The Modron Mutiny

Chapter Twelve

The Final Act

While unconscious, Ailia Symmette half-remembered, half-dreamt when she had first met Black Scarf. Black Scarf, the man who seemed to have no real name. He was like her, and to some extent, like Slatecutter; he was changed. Perhaps this was why he had no name? Maybe his old name had died with his old form? Ailia only thought of this because he was the only person she had met from the Prime who tolerated her, other than Azra of course, but she met Black Scarf first.

Ailia had made a deal with a small order of githzerai, but she never stayed around them for very long. Her mannerisms were enough to irritate the monks, which was something she had anticipated, but hoped wouldn’t happen. Ailia had met a few others, though they were only passing acquaintances, or people she had impressed with an action that was never meant to do so. She had even attracted the unwanted attention of some githyanki after slaying one of the higher mind flayers.

Black Scarf, despite undoubtably viewing her as most primes did, at least attempted to show her politeness. Ailia had arrived in the Silent Sea on a sort of scouting mission. She was trying to see if demiplanes could be added to the modron march, at least demiplanes with some value. Ailia had arrived in the strange place on a floating bronze platform with four quadrone guards. She remembered the whale song his ship made in place of a horn, and remembered when the filthy dwarf Black Scarf worked with asked if she was two people. The dwarf gawked at her just like most primes did, not even bothering to close his mouth.

“I already addressed myself, Sir dwarf. I did not call myself “we” but the singular “I.” I am not a “we” or a “they” so I cannot be more than one person. I am…well…me…” Ailia had told the dwarf.

This didn’t make the dwarf angry, but didn’t stop his staring either. Black Scarf quickly intervened. At first Ailia thought he was some sort of mutant, or a strange humanoid corrupted by the sea, but his actions proved themselves.

“Now don’t be mean to her. We never see actual people all the way out here.” Black Scarf said to his companion, who nodded and left them alone.

Not only did this man not gawk at her, but he actually knew what she was. Black Scarf knew what her guards were, and correctly guessed that she did something in the gate town of Automata.

Black Scarf, this horrific-looking, uneven-toothed gentleman who smelled vaguely of ammonia and formaldehyde knew more about her from a glance than any of the others she had met. Not just that, but he treated her like a magistrate before he knew that was her title. It didn’t take long for Ailia to find out he was a Selunite, which meant that he could be useful. If such an unsightly, unorderly man worshiped a good god, and could guess so much from a glance, then he would become a valuable ally.

Black Scarf answered everything Ailia asked him about the Silent Sea. After this, when Ailia ran out of time, Black Scarf asked to meet again in the Silent Sea, so he could ask her some questions for research. Ailia would have preferred to go to Automata, but Black Scarf stressed that it would be impossible for him to complete all of the required paperwork for entry.

Ailia agreed, but also requested that he grant her a favor. If she ever needed information hidden, Black Scarf was to hide it in the Silent Sea. As the first soul to discover the demiplane, Black Scarf had some power over it. He agreed, and Ailia told him all he wanted to know about what she was, how she became this way, and what she did. Black Scarf learned how she had been born human with different colored eyes, how this nearly drove her insane, and what she did to correct it.

Ailia told him about how she conjured and bargained with an earth djinn, how it twisted her wish, and how the twist turned out better than she could have imagined. It really thought that making her like this was a disservice! The thing made her irreversibly perfect, and was shocked…shocked…when she thanked it!

Ailia had been born a noble, formerly called Alice Symonkov, and would have inherited her father’s lands and title. After her interaction with the dao, Ailia was hastily thrown out of her home; banished by her family upon discovering how their daughter had turned herself into a “monster”.

Her former family had tossed her into the sewers below the city, to live with the mongrelmen and other things that dwelt there. This nearly broke her, as staying clean was near impossible without magic. She adapted, made an ettin think she was a god, cordoned and dammed off parts of the sewers with subservient monsters, and she even managed to selectively breed sewer rats as food.

The enforcers she had enthralled did their duty, and by a borderline miracle, she convinced the monsters that cleaning the sewers would make their lives better. This worked…for a time…until the people above wondered why the sewers weren’t flowing as they usually did. When they tried to investigate, the meat-hungry monsters exploded in rage. Ailia couldn’t stop the monsters from getting their fill, and losing the control she had tried to cultivate for four years.

Ailia remembered telling Black Scarf about her old friend, the rusted automaton that she found down there. Recognizing her as a lawful being, he had tried to help her, train her to fight, and when the monsters slipped from her control, actually managed to contact an outer plane. Ailia was accepted into Automata with open arms, as the city she once called home fell to chaos.

Black Scarf knew what the automaton was, a kolyarut inevitable, and was impressed that she found one inside a sewer of all places. Black Scarf was even more impressed that Ailia managed to organize monsters to clean a sewer. He was worried about the city, and wondered what became of it, but Ailia couldn’t tell him its name. She had blotted it out of her mind when her old family had abandoned her. Black Scarf was troubled by this, and though he didn’t feel sorrow for Ailia’s family, he asked if she was worried about the city and its people. He asked if she knew how many people died before the monsters were put down.

