleeding-out and by vanishing back to the Abyss removed what the others were on top of. Okku took advantage of the impact of this short fall to drive his head down and finish the job Blake had started. The Demon had been annoyingly successful in holding the bear-god at bay but when pain erupted up from between its legs its arms had weakened for a moment and Okku had gained an inch or two. That small change had bent its arms enough to make it far more awkward to try to brace against the bear-god's pushing or this sudden shove.

"Looks like he has that under control, harbour-boy," Neeshka commented as Okku managed to tear away a chunk of the Hezrou's throat.

Blake nodded and looked across at the other Hezrou. As it spun and blood sprayed from its arms it reminded him of a Gnomish contraption for watering lawns, even if those did generally use water rather than Demon blood. This fight also looked under control with it being outnumbered six-to-one but as dramatic as the great sprays of blood looked they probably had less in them than the rivulet running down the other Hezrou and soaking the grey soil beneath it and Okku. Blake started across to make the Hezrou on its feet outnumbered eight-to-one, carefully circling wide of where in trying to push Okku back the fallen Hezrou only managed to help him pull away another piece of itself.

One final stab in the side of a knee and to Gann's satisfaction that leg buckled and the Hezrou nearly fell. As it fought to regain its balance and retain its feet Halor brought his axe in again in another overarm overhead blow, but this time into the side of the thick neck rather than into the Demon's face. The Dwarf wrenched his axe diagonally back and free and then repeated his blow into the same place to cut even deeper. The Hezrou had been leaning more towards Halor but the force of the two strikes was enough to knock it the other way as well as nearly cut all the way through the underside of its neck.

Blake smiled as the Hezrou bent and collapsed and started to fade and then his smile also faded as he glanced elsewhere. Neeshka raised an enquiring eyebrow so Blake nodded towards the portal. "More on the way," he muttered to her.

"Then they shall fall just the same," Okku rumbled, to Blake's surprise. He'd not noticed the bear-god padding up to join them and as he turned he saw he'd also not noticed the last Hezrou fading as the dent in the ground and the patches stained with Demon blood were the only evidence left of that or the other.

"Aye," said Blake, a little annoyed that he'd missed the Hezrou groping for him and had now missed the bear-god's victory and approach. It seemed he was more fortunate than he thought that often he had Neeshka watching out for him. Blake waved his sword in the air to try to glint what dull grey light there was off it for attention and, glad for Kana's lessons in how to make your voice heard across battlefields, called to the others. "More Demons coming, if this wave is only Hezrou then let us try to conserve spells."

"You heard the lad," Halor bellowed, his Dwarven lungs making lessons in being heard unnecessary. "Axe and sword and spear and tooth and claw will do for those wide buggers. So let's get back to get ready for them."

They returned to their positions and to their distinct lack of surprise the first figure to step through was one of the 'wide buggers' and so was the second. But then the portal seemed to quiver a little as the third figure stepped through. This new Demon probably did not weigh as much as the other two but thanks to its more upright posture it was taller than them, even discounting the wings jutting out from its back and up above its slightly bent forward neck and head. Flames wreathed its body and broad horns spread out and curved forward from each side of its head. The effect would have been impressive enough even if like the Hezrou it had been unarmed but one hand casually held a sword as tall as Blake and that looked just as sharp as it was immense.

"A Balor," Blake commented, loud enough for the others to hear in case they did not recognise the rather distinctive form.

"Not just any Balor, mortal," declared the Balor with great self-importance. "I am U'leth the Corrupter and your resistance both amuses and pleases me. That you have slain these lesser Tanar'ri means my glory will be all the greater when I drag your shattered remains back along with those souls you sought to protect. Any feaster of carrion can prey on the helpless but to prevail against…"

"Is that your mother and your auntie you brought to help you prevail then?" Halor interrupted, remembering what Blake had said before.

"Wha…" spluttered U'leth. "What did you say?"

"I said Your mother's a Hezrou!" Halor replied, sounding impatient with having had to explain the insult. "And is that your father beside her rather than her sister? I can see the likeness between you three so could be either. Or if they changed what sex they are it could be both."

"Dwarf!" roared U'leth, the flames around his body flaring up enough to make the two Hezrou flinch a little. "Your False soul shall know torments that will make you long that you had been Faithless and could hope for an end to your suffering in the Wall! You will beg for…"

"Ah, don't get so upset with me," Halor interrupted again. "Not my fault you're a mummy's-boy and need her to hold your hand when you come out to play in the big scary Fugue Plane." U'leth seemed to have been rendered speechless but the flames around him managed to intensify even more. "Well come on then," continued Halor after a moment, "try to make me pay. I might have an eternity of protecting this city but waiting is still boring, the lad here is still mortal, and you seem to be getting cranky so I expect you need your mother there to tuck you down for a nice nap soon."

