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.

27. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Gently, and with a degree of reluctance to touch something that looked as if it would feel like a healthily damp frog, Blake brushed his bare fingertips across the face of his soul. Rather than cold damp flesh it felt more like a poorly fired and very brittle pot that was crumbling at this gentle touch despite having survived being in the Wall of the Faithless and being extracted from it. The cracks spread as Blake froze in more than shock and a wind burst out from within his soul to shriek around him and into him. He tried to think this was a promising sign that something was happening and that he could feel something entering through his skin to fill a void he hadn't fully realised was there. But nothing seemed to be flowing back out and the pressure in his chest as he was filled made him feel like he was drowning and desperate to exhale even if that meant breathing in water and dying.

Blake collapsed to one side with voices crying in his ears. Daeghun was calling for him just as he did when Blake and his friends lost track of time as children and once again he was late enough for his foster-father to worry he had fallen prey to some danger of the Mere. The screams of his companions against the King of Shadows as they warned him of dangers. The cries he had only heard in nightmares of those he had known in West Harbour screaming as they died and as it burned and was destroyed. All of these joined into one rushing torrent of sound that swept his mind away and into darkness as it overwhelmed him.

With an effort Blake tried to fight off this darkness and slowly forced his eyes open. Rather than seeing the City of Judgement and seeing it from ground level he found he was standing up and surrounded by a grey and misty version of Crossroad Keep. This was much less intact than he had left it as the walls and buildings around him had not been repaired but, as if to balance this his, his armour and shield were both undamaged. His left pauldron was back in place, moving his jaw did not rub it against the helmet cheekguard, and the hole Araman's Disintegrate had made had vanished from his shield.

But even with this and feeling as if he'd had the benefit of a good night's sleep without the disadvantage of losing the spells he'd had in place for the other fights Blake was still annoyed. "Damn, a Dreamscape. This is going to be more complex than I hoped."

"Red Wizard there, harbour-boy," a very familiar and unexpected voice said. Blake looked at the image of Neeshka and decided this was a good dream if he was dreaming of her and then looked where the image was pointing. That looked like the Red Woman… Blake's thoughts jarred to a halt as he realised that was not a mere image of Neeshka. He loved her enough that he would dream her in more detail and in more colour than anything else but he did not think he could dream what he had just seen.

Turning back to her he stared at her to confirm how much more vivid she was than the rest of this Dreamscape and after a moment and a baffled expression Neeshka grinned and struck a pose as she winked. "Like what you see?"

"You're real."

"And this is a dream," replied Neeshka, "but when things got weird I tried to put you in a more comfortable position, and next thing I knew I was here."

Blake nodded. He was not sure how this had happened but he was very glad that it had, even if he would have preferred to endanger Gann or Okku instead or at least to have them here to help as well. "The 'Red Wizard' looks like the Red Woman from the other Dreamscapes," Blake commented quietly to Neeshka. "I think more like the one from the Mosstone Dream where I got a fragment of mask. We should speak to her."

"Following your lead, harbour-boy," Neeshka replied as they moved the few steps closer and she checked her rapier was free in its scabbard in case of treachery.

"Blake, I feared I wouldn't find you before he did," said the Red Woman. "The Faceless Man… he is here."

"That name has been mentioned before, and as a threat. Who or what is it?"

"The Faceless Man is all that remains of Akachi," replied the Red Woman, "an empty shell, bereft of memory or soul, seeking always to fill himself up. He is the presence you have felt from the first moment in the barrow. But you have the fragments of the mask Blake, you can restore him to what he was and end this forever."

"Very well, if I can do this and it will not endanger Neeshka I shall," Blake nodded. "What must I do?"

"Each fragment is an essence, mine or The Boy's, and the final fragment, the one you found in the Wall, that fragment is his. As long as you possess all three he will fear you. His hunger is scattered at will and manifested in this dream as mockeries of the priest he once was. You must destroy them and chase down the Faceless Man. Corner him in a place where he cannot run and we will be there at the end to make him whole again."

"One more question, which I suspect the answer to, but why was only Neeshka drawn into this dream with me rather than the others? I am used to it being Gann that Dreamwalks with me."

"As you suspect it is because of the love you share," replied the Red Woman before explaining further. "When two wills are so closely aligned and such a love is shared even dreams cannot tear them apart."

"How many times do I have to tell you that I am not letting you face this alone before you get the message harbour-boy?" Neeshka asked, giving him a frown of fond annoyance. "Dreams, reality, other planes, other lands… if you need me I am going to be there sharing the dangers. However much you want to protect me."

"You are more than I could have dreamed of my love," said Blake, speaking more literally than Neeshka assumed, "and I am glad that we shall finish this together."

"You will see memories in this place too," the Red Woman warned. "Faces you loved or hated, perhaps. Just as I am a remnant of Akachi, they are expressions of your soul. Lose them, and a part of you dies."

With those final words she started to fade into the mist and ahead of Blake and Neeshka other patches of mist began to become more solid. It seemed unwise to wait unarmed for whatever was appearing to appear so with an almost synchronised hiss of blade over metal scabbard guard they drew their swords. Most of what appeared were the mockeries the Red Woman had mentioned and these skull-faced figures had hardly formed before they charged, robes flapping around their legs and their scythes ready to strike. The other patches of mist resolved into people that were, mostly, more welcome in Blake's Keep or his head.

Neeshka glanced to her right and saw a very familiar form dodge a scythe sweep. "Hey!" she complained, "Off of… well, me! Go eat Bishop!" Neeshka paused and muttered a moment later. "Or the tree worshipper if she's here as well."

"I'd agree about Bishop," Blake replied, eyes darting around as he tried to assess the situation in the few clear moments they had. "Not Elanee though. But I think she just turned into that Earth Elemental so it seems she and the three there are not in danger for now. Not with how many are coming this way."

"Nice to be popular enough they preferred us," grinned Neeshka as she sidestepped a scythe blow with even more grace than Blake's memory of her.

Blake was not so sure that he appreciated how many of these mockeries of Akachi had chosen to attack them rather than the other dream creatures. The practice they had gained in their travels through Rashemen and Thay and the Fugue Plane had let them learn a few new things and polish what they'd already known. Therefore they were possibly more able to deal with these mockeries than his memories of friends who had not had that practice. But though Blake could feel that the Red Woman had not been lying or mistaken that losing these memories would kill part of him he still preferred that to losing Neeshka.

The group of robed attackers had got within range as those thoughts flashed through Blake's mind. One swept its scythe in at Blake and he stepped into the attack so the shaft rather than the blade of the mockery's weapon struck his shield. Then he punched his sword hand forward, driving one side of the crossguard of his sword into its midriff and hooking it under the thing's robe-belt. It bent slightly around the punch and with a heave Blake lifted and shoved that mockery up and back into the others. It managed to keep its feet but not to avoid colliding with its identical allies.

"Protect me for a moment, please dear," Blake requested, stepping back a little.

Neeshka looked at the creepy robed things as they got themselves reorganised and then glanced at Blake as he moved. Her expression cleared as she saw his hands twitching with the unneeded motions he'd not been able to completely suppress and as she heard him chanting. After hearing and seeing this so many times she recognised what her harbour-boy was doing. Neeshka's rapier darted out into the eye-socket of a mockery of Akachi. There was no eye to pop and no brain to pierce behind the thin bone of the socket but it still recoiled backwards as the magic discharged from her blade into its head.

The others were spreading out to try to use the reach of the scythes to advantage by swinging them in from different directions. That could be difficult to dodge and even harder to parry so Neeshka hoped her harbour-boy would hurry. Behind her Blake finished chanting and a ball of flame formed in front of him to split into several smaller ones that streaked away further than she expected. As this spell of Firebrand pelted his chosen targets Neeshka gave Blake another glance.

"Fine, you saved 'me'…" Neeshka commented, dodging a scythe swing and nodding towards where Blake had aimed. This had been quite effective as the spell had staggered the enemies attacking the group that included the memory-Neeshka, and some of them had begun to burn as their robes caught alight. "Now, what about saving me!"

"Retreat when I say," replied Blake, starting to chant again.

Neeshka jabbed her small shield down to catch the shaft of a scythe in the tines of one of its forks. She couldn't hold this for long as wood slipped against metal but she managed to throw off the swing enough to make that mockery get in the way of another. Another swing came in low at her legs and she had to turn and pull her leg out of the way though that put her in a worse position to avoid the next blow from another mockery. Neeshka was glad her harbour-boy had faith in her rather than being over-protective but as the scythe blade flashed past she wondered if he was being under-protective here.

Blake completed his spell. "Retreat," he called in the moment before the spell's 'seed' struck the ground.

Her tail lashing for balance Neeshka sprang backwards towards Blake as the spell discharged near where she had just been. A moment passed where nothing happened except Akachi's mockeries reacting to her movement and starting to chase her. Then around them the ground erupted as Evard's Black Tentacles sprouted up through it to begin slapping and groping at the skull-faced figures, wrapping themselves around their robes and probing up underneath them to try to get a hold of whatever lay inside. Some of the mockeries began trying to use their scythes as if they were farmers. Unfortunately for them thick rubbery tentacles were not as easy to reap as stalks of wheat and especially with how a scythe made or altered for combat differed from the more normal tool.

"Eww," Neeshka commented, raising one delicate eyebrow, "one of your creepier spells harbour-boy."

"There are rumours," replied Blake, starting to move to the left as the mockeries struggled, "of similar spells being used for… purposes… other than combat."

"Not something I wanted to learn…" Neeshka claimed, though a small part of her was intrigued. She nodded towards where Blake had cast his Firebrand. "We not helping 'me'? Or finishing these?"

The Memory-Elanee-Elemental started to lumber towards the trapped mockeries of Akachi but Blake nodded towards the memories of Sand and Grobnar. The former had been casting spells in the direction Blake was now moving and the latter loosing arrows that same way. Memory-Sand cast another Disintegrate with the sneer of pride in his own arcane prowess that had never endeared him to Blake.

"They must have a target this way, and the ones around 'you' I already weakened…" Blake paused in what he was saying as his memory of Qara showed the same fondness for fire as the real person had. He gave the trapped mockeries a glance as the Fireball struck them and they began to burn. "Hopefully the tentacles of Evard are more resistant to fire than these skull-faces, but I think this Qara just shrivelled them a little."