Ailia had her emotions deadened since that event, and tried to blot it from her mind. Even in Automata, she tried to hide her emotions. It made things so much easier; kept her routines ordered, and helped her stay focused. Aila thought about what he had said, and felt, really felt, again. It was not pleasant. She confessed that she felt horrific now, but knew there was nothing that could have been done. She had tried to stop the monsters, and failed rather quickly. Ailia knew the kolyarut did perish, mainly due to him being unable to return to the lawful planes. He died so that she could go to Automata. Not only did innocent townspeople die, but a being she considered a friend.

It was an odd feeling; Black Scarf was one of the more visibly-repulsive primes she had met, but the man made her think. He made her remember that she was not a cog in a machine, and that this was not inherently a bad thing. After admitting to her guilt, she had a much easier time overcoming it. Ailia was planning on helping rule Automata forever, but forever would be a long time.

As if the gods answered her prayers, she met Azra, and their life had its rapid high and hard fall. The sorrow vanished once Azra returned, becoming one of the changed like her, and securing himself a position in Automata forever. Ailia had Black Scarf to thank for this, as no other prime would have helped her realize that she wasn’t meant to be alone. This is why she contacted him; this was why she told him of Azra’s fall.

Ailia never told Black Scarf about her son, about Arza, the reason Azra Holder was banished from Automata. Ailia didn’t plan on telling anyone what she had to do to make her child perfect. She grew Arza in a contraption made, and meticulously designed, to be a safer and less destructive alternative to carrying a child. The device worked, but despite its strangeness, this was not the unspeakable action.

Ailia was a mutant; functionally a creature called a caliban. Calibans were mutated humanoids, usually living on the demiplane of dread, that could spread their mutations to their offspring. Because of this, Ailia went back to the dao, and asked it to help her son stay perfect. She had no guarantee Arza would be like her, but despite their reputation, the dao had made her perfect. At the time, Ailia didn’t see how it could twist such a request. The thing agreed. As long as her son didn’t follow his own desires, instead only following the law, he would be perfect. He would become an inevitable.

The dao appeared to have honored its deal. Ailia watched Arza grow and he was indeed perfect. He exceeded all of her expectations, and suffered no mutations like she had feared. Despite this promise, Ailia had made a fatal mistake. The dao, beings Ailia thought were the more ordered of the djinn, beings that would actually be satisfied with helping her again, were aiming to ruin her. They possibly wanted revenge, possibly just acted on their eviler nature, but the dao worked with an archdevil to force something horrible to befall the Holders.

When Azra was exiled to a place in the prime called Exandria, there was another calamity coming to that world. The planes were being broken down near it, and Levistus had actually managed to escape from his icy prison. Automata had been shunted to the Prime, to Exandria. Once this happened, Levistus took control of all the modrons in Automata, and nearly made them all swarm to kill Azra.

He wanted Azra’s sword, he wanted Grovelthrash, and forced Azra to give him the sword when Azra helped end the calamity. Later, the fiend inside the sword was dying. Part of the chaos that was causing the second calamity had corrupted the sword. It needed to be replaced with something lawful in order for the sword not to fall to chaos. It needed an inevitable. It needed the most lawful being possible they had access to…it needed their son.

Azra did not, would not, give the blade his son. He took the place of the fiend inside the sword, and was changed into an inevitable. Azra and his allies ended the calamity, ensured that Arza’s soul was safe, and put Levistus back on ice.

Doing this caused Azra to ascend by absorbing the Betrayer weapons, and gave him the power to protect his family forever. That is, at least, what Ailia had thought. Somehow, this Jalakara had knew a way to stop Azra without having to kill him. He had succeeded, and now wanted more. He wanted her fealty, and Ailia wouldn’t even try to imagine what the rakshasa would do if he found out about her son.

Ailia only prayed that not telling Black Scarf of her child wouldn’t lead to ruin.

Ailia’s thoughts stirred as she heard an all too familiar, dwarven-accented voice.

“By the gods…my luck cannot possibly be this bad…”

Hein was gazing down at an unconscious Symmette. She was wearing rags, and defied logic by somehow looking even more emaciated and sickly. Hein knew he was wrong, but for some reason, seeing her alive, right here, filled him with both rage and regret.

Hein knelt down, starting to heal her, but remembering why this all started. Ailia Symmette was still insane. Even if she didn’t start this modron mutiny, she was not someone who should be on Faerun.

Instead of heal her, Hein grabbed her by the shoulders and shook. The woman’s body weighed practically nothing. Even someone with Hein’s sub-par strength could easily jostle her awake.

“Wake up! We need to find Azra! Can you hear me?” Hein half-shouted, which echoed in the stairwell.

Symmette lurched up, and leapt to her feet. Hein instinctively reached for his weapon, but stopped when Symmette looked at him with terror. Hein started to hold up his hands, but Symmette’s fear rapidly faded once she saw that he wasn’t going to attack her.

“…engineer…Slatecutter…?” Symmette said, sounding a little confused.

“It’s just Hein, you know this.” Hein flatly stated as his arms dropped to his sides.