"Kill them!" screamed U'leth, his voice rising enough in pitch it could no longer be called a roar.

Obediently and to get away from the flames and their master's temper the Hezrou started charging at the full speed their stumpy little legs could manage. Slightly behind them U'leth followed, keeping pace despite his longer legs.

"Loose!" Blake shouted, adding after a moment in case U'leth's presence had not make it clear enough this wave was not 'only Hezrou', "and feel free with spells."

Promptly enough to show he had already begun the incantation before Blake said to feel free Araman sent a ray of Disintegrate into the rightmost Hezrou. The magic ate into and across the Demon's broad chest as it turned flesh into dust, but it ignored this and the arrows and bolts and bullets that were starting to pierce its skin. To its right the leftmost Hezrou stride broke for a moment as the left side of its face exploded into pulp, taking that eye with it, from a hit from the light crossbow. The chainmail clad militiaman on Sey'ryu was getting more used to the vibrations of the weapon, but he knew that was almost as much luck as skill.

The amount of Demon flesh coming towards them and the speed of their approach was impressive but was also more what Blake had expected. That they would charge to either come to grips with those on Sey'ryu or to bypass them, and with Demonic pride the latter was very unlikely. It was also no surprise that the Hezrou were ignoring their wounds. As painfully as those might kill them it would be faster and less painful than the centuries of torment that disobedience to the Balor behind them might earn. Perhaps following the same chain of thought as Blake that the vigour of the attack was fuelled by the greater Demon the Militia Wizard on Sey'ryu cast a Greater Missile Storm at the Balor, and then cursed as its resistance to spells let it shrug the balls of magic energy off harmlessly.

Gann and the spearmen were advancing to where he judged the left flank to be attacked would be. Seeing the flames around the Balor and it ignore the magical attack one of the scale-mail clad militiamen muttered to himself. "How we supposed to attack that?"

"Strike very fast," Gann told them, hearing the mutter and answering. "More important to be fast than accurate as I am not sure how well these spears will resist being plunged through that fire."

"Not so worried about the spears burning, sir," commented the other scale-mail clad militiaman.

"Just stay reasonably intact," Gann replied, "even here the spirits allow me healing enough to ease even major burns."

On the other side Jorin and Neeshka were also circling in. "I should be able to strike at that… thing," nodded Jorin decisively. "Like the game with running a finger through a candle flame."

"I never had any trouble with that game," Neeshka smiled, "takes a little more fire than a candle to bother me."

"I can imagine," said Jorin, his curt tone drawing a glance from Neeshka and dimming her smile. It was probably because he was distracted but she was sensitive to if it was disdain and if he had taken a chance to taunt her.

On Sey'ryu Syrune fitted another bullet to her sling and whirled it in a blur before releasing and sending it streaking away into a Hezrou. For all that some dismissed them as toys for shepherds to drive away jackals or for children to kill small birds for the pot a sling could inflict serious wounds. Lead drop bullets could pierce scale and chain and deep into flesh and bone. But here the Hezrou's thick flesh was just as capable of absorbing the bullets as it was the bolts loosed from the much larger and clumsier heavy crossbow. Her face soured as she made a decision. That Balor, U'leth, looked too dangerous for her to be able to avoid using some of her power on it. She concentrated and cast Bombardment and managed to accurately judge it and the Demons' speed so the stones it created rained down only on them rather than her allies as well.

Seeing the stones pummel the Demons Blake could not help himself from glancing back over his shoulder as he realised who had cast that. He'd wished they'd had some better crossbow bolts or sling bullets or the time to lend the Hin different arrows or, if his bow was creating the ineffective fire arrows, those arrows and a different bow. The sling bullets in particular had irritated him as pouches of those were so small and Syrune did appear to be using her own equipment rather than having been issued a weapon and ammunition. But the whole time Blake had been concerned about how little harm the sling bullets were doing Syrune had been holding back powerful enough magic to be of more use.

Blake fought down his feeling of irritation though as his honesty reminded him that he was also hesitating over spellcasting. If he was hoarding his arcane power in case he needed it against these defenders of the grey city then it would be hypocritical to condemn Syrune for doing the same in reverse. In some ways as someone whose faith was so strongly in the Red Knight, the Lady of Strategy, he should be commending her for her foresight. The Bombardment had thrown up a smaller dust cloud than the Meteor Swarm but still enough for the Demons to be a little hazy until they charged out of it, the Balor still a little behind the Hezrou.

"Ach" Halor commented, loud enough to be easily heard. "I told you he needed his mother to help him."

"But she is a good mother," rumbled Okku in amusement, and just as loudly. "Willing to defend him… or perhaps she hopes to cripple us so her cub can practice his hunting without getting hurt."

"Aye, that makes sense," Halor mused aloud. "Would nae want the poor wee fellow to take on something as challenging as a Dwarf without it being as half-dead as a resident of the City of Judgement can be."