It was not far to the corner that had been blocking their view of what Memory-Sand and Memory-Grobnar had been attacking. As they rounded this they saw a large group of the mockeries, some with arrows sticking from their backs and others with holes eaten into them, and Blake heard a voice he'd hoped he would never be unfortunate enough to hear again. His stride faltered though as over the sound of that arrogant cursing he heard a second voice, another one he'd thought he would never hear again, but one he would have been grateful to hear rather than resentful.

"Shandra?" Neeshka asked as she heard the same thing.

"Gods damn it!" snarled Blake, stopping and chanting and casting another Firebrand but charging in its wake fast enough to almost catch up with the smaller fireballs. "This is how it should have been," he snarled again, smashing his sword down with enough power into one of the mockeries he had staggered that he cut it in two diagonally. "Damn you Ammon Jerro…"

"He damned himself harbour-boy," Neeshka commented more calmly.

She ducked under a scythe swing as a mockery turned to face them and then Neeshka straightened and removed that face. She supported her right hand with her left as she drove her arm and bracer-blade up like a guillotine blade in reverse, using the strength of her well-muscled thighs and rear and her strong back to chop and smash away the front of the mockery's skull. The memory of Ammon Jerro struck at one of the mockeries Blake had staggered and then Shandra's shortswords flashed and she finished it. Another curse hissed from between Blake's teeth as he saw this.

"Fighting alongside each other, working as a team," growled Blake, slamming his shield into one of Akachi's mockeries. It staggered and fell to the floor where Blake wasted no time in stamping on its head and crushing its skull flat. "Rather than that scum having killed her and, perhaps, prevented her resurrection."

"Feeling less guilty, harbour-boy?" Neeshka asked, stabbing a mockery that was trying to take advantage of Blake's lack of caution.

"The guilt will return," replied Blake, turning and sweeping that creature's skull from its neck, "but for now I am hoping Mephasm has fun and does as thorough and as skilled a job as we'd expect from him."

Another Disintegrate hissed in from Memory-Sand and burned into the final nearby mockery of Akachi. It staggered as its upper left arm vanished into dust and all the weight of its scythe and its left forearm, still locked on the shaft, came onto its right arm. Neeshka demonstrated once more why finesse was as effective as a honking great sword and stabbed it with delicate precision in the neck. The magic discharged from her slender blade and she twisted her wrist and neatly popped the vertebrae apart so the skull and upper neck fell free.

"Come on!" the Memory-Ammon demanded as he charged off, the memory of his granddaughter chasing after him.

Blake paused a moment. "I'd say he was as much of a pig-headed-bastard as I remembered, but since this is my memory of him…"

"He'd hardly be anything else," Neeshka grinned, finishing her harbour-boys sentence.

Not caring much about Ammon Jerro, whether memory or not, but caring more about most of the others the pair followed. It appeared that Memory-Qara had continued to be free with her fire spells as both the Earth Elemental that Memory-Elanee had turned into and the field of still waving Evard's Black Tentacles were looking scorched. A few of those tentacles were also looking a little squashed and Blake saw why as Memory-Elanee shifted position to punch at a mockery with her large Elemental fist and stepped on another tentacle with her even larger Elemental foot.

As the memories of Ammon and Shandra Jerro plunged in to attack the few surviving Aspects of Hunger there Blake pointed. "We'll help 'you' and 'Khelgar," he said, then he glanced towards the trio and smiled. "Hmm, good thing that Gnome-artist is not here…"

"What?" Neeshka asked, baffled by the comment.

"He thought Shandra a vision," explained Blake, breaking from a jog into more of a run, "so I am not sure how he would react to seeing her surrounded by tentacles. Given the sort of artwork some produce with those elements within it."

"As long as you are not reacting to it," Neeshka replied, with a teasing mock glower.

The tall calm figure of Blake's memory of Casavir smashed one mockery in the face with his warhammer. As it fell backwards with most of the front of its skull turned to scattered fragments Blake stabbed another one in the back and wrenched upwards. His blade cut up through ribs and shoulder and out, and Blake whipped it around and down again from above his head to meet the mockery as it fell and to finish it.

"Believe me," smiled Blake, nodding towards Memory-Neeshka, "tentacles were not what I was thinking of."

"Hah!" Neeshka replied, stabbing a mockery simultaneously with her double. "Like you could handle a double dose of Tiefling any better than this could."

"True enough," admitted Blake, "I can barely handle handling you."

Blake swung his sword in at another mockery and it turned and brought its scythe up to block this blow. The sharp edge of Blake's sword cut most of the way through the wood of the shaft so it bent around his blade and then Memory-Casavir calmly hammered in the side of its skull while it was distracted. Blake nodded to this memory of his friend and looked back to his sweetheart and his memory of her and their dance around that other mockery.

"Though I do recall what you said about trying combinations," continued Blake.

Not being able to reach as high Memory-Khelgar hit that mockery in the hip rather than the skull, but that was only a prelude. Suddenly having nothing but bone powder to join its leg and back the mockery fell to the side and brought its head down onto Memory-Khelgar's hammer as that came up to meet it. Through some fluke rather than pulverising it this blow 'only' knocked the skull from the neck and it flew out of the front of the hood of the robe to bounce and shatter its way across the courtyard.

"Don't take that too much to heart, harbour-boy," Neeshka warned him. "You know I am not inclined to share what is most precious to me, and if that was true with gold and gems…"

Blake nodded as he swung and decapitated another of the mockeries. He was more glad rather than disappointed that Neeshka felt this way as he did not want to share her either. And if he was not sharing her, if the 'combination' was giving him more to 'handle' rather than also some help with the pleasurable tasks of trying to make Neeshka happy, then he knew the extra 'work' would be beyond him. Blake looked around for more enemies and then glared as he saw one. But though this Memory-Bishop was skulking back out of the fight, and had likely been just standing by and sneering rather than using the bow in his hand, he was not hostile and killing him here would be killing part of Blake's own soul.

There seemed no more of the mockeries but suddenly for no visible reason Blake staggered. "Harbour-boy?" the real Neeshka asked as one of his hands went to his chest and the Memory-folk ignored this.

"A twitch from the curse," replied Blake. "I think the Faceless Man is near."

"Good, we can finish this," Neeshka nodded. After a moment she approached the memory of herself and examined it. "Does my tail really look that big?"

"Your tail looks beautiful," said Blake, adapting the advice he had been given regarding ladies' rears, as well as speaking with sincerity, "slender but curvy in all the right places."

Neeshka turned and grinned to Blake. "Good answer," she said before turning back to 'herself'. "Hello me!"

"Well, that was a lot of fun," Memory-Neeshka replied. "They don't seem to carry any coin though."

"I do not sound like that!" said Neeshka, turning back to Blake to glare rather than grin at him.

"Of course not," Blake replied, drawing on his reserves of diplomacy, "the memory must have been distorted by the presence of the Faceless Man nearby."

This seemed to not be as good an answer as the one he had managed about her tail as Neeshka continued to glare. Hoping that she would stop if there was something else to think about, and preferring mortal combat to suffering that look, Blake led the way up towards the Keep itself. He could still feel Neeshka's eyes burning into his back like the scorching rays from the Wall of the Faithless but tried to concentrate on the glowing spirit form, almost like an outline, that was waiting to meet them with a scythe in its hands.

The Faceless Man began to charge but Blake had time to chant and twitch his hands and cast a Disintegrate that staggered their foe back as a chunk of his torso vanished and then swirled and reformed. This stagger had taken his scythe out of line and Neeshka had continued forward as Blake paused to cast. Her rapier stabbed at the Faceless Man's left thigh and sliced across it. Despite having to be careful of the wall of the keep she easily dodged aside as he tried to bring his scythe back down and around at her. As the Faceless Man turned to his right with his blow Blake stabbed him in the gut, letting this turn cut the wound wider before he twisted his sword in it. Blake began to pull his sword back, also trying to apply pressure to his right as he did to cut the wound wider still, but suddenly there was nothing to be cutting against as the Faceless Man faded and the closed doors of the Keep sprang open.

"That was…quick," Neeshka blinked, halting in mid-attack. Her expression was eloquent that she had been expecting rather more of a fight.

"It is not over yet," replied Blake, easing Neeshka's surprise as he dashed her hopes. "That was a retreat rather than a defeat and I can feel him gathering more of the hunger of the curse to him so he will be stronger next time."

"Did you notice that mask?" Neeshka asked. "It looked like what you had been finding pieces of…"

"Which means it also looks like what appears behind me?" asked Blake in return, continuing when Neeshka nodded. "Which would confirm that was the main remnant of Akachi. We had better get inside and help as Kana and maybe Katriona and whatever troops are within the keep will need it."

They entered the doors but the hall ahead, which they had seen past those doors, shimmered and reformed as if there had been a hidden portal. As the world changed they found themselves outside in a village that was familiar to Blake in this state though Neeshka had seen it more often after it had been destroyed than before. He looked around in puzzlement and annoyance as he recognised where they were despite this Dreamscape also being grey and misty.

"What in the Hells?" Blake exclaimed. "I know West Harbour was a small village, and Crossroad Keep quite large…but one would not fit inside the other. Not even if we extended the keep back into the hillside."

"Just hit the things and figure out the symbolism later harbour-boy!" said Neeshka, pointing at the nearby group.

Blake nodded as he saw that the fighting had already begun here rather than things needing to form out of the mists. It looked as if they had two allies here battling the mockeries, Bevil and… "Is that Lorne?"

"Looks like him, and you have a strange mind as here comes Cormick, being chased by more of those things."

Blake glanced that way and then back at the Starling brothers. It seemed that Cormick was going to join them so there was the question of whether to wait for him to draw more of the mockeries into a spell of Firebrand or to cast that now to sooner help the Starlings. Or to just cast two. Blake glanced again at Cormick to judge how long he would take to reach the Starlings and this time he noticed another group of mockeries surrounding a single small figure. He caught a glimpse of blond hair and of the face before the girl fell and Blake almost did, staggering nearly to one knee as the mockeries hacked at something on the ground. With an effort Blake rose and concentrated and chanted and the large sonic energy ball of a Cacophonic Burst formed in front of him to arc away like a catapult stone into that group. He staggered again as that smashed into them, destroying the one it directly hit and shaking at the others as its sound spread out across them.

"Harbour-boy?" Neeshka asked in concern as this time Blake did drop onto that knee. "Friend there?"