“Eng…Hein…I…I am glad that you did not attempt to…” Symmette tried to say, before being interrupted by Hein.

“Where is Azra? Do you know? Are you in a position to help us?”

Symmette looked at him with two mirrored expressions of shock, then both brows furrowed.

“No, I am not. I have been held captive here, and just fell down a flight of stairs. I cannot fight in this state…but that does not matter! I have a mission of upmost importance to accomplish here!” Symmette tried to shout, though her voices sounded shot from screaming at the mirror.

Hein scowled, “Oh please…please don’t tell me that you’re doing the same thing Jalakara is. I just barely disabled that horrible machine, and now…”

“No! Of course not!” Symmette managed to scream, though her response came out broken.

Hein didn’t respond, but was starting to wonder if taking Symmette to the top of the tower was a wise idea. Obviously, she was not in a state to be harmful…but he couldn’t help but feel afraid of what she might do. Even if she didn’t start the modron invasion, Hein didn’t want her near the tower’s controls.

Rexi and Qresh were slowly making their way down the stairs. Rexi was walking down each step carefully, either worried they would accidentally step on Symmette, or that they would find her dead. Qresh was following her while keeping the same pace. Upon hearing the shouting, both descended as fast as they could. The two didn’t have to go far.

Hein and Symmette were on the next flight down, and were glaring at each other.

“Hey devil boy! Ettin…er…. Azra’s lady didn’t do it!” Qresh growled.

“Hein don’t attack her! She really is innocent! We need her to get Azra back!” Rexi shouted, and ran down to get closer to the two.

Hein looked over to Rexi, and despite what they all knew, still looked angry.

“Rexi, I know she didn’t start all this, but she does not belong here. I know I was wrong now, I know about the fiend, but you two still don’t understand how crazy she is. She may not be commanding the modrons, but she cannot get near that tower’s controls.” Hein said flatly.

“Hein, if whatever replaced her has control of Azra, she’s the only one who can get through to him! Come on, you know this! Who else thinks like her!” Rexi shouted.

“I never told you two about how she made a certain machine in Automata, but not the one here. It was a box, a box that was designed to grow a child.” Hein said rather calmly.

Rexi didn’t know what to say. Symmette’s blood ran cold, and her expressions matched. Qresh saw the looks of despair she now sported, and turned to Hein.

“Calm down…she’s been through ‘nough can’t ya see?” Qresh told Hein.

“Qresh,” Hein responded, “Do you think that she would let a child gestate normally? I don’t think Symmette would let a child stay asymmetric. What do you think that box did?” Hein asked.

Symmette answered Hein’s question for him.

“Symmetry be damned! I would rather become that fiend’s dinner than harm a child, any child! I have paid dearly, more dearly than any of you can imagine! Fiends, djinn…any outsider cannot be trusted when it comes to matters like that!” Ailia screamed, nearly choking on her last sentence.

All three looked at her, now being fully sure that, whatever madness she held, was indeed harmless. Hein closed his eyes, and let out a long sigh. Rexi started to pat Symmette’s shoulder, but stopped herself knowing how the woman would act

Qresh though, he understood. Qresh’s eyes met Symmette’s, and somehow, she could tell that he knew. Qresh, just nodded once, and Symmette returned the nod, but didn’t say anything aloud. Perhaps she had said too much. Ailia hoped that Jalakara wouldn’t be able to read their minds on a whim.

Hein looked over to Symmette with a borderline hurt expression. He had allowed his judgement to become clouded again.

“Jumping to conclusions nearly caused me to fall right into Jalakara’s trap. Symmette…I’m sorry. I’m going to try and pretend our past doesn’t exist, and hopefully we can stop the monster who’s managed to mess up both of our lives.” Hein said quietly.

“Thank you, Hein. I doubt that it matters now, but when I hired you, I had not really understood how poorly primes do in Automata. Now I understand that my rules can be too much for your people to tolerate. I should have considered this more before I asked you to help me.” Symmette responded, sounding a little upbeat for a change.

Hein didn’t know what to say, but seeing the woman’s mood change told him that he had said something right.

Ailia dusted herself off, and attempted to clear both throats before addressing the party.

“We need not fight the rakshasa; all we need to do is break any hold it has on Azra. I do not think that he has been slain, Azra would be far too useful for the fiend to keep. Azra being turned against us is what concerns me. I likely will be the only thing that can break whatever hold it has over him.” Symmette explained, her typical emotionless tone coming back.

“Hopefully just seeing you will change his mind, but if that was the case, why did that rakshasa keep you alive?” Rexi asked before stopping herself.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad he did, it just doesn’t make sense. If you’re alive right now, and that’s all we need to turn Azra against him, why let us find you?” Rexi finished.

Symmette turned to Rexi, and her faces looked almost blank.

“Jalakara wants…no…needs admiration. He wants willing servants, that was one of the main reasons I was locked away. I assume that he is using this tower for something terrible, and us awaking Azra will not immediately stop him. He needed my form for something to do with the tower. I do not know what exactly.”