"Out of my way you lumbering fools!" snarled U'leth, shoving them aside hard enough as they tried to move apart that they stumbled and slowed.

"Don't follow," Halor muttered quietly to Blake and Okku before starting to jog forward and raising his voice again. "Hey! Treat your parents with respect!"

U'leth made an incoherent sound of rage and as he got close enough he swung his sword down at Halor. To the Balor's frustration Halor dodged back and to the left, away from Blake and Okku, and to his annoyance the Dwarf left this until the last possible moment and made it appear to be done with contemptuous ease. Blake hoped that Halor would not try to judge this too finely as the cleanness of the furrow left in the soil showed just how incredibly sharp U'leth's blade was. It seemed to have cut through any pebbles it met rather than pushing them aside.

"Oh, sorry. Did you need me to stand still?" Halor taunted. "I know it would be hard for you to hit things if they aren't tied down." U'leth hissed and his sword swept down again, with a similar lack of success in cutting more than the soil. "Never mind," Halor said, nodding at the furrows, "maybe one day you'll manage to hit something smaller than the ground, though I know that is still challenging for you."

"I am the victor of a thousand battles!" roared U'leth.

"That few?" Halor asked in mock surprise. "Explains why you still need so much practice. Did they not have anyone with any real experience? Or did your mother there cry and beg and do… favours… to get her little boy his chance?"

U'leth screamed and struck again and again while Halor continued to dodge and taunt him and draw him off to the left. The Hezrou almost came to a stop as they hesitated over whether to follow their master or continue the charge they had begun and which the Balor's shove had slowed. Blake considered taking the decision from them and counter-charging but realised he could hear voices behind him from Sey'ryu and that the reason he could hear them clearly was that they were in unison rather than only one speaking or them chanting different things.

Araman completed his incantation and cast Ice Storm. He knew the Hezrou's thick skin would protect them against both the cold and the impact but a few quick questions had yielded the information that this spell was something that he and Syrune and this Wizard here all had ready to cast. One Ice Storm might be possible for the Demons to shrug off but three cast at once into the same area would be more of a problem for them. Though the air of the Fugue Plane was dry some ice crystallised out of it with the intense cold the spells created. This dusted the Demons with frost as they were battered and their spines knocked askew by the pieces of ice the size of human heads appearing out of nowhere and raining down on them.

Enough of this ice appeared from the three spells that had the Hezrou not been hunched forward and the chunks glancing off their backs to either side their feet would have been buried. Or buried briefly at least as once this ice had fallen and thudded into them it did not lie on the ground long before it shimmered and faded and returned to whence it came. The ice formed by the cold did still remain and cracked into fragments as the Hezrou tried to move and ignore how the outer layers of their skin had been frozen or chilled. More difficult still was to ignore the effects of the cold on their wounds, the tissue exposed on one by the Disintegrate and torn to pulp on the other's face by the light crossbow's bolt.

Ice Storm was a spell Blake had learned and though he preferred others of that circle of power, and so rarely prepared and used it, he had practised enough with it to know how long the ice would be falling. And on this wearyingly long journey he had become able to judge the speed of Okku's charge and his own and be confident how long it would take them to reach the Hezrou. An instant after the last ice chunk faded and while the Hezrou were still feeling the effects of the battering Okku sprang. He had chosen the Demon with the missing left eye and side of face so he could take advantage of its blind side. Whether the Hezrou didn't see Okku or was still too stunned to react the result was the same and the bear-god's spirit teeth and claws sank deep into its tough flesh.

The Hezrou to the right swung its left fist across at Okku. That would let it put its body and more power behind the blow but, just as important to it, meant it didn't have to move its right arm with its more wounded pectoral muscle. This fist was the size of an Orc's chest so Blake knew he could not block it. Instead he swung his sword in an opposing arc to let the force of both swings draw the edge of the tip of his blade along the Demon's forearm. As it cut in and the magic discharged from it the Hezrou flinched back away from the pain and this threw off its punch. It still struck Okku, as the bear-god was not a small target, but also hit the other Demon and shared its force between them.

Okku was not winded as he did not breathe and even when he had been a bear-of-flesh he was sure he had been struck harder. He noticed the attack but only as something that had granted him an opportunity. The bear-god pushed off with his forepaws, deliberately raking his claws as he did, and shoved the Hezrou back to add this extra impetus to the impact of the other Demon's punch.

The Hezrou staggered back a little and Okku dropped down onto all fours again with a chuckle. "It is a good thing Demon does taste so foul, little-one, or I would more object that your… planning… prevents me from greater testing myself in single-combat with these."