"Memory there, they killed already," replied Blake, fighting to speak as he also fought against the backlash. "Was Amie. Girl I knew in West Harbour. Fellow student of Wizard Tarmas." Blake drew in a deep breath at the end of each terse sentence. "Killed by Githyanki mage in attack when tried to help Tarmas. Won mage contest at last Harvest Fair earlier that day." His voice was beginning to increase in volume as his anger at what the curse was trying to steal from him also increased. "Had too much Harvest Mead and danced on a table after the previous Fair… I will not forget, I will not forget…"

Neeshka alternated concerned looks between her harbour-boy and the mockeries as his voice trailed off and they recovered from the effects of the Cacophonic Burst and realised where the attack had come from. The empty eyesockets of the skull within their hoods fixed on her and Blake. Neeshka squared her slender jaw; they would have to get through her to get to him so she gave him a pat on the shoulder before she moved to meet them. Before she could step forward protectively though that pat seemed to break his daze and she paused as he gave her and then the approaching mockeries a wide-eyed look.

Blake gave a growl almost worthy of Okku as he stood and gathered arcane power to himself. "I will not forget," he repeated more calmly, "I remember. And Akachi be damned, I will not relinquish any part of myself to him."

Neeshka shivered a little as her harbour-boy chanted and she realised he had moved past fury and into the sort of cold calm killing rage that she'd more often seen in the sort of people who were just as ready to stab you as to speak to you. Or even readier as they were more practiced at stabbing than speaking. This could be dangerous for Akachi as this sort of anger didn't burn itself out as easily and his fate depended on how merciful her harbour-boy felt.

Blake finished his spellcasting and a Meteor Swarm streaked down past him. With satisfaction Blake noted that he had judged the speed of their advance correctly so the area he had aimed at was the area the approaching mockeries of Akachi were in. The huge rocks trailing fire behind them smashed into the mockeries and the ground around them. Even the small clumps of earth and the pebbles they threw up as they cratered the soil were enough to hurt the robed figures, or would have been if they had not already been pulverised by the meteors more directly.

"Why have I never seen you do that before?" asked Neeshka, her eyes a little wide as she saw the devastation.

"Because I could not in armour until I learned to not need gestures," Blake replied as he peered into the dust. "Because I was not sure where the meteors would come from if I tried using it while we were inside a building or underground. Which we often are."

Blake grunted as the dust cleared enough to confirm that group had been obliterated. He turned to look at the mockeries surrounding the Starlings and Cormick and started to chant and gather power again. Neeshka waited and was not surprised as a few seconds later a large ball of fire formed in front of her harbour-boy to split and arc away in smaller pieces into the robed figures. Having finished his spell of Firebrand Blake began to advance and started to speak again.

"And Okku tends to charge the foe, and get too close to them for me to use it before I decide whether to use it, and at the Gate I thought it would throw up too much dust and hinder the people on Sey'ryu. Which it did when that Wizard cast it."

The trio of memories were doing quite well as they worked together with Memory-Bevil and Memory-Cormick to either side of the larger Memory-Lorne, protecting his flanks with themselves and their chainmail and their shields as he struck out with the huge sword that even he needed both hands to use. They had already destroyed several of the mockeries and as the survivors of the two groups staggered with the impact of Blake's Firebrand Memory-Lorne swept another one's head off, taking half a shoulder with it, and Memory-Bevil stabbed and killed another as his Longsword shattered its sternum and spine.

One mockery turned and charged at Blake and Neeshka, its robes smouldering as it swung its scythe. Blake calmly met this attack and brought his sword down to take one skeletal hand off at the wrist before bringing it back to stab it into the mockery's body. He twisted as he pulled his sword back so he punched his shield forward to drive the edge of it into the mockery and knock it off his blade and to the ground. Neeshka stepped in quickly as it tried to move and found how difficult that was with so many broken bones. Thankful that her boots had nicely armoured toecaps that protected them against this as well as the teeth of screaming faces she kicked it in the side of the head and with a crunch it lay still.

As another turned Memory-Cormick cut at its upper arm with his sword. This blow seemed a little misjudged as there was no flesh to slice. Perhaps Blake's image of Cormick as a Watchman who would prefer to disable and arrest rather than kill had too affected this memory version of him. The mockery half turned back as it felt the cloth part and the scrape of the blade across its bone. It was not sure which way to turn but Memory-Lorne solved the problem of that decision for it by crunching his sword down into where its neck and shoulder would join and diagonally out the other side of its torso.

Blake nodded towards the continued cooperation. "You might be right that my mind is strange, my sweet," he began to say to Neeshka, "but I think…" He broke off in sudden realisation. "I… oh Hells!"

He started away down the road, then stopped and looked around, and then paused and began to chant. The Weave responded and a Greater Missile Storm flurried from his hands and into the group of mockeries but Blake did not wait to see the results before turning again and resuming his run. Neeshka had been surprised by his retreat and was even more surprised by how fast her harbour-boy was moving. This was a definite run rather than the distance-covering jog the weight of his armour required even with the aid of his belt of strength.

"Harbour-boy?" Neeshka asked, feeling a twinge of annoyance that she had to ask rather than him explaining without prompting.

"This way," replied Blake, trying not to look at Amie's mutilated corpse as they passed. He couldn't stop himself from a quick glance that he regretted as it had been hacked badly by the scythes and then its skin patterned with the red of ruptured blood vessels beneath it by his Cacophonic Burst. "Hurry."

"Anywhere you go," Neeshka said reassuringly as the memories of Lorne, Cormick, and Bevil took advantage of the Aspects of Hunger being staggered. However, although she loved him enough to follow, she still wanted to know where they were going. "But… why?"

"Seeing those three together was not that strange," said Blake, looking around and trying to listen for something. "I had wished that Lorne could have overcome his bitterness towards Cormick and returned to Neverwinter's service, though by the time I killed him he had already done too much evil." Blake paused and hoped Tymorra would bless him with luck. "But there was still that wish that Bevil and his brother and Cormick could have fought alongside each other…"

"And we saw that wish. So?"

"So we also saw Amie overwhelmed and killed," sighed Blake, "just as my memories of her were of her being overwhelmed, seriously outmatched, by the Githyanki mage and killed. These are my memories and my wishes."

"But we saw Bishop and Sand before," Neeshka pointed out, "and they tried to kill us, so why…"

Blake paused as he heard what he was dreading. "Why were they on our side?" he asked. Neeshka nodded so as Blake set off again he continued. "I don't know, perhaps because we were at Crossroad Keep and from the state of disrepair it was long before their betrayal. This could explain why Elanee was there as it was also long before she returned to the circle. So this would fit with my memories and unfortunately… blast!"

Near the stream that flowed through the village a lone Elf was fighting four of the mockeries. Blake sighed and then charged, Neeshka, at his heels to the attack. He'd had to hurry enough in the search that he was beginning to feel the effects but even in this Dreamscape Okku's gift of extra endurance aided him. One mockery managed to turn in time to attempt to block Blake's sword with its scythe. It managed to angle this better than the one that Blake's memory of Casavir had finished off back in the memory of Crossroad Keep and for a moment Blake's sword was slightly trapped in the wood of the scythe shaft.

Then Neeshka stabbed it in the shoulder joint and as she twisted her rapier and its magic discharged she managed to pop its arm free. For most mortal creatures of that shape a dislocated shoulder was painful but not as serious as it could be popped back into place. However the mockery had no flesh to keep its arm attached and this limb sagged away and began to slide out of its sleeve. Without the support of this arm's hand the scythe began to turn in the mockery's other hand and Blake was able to twist his sword and free it.

He brought his sword up to hold it horizontally in front of his face and then punched it forward in a short sharp blow. This did not have a great deal of power behind it but it was precise and as his sword blade struck the mockery in the mouth it caused a similar wound to where people had tried to clench a dagger between their teeth. The jawbone and teeth shattered under the impact and as the magic discharged from Blake's sword into the mockery's skull. It fell back to sprawl on the ground and Blake stabbed down through its skull and slightly into the soil beneath.

Meanwhile Neeshka had dodged the scythe sweep of another mockery and in return had stabbed it in the guts. Unfortunately it had no guts to stab and the robes over the skeleton made it had to tell where the bones beneath were. Fortunately Neeshka was deft and precise enough that she had found its lower spine and the mockery found its legs no longer worked. It began to fall forward as Neeshka drew her rapier back but she brought her right hand back in an uppercut that would have honoured any Harvest Brawl. Aside, of course, that she was not stupid enough to meet bone with her delicate fingers. She met it instead with her bracer-blade that sliced up through the mockery's jaw and the skull above as Neeshka's fist passed just in front of the descending face.

Neeshka stepped back, giving Blake a grin at her success and with battle lust. "Unfortunately?" she asked, remembering the last thing her harbour-boy had said.

"Unfortunately my memories are of my father being aloof, and isolated, and remaining apart from the rest of the village…"

A third mockery of Akachi turned towards Blake. Memory-Daeghun nocked and loosed another arrow into it through the side of its hood and this was one arrow too many for its skull to remain intact. It fell as the cracks joined and merged and as arrows and fragments of bone fell from its hood. With a frown Blake's memory of his foster-father turned to him.

"Your assistance was timely, child, but not necessary," Memory-Daeghun informed him. "Look to yourself."

"See what I mean?" Blake commented to Neeshka. She nodded in sympathy and as they moved apart and around to surround the final mockery Blake added. "Even our house was on the other side of the stream from most of the village."

This final mockery swept its scythe at Blake who dodged back. Neeshka darted in and sliced her rapier through it but, for once, only managed to cut cloth rather than find the bone beneath and sever its spine. Memory-Daeghun had more luck and his arrow embedded itself in one shoulder blade. How many of the arrows sticking out from the mockery were held by more than cloth was unclear but it seemed enough wounds had been inflicted on it for these to begin to tell. Blake attacked and swung his sword in a forehand arc into the mockery's upper left arm and through this into its ribcage.

Rather than string another arrow Memory-Daeghun kicked the mockery to force it further off balance and this let Neeshka move in and trip it. It landed and sprawled and started to rise with its one working arm but Blake raised his shield and then drove the narrow curve of its lower point down and into its skull. The metal rim proved the harder and the skull shattered as the mockery was driven back down to the ground, this time to make no attempt to rise again. Blake straightened from the blow and then gasped as his hand clutched at his chest.

"Akachi?" Neeshka asked, remembering that reaction.

"It seems we gave Cormick, Lorne, and Bevil enough aid for them to defeat the enemies they were facing," Blake nodded to her "and those and these were all there was. So now another Faceless Man has appeared, and as I feared this one does feel stronger."

"Then let your sexy Tiefling weaken it," grinned Neeshka.

Blake paused and then reluctantly nodded. She seemed to have a plan and that she was here in this Dreamscape showed how impossible it would be to dissuade her from risking herself. Neeshka hesitated for another second or two as she waited in case Blake was going to make that attempt anyway and then, watched impassively by his memory of his foster-father, she began explaining her idea and what she wanted him to do.