“To the Hells with Jalakara!” Hein shouted, “He’s an arrogant shitsack who is so obsessed with himself, that he forgets important details! He’ll probably…” Hein trailed off as his voice lost most of its volume.

“Probably use the tower to improve himself?” Rexi half-said, half-asked.

A look of fear crept onto Hein’s face.

“Devils normally get promoted with arcane rituals. I’ve never heard of rakshasa doing the same, but if one wanted to gain power, wearing the skin of a lawful creature like Ailia might help him do it. Not only that, maybe that sword of Holder’s has something to do with it.” Hein muttered.

“That has to be it! He needed you, and you specifically! Damn, I wish that teleportation orb worked. The man in the black scarf might have known about this!” Hein shouted, almost in a manic state.

Ailia’s heads darted to look at Hein, “Black Scarf is here!” She gasped.

“Yes and no. Jalakara nearly killed him in the lower levels. I healed him, and had to leave him down there. I couldn’t carry him, but it was probably for the best…” Hein responded.

As Hein spoke, Qresh began to lumber out of the room. He was undoubtedly planning to walk all the way down to the lower levels to retrieve Black Scarf.

Hein noticed this, and held up a hand to stop him.

“…because there were no modrons down there! They’re preoccupied with what’s left of my soldiers. Besides, Jalakara wanted to keep him alive to torture him or something. I think Jalakara blames him for getting found out.”

Hein glanced over at Symmette.

“Is his name just Black Scarf? Why? That’s sort of silly, is it not?” Hein asked.

“Don’t be makin’ fun o’him now if he nearly died! Qresh shouted, though it sounded more out of concern than anger.

“Don’t worry, I know he’s stable and doesn’t need immediate medical help. If we can’t stop Jalakara, then his health won’t matter. Also, his knowledge won’t be of much use if Jalakara already finished what he was starting…” Hein replied.

The party stood in silence for about a second, before Qresh interrupted.

“We gotta get the Hells up there…mhm…let’s go!” The tortle yelled, his voice’s echo practically shaking the stairwell.

Hein reached into his belt, and took out his last fly scroll.

“I can cast this on myself and Qresh, but Qresh will have to carry Rexi and…” Hein started to say.

Symmette held up both hands, signaling him to stop.

“The top of the tower is accessible through the staircase. You may want to save that scroll, along with your magic.” Symmette said.

Hein nodded, and the party ran for the stairs. All but Symmette, who lagged a little behind. Hein glanced over his shoulder, and noticed how much trouble she had walking.

“Hang on, let me heal you.” Hein told Symmette, who stopped a few feet away from him.

“I do not think that it will matter. I have no weapons, and no way to aid us meaningfully. You should save your magic for the upcoming fight, for the ones who are not yet injured.” She replied.

Hein took out his hammer, whispered something, then held it out with an outstretched arm. Symmette didn’t shrink away, so Hein tapped her with the hammer. After the magic washed over her, Symmette seemed to look a little livelier.

“You may be right, but we won’t know for sure until we get to the top.” Hein said as he continued up the stairs.

Rexi followed Hein, but Qresh didn’t. He turned to look at Symmette, and tried to speak to her in a hushed voice.

“If ya want, I can tote ya up them there stairs…ain’t nobody gonna see. You ain’t gotta feel bad…” Qresh mutter-growled.

Symmette tried to smile, though the fear was evident on both faces.

“Oh no…no thank you sir tortle…I…I do not need to…nor will I ever require you to carry or touch me…” She tried to say nicely, though the fear of being touched by the dirty swamp-dweller caused her voices to tremble.

The walk to the tower’s top was remarkably uneventful. Symmette was walking normally now, though the woman’s footsteps had an almost annoying rhythm to them. Her feet made the same noise with each step, similar to a metronome. The room where Symmette was kept must have been closer to the top that the group realized, as they reached the end of the stairs rather quickly.

Hein was nervous to say the least. He really didn’t know how the tower could make Jalakara stronger if its only purpose was to correct reality. If reality was not broken, how could it aid him? Hein kept mulling over the scenario in his head, but had no answers. Hein knew that Rexi had guessed correctly. He only hoped that they could reach Azra before Jalakara finished whatever he was planning.

Hein stopped once he had cleared the stairs. Hein heard the others walk out, and Hein walked closer to the center to get a better look. The top of the tower appeared rather unremarkable, being mostly bare bronze, with a throne in the very center. Hein was surprised the area was not in chaos, and was strangely not surrounded by modrons. Even though Hein had seen none, he thought that it was some sort of illusion. Hein saw that Jalakara, who was still wearing Symmette’s likeness, was sitting in the throne. Azra was there in one piece, but was standing by the throne silently.

Azra was standing so still, it almost looked like he had become a regular statue. Azra did not have his sword, which was instead stabbed into the floor at Jalakara’s feet. As Hein and the others advanced, Jalakara’s heads both snapped in Hein’s direction, which caused them all to stop walking.

Hein had not looked back at the others until now, and saw how awestruck Symmette was. She was staring at Azra, who didn’t seem to be lucid enough to recognize her.

“Azra!” Symmette screamed.