The rightmost Hezrou heard this as it tried to ignore the pain in its left arm and decide whether to try to hit the mortal that had hurt it or attack the bear now the other Demon had staggered back out of the way. It hesitated a moment more as its dull mind tried to figure out what Okku had meant, and then its back bowed as Neeshka sliced her rapier across it. This was not a serious or very deep wound but with the surprise and the magic of her blade it was a bloody and painful one. The Hezrou started to turn in response and Jorin kicked it in the back of its left knee.

He had learned from the previous kick that this breed of Demon was too tough to affect if he kicked elsewhere on the joint. With his precision the knee bent under the Hezrou and as it slumped slightly to that side Jorin sidestepped and then punched it in the back of the shoulder. There was very much more muscle and flesh over the nerve across the shoulder blade than Jorin was used to but he was pleased to still see the Hezrou's left arm go numb and droop slightly.

Realising something was happening the other Hezrou started to turn to its left to assist or to at least see better since this was on its blind side. As it turned it readied itself to punch or wrestle or pounce, despite the pain this caused the claw wounds in its chest as the muscles tensed. Then that pain became almost unnoticeable as four spears entered and withdrew from its back with near perfect synchronisation and fresh anguish flowed through the Demon. The Hezrou staggered and the spears flicked into it again and then it felt itself dragged down and to the side as claws entered its left arm.

The people on Sey'ryu decided to switch targets. While it had only been Blake and Okku near the Hezrou they had been happy to risk a fortunate accident but now Jorin and the Militiamen were closer they cared more about if they hit something other than the ground or the Hezrou. U'leth's rage and focus on Halor was great enough that at first he did not even notice the pinpricks of arrows and bolts and the insect sting of the bullets burrowing into his flesh. The fire being released from some of the arrows was almost pleasant in fact. Then a bolt from the light crossbow slammed into his wing and that construct of sonic energy exploding within it as it lost its form was enough to make even U'leth realise he was under attack.

"Seems it is not me that needs help, False-Soul," U'leth said in contempt, "but your allies will not save you from my wrath."

Halor chuckled. "At least I still have allies, ye moron."

A Balor frowning was quite the sight but, after a moment, U'leth looked behind him. He saw a servant almost down on one knee and the armoured human swing his sword across and horizontally through that servant's face. The other, slightly nearer, servant had that bear-spirit clinging to its left arm with its claws and holding it while the four with spears repeatedly stabbed it. As U'leth continued to watch that nearer servant wrenched free, tearing a lot of flesh from its arm, and the armoured human brought his sword back, held more vertically, to slice into the side of the other servant's neck. That servant began to fade and then the spears plunged into the other again.

At the last moment U'leth realised the danger of looking away from the Dwarf and twisted back and swept his sword down across in front of him. This spoiled one attack from his tiny insolent foe as the Dwarf had to dodge but, as more pinpricks and insect stings rained onto him, U'leth realised there would be more. He did not care about the fate of the Hezrou but he did care that when they died, as they soon would, this meant this attack had failed. With how fast they and the other lesser breeds that had preceded them had been defeated it seemed unlikely he would be able to defeat all these foes alone.

He could fight on and try to at least kill the Dwarf, but why bother? The punishment he faced back in the Abyss would be for the failure and would not be made any more or any less terrible for cowardice or courage. Therefore if that pain was certain now U'leth decided he might as well save himself the tiny extra amount of pain and return to the Abyss via portal rather than 'death'.

"Hey! Come back!" Halor shouted as U'leth turned and began running away. Then he realised the Balor was heading for the portal rather than the Hezrou. "Just because your mother there is being sent back where you came from doesn't mean you have to run back there to welcome her!"

Hearing Halor shout Gann stepped away from the now fading Hezrou and towards U'leth's path. The Balor seemed to ignore him as it appeared Gann had misjudged things and would be little obstacle even if he did get more in the way. With a mental apology to the spirits for using their gifts in this way yet again Gann beseeched them for a Burst of Glacial Wrath. They responded and U'leth was engulfed in incredibly intense cold that made that created by even three Ice Storms feel like a simple cool breeze. Like the Shape of Fire back in the burnt section of the Ashenwood his flames dimmed and U'leth staggered in his run.

Jorin dashed in to take advantage of this as Gann moved to be between U'leth and the portal rather than a little off to one side. The monk's fist hammered in at the side of the Balor's upper right thigh and then Jorin had to throw himself forward as U'leth's right wing swept towards him. He felt the leathery membrane of the wing stroke along the back of his head and neck and down his spine and felt the heat of the flames of the Balor's body along his side. As Jorin landed and continued his dive into a forward roll and up onto his feet he was shocked to realise that despite this he was not in any pain.

"I'm… not burnt?" said Jorin in surprise.

"Harder to get burnt or frozen when you're dead, lad," Halor squeezed out as he puffed along in pursuit. "You not noticed?"

"No…" admitted Jorin, "but I've not been dead as long as you."