Some minutes later a clanking filled the Dreamscape's still air as Blake advanced down the road. He could feel the general direction in which he would find the Faceless Man and so it was not a surprise when he saw the glowing outlined figure standing near the scar where the Sword of Gith had been broken and been reformed decades later by Zhjave's ceremony. The spider like columns of eyes on the mask turned toward him and the Faceless Man raised his scythe in preparation for battle. Blake hefted his sword in response and continued to advance.

But then, now Blake had his attention, Neeshka appeared and the Faceless Man's back bowed in pain as Neeshka's rapier carved across the small of it. He turned and swept his scythe at Neeshka but was too slow as she was already jumping back. She still thought Blake had been a spoilsport to insist that she use some magical invisibility rather than just the concealment of the very slight mist but if he hadn't worried about her then he wouldn't be her sweetie harbour-boy. Blake moved to one side as the Faceless Man turned and suddenly he was making far less noise as he stopped deliberately shaking and trying to rattle his armour as a distraction.

Arcane power gathered to Blake's command as he chanted and a ray of Disintegrate hissed from his hand and into the Faceless Man's back. The satisfaction of striking him in almost the same place as Neeshka had sliced across was replaced by annoyance as Blake saw how little effect his spell had. As the Faceless Man started to turn towards Blake Neeshka darted forward, then retreated as the Faceless Man began turning back towards her again. She'd have liked to stab him in the back again but keeping him turning and off-balance was almost as good.

"What happened there?" Neeshka asked.

"That spell is always a gamble," replied Blake, moving in a little closer and regaining the Faceless Man's attention. "It can hurt a lot or barely at all if something is tough enough to resist. This one is stronger."

"I noticed that, harbour-boy," Neeshka commented, "when my rapier barely cut into him."

The three of them began circling each other with Blake and Neeshka both trying to distract the Faceless Man long enough for the other to attack him. A very slight smile came to Blake's face as he started chanting loudly and making broad arcane gestures. His words seemed to be reaching a crescendo so the Faceless Man charged to attack Blake before he could finish the spell and while he was still distracted. Neeshka sprang forward and her rapier flicked out ahead of her in a thrust the Faceless Man had to twist aside from to make it only a glancing wound.

Then Blake attacked with a low sweeping blow of his sword at the Faceless Man's legs. Blake had not learned to cast spells without speaking but he had learned that Mystra, The Mother of Magic, and Azuth, Lord of Spells, cared more that the arcane words and the thoughts behind them were clear rather than loud. However speaking in his more normal tones and making only his habitual slight gestures would not have been as good a distraction as almost shouting nonsense and waving his arms about to only pretend to be casting a spell.

The Faceless Man parried Blake's blow and managed to lock the sword and scythe blades together. Blake grunted slightly as, even with the support his gauntlet gave, he felt the strain on his wrist as his magic enhanced strength pushed against the strength of the Faceless Man. They twisted at their weapons for a few moments as Blake tried to free his sword and the Faceless Man tried to use the greater leverage his scythe shaft gave him to disarm Blake. Neeshka took a chance and reversed her grip on her rapier. She glided in and raised her sword above her head, bringing her other hand onto the hilt, and used the strength of both arms and her back to stab this down into the Faceless Man's back.

Her sword did not go quite straight through the outlined figure as at the last moment he disengaged his scythe from Blake's sword and started to turn. The last moment before the blade struck was a few moments too late for his movement to make much difference though. It still ran him through from shoulder blade to the diagonally opposite pectoral and at least six inches of magically enhanced blade emerged from his chest. The lack of an actual shoulder blade to shatter or pectoral muscle to pierce or heart and blood vessels between them to rupture did not stop the Faceless Man from staggering as the magic discharged into his form.

Neeshka let go of her rapier and stepped back as Blake swung his far larger sword in at the Faceless Man's waist. The edge of it connected and cut in but not as deeply as Blake had hoped and it did not cut much deeper as he withdrew his sword back through the wound. As Blake withdrew his weapon the Faceless Man tried to strike back. Blake 'oofed' from the impact of the scythe shaft across his right side but the Faceless Man had misjudged the distance enough that all the blade of the scythe did was tear at Blake's cloak just behind his back.

The Faceless Man yanked at his scythe to bring the edge of the blade in across Blake's back. Rather than risk this finding the gap between his plates at his waist Blake moved with the pull and shoved his shield forward so the blade-ridge on its face pressed into the Faceless Man's chest. They would have been nose to nose if the mask the Faceless Man was wearing had a nose rather than just an abundance of glowing eyespots. Then Blake let the tip of his sword dip towards the ground and stabbed his opponent in the foot and calf.

Neeshka darted in and yanked her rapier back out of the Faceless Man, more magic discharging from it as it slid from him and as he hopped slightly to keep his balance with the wound to his leg. Blake managed to disentangle himself to step back to get the distance for a proper swing. He tensed and twisted and brought his sword up slightly diagonally to aim for the wound he had inflicted but cut it further open at a different angle. Whether it was that he struck that existing wound or that the Faceless Man was weakening Blake was not sure but this time his sword cut in deeper. Before he could twist the blade or try to push it deeper or pull it free the Faceless Man faded into nothing but an after-image.

"Dammit, he got away again," Blake cursed.

"At least he was kind enough to leave us a portal to follow him through," smiled Neeshka.

Blake nodded and started to walk towards this portal. There did not seem any magic he could cast to improve their skills that he had not already and even if he thought there was some way to convince Neeshka to remain behind he was not sure he could win without her help. A pair of patches of mist started to become more solid and Blake's sword twitched up in response. Then he relaxed very slightly as those patches became the Red Woman and The Boy.

"Blake, wait," the Red Woman said urgently. "You have cornered the Faceless Man in the deepest recesses of your soul. He has nowhere left to run."

"Good, it is long past time to end this, though if he is cornered he will likely fight even harder."

"We promised we would be here at the end," the Red Woman continued, "and so we are. We know how little we have done, in truth, but we have tried to help you and guide you when we could."

"So what are you really?" asked Blake. "You seem more than mere memories."

"In a way we are a remnant of what Akachi was," the Red Woman said. "His memories of his love and his brother were so strong, so important to him, that pieces of his mind refused to relinquish their links to them. Would not be dragged away from them even by the Hunger of the Wall. And just as the memories at our core could gather those fragments of Akachi's mind so can we, with your help, restore most of what he was."

"The Faceless Man is waiting for you beyond that portal," added The Boy, "and he has does not wish to remember. Knowing what he was would also mean knowing how much he has lost and that pain is too much for him. If we face him while he is still strong then he would scatter us like smoke."

"But if you can defeat him," the Red Woman continued, "restrain him, then we can ease him through his pain. Help him past where all he would know was how much he had lost and to where he would begin to remember and regain those parts of him.

"He's forgotten us, forgotten what he was," said The Boy. "But you've gathered his essence, in the fragments of the mask, and now it's whole again."

Blake realised The Boy's words were true and reached into his magic bag. The three pieces had joined seamlessly together, he could feel this contained memories and thoughts, and somehow, despite Myrkul's efforts, a link to all of what Akachi had once been. Blake looked a moment longer at the mask and then nodded. "And as Kelemvor said, if Akachi remembers who he was then he can be freed from his hunger."

"He will no longer be empty and his hunger will end," the Red Woman confirmed.

"Understood," nodded Blake. "Is there anything more?"

"The Faceless Man will try to slay you, or devour your spirit," the Red Woman replied. "If you wear the mask it will provide some protection from his hunger and in the depths of your soul your own may be called upon as often as you wish. Use it against him if you can."

Blake gave her a very dubious look but before he could decide how or whether to respond to that last suggestion the Red Woman and The Boy had vanished. There was just the portal and the dreary grey Dreamscape of West Harbour around them. Neeshka had been listening in silence but now she let out a low whistle.

"Sheesh, they're lucky you're such a nice guy."

"If you mean the temptation to just destroy Akachi for all the trouble he caused with his Crusade," Blake said, turning towards her, "and the pain he has caused us…"

"I do."

"Then do not think I am not tempted, destroying him would fulfil Okku's oath and end this," Blake admitted as he frowned at the portal. "This is not good. That last fight was not the toughest we have faced together but it was more difficult than the one before. He'll be even stronger this time and we don't know if we will have any allies or any chance at taking him by surprise."

"Not that we have any choice about fighting him or how to get to him," Neeshka smiled ruefully. "Besides I've got your back harbour-boy."

"For which I am very grateful, and which I never doubt," replied Blake, smiling back as he took off his helmet.

Neeshka cared little for Akachi but she had hoped that reminding Blake he was 'nice' would help him avoid doing something he'd later regret. It was unfortunate for her efforts that her smile worked so far to counter her words. She'd reminded Blake he was 'nice' but the sight of her and this smile had reminded Blake of his resolve that if there was serious danger to her then Akachi would lose his chance at being restored. Disappointing the Red Woman and The Boy would be far less regrettable than any harm to Neeshka, however 'nasty' he had to be in the process.

Blake removed his helmet and put it away but to his annoyance the straps of the mask did not want to fit over the chainmail hood. With a sigh he lowered this to leave his head and neck completely unarmoured.

"That does not suit you harbour-boy," Neeshka commented as he donned the mask. "Doesn't go well with your beard as a fringe at the bottom."

"I'd rather wear my helmet," agreed Blake, tightening one of the straps, "but there might be more to this mask than the magic I can sense so I had better follow the Red Woman's advice. Regarding this at least."

With a deep breath Blake stepped forward into the portal. Rather than finding a familiar place waiting for them he found they were at the edge of a small area of light and rather than being able to try to surprise him the Faceless Man was already there and charging across the bare sandy soil towards them. There was a sensation of peace and calm in the air but Blake doubted that had he been asked to imagine the 'deepest recesses' of his soul he'd have pictured something so featureless.

Neeshka moved out to the left to flank the Faceless Man as Blake chanted and sent a Vitriolic Sphere to burst over him. With the speed of the Faceless Man's approach the thinner acid that splashed out almost caught Blake as well and he looked sour as he saw that though the thicker acid was clinging to the outlined form it was not doing much. Like Okku this enemy had no real physical form for acid to react with and corrode.

"No allies," groused Blake as he moved to the right.

"We might be able to use the…" Neeshka began to say, breaking off as the Faceless Man halted his charge and began backing away towards the centre of the area of light. "Or maybe not," she added.