The statue’s only response was to snarl, lean forward, open its mouth, and vomit a bolt of lightning.

Symmette leapt out of the blast effortlessly. Hein managed to narrowly avoid the blast as well, but fell onto his face. Hein heard the clank of Rexi’s armor, and a grunt from Qresh. Hein looked back to see Rexi, also on her stomach but mostly unharmed. Qresh was leaning over, but had a few singe marks on his shell. Other than that, he appeared to not be injured.

After the blast, Jalakara’s eyes started to glow. Hein reflexively took out his saw and activated the blade; the others readied to fight along with him. Jalakara spoke, now using his original, fiendish voice.

“At last! Witness what is to come Slatecutter!” The fiend roared.

The power of its voices, split from two sources, nearly caused Hein to stagger.

Jalakara gripped Grovelthrash with both hands, pulled it out of the floor, and held it up pointed at the sky.

“I am Jalakara the Beloved, wielder of the Arms of the Betrayers! I alone deserve their divinity!” The rakshasa boomed as the tower started to tremble.

As Jalakara rose, the throne sank into the floor, leaving the fiend standing.

The tower rumbled, everything started to blur, and Hein could tell that reality itself was changing. Hein wanted to run, to interrupt the fiend, but for reasons he couldn’t explain, Hein felt like his feet were glued to the floor. Rexi seemed to be in a similar situation. Symmette was either too grief stricken, or too afraid to advance. Qresh however, was not. The tortle charged forward, nearly gliding with the speed he moved, and was rapidly advancing on Jalakara.

Azra intercepted Qresh in a flash, crashing into the tortle, and grabbing Qresh’s hands. The two appeared to be locked in place, and were unable to move the other.

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“Let me go Azra! We got yer missus here! You done gone an’ scared her to death!” Qresh shouted. The statue stayed silent.

As Qresh and Azra were stuck in place, a massive wave of energy came from where Jalakara stood. This was enough to knock everyone down except Azra. Hein fought to keep his eyes open, and was likely the only person that attempted this, as he didn’t even blink when he was thrown down. Hein couldn’t take his eyes off what he was witnessing. Reality wasn’t being corrected…it was being changed.

Hein saw Jalakara’s stolen armor and swords explode off his body in a burst of light. The space was warped which caused the image to be blurred, but Hein could tell that Jalakara was no longer bearing Symmette’s form. The light coalesced into a much taller image than Hein remembered. The panther face and fur returned, along with Jalakara’s over-extravagant purple clothes. As the light started to fade, Hein noticed Jalakara’s face looked wrong. The fiend’s visage was dividing into two separate faces…separate heads. As the heads finished forming, Jalakara slowly lowered Grovelthrash, which had changed into a golden, overly-decorated scimitar. Jalakara pointed the jewel-encrusted blade at Azra, who straightened his posture.

As Jalakara did this, Hein noticed something very distinct. When he had spoken to the throne, Azra’s eyes flickered with light. Jalakara holding the blade did something to Azra, like he could sense it. Jalakara’s loud laugh broke Hein’s concentration.

Jalakara laughed, though it was not a laugh of mania or triumph, but seemed to be one of pure joy.

“I am remade into perfection! The one who wields the combined Arms of the Betrayers! I have the power of the world enders, to use on this sphere as I see fit! Now I am remade as the god I should have been all along!”

Jalakara did not speak in tandem like Symmette, and his voices were mismatched. The panther-faced monster looked at itself, and both heads smiled.

“I can relate to you now! I can see why you think that you are so superior…though a broken, abominated mortal could never hope to hold power like this!” Jalakara roared at Symmette.

Jalakara held up his free hand, and suddenly, two bronze blades grew from Azra’s wrists. The blades were curved, and looked like copies of Grovelthrash. The blades stopped growing at the hilt, and dropped mid-air. Azra grabbed them, and now wielded both blades as if ready to attack.

Jalakara walked closer to Hein and the others. They had all just got off the ground, but Jalakara seemed to be focused on Hein.

“You know what this means, do you not?” Jalakara asked Hein. Hein stayed silent.

“Surely you know more than the shark? Surely you know how strong I am now? I offer you nothing but peace, Hein of House Slatecutter.” Jalakara growled with two smiles.

Hein spat before speaking, “I’ve seen the cost of your peace! I think I speak for everyone here when I say we want nothing of it! If you truly wanted that, you wouldn’t have taken Holder!”

Hein pointed at Azra, who’s expression had not changed since intercepting Qresh.

“He is Grovelthrash, in order to ascend, I needed him.” Jalakara replied, almost condescendingly.

“Oh, you needed him.” Hein said, almost as if it were an insult.

Hein flexed his claw. When he did this, Rexi stepped up to his side, before glancing back at Symmette. The strange woman had not taken either gaze off of Azra, who wasn’t even looking at her. It was hard to tell if she was in shock, or despair.

“Azra, we’re all here. Don’t listen to this monster. We have Ailia right in front of you, the woman you’ve wanted to see since…” Rexi tried to say.

Jalakara glanced at Azra, who ran in a blur at Symmette. He stood over her, looking down at the small woman with an expressionless face.