Gann had got the spearmen to reluctantly join him in a defensive line. Overhearing Halor's words he nodded to the one scale-mail clad man. "Seems your concerns over fire were less well founded than we thought."

"Yes, sir," replied the militiaman. "Now all we have to worry about is talons and horns and that bloody huge sword."

U'leth was limping quite severely, from both the effect of having nearly been frozen and the punch to the nerve at the top of his leg, but seeing the portal begin to fade gave him extra motivation and a small extra burst of speed. The flames around the portal edges were starting to flicker out and die and the darkness within them to become more transparent. He roared at the people in his path and then staggered again as the people on the dragon-corpse took advantage of the brief time between him being far enough from Jorin and too close to those spearmen.

The arrow and crossbow bolt stuck partway through U'leth's right wing to wobble back and forth as he moved and though the sling bullet managed to pass through the membrane it was slowed enough by this to barely do more than reach and maybe bruise the Balor's side. A divot of grey soil burst upwards as a bolt from the light crossbow streaked past and spent itself in the ground. The militiaman's curse was echoed a moment later by Araman as the missiles of his Lesser Missile Storm also struck the wing rather than the curve they'd spread in being broad enough for them to get around it.

Blake had a better angle and while Okku and Neeshka continued ahead he paused and cast his own Lesser Missile Storm. Some still hit the increasingly ragged right wing but a few leaked past to burn relatively small holes in the Balor's chest and abdomen. U'leth moved forward through the impacts like a man advancing through driving rain and started to sweep his sword ahead of him. With the length of his sword and his arms he had a longer reach than the spears and he started driving Gann and the militiamen back. His confidence grew as they retreated.

"Now!" Gann ordered.

Gann and the militiaman to his right moved aside that way while the other two militiamen moved left. U'leth had just enough time to think them cowards before Okku surged forward through the gap and at him. Despite his surprise U'leth managed to stab his sword forward one handed accurately enough that though Okku reacted and moved aside the blade still made contact. The sword barely grazed along his right side but it still cut deep even with how tough the bear-god's spirit-flesh was. While U'leth was extended in this stab Neeshka darted in from his left and Okku's right. She'd circled around a little further and now her rapier flicked out across the Balor's belly to join two of the missile wounds with a line of blood.

U'leth swung his sword to his left and Neeshka hurriedly ducked and dodged back out of range. She knew she'd not inflicted more than a superficial cut but that didn't matter compared with the diversion she'd provided. Okku took the chance to growl and channel his rage at the insolence of the Balor in wounding him into healing that wound. Jorin had caught up from behind and drove his fist into the base of U'leth's spine. U'leth wobbled as he tried to continue the momentum of his sword swing into batting the monk away with his, so far, unwounded left wing.

However, like Neeshka, Jorin was too fast and dodged to his right to stay ahead of the wing. As U'leth turned he saw Halor had nearly caught up but he decided the Dwarf was less dangerous than leaving the bear-spirit behind him so he continued through almost a complete rotation. As he came back to nearly face the portal again he saw the armoured man was also getting close and the bear-spirit, Baatezu-tainted female, and the punching-False-soul had joined him. The four men with spears had moved back together and back into the way and U'leth roared as he saw that as fast as the wound on the bear-spirit was fading it was not fading as fast as the portal.

U'leth lunged forward towards his smaller adversaries. But it was too late and as the portal faded his attempt to reach it shifted into the intent to kill some of them before they managed to kill him. Throwing away his last vestiges of caution U'leth charged and Okku sprang to meet him. The Balor swung his sword down and to his left at the bear-god, determined this time to strike a more solid blow and find out if this spirit could heal a missing limb, or head, or if cut in two. Okku dug his paws into the grey soil in mid-charge though so the blade passed harmlessly across in front of him.

A moment after Okku moved and U'leth began to react Blake had followed the bear-god with Neeshka on his heels. The damaged right wing with the arrow and bolt through it like decorative piercings had spread out to help U'leth's balance and Blake brought his sword slicing vertically down ahead of him and through the tough leathery membrane to its lower edge. Behind him Neeshka cut at U'leth's right thigh and then followed her harbour-boy as he continued the arc of his sword to bring it behind him and twist his body to lead with his shield instead. There was a thump like a door coming off its hinges and falling flat onto the ground as Blake bulled his way through the slit in the wing.

Distracted by the pain in his wing and thigh and knocked a little off balance U'leth was slow in reversing his swing to bring his sword back. Okku's hindpaws dug into the soil again as his powerful hindquarters flexed and drove him forward in a low arc to take U'leth's legs out from under him. The Balor had to break his fall with both hands, pressing his sword uselessly into the dirt as he landed. For a few moments all U'leth could do was thrash his legs about to try to untangle them from the bear-god but as he managed this and scrabbled off Okku onto his hands and knees Gann and the militiamen stabbed him in his rear and side.