Blake nodded as he realised Neeshka was going to suggest using the darkness for surprise attacks and that the Faceless Man had realised the same thing. Whether this was because he was smarter than an empty creature of pure hunger might be assumed to be or whether he had gained insight from Blake just as Blake had gained insight from Akachi's memories was uncertain. The Faceless Man assumed a guard position and circling around behind him Neeshka caught Blake's eye.

She wiggled the fingers of her shield arm to Blake as they moved along the edges of the light and then made a shoving motion. Blake nodded to her again as he hoped he was interpreting her signals correctly. He did have spells he could cast and could move back even further out of scythe range to cast them. Neeshka sheathed her sword and stepped back, past the edge of the darkness and more out of sight, and Blake began to recite an incantation. Back in the Dreamscape of West Harbour he had surprised Neeshka by devastating an area with a Meteor Swarm but there was another way to use that spell.

Hoping he was right about her intentions, and she was not sneaking forward invisibly as he cast, Blake channelled the power of the Weave. The meteors fell but their paths were subtly different from before and each other as rather than spread across an area they were all converging on a single point. That point was, of course, the Faceless Man and he staggered as the first meteor of the concentrated barrage Blake had chosen slammed into him. As more of these struck home or narrowly missed and churned up the dust around the outlined figure arrows started to streak in from the darkness as well.

This was as much a relief to Blake, as it showed his beloved was still out there and he had understood her intentions correctly, as it was extra pain for the Faceless Man. Neeshka was aiming a little blind with all the dirt in the air but she had plenty of arrows. Blake concentrated again and chanted to send a Greater Missile Storm to join these arrows and the still falling meteors. But seeing these missiles arc around and into the Faceless Man was the last thing Blake saw before the haze of dust became too thick.

Blake waited and peered through the eyeholes of the mask as he reconsidered whether he should have left his helmet on. Having metal protecting most of his head but leaving his face uncovered to be able to breathe and see better was something he preferred to this mask and the reverse. The final straggler of the Meteor Swarm fell and, cautious in case the Faceless Man was charging, Blake began a third spell. He could not see precisely where he was aiming but he saw no need to conserve his magic. The crackling ball of a Scintillating Sphere formed and streaked away from Blake towards the general area he thought the Faceless Man might be. Electricity sparked through the dust cloud and as the dust was charged by this the particles repelled each other and the cloud cleared a fraction sooner.

To Blake's annoyance the Faceless Man was still standing. Although he had great smears across his form where meteors had struck, smaller discoloured patches where the magical missiles had hit him and discharged, some arrows sticking out of him, and by his name had no face to show an expression this remnant of Akachi was managing to look determined as well as battered. Blake considered what to do next as it was tempting, as Neeshka put another arrow into the Faceless Man, to follow her fine example. But that would require him to drop his shield to the ground since, unlike Neeshka, his bow and his shield were both large enough to get in each other's way.

While he still had some spells that would inflict as much harm, or more, on the Faceless Man as the arrows his Longbow created it seemed better to rely on them and keep his sword in hand and shield on arm for any surprises. Such as whatever the Faceless Man might be planning now he had begun to advance. Blake retreated slightly and moved to the side, skirting the edge of the darkness, to let Neeshka continue to have a good angle for loosing arrows. These did not seem to be doing much as they were barely piercing before they were pushed out as the Faceless Man's form closed up again. But 'not much' was better than nothing.

After a few moments and several more arrows Blake paused in his shuffling as he decided to take the chance he had enough distance to cast a spell. He started to chant and in response the Faceless Man tried to charge down this attempt. There was too much distance to cover though and before the Faceless Man could get within scythe range Blake had finished his spell and sent a Delayed Action Fireball to meet him. Hitting a target directly there was no delay as it struck and detonated against the Faceless Man in the middle of his body and the middle of a stride. He flinched back as his charge stopped dead and the outline of his form in that area dimmed.

Blake started moving forward to follow up his attack. Retreating to regain enough distance for another spell would work but Blake's instinct was to stagger the foe with his magic and finish them with his blade. That instinct played him false here however as the Faceless Man straightened and a tentacled form Blake had never fully seen before but instantly recognised shimmered into existence behind him. The tentacles waved and Blake stiffened as he felt as if he was gravel and a great surge of water had just passed through him and washed something of him out and away with it. The dimmed section of the Faceless Man's outline brightened again as he fed and replenished himself.

"Blake!" Neeshka almost screamed, shifting her aim and cursing as the arrows passed through the tentacled thing rather than harm it.

"Ilmater's suffering," coughed Blake, staggering back a little as he regained his balance, "that hurt."

"Well do it back to him then!"

"No," replied Blake stubbornly, continuing to retreat. "I have not willingly devoured a spirit yet and I am not starting now."

"Don't be mule headed," Neeshka said, impatience mixed with love in her voice as she put another arrow into the Faceless Man, "the Red Woman told you to use your hunger and this doesn't count."

"I mistrust her advice," grumbled Blake, with very great understatement.

He looked at the Faceless Man and decided to try again what had worked before. The Faceless Man seemed to have the same idea as rather than charge to use his scythe he charged more slowly to get back within range of his Hunger. A more normal Fireball flew away from Blake but the delay his spellcasting had caused to his retreat was enough that almost simultaneously the tentacled form reappeared behind the Faceless Man. They both crumpled slightly as one had magical fire burn into his immaterial form and the other was drained towards death. Blake seemed to have come off worse as once more his life force was stolen to repair the few wounds his spell had caused.

There was a slight thud from the darkness as Neeshka dropped her bow and this was followed by a hiss as her rapier blade slid out past the metal of her scabbard guard. Blake was swaying a little but as he saw his sweetheart charging from the darkness he shouted a battle cry to keep the Faceless Man's attention on him and charged. The Faceless Man met Blake's charge and his scythe came down in an attempt to punch the tip of its blade through Blake's breastplate. Despite the lingering weakness in his limbs Blake managed to twist aside and struck at the top of the descending scythe shaft to drive it on down into the ground. With that to brace one end Blake ground the blade-ridge of his shield along the shaft and across the Faceless Man's lead hand. Rather horridly though that only smeared the outline and form along the wood like paint.

Despite this smearing the Faceless Man's grip on his scythe still seemed firm as he pulled the blade out of the ground and brought the butt end of the shaft sweeping up and across. Blake had to jump back to avoid this striking him in the chin. The Faceless Man continued his turn as he brought the blade of his scythe up and twisted it to sweep his scythe in a high horizontal arc with the blade pointing along that arc. Neeshka had to duck to avoid being decapitated as the scythe swept past above her. The Faceless Man paused almost facing her and with his back almost to Blake as his hand reformed.

Blake had managed to regain his balance and started forward to attack this tempting target, but the Faceless Man twisted back slightly and drove the butt end of his scythe shaft straight out. There was a slightly booming thump as this thrust met the wood of Blake's shield and then as it scraped across the face of it a clink as the metal ferrule met the metal blade-ridge. Blake didn't resist how this impact twisted him a little to his left as that was the direction he wanted to turn to bring his sword forward in a thrust. This thrust grazed across the Faceless Man's midriff and distracted him enough for Neeshka to straighten and stab her rapier up at his waist. To her annoyance this didn't cut in and under the Faceless Man's ribs, if he had such, but only opened a long shallow wound along his left side.

"Like fighting Okku," Neeshka complained, "hard to cut him and he heals fast."

"Like fighting Okku," growled Blake, his lip curving into a snarl under the mask, "we work together and he will fall."

The Faceless Man had his scythe held diagonally across his body in a position from which he could either guard himself or attack. Blake hoped he was 'reading' the weapon and the posture correctly and struck at the Faceless Man's right knee. This was hard to bring the scythe blade down or the scythe shaft across to block and the edge of Blake's sword carved across that joint. The Faceless Man nearly fell to his right but rather than fight the momentum he used that to swing his scythe down and to his left to drive Blake back, and used the way he was staggering sideways to get out from between his foes. As he turned to face them the outline around his knee gradually brightened as the dimness Blake's cut had caused spread and diluted.

Blake and Neeshka started to move and to move apart and widen the angle between them to attack from different directions again. The Faceless Man's mask and body turned between them as he tried to watch them both and as he moved his scythe into a vertical position to be able to strike either left or right. Then he took his right hand off his scythe and, clenching his left hand around the shaft, brought his clenched fists towards each other in front of him.

"Careful!" Neeshka warned.

"He didn't have to do that to release his hunger before," replied Blake, stepping to his left away from where the eyespots of the Faceless Man's mask seemed to be pointing, "and it looks more like he is going to fa…"

Suddenly a Halfling sized duplicate of the Faceless Man appeared as magic swirled in front of him. It hefted its similarly smaller scythe and rushed at Neeshka who had to parry its attack as Blake charged in at its full-size 'parent'. The Faceless Man hurriedly grabbed at the shaft of his scythe and turned to his right.

"I was going to say break wind," continued Blake, thrusting his sword out at the Faceless Man's chest.

"Sure you were," Neeshka replied, having a little trouble parrying attacks coming in at her knees and thighs. She stabbed down and missed and wondered if she had been this annoying to the various Giants and taller creatures they had fought.

"I was," said Blake. His thrust had been deflected to his left so he tried a quick backhanded twitch of his blade at the Faceless Man's neck. This met the scythe shaft so Blake pilled back. "But it looks like constipation was more like it. Or childbirth."

Neeshka resorted to the sort of crude tactics her harbour-boy sometimes displayed and kicked the small duplicate in its mask with the heel of her boot. "And giving birth is bad enough, even with babies generally being just a little smaller…"

"And taking longer to learn to walk…" replied Blake, stopping as he felt something now the duplicate had been wounded. "Wait… cover me please…"

"I know we were talking about babies," Neeshka commented, raising one delicate eyebrow as she moved back to guard Blake, "but this is hardly the time or place for me to 'cover' you…"

The small duplicate had staggered back an impressive distance and seemed dazed after Neeshka's kick so for now the only threat was the Faceless Man himself who Neeshka kept back with a flurry of rapier strikes. Blake concentrated and felt out with the senses he had developed over their travels. This took long enough that the small duplicate had recovered enough to be approaching them but that made Blake smile more.

"We do have more variety, rather than a bull on a cow where he can only cover her, but more important, for now, is that this idiot might have made a bad mistake."

Blake concentrated again and this time he released some of the bonds around his curse. The tentacled form appeared behind him and as its tentacles waved the small duplicate jerked around as if a red-hot poker had been inserted where such things should not go. Some of the weariness left Blake's posture as the energy flowed out of that victim and through the tentacled form into him. While Blake was distracted by this the Faceless Man tried to bring his scythe down onto him.