“I am sorry gnome, but Azra is part of me now. He no longer has his own will. If you serve me, if you all serve me, then he can have his…whatever creature this woman is…though I doubt that he will have much use for her now.” Jalakara replied.

When the last wisp of breath left both sets of lips, Azra’s swords shot out of his grip, into the bronze floor. They stabbed into the metal as if it were earth. Azra’s arms lunged at Symmette, each one grabbing a throat, and he lifted his former love into the air. Symmette started gagging, though her breaths were terribly short.

Rexi ran up to Azra, sword at the ready. She pointed the blade up, getting close to his throat.

“Let her go Azra.” Rexi warned.

Azra didn’t even look down at her. Symmette tried to scream out through her choking cries, but could only whimper. Rexi understood that Symmette didn’t want Azra harmed, but didn’t point her sword away. Jalakara flexed his hand, and Azra delivered a swift kick to Rexi’s chest. The blow threw her a few feet away from Azra, a little behind Hein. Jalakara laughed.

“Serve me. Let us end this mindless violence! I have already won! I am a god now, Hein! Do you not understand? I have divine power! Now I rank with the other ascended of this world! Bane, Myrkul, only I am so much more forgiving! You have everything to gain! Imagine what I can do with your mind! Your intellect makes that abomination from Automata look like a malformed child! Let us rule this world! You can help me, along with these sad mortals! I never even got the chance to properly grant you slaves…please!” Jalakara screamed, half-begging, half-roaring.

A loud slam interrupted them all, even Jalakara. Qresh had charged, and slammed both fists into Azra’s back. The force of the blow caused him to drop Symmette, but didn’t appear to do anything else. Based off the crashing noise it made against the stone, Hein guessed that the blow could have outright killed a person.

Qresh held both fists out, with one arm slightly above the other. Azra stood in place, for a moment, his head twitching towards Jalakara. The fiend nodded, and Azra responded. He retrieved both swords from the ground, too fast for anyone to really see, and countered Qresh by severing one of his fists. The tortle let out a loud grunt, then dropped to one knee. Hein was half-stunned, thinking Qresh was done for a moment. Qresh quickly retrieved his severed hand off the floor, then kicked backwards. He slid on his back, directly to Rexi, who was rising from the ground. Rexi wiped the blood from her broken nose, then readied her blade.

Jalakara briefly smiled, almost as if it were a reflex. Each smile quickly faded from both faces before he addressed the party. He spoke with a tone of disappointment.

“So, you mean to use violence? That is very unwise. What should I do to prove my power? Would you like to fight your fallen ally? The dwarf who was cut down by the abominations? I can bring him here…if you want?” Jalakara said, still somehow sounding calm.

Symmette had tears in her eyes, and was looking up at Azra. She was still on the ground, on her knees, trying to speak to him, but couldn’t say any coherent words. Rexi caused her sword to glow with fire, and cauterized Qresh’s wrist. Other than the loud sizzle, Qresh didn’t seem to acknowledge the burning. He was glaring at Jalakara.

Hein snarled, took out his fly scroll, detached his claw, and casted the spell on it. The mechanical hand shot into the sky in a flash.

“If you’re really a god, why don’t you go back to the Hells to rot!” Hein shouted.

Jalakara watched the hand fly off with one head, while the other looked at Hein and laughed. He now sounded amused.

“I will allow it to leave…to get aid away from the tower. I am sure the minotaurs will be thrilled to answer the call of a flying mechanical hand! Slatecutter, you make me so sad! I am offering you demi-godhood! I am offering you more than you could ever need or want! Do you really want to reject it for…for what?” Jalakara asked, seemingly serious in his inquiry.

Hein looked around, saw Symmette crying, Azra in a state of apathy, Qresh and Rexi ready to die to defend Faerun. It was like the Hells, like before he leapt through that portal that closed on and severed his hand. Hein was so certain the blast ended Jalakara. Hein knew it would kill every slave there, and tried to blot it from his mind. Even if the slaves would rather die than leave, Hein had tried to forget. He had to escape, he had too much work to finish. At the time that was all he wanted. Now he knew where all that work had led.

“You want what you can never understand Jalakara.” Hein responded, before snapping his attention to Qresh and Rexi.

“Grab Holder!” Hein shouted at the two.

Hein glanced up at the sky, before running back, and trying to think of a plan. Azra had to be in there somewhere. Based off what he saw, Azra was the key to this. Hein didn’t think Jalakara had actually gained godhood, but he was using Azra to somehow mimic it.

Those implications alone gave Hein hope they could end this.

Qresh looked over at Rexi, who nodded, and they both charged at Azra. Symmette screamed, but her cries were drowned out by the sound of loud chanting. Jalakara was casting a spell. Hein was also readying his own spell.

As Rexi and Qresh got close, Azra didn’t move. Rexi point blank shot Azra with a stream of frost magic, as Qresh lunged at him from the side. Azra spun in place, fighting similarly to Symmette. Despite being slowed by the frost ray, Azra was still too fast for the two; they could not get any strikes in.