Blake was a little dazed from the impact as he'd not thought the wing that thick. He'd expected it to flex more or possibly tear and in forcing his way though his shield had twisted on his arm and the upper curve of its kite shape had rapped him on the forehead. It had not been a particularly hard blow, the metal of his helmet and the padding underneath it had protected him, but it had still been a shock and Blake was glad he'd held his shield so high as a little lower and he'd have a broken nose. Neeshka's keen ears had heard the noise of shield-edge on helmet, she'd encouraged him on through the moment of surprise and she was keeping him moving now to get more distance to recover completely. Halor puffed past them in the opposite direction and gave Blake a slight grin and nod as he did.

"Nae time to rest now, lad," Halor said cheerfully. "Got some more Demon chopping to do."

Blake wobbled a little as he turned. "Some people say they'll rest when they're dead," he commented to Neeshka with a smile, "but looks like they might not get the chance even then."

"Come on then harbour-boy," Neeshka replied in resigned tones and unsurprised that her harbour-boy wouldn't take the few extra seconds, "I know you've missed having to chase a Dwarf into battle."

Okku regained his paws and the small amount of wits the impact of his head and shoulders against the Balor's knees and shins had scattered. Despite having been stabbed five times with spears, twice by Gann, U'leth had managed to get up so he was kneeling on his left knee rather than down on his hands and both knees. As Jorin moved in U'leth menaced him with his sword and managed to force the monk to back away again. That and the cautiously advancing and retreating militiamen and Gann was enough diversion for U'leth to not notice Okku tensing to spring.

If U'leth had been standing it would have been challenging for the bear-god to leap high enough but with him kneeling Okku was able to reach his left wing root. Spirit-teeth sank deep into Demonflesh and then Okku's claws also sank deep as he braced himself against U'leth's back and began wrenching at the wing. The flames around the Balor's body also played across the bear-god's face and chest and paws but Okku treated this burning with contempt as U'leth started to twist about in his grip. As the Balor he continued to struggle he found that his own wing blocked him from attempting to drive an elbow back into the bear-god.

They wrestled and U'leth began to lose his balance and feel himself being dragged over backwards. His right wing thrashed to try to help counter that but with the slice through its membrane and all the other wounds it had suffered it could not fully extend. U'leth threw his right arm out to also help try to keep his balance but more important to let him attempt to turn his elbow and wrist to stab down his own back with his sword and into Okku. Halor had circled the thrashing wing and as U'leth extended his arm to his side the Dwarf drove his Dwarven Waraxe into that elbow. That was not enough to make the Balor drop his sword but a moment later Jorin dashed in and punched the inside of U'leth's right wrist.

Either blow alone would have been ineffective but with U'leth's grip loosened by the pain in his elbow the punch was enough to jar his weapon free. Even the short distance the sword fell from his hand was enough to make it cut into rather than just land on the soil. Deprived of its weight as a counter-balance U'leth fell back onto Okku and the impact and the flames being trapped around him between the Balor and the ground was enough to cause the bear-god's jaws to relax. It took U'leth a few moments of just lying there on top of Okku before he could get the willpower up to move and to start rolling over to his right to try to push himself upright with his uninjured left arm.

As he turned U'leth hissed in pain. Rather than following his movement as it should his left wing stayed almost still, gravity holding it where it was as the torn flesh and dislocated joint at its root failed to support it. The pain in his injured right wing, as he tried to fold it against him out of the way, and from his other wounds was probably greater but as that was spread across his body it did not feel quite as bad. U'leth managed to roll off Okku and onto his left hand to support him but before he could do more Blake sliced his sword across the back of the Balor's neck and the thick mane growing there.

This blow was a simpler one than it might have been. That a Balor's head was forward-thrust when it was upright meant that when it was almost lying on its chest its neck was close to being vertical. Against a Fire or Frost Giant Blake would have needed to step to the side and bring his sword down in an executioner's blow but here he could just pivot and sweep it across from left to right. As U'leth's neck and shoulders convulsed in response to Blake's blow Halor brought his axe down onto the back of the Balor's left knee and cut deep enough he had to wrench it back and forth to work it free of the wound.

Halor had seen the lad coming in to attack but had not seen any reason to not chop the knee. Blake could have missed cutting deep enough to do serious harm and there was the old saying that 'making sure doesn't hurt…you'. U'leth's left arm buckled and he sprawled down onto his face and chest. Having his left leg be so close to severed at the knee would have kept him from rising but until his demonic healing had a chance to do its work he was also semi-paralysed by the slash across his neck. His left wing had bent back with his turn and was lying across him like a cape rather than jutting out to one side. U'leth could feel it healing as well and hoped he would regain enough sensation in his arms and legs to straighten that wing before it set in that incorrect position.