"I thought you said you weren't going to use that," Neeshka reminded Blake, stepping in front of him and sweeping her small shield up in a backhanded blow to meet the shaft of the descending scythe.

The tines of one of her small shield's 'forks' scraped along the wood as she knocked the scythe aside. Although she had deflected it and had not tried to meet it directly the force of the Faceless Man's blow still drove Neeshka's arm back and the blade of the scythe was long enough to almost graze her leather pauldron. She stabbed her rapier forward in a short in-and-out thrust into the Faceless Man's middle. He pulled his scythe free of her shield tine and staggered back slightly.

"I was not going to devour any spirits," Blake replied, "but this thing he created is vulnerable to being sent to some form of rest." Once more he concentrated and the tentacled form reappeared, but this time as its tentacles writhed nothing seemed to happen and the small duplicate did not dim further. "Beshaba, it was vulnerable once I should say."

Having been drained once and had a second attempt made on it the small duplicate seemed to bear some grudge against Blake. Its short legs almost blurred as it charged in and swept its scythe at Blake's legs. With his larger shield Blake was able to just drop the bottom of that down to block the surprisingly hard blow rather than needing to dodge it. Blake chopped his sword down into the small duplicate's torso, cutting a long way through it from shoulder towards waist before it faded away from around his blade.

Blake turned and started to move towards the Faceless Man again. As he advanced a sweep from the Faceless Man's scythe drove Neeshka back. Her shield arm wasn't moving with its normal grace so it looked as if she had jarred and numbed it when she protected Blake and deflected the blow aimed at him. One favour would deserve another, even if this were not the woman he loved, so Blake broke into a charge to protect her in return. The Faceless Man turned and used the moment between Neeshka retreating and Blake arriving to summon his hunger.

"Aaaaaahhccckk!" Blake exclaimed as the tentacles waved and he staggered. He barely managed to avoid falling to one knee as his legs weakened in mid-stride.

Neeshka bounded back to his side to protect him again, making it two favours he owed her if either was really keeping count. "Are you sure about not doing it back to him?"

"No, not sure," Blake replied, panting for breath a little beneath the mask. "But Harbourman are not noted for a lack of stubbornness."

"What about harbour-boys?" smiled Neeshka, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

"Them neither," Blake smiled back, realising as he did that this expression was hidden by this stuffy mask.

The exchange of words and the delay while Blake regained his wind was enough time for the Faceless Man to take his right hand off his scythe again. His fists came together in front of him and more magic swirled as his knees bent a little and he looked constipated. Another Halfling sized duplicate of him appeared and sprang forward to try to kill them with its small scythe.

"Not again!" Neeshka complained.

"Wound it, please," replied Blake, his eyes narrowing as he looked at it.

Neeshka frowned slightly at Blake as she'd prefer to kill this as soon as possible rather than holding back. But she trusted her harbour-boy so she nodded as the Faceless Man and his small duplicate attacked. Neeshka was slightly closer to them and they were well coordinated so she had to dodge as both scythes swept in at her at their different heights. As one blade passed in front of her bosom and one in front of her thighs she managed to flick her rapier across the small duplicate's right upper chest.

This didn't seem to affect it much as it was almost as tough as its 'parent' and she'd not been able to put much power into the strike. It affected it enough however to make it easier for Blake to stab forward and manage to draw the broader tip of his sword across its left upper chest. This deeper wound affected that that shoulder and the small duplicate's left arm lost some of its strength. As Blake extended in this thrust the Faceless Man started to bring his scythe back. Blake turned to block this swing with his shield as he sidestepped away from him.

Blake's shield was tough and especially in this dreamscape where it seemed to have been restored to near pristine condition. Even without the damage it had suffered on their journeys though it was not quite tough enough to resist. The point of the scythe blade dug into it and the tip managed to pierce the layers of cross-grained laminated wood. Fortunately for Blake this was above the straps and his arm and it did not come through very far. He couldn't twist his body while his shield was slightly trapped so his counterstroke to slice his sword across the Faceless Man's thigh was with just the power of his arm and the edge only cut shallowly in.

The small duplicate moved in while Blake was engaged with the Faceless Man and, trying to compensate for its weaker left arm, attempted to swing its miniature scythe blade into the back of Blake's knees where there was a gap in the armour plates. Neeshka was not going to tolerate this attempt and stabbed down diagonally at its back, her rapier going into the rear of its already badly wounded left shoulder and down into its torso. As the magic discharged and she pulled her blade back out the small duplicate lost all strength in that arm and nearly lost its grip on its scythe.

With a slight crunch of splintering wood Blake and the Faceless Man wrenched away from each other. Blake cursed as he glanced at the inside of his shield and saw the size of the hole and how part of the inner ply had come unglued and was folded back towards him. The small duplicate was staggering away as Neeshka let it retreat wounded rather than finishing it off. Instead she sprang at the Faceless Man while he tried to regain his balance. She drove him back a little and Blake took advantage of this to pursue the small duplicate that was looking very dim around the edges. Blake concentrated and as the tentacled form appeared and its tentacles writhed the smaller version of the Faceless Man vanished completely.

"Much better," Blake said as he straightened and grinned to Neeshka. She gave him a puzzled look as they started trying to flank the Faceless Man again, her to the left and Blake to the right, so Blake continued. "I was hoping if it was badly wounded it would be unable to resist and prevent all its energy flowing."

Neeshka was glad her harbour-boy was feeling refreshed but she was not sure if the extra refreshment had been worth the extra trouble. His previous attempt, that had worked, had seemed to do him almost as much good and had weakened and slowed the small duplicate. It made more sense to her for Blake to drain them first to make them easier to kill and remove the problem of having to restrain their attacks to only wound them.

Blake and Neeshka moved in and struck with almost as much coordination as the Faceless Man and his small duplicate had shown. The Faceless Man tried to deflect these blows with his scythe held horizontally, sweeping either end up and down as he retreated a little to keep them both in front of him. Blake stabbed forward again and drew the Faceless Man into turning to his left. This time though Neeshka had waited a moment before she moved and her rapier cut into where the Faceless Man would have had his right kidney.

The Faceless Man began to swing his scythe back as Neeshka withdrew but he was a touch too slow as she was already moving to dodge and Blake had regained his balance after having his blow parried. Blake swung his sword in a horizontal forehand slice at the Faceless Man's upper left arm. This cut in deep enough as the Faceless Man's turn drew his form across the edge of the blade that his left hand relaxed and the scythe shaft slipped in it before he recovered. The Faceless Man retreated again as his outline brightened over the cuts and stabs.

Blake subtly gestured to Neeshka to hold back as he watched the Faceless Man carefully. They let him get some distance and then Blake started to quietly chant as the Faceless Man tensed and brought his clenched fists together. Just as the magic swirled and another small duplicate of the Faceless Man appeared Blake finished his spell and a Scintillating Sphere streaked from him to release its electricity over the pair. Blake had not had a clear view of the effects of the previous one he had cast and was a little underwhelmed as the sparks played over the two forms. This had injured them but whatever they were made of didn't cramp and convulse like muscles of flesh just as it didn't blister and burn from acid.

As the Faceless Man tried to finish repairing the physical wounds and those just inflicted by Blake's spell his small duplicate charged. It was not moving as fast as the previous ones had and was slightly blurry rather than outlined around the edges. Neeshka leapt forward to press the Faceless Man further back and prevent him joining his 'child' as Blake met the attack. Blake was able to take a moment longer to aim with how the small duplicate had been slowed by the Scintillating Sphere and brought his sword down to neatly clip its right arm off at the shoulder.

Though the blow was not as fatal as it would have been for the Halfling it resembled in size it was still a very serious wound. The small duplicate nearly collapsed and then vanished as Blake released his curse to again grant one of these rest. With the extra strength flowing into him came more confidence, though also concern as Blake wondered about what he was doing. This might be a dream within his own soul and this might be almost the end of the curse but he was not sure how even this more acceptable use of the hunger would affect his control if he used it too much.

Then Blake grunted with pain as he felt some of this newly gained strength leave him. He turned towards the Faceless Man and saw the tentacles of the hunger fading behind him fading as the wounds on his form also faded with the energy he had just absorbed from Blake. There was a remarkable number of the latter as the Faceless Man had needed to concentrate despite Neeshka continuing to stab at him rather than her having relented in her attacks.

"Sorry, harbour-boy," Neeshka said, giving Blake a very quick but sincere apologetic look and the Faceless Man an even quicker stab. The wound barely appeared before it faded with the afterglow of the Faceless Man's draining of Blake. "He just ignored me," she continued, stabbing him again and then a third time before he started to react to her.

Blake was feeling tempted to use his hunger more directly on the Faceless Man. His head was pounding and he was not sure if he had even felt this bad in the barrow when he had first awoken with the curse within him. However Blake was sure that Neeshka's rapier was cutting and piercing deeper than it had at the start of the fight so they were weakening the Faceless Man as much as he was weakening him. This helped Blake overcome the temptation and just move forward, staggering slightly, to simply help her chop and stab the Faceless Man apart.

"I think," Blake commented, trying to praise her prowess, "that you inflicted more wounds than he could heal with the life he stole from me."

"Which means he passed some of the wounds on to you…"

"I am getting weary," Blake admitted, "but so is he and I have more to fight for. Let us finish this and see if what we leave of it will be enough to have memory reawoken in it."

Neeshka darted forward to flurry another set of cuts and stabs at the Faceless Man. Her advantage was in her speed so she did not want to stab too deeply and risk her rapier becoming trapped. The light quick strikes she was using would have been more effective if the Faceless Man could bleed from the shallow wounds they were inflicting but, as Blake had noticed, as the Faceless Man became less able to resist her blade these wounds were becoming less shallow. Blake advanced on the Faceless Man as he retreated from this and Neeshka's attacks. Then, as Blake had both hoped and feared, the hand came off the scythe and the clenched fists came together again to produce swirling magic and a fourth small duplicate.

"How many of those can he crap out?" asked Neeshka in mixed annoyance and surprise.

"Fewer than I can grant rest to," Blake replied confidently, not voicing his qualms over using the hunger again.