Azra focused on Qresh, and swung his blades at the tortle in a flurry of blurred bronze that made the strikes nearly invisible. Qresh protected his face with his injured arm, which was cut several times, but not too deep. Rexi tried to swing for the back of Azra’s knees, but only managed to hit once. The strike chipped a piece of stone from the construct’s leg, but didn’t slow him down. Rexi’s second attack was intercepted by a spinning blade, before a following attack cut her on the check.

Rexi staggered back, caught herself, then outstretched her hand. She started to also chant, but was interrupted by a loud, final word. Jalakara had casted fear on them all. Hein felt it wash over him, saw unspeakable things appear in thin air, and watched Rexi and Symmette start to run. Hein dropped his own sword, turned to run, but before he did, released his spell on Symmette as she ran past him. Despite his terror, Hein knew he could maintain the spell as he escaped.

Jalakara started to laugh. He watched Hein and the gnome bolt away near the edge. Symmette was running the opposite direction, possibly now scared of Azra. Only the tortle did not look afraid. Of course it was the tortle…this made Jalakara’s laugh fade.

“Your mind and reflexes are strong, but not divine. Perish creature!” Jalakara shouted at Qresh as he clenched his backwards hand.

A globe of darkness enveloped Qresh, who’s first instinct was to run out. Before he could make his way out of the sphere, Jalakara shot out a breath attack from each head. One was a ray of fire, the other one acid.

Symmette ran to where Jalakara had thrown down her blades. It was the spell Hein had cast on her; she wasn’t afraid at all, and knew that Jalakara couldn’t tell. This may be her only time to strike. She retrieved both, then leapt at the fiend. Symmette only thought of one thing as she jumped to attack the monster. Despite being like her, and having enhanced awareness, Jalakara did not know she was there.

Rakshasas are odd fiends. Instead of living in the lower planes, they attach themselves to the material world. Fiends typically have a weakness to silver weapons or radiant attacks, but rakshasas specifically suffer the most from being stabbed by a lawful good creature. Even if Ailia wasn’t strictly “good”, her intentions were only to save her son. Perhaps the gods decided that, if this rakshasa was going to break the rules of reality in its favor, they could let the rules break against it as well.

Jalakara shrieked as the blades were plunged through his lower ribs. This caused the fear to fade from the others, but it did not stop the psychic backlash the Betrayer Weapons gave him. Symmette’s eyes and mouths glowed with horrible light as she twitched in place, and quickly fell behind the fiend.

Rexi stopped running just shy of the edge of the tower. She summoned her sword back to her hand, which appeared in an arcane wink, and bolted back towards Qresh. He was still standing, but looked horribly injured. Rexi knew that wouldn’t stop him, and channeled all the magic she had. She summoned what looked like more acid, all of it seemingly pouring out of Qresh.

Azra saw the tortle emerge from the darkness, burned by both acid and fire, and nearly collapse. Before Azra could advance, he noticed acid flood out of the tortle. Acid…from the tortle…it was filthy. Jalakara wasn’t as important for some reason. The acid lurched at him, and he tried to back away from it. Azra was too slow, and the grimy, foul-smelling fluid licked his chest. Despite having his armor enhanced by Jalakara, the acid was able to easily eat through it. Azra could feel it burning his skin.

Hein saw Rexi hold a spell, and watched Azra run from what looked like nothing. Hein ran at Qresh, grabbing his dropped saw along the way, then healed Qresh with a touch of his hammer. He didn’t have time to assess the damage. Hein had gathered, in the few seconds he wasn’t afraid anymore, that Symmette had stalled Jalakara, but had been hit by a retaliatory attack.

“We have to make Azra lucid when Jalakara is hurt, and get her near him then. You have to keep Ailia safe.” Hein hoarsely whispered to the tortle.

Qresh just nodded, then started to run at the fallen Symmette.

Jalakara felt fury flood his veins. Pain. He had hardly felt pain like that when Slatecutter tried to assassinate him with that feeble bomb. “Who? Who did this?” The fiend wondered as he spun around. He saw her, the freak, lying at his feet with bloodied blades. Jalakara smiled viciously. As he lifted his hand, the tortle, running faster than a being of that size shout be able to, swept up Symmette before Jalakara could blink either set of eyes. The fiend screamed.

“Burn forever insect!” Jalakara boomed, as he put all the magic he could into both restraining and striking down Qresh. A bolt of lightning in the shape of a spear shot from Azra’s chest, hitting Qresh in the shell, but not taking him down. Qresh found himself covered in spider webs. The webs did hold him down, but he tore free without much effort. Qresh noticed that Symmette, while still looking dazed, did not look as harmed as she was before. Strangely, she also didn’t look afraid or in despair either.

As Azra fled from the phantasmal acid, his eyes flickered with light when the lightning came out of him. Though the acid had burned him, his fear of it started to subside. The acid vanished into thin air as he realized that Qresh had to die. The big tortle was much too troublesome to Azra’s new master.

Azra bolted at the tortle, but was intercepted by the gnome. He had practically tripped over her, though she didn’t lose her footing. Azra stumbled, fell with a roll, then leapt to his feet.