Flames still played around the Balor and Okku began to rather falteringly get to his feet to get some distance from them. His might could easily heal the damage that fire was inflicting and the pain was beneath his notice, but while he was healing fresh injuries he was not healing the older ones as swiftly. Gann saw this and asked the spirits to lend the bear-god their aid. As the energies flowed through his form Okku's stride became less wobbly and he grunted in relief.

"My thanks, spawn-of-hags," Okku rumbled, straightening up a little.

Blake moved in carefully, considering where to strike to finish U'leth. As his eyes moved across the Balor Neeshka whispered to him from his side. "Bet you are glad when I snuggle I don't have those horns…"

"Would make it less cosy…" Blake whispered back before pausing. "Actually, do you want those horns? You did threaten back in the barrow to wear Okku's teeth as a necklace."

"I also said I preferred gold and jewels," whispered Neeshka in reply, giving Blake a dubious look.

Blake nodded and reversed his grip on his sword to stab it down into the back of U'leth's neck and skull, aiming to push it past below the horns rather than attempt to cut through the root of one of them. He twisted his sword around with a grating of metal on bone as he drove it deeper to try to reach the Balor's brain. After giving Blake another dubious look Neeshka stepped around to his right to flick her rapier across the side of U'leth's throat in the hope that, like many things, there would be a major blood vessel there to slice through.

As he worked his sword further into U'leth Blake decided he was not surprised Neeshka had declined with such a strange expression. He'd never been inclined to taking trophies so the offer had likely been a surprise. Almost the only thing he had was Gulk'aush's eye, and that had been an insistent gift. There had been things though which could have been of practical use or made good souvenirs, masks from the dead Durthans or the helmet of the leader of Myrkul's Death Knights could fall in the latter and Wyvern hide or the pelts of the Beasts of Malar in the former.

The Balor horn would fall more in the category of being a souvenir though perhaps being practical as well. Blake had heard of sailors carving the teeth and tusks of great sea beasts so that intricate patterns or scenes were picked out in relief and heard of wealthy artists managing to do the same but adding gold and jewels to further enhance it. Horn and tusk were quite different substances but a similar thing might be possible here. Before Blake could decide whether to take a horn and find out if anything attractive could be made of it U'leth began to fade away around Blake's sword as he finally died.

Blake let that free his blade and was glad the Balor had vanished as if the corpse had remained it would have been difficult to extract his sword from it. He shook off some of the clinging pieces and fluids of Demon and stepped back away from where U'leth had lain. Neeshka gave U'leth's sword a considering look and then pouted as it also started to fade and return to the Abyss. She was not that keen on carrying a Demon sword around but she would have liked to have the choice. Noticing that Halor was approaching she moved to her harbour-boy's side, ready to defend him in case of trouble.

"Fine thing we have done here" said Halor in a friendly tone. "The Abyssal Lords won't try to breach the City of Judgement again anytime soon, and I'm speaking as one who thinks decades would be soon with as long as I have been here."

"You called Sey'ryu a fine ally," Blake commented, relaxing enough to start wiping his sword rather than keeping it more ready. "You were part of Akachi's Crusade and have been here that long?"

"That I was and that I have been," replied Halor before nodding at the approaching Araman. "Some of us actually fought and died here rather than turn our coats and get to spend those centuries in the mortal world."

Araman gave no sign of whether or not he'd heard Halor's comment. "Zoab had all the foresight of a mewling babe in wasting the dragon on you. He is a paler shadow of Akachi than ever I was."

"To be fair to Zoab, she did volunteer to try to kill me," Blake pointed out. "A shame though that she and we could not make common cause against the Demons before, or instead of, having to end her life." Blake sighed. "Now to the business between us and you," he continued before looking and nodding to Halor, "and you."

"Grateful we are for the assistance against Sey'ryu, Kelemvor judge her, and these Demons," frowned Halor, looking pensive as duty came into conflict with that, "but I can't be grateful enough to be letting you into the City."

"No, you must be," Araman contradicted. "Blake must enter the city and he must fight against the Crusade as well as end this needless curse."

"Must?" repeated Blake, rebelling against being told what to do by this man who had caused him so much trouble. "And needless? You do realise this curse is what helped sustain Myrkul? That it helped keep fear of his name alive and so allow him to continue haunting his skeleton?" Araman did not reply so Blake continued, not realising that a slight sneer had come to his face. "This does make me wonder if you hunting The Founder were less 'correcting your brother's wrongs' and more to do with preventing her from ending the spirit-eater curse. Less your choice, as you claimed, and more Myrkul's."

"I… don't know," Araman admitted. Centuries of certainty were not easy to put aside but he knew now that part of why he had been so certain had been the spells that still bound him. Now he was free of those he knew he should use his returned ability to think and doubt to reconsider things. "Perhaps. Perhaps I had been deluded all those years in thinking myself free and my choices my own."