Blake continued to advance on the Faceless Man as Neeshka tried to draw the attention of the small duplicate. With her speed and skill Neeshka had slowed the Faceless Man far more with the wounds she'd inflicted than he had slowed Blake with his attempts to drain him, even if those attempts had helped to heal him. As the scythe swung in at him Blake was able to sidestep this blow. He sliced his sword down and to his side and caught the Faceless Man in the right forearm. The direction of the Faceless Man's blow meant his arm was moving away from Blake and this robbed some of the power from the impact. But the sharp edge of the sword with its weight and Blake's strength behind it still cut deep enough for the Faceless Man's forearm to bend where there was no joint.

The Faceless Man's right hand lost its grip on the scythe blade and he barely managed to bring his scythe around one handed in time to block Blake's follow up blow. A sliver of wood fell to the bare soil as it was carved from the scythe shaft and the glancing impact almost knocked the scythe from the Faceless Man's grasp entirely. Seeing how much trouble its 'parent' was in the small duplicate charged in to help and forced Blake to dodge rather than bring his sword back again to continue battering at the larger version of it.

Neeshka cut at the small duplicate's lower back and as she severed whatever it used for a spine it fell. Blake felt a sudden wave of dizziness and decided that before he resumed his attack on the Faceless Man he would be wise to overcome his qualms and take whatever strength he could from this small duplicate. He had misjudged it though and rather than granting it rest as the tentacles formed and waved he 'only' drained it. The small duplicate's outline dimmed to become almost invisible as it thrashed about on the ground and then Neeshka stabbed down into the back of its head to finish it off.

Panting and only feeling slightly better than before he'd used his hunger Blake turned back to the Faceless Man who had taken the chance to retreat and stab the butt end of his scythe shaft into the dry sandy soil deep enough to support it upright. Seeing the Faceless Man was unarmed as well as almost disarmed in another sense of the word Blake began to close the distance. The Faceless Man turned the glowing eyespots of his mask towards Blake and then grabbed the hand of his nearly severed right forearm with his left hand and straightened it back into position.

That did not do much good at first but just before Blake got within striking distance the writhing tentacled form of the Faceless Man's hunger appeared. Blake stumbled and nearly tripped over his own feet, falling forward badly enough that the tip of his sword drooped enough to cut into the ground. This felt like it had taken far more out of him than he had gained from draining the small duplicate and Blake knew there was no question now that he did feel worse than he had in the barrow. The world was going in and out of focus around him as it seemed to approach and recede with each heartbeat.

With the life he had stolen from Blake the Faceless Man had managed to repair his forearm and using both hands he pulled his scythe from the soil and swung it in at the staggering Blake. Blake wobbled as he tried to bring his sword up from touching the ground and to get his shield in line. Suddenly Neeshka jumped into the way to take the blow on the flat of her own small shield. She 'oofed' in pain as the shock of her shield meeting the scythe shaft was transmitted into her forearm and forced it back. Then an instant later she hissed slightly as her arm was forced back far enough the tip of the scythe blade could reach to draw a shallow bloody line through the fine chainmail links over her shoulder blades and upper back.

As his beloved went sprawling from the power of the blow Blake could see through the haze of his fatigue that it looked as if her arm was broken or badly bruised and that she'd been stunned by the impact of the scythe shaft and of hitting the ground. With the moment she had given him to recover and the surge of strength from his rage Blake stopped wobbling and charged. The Faceless Man seemed surprised by his sudden speed and didn't manage to avoid or deflect this mad rush. With his weight behind it and how the Faceless Man had already been weakened Blake's sword stabbed deep into the Faceless Man's midriff. Blake set his feet and heaved to his left as he twisted his body and twisted the sword in the wound.

Thrown off balance the Faceless Man staggered one way as, despite his attempt to set himself, Blake staggered the other way in reaction. Blake managed to change the direction of his stagger from sideways away from the Faceless Man to back towards him. He was moving with as little grace as if he'd had an entire barrel of Harvest Mead and then his boots chained together, but this was enough to get him close enough to hack at the Faceless Man's upper left arm. The blade cut deep and the Faceless Man's left arm drooped with a barely visible outline linking upper arm and the rest of it.

The Faceless Man was looking bad as he staggered back to try to use his scythe one handed again but Blake could feel his rush of strength fading and the dizziness returning. The darkness around this area of light had been joined by dimness around the edges of Blake's vision and he was not sure he could win before he passed out. Then out of that dimness Neeshka appeared, her left arm hanging nearly as uselessly as the Faceless Man's and surprising him with her attack as much as she had Blake. Her shield pendulumed on her arm as she moved and, by her standards, almost lurched forward.

Of course a 'lurch' for Neeshka was catlike-grace for most other people and the wounded Faceless Man was far too slow to avoid it as she twisted and stabbed her rapier into the side of his neck. The hiss of pain she gave as this twist made her arm swing a little further gave Blake another slight burst of strength that lasted just long enough for him to slam his shield into the Faceless Man by almost falling on him. As Blake bounced off and the Faceless Man fell backwards Neeshka's rapier slid out of his neck and further widened the wound.

Blake and Neeshka both reversed their grips on their swords and began stabbing down at the prone Faceless Man before he could rise. As the outline of the Faceless Man dimmed under their attack Blake could also feel the hunger fading and felt a moment of empathy through the curse they shared. Blake realised how little the Faceless Man could understand the hunger and how much he was enslaved by it and how little he understood of what he had become. That realisation brought pity but did not slow the rise and fall of Blake's sword.

If Akachi's mind had been reduced to less than that of a dangerous beast, as even the most ravenous had some concern for warmth and shelter and mating, then that explained why he had been unable to resist the hunger. Blake knew it would have been impossible for him to resist if he'd not had Neeshka's love to support him and the ability to know the curse for what it was and thus how to deny its nature. None of this changed the fact that a dangerous thing was still dangerous whether it understood it or not, a mountain did not understand anything but a landslide would still crush you if you did not avoid or prevent it.

"E… enough," Blake panted after a few more minutes of stabbing. He rejected the temptation to stab his sword through the Faceless Man and instead stabbed it only into the bare soil to lean on it. "Enough," Blake repeated, "and… please… step back."

Neeshka nodded and began to move so Blake closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. For a few seconds nothing seemed to happen. Neeshka wondered what her harbour-boy was doing and then pillars began to form around him and the Faceless Man. She could see the strain on Blake's face creating these caused and this distracted her from realising at once that these pillars were almost identical to the ones in Okku's barrow that had trapped the hunger there for a century. As the pillars became completely solid the slight twitching of the Faceless Man stopped. Blake opened his eyes again and Neeshka looked at him as he looked down for a few moments more at the helpless figure.

To her surprise Blake chuckled as he turned to face her. "Akachi is lucky you are here, my sweet," Blake commented, pulling his sword from the ground and wearily dusting off the few clumps of soil that, with how unbleeding their foes had been, were all that marred its blade. "Or lucky that you and I met those months ago."

"Why?" asked Neeshka, as Blake gave his sword a very quick wipe anyway.

Blake sheathed his sword and, now he had that hand free again, removed the mask so she could see his smile. "Right now I can feel the choice, I can imprison him inside me as Myrkul thought was the only option. I can restore him as the Red Woman and The Boy expect, and as Kelemvor advised." Blake sighed and his smile dimmed. "Or I can gain immense power, but only by betraying our love by embracing this curse, just as I nearly did in my rage at Zoab."

"You don't need me to tell you what's right," said Neeshka, sheathing her sword and adding a moment later, in a teasing tone, "this time."

"Crush Akachi's remnants to my will so we can use that power to avenge all the insults and danger we have been placed in," Blake replied, deadpan. Neeshka raised one eyebrow towards a delicate horn and gave him an unamused look. Blake smiled slightly. "Sorry, I meant restore Akachi as the morally good thing to do… even if it might be safer leaving him unable to seek revenge."

"The second does sound a lot more like you," smiled Neeshka. "Helpfulness!"

Blake shrugged self-effacingly and turned back to the Faceless Man. It sounded like Neeshka was surer than he was that he'd have rejected power in favour of doing the right thing. He was uncertain what decision he'd have made if it had not been a choice between power and love. If The Founder had succeeded in parting him from the woman he loved there was a chance that her plots would have failed at this last moment. Without Neeshka's support this would have been harder to resist and if the last he'd seen of her was when they were separated by a collapsing corridor then he'd have good reason to not resist. This power could have been useful to search for her, and especially if that search would require travelling even more within the planes of the afterlife.

Holding the mask out before him a frown came to Blake's face as he concentrated. He found himself within his mind, what memories were parts of him and had shaped him, what he had felt and done and experienced to make him the person he was. Then by reverse he found what was not him, what had been imposed on him by this curse, what were memories and thoughts that were not his, and that he could remember but had not truly experienced. He drew those foreign memories out and crushed them together like dough or scraps of clay until they took shape enough to begin attracting the other scraps of Akachi to join them.

Blake could feel these memories being drawn out of him like milk teeth as the mask began to glow. The result of these was greater than simply adding them would suggest as the remnants built on each other and the mask dissolved and swirled away in a twist of light into the Faceless Man. Two forms shimmered into existence as the empty blackness within the outline of the Faceless Man's form was filled with the first hints of something more.

"You have pursued us, Faceless Man, and we have hidden," the Red Woman said, looking down at him. "In your hunger and pain you forgot what you were but we remembered, we always remembered."

"You are Akachi, my brother, who gave me my name…" added The Boy.

"You are Akachi, my beloved, who kindled love in a heart that held none," the Red Woman concluded. "And you are Akachi the Betrayer who turned against your God for that love and died in the Wall in my stead. Remember my love… and be whole again."

There was a swirl of energy as The Boy and the Red Woman dissolved like the mask to rejoin the rest of Akachi inside the form of the Faceless Man. His back arched up off the ground as they further filled him and the magic of the dream-pillars lost its power over him. These were copies of pillars created to contain an empty void of pure hunger and the closer the Faceless Man became to becoming Akachi again the further he was from remaining that. The form slumped back down and vanished in an upward snowfall of flakes of light. Blake was not sure but he had the impression that the mask on the Faceless Man's face had vanished first and into nothingness rather than joining the rest of him.

"Well?" Neeshka asked.

"I feel tired," replied Blake, touching his chest, "but not empty." Despite his confidence he couldn't help but sound surprised as he continued. "I think that worked."

Neeshka bounded over to him and gave him a very strong one-armed hug before grabbing the back of his bare head to draw his face down for a kiss. Blake returned the kiss and several moments passed with some very happy tail-squirming and Blake's arm twitching. He wanted to also return the hug but one arm had his shield on it and using the other would mean he risked touching her injured arm. It took a good long while before they decided they needed some breath and Neeshka let Blake pull his head back at least a little.