Hein ran up to Rexi and Azra, and started to cast a spell. Azra knocked the hammer from Hein’s hand with one wrist flick, and parried Rexi’s retaliatory attack with the other hand. Rexi stepped back, glanced at Hein, and started casting. Hein did the same.

Azra intercepted Rexi first with a kick to the chin, stopping her spell before it started, and then swung his blades towards Hein. Azra’s blades hit, cutting into Hein’s armor as the tiefling’s spell finished. Though he had to drop the heroism he had placed on Symmette, it was for the best. Hein now had a wavering form Azra had trouble seeing. Despite this, Azra still pressed the attack. He swung in near inhuman patterns, his arm seemingly dislocating, and wrist spinning without stopping. Hein was able to grab his hammer off the ground, but it took everything he had just to dodge, and even then, scales were still being shaved off his armor.

Rexi turned to Jalakara, who was watching Qresh with a snarl. The rakshasa stepped away from where the throne was, and held up his hand again. Rexi ran at Jalakara, and shot a ray of frost at the monster. The ray hit the rakshasa in the chest, but didn’t leave any sort of mark. Jalakara didn’t even appear to notice the attack.

Hein saw this, and shouted while trying to dodge and parry Azra’s strikes.

“Magic won’t work on him!”

Rexi nodded, readied to strike again, but instead found a snake lunging at her face. Rexi severed it mid-air with her sword, and turned to see several more surrounding her and Qresh.

Jalakara had his free hand clenched into a fist, which caused snakes to appear from the ground, and start biting at Qresh and Rexi. Qresh was trying to keep Symmette safe, who was being held near his body. Rexi saw Symmette’s matchstick arms wiggle from Qresh, saw them move, and caused magical missiles to blast away the snakes that appeared around Qresh.

Rexi’s plate armor kept her protected from the snake bites, but she felt several fangs clank off the metal. Rexi’s blade was faster than the snakes, and she cut them down with relative ease.

Once the snakes were dead, Rexi noticed that Azra was preoccupied with Hein. Rexi again ran from behind Azra, then purposefully slid down. She hit Azra in the legs, and was able to throw off his balance. Azra remembered this maneuver, and stabbed both swords down at Rexi. Rexi threw up a shield spell, but was still pierced near the side by one of the blades. Though it wasn’t lethal, Rexi felt herself bleeding. She let out a grunt before rolling to her feet.

Rexi glanced at Jalakara, and could tell he was no longer attacking Qresh, who had run to the stairs with Symmette. Jalakara had a half-smirk, half-snarl on each face, but wasn’t taking any actions. Rexi turned back to Hein and Azra.

Rexi and Hein both saw Azra staring at both of them. Without attacking, Azra then vanished from sight.

There was a half second of silence, before Azra emerged again, only with one blade swinging down onto Hein. His blow hit solidly, and cut through Hein’s armor. Hein shouted, dropped his saw, lost the blur spell, and fell to one knee.

Azra slowly walked up to Hein, but was distracted as Rexi screamed and ran to attack him. He parried each of Rexi’s strikes, with one counter causing her to cast shield again. This did not stop Azra’s final swing, which actually carved a piece of the gnome’s breastplate off.

In the time Azra took to do this, Hein drew his stowed construct killer blade. When Azra knocked Rexi away, and swung his sword at him, Hein intercepted Azra’s swing with the blade. Hein acted too quickly, which was something, in the split-second Azra had time to think, to be near impossible. Hein’s blade met Azra’s forearm, and it was severed cleanly.

As Azra was briefly stunned by this, Hein tapped Rexi with his hammer. She felt lighter.

“You can fly now, keep Jalakara and Azra distracted from the air.” Hein hastily ordered.

Rexi took off, and few above the top of the tower. Jalakara took his eyes from the fight with Azra, and watched Rexi.

“Come down from there! Kill your friends. Kill the tortle!” Jalakara’s voice boomed.

Rexi felt a wave of compulsion wash over her. She tried to fight it, but it was like her arms were losing their feeling. Rexi felt like she was watching herself from the inside. She tightened the grip on her sword, but before the domination overtook her, Rexi felt the last bit of herself, who she really was inside.

Rexi had met people that became part of her family, people she would never forget. Rexi would rather rot in the Hells than cut them down for this monster. It would not have her mind. Rexi tried not to think. She flew a little higher, and dove at Qresh. As she did, both of their eyes locked. Qresh looked extremely injured, but despite whatever pain he was in, he understood. Rexi nodded, and Qresh nodded back.

Rexi shot at Qresh, seemingly plunging her sword into him. At least she angled it that way. Jalakara saw the gnome dive at the tortle, and laughed with glee.

“Yes! Now subdue the tiefling…and put yourself back together!” Jalakara shouted at Rexi and Azra.

Hein had tried to strike Azra again, but none of his attacks came close. Even with one arm, Azra was able to parry all of Hein’s swings. Azra stopped moving as they fought, then leapt inhumanly high. The statue jumped out of Hein’s reach, landed near his severed arm with a crash, and put