"No matter. Whether it was your choice or Myrkul's is irrelevant now. The Founder offered to let me take my vengeance and, though I pray to Tyr that it was less vengeance and more justice, I accepted her offer and bloodied the Sword of Gith."

"She is dead?" Araman asked, a little shocked. "But you…Akachi…"

"Akachi loved her. I regarded her as too dangerous to leave alive when she proudly proclaimed that if needed she would sacrifice a thousand more like me to her aims. Hopefully between us we killed all her fragments so your task is complete. Now I have my task to complete, and that is recovering my soul and ending this curse, not fighting this Crusade from either side."

"Kelemvor will permit you to retrieve your soul, Blake… but only when the Crusade is smashed," Araman replied firmly. "However just your reason you were the one to open the Gate and call the Crusade. However if you are also the one to end it then no God may shout for your blood when all this is done. Kelemvor also believes you are a symbol."

"A symbol of what?" frowned Blake in surprise.

"If Akachi's heir defeats the Crusade he hopes the rebels will see the truth" Araman explained. "The truth that my brother sought the impossible, that to smash the Wall is to deny all order and deny the laws that bind mortals and gods alike, that without those laws the planes would dissolve into madness."

"I cannot disagree with that," nodded Blake, "but I do doubt that as cruel a way of enforcing those laws as the Wall is needed."

"There are Gods… and worse… who want this Crusade to succeed," Araman continued. "Kelemvor risks much with this hope, and with granting you the chance to redeem yourself in the sight of the Gods, rather than ending this himself."

"So, to 'redeem' myself I have to kill more people who are fighting for what they consider right?"

"And destroy Rammaq," Araman confirmed, "who is fighting only for what my brother promised him. Access to the Archives and the artefacts stored within."

"By Beshaba," hissed Blake, swearing by The Maid of Misfortune. "So Kelemvor as well as Sey'ryu will not allow me to remain neutral, and I'd far rather defy a Dragon than a God." He closed his eyes for a moment and then let out a deep breath. "So be it then, more blood for this damned curse and so now I need more information. Rammaq is travelling to your archives, what of Zoab?"

"Good thinking little-one," Okku rumbled, "dispatch their alpha wolf… decapitate the head of the Crusade… and the rest will falter."

"You would need to kill Kaelyn as well," a reluctant Jorin said from beside Halor, feeling like he was betraying her. "She persuaded me and many others to join her Crusade and she would rally them."

"Killing their leader or leaders might work here, unlike against old father bear and his army," Gann agreed, "though for us to find them we do need to know what they intend and where. Or know more than we learned in a Dreamscape and a play of the Betrayer's Crusade."

"I recall something about Zoab and mercy and justice," nodded Blake, frowning in thought, "and Rammaq and him being denied godhood."

"Zoab intends what he always has," Araman supplied. "To murder the Voice of Kelemvor who renders judgements in the God's name. A symbolic victory, but one that would make Kelemvor appear weak so we might face not only my brother's allies but a rebellion from within as well." Araman's lips tightened as he continued. "More than the rest, save maybe Kaelyn, Zoab embodies my brother's crusade… deluded or not he fights for others, not for himself."

"And Rammaq?" Blake asked. "What was it your brother promised him at the archives?"

"Three times Rammaq has tried to become a God and three times he has been denied," replied Araman, hoping he was making the right decision by answering more fully rather than telling them that was irrelevant and that knowing Rammaq would be there was all they needed to know. "But in Eternity's End are artefacts rumoured to have been used by Karsus, the Netherese wizard who briefly attained Godhood…"

"For the moment until Mystra was reborn and magic returned," Blake nodded. "He caused a lot of trouble, and Rammaq at least I have no qualms about killing since he is evil and motivated by self-interest. But it does mean we may be facing a God and even if that Godhood was just as brief as Karsus' that would not make it any less painful for us."

"Whatever you decide I will guide you through the city and aid you," Araman said. "I failed to stop my brother's madness…" Halor muttered something rude at this description of Akachi's Crusade, that he'd been part of. Ignoring the mutter Araman continued. "So the blame for this is mine as much as his."

"As much as I know my harbour-boy wouldn't want someone murdered," smiled Neeshka, giving him a loving look, "and as much as he is unimpressed by his own skill I also know how much more powerful his magic has grown since we met. If that giant-skull guy could get more dangerous like that…"

"Neeshka is right," Blake sighed. "Fighting Sey'ryu and the Demons might already have been too great a delay. For now the Voice of Kelemvor shall have to rely on his own efforts and those of his guards. Rammaq is the higher priority, but unless we learn where Kaelyn is, and that she is doing something even more urgent, I think rescuing the Voice from Zoab would be our next task."

"And good luck with that, lad," said Halor. "With the damage to the gate we need to remain here, but I hope you get your soul back as well as all else."