"I told you I had more to fight for," murmured Blake, looking lovingly down from the towering advantage of the extra inch or so he had in height. He nodded towards the portal that had appeared while he was distracted by either the end of the Faceless Man or the start of the kiss. "Hopefully that portal will let us wake up."

"Last one in gets tickled while they are still asleep then!" Neeshka threatened, releasing Blake and trotting towards the portal.

Blake did not feel any fear of the threat as his plate and chainmail would protect against even Neeshka's fingers. This was something he had learned in the past and rather regretted as her fingers were not something he wanted to be protected from. However he followed his sweetheart and entered the portal close enough behind her that had he wanted his face slapped hard enough to taste blood again he could have reached out to grab her tail as it streamed behind her. The world shifted around him and he felt the disorientation of the change of scene and that suddenly he was lying on his back rather than jogging along on his feet.

He sat up as he tried to shake off the feeling of having fainted since that was how most people went from standing up to lying down without remembering it. At the edges of his vision he could see the edges of his helmet and he could feel that weight on his head. That was a clue to being awake again since he had taken that off inside the Dreamscape. Blake looked around and saw Neeshka. She smiled to him from where she was sitting and moved her shield-arm about to show she could move it again, and then wiggled her fingers in a tickling motion to remind Blake of the threat.

Blake had been concerned about the injury to Neeshka's arm as he did remember Gann's warning that you could die in a Dreamscape thanks to the link between body and mind. Thankfully it seemed Neeshka's muscles had not spasmed against each other or her arm flailed in her sleep to break or bruise itself. Now he had looked at her Blake turned his attention to himself. He was still feeling as well as he had in the last moments in the Dreamscape but he was not surprised that was the only change since he passed out. His shield had the hole from the Disintegrate rather than the less neat one from the scythe, his cloak was partially burnt rather than torn, and he was back to wearing only one pauldron and only one gauntlet.

"It is a good thing you only dreamed that you dropped your bow," Blake smiled teasingly to Neeshka.

"What?" replied Neeshka, suddenly reminded of this and that she had left it in the darkness. She gave Blake a look and then hurriedly checked her bag as since that was the first Dreamscape she had been in she was not confident about the difference between it and reality. Finding her bow was securely in her possession she glowered slightly at Blake for not reminding her back in his soul and for worrying her now.

Blake chuckled slightly to himself. He might have got the chance to tell her before if she hadn't been so keen for the celebratory kiss and to race him to the portal, and he couldn't regret kissing her rather than telling her. Suddenly Blake's chuckles died as he glanced in the opposite direction from Neeshka. Either he had failed to notice the presence of the Lord of the Dead in his concern for his sweetheart or Kelemvor had arrived again in the last few moments. Gann and Okku did not seem to be reacting to an arrival so it was more likely the former. Blake hurriedly stood and gave a respectful, if perhaps belated, bow to the immense figure.

"The curse is finished. The Betrayer's suffering has come to an end," Kelemvor declared, his voice echoing with power without those echoes blurring his words. "Akachi's hunger was born of the emptiness left by all that was taken from him by the Wall, but you have restored his soul and his scattered essence so he hungers no more. Now he has gone to the fate that would have been his had Myrkul not intervened." For a moment the impassive sculpted mask seemed to looking across the City of Judgement at something only Kelemvor could see. "Not to lie within the Wall, but to find rest amongst the False souls of old or to serve my city alongside his former comrades."

"I am glad to have ended this suffering and the curse," replied Blake, "and to have saved all the future hosts and victims." He sighed. "I do wish though that this could have been less bloody and especially that my journey had not sparked this Crusade."

"None of my faithful can truly die within the bounds of my realm," Kelemvor said, addressing Blake's latter concern, "and as for those who served the Crusade… they knew what they risked. The blame for their deaths is not yours."

"That is some comfort," replied Blake, with a grateful bow of the head. He looked unsure for a moment and then decided honesty was best as the Judge of the Damned would be able to sense his mixed feelings even if he did not speak them. "But do not mistake me. Even if some way of enforcing the… as Halor put it… covenant between Gods and Mortals is needed I do regard the Wall of the Faithless as being unnecessarily cruel, so I cannot be untroubled by having slain those fighting against it."

"When first I ascended to Godhood I felt the same as them," Kelemvor admitted, his voice almost softening and losing some of the overtones of Godhood as he remembered the mortal he used to be. "No longer would I punish people thus, but the planes nearly paid the price for my mercy and I learned the folly of judging souls with the eyes of a Mortal rather than a God." His voice changed back towards what had become normal for him as memories of being mortal were replaced by memories of what he had learned as a Deity. "I maintain the Wall not through any sense of tradition or pleasure in its existence. It is because I know it is necessary and know that the suffering they sought to end is as nothing compared with what would result were the Wall to be brought down as they wished."

"My eyes are those of a mortal," smiled Blake ruefully, "so my conviction cannot be as deep as yours."

"Some justice, however cruel it seems," Kelemvor argued, showing his gratitude by trying to help Blake be convinced rather than doubt-stricken, "is necessary to prevent the greater evil. There sometimes cannot be any less harsh method that will also succeed. This is as true in the realms of the Gods as it is for mortals."

Blake sighed and nodded. "And sometimes justice cannot be done at all, but has this been done for Akachi and Myrkul?"

"Yes," Kelemvor replied with the certainty and the firmness of the God he was. "Both their tales have come to an end. Akachi will suffer no more and without his curse to keep fear of Myrkul alive that God will fade into the rest you tried to grant him. His spirit shall not reform to again haunt his own skeleton and without his will shackling them there the scribes in his vault in Shadow Mulsantir shall also know rest."

"What of The Founder?" asked Blake, feeling like an idiot as it hadn't occurred to him to offer those scribes the same release he had the High Priest and the other souls haunting the Furnace.

"She has also gone to the fate that should have been hers long ago," Kelemvor rumbled. "You were right that her soul could have passed to a surviving fragment and granted that her knowledge and much of her nature. However the three fragments you knew of, and knew were dead, were all she had created. Her spirit passed beyond that life but, rather than return her to the Wall from where she had been stolen, my mercy extended to granting her the oblivion that long since should have been hers."

"Then justice has been done for them all," nodded Blake, his pleasure at that dimming as a thought occurred. "Though perhaps would have been safer for me…" He glanced unconsciously at Neeshka and revealed where his concern actually lay. "Had it not. Had I spared The Founder or destroyed rather than restored Akachi who loved her."

"In smashing the Crusade you have earned many enemies, but Akachi will not be one of them," Kelemvor replied, trying to sound reassuring even though by attempting this he was also telling Blake he had other problems. "You will not be punished for being just, and my gratitude will always be yours for the good you have done here."

Blake considered for a moment whether to point out that he had not wanted to smash the Crusade. He was genuinely grateful that he would not have to fight and probably kill Akachi after the trouble they had been through to restore rather than destroy him. However that did not change that he had earned those other enemies only because Kelemvor had forced him to fight the Crusade before he could reclaim his soul to end the curse. This complaint seemed like it would take honesty too far for a mortal to risk when speaking with the Lord of the Dead though so Blake simply rooted in his pack with his still bare hand.

"I thank you for that, and would ask you for a boon."

"Ask," replied Kelemvor, his tone and the way he seemed to loom even more over Blake conveying eloquently that his gratitude was not unlimited, and should not be presumed on too far.

"When we found this ring," Blake said, holding up the double-ring they had found in The Founder's sanctum, "I could sense there were souls within. Thankfully that is something I can no longer sense but I think that due to the end of the curse rather than a change in the ring."

"Ah, a sad tale. Two mages of Shandaular feared death and losing each other enough to arrange that on their death their soul would be bound into a ring and to swear that this ring would be worn by the other forever. When they both died at the same time their souls were bound into their respective rings and then, as you see, those rings fused together and thus fulfilled their oath to never be parted."

"Myself I would rather face judgement and move on to my afterlife," Blake replied with a slight frown, "and hope that Neeshka could find happiness without a ring to keep her grief alive."

"Hope for something better harbour-boy," smiled Neeshka. "Hope I managed to find a cleric to get you back…" She stopped to glance at Kelemvor and give him a nervous smile. "Er, no offence to your city… but I think I'd prefer him to only visit if he had to come here again."

"Can these souls be released without suffering a worse fate than being trapped in a ring?" Blake asked Kelemvor, trying to distract his attention with the question from turning to Neeshka.

"Like those in Thay you released or traded to a worse fate than being trapped in soul housings?" rumbled Kelemvor, distant storm clouds seeming to gather in his voice as he displayed his Godlike knowledge. "Who even now are in the lower planes or in the Wall you tore your soul from?"

"Yes," Blake replied flatly, "like those."

"Like some of the souls you released these Mages were not destined for either fate," said Kelemvor, the storm clouds clearing as Blake showed the strength to not deny or protest the consequences of his actions. "Although I would not return them to life together I am willing to judge them and let them enjoy death together in the afterlife they have earned."

"Then I ask you to let some good come of this journey."

"Some good?" protested Okku, breaking his silence. "You ended the curse little-one!"

"And I am glad of it, my friend," Blake said, turning to look at the bear-god. "Glad that Rashemen will no longer be plagued by it and glad that your oath has been fulfilled and for the friendship that has grown out of us working towards this. But this has all been to correct an old mistake and restore things to how they should have been rather than to do some extra good."

Kelemvor's sculpted mask seemed to twitch very slightly but that was the only sign the God gave that he was releasing some small fraction of his power. A mortal wizard would have needed months of research and vast quantities of reagents and chanting and concentration. But Kelemvor needed merely to twitch and the ring cupped in Blake's palm glowed a brilliant radiating white and vanished. Blake looked at his hand, expecting, despite having felt no heat and no pain, to see a small circle burnt into the flesh of his palm, and then back to The Lord of the Dead.

"You have earned an honoured place in my realm," Kelemvor declared, "and when death brings you back to my gates you may accept those honours or walk a different path as you choose." Blake bowed his head again in further respect and gratitude. "But for now you may depart in peace, and perhaps in more peace than when you arrived." Blake looked puzzled and, reminded of the limits of mortal minds again, Kelemvor continued. "Your struggle has won you freedom from the curse in your soul and from the shard that had been in your chest. Granting you that second freedom was not why The Founder had it removed but despite her motivations it was a service to you as well as to her plans."

Blake nodded slowly. He was not sure he agreed but he was sure that he would not disagree openly with a God. And that he could not as Kelemvor had vanished again despite being as tall as some of the upper storey windows around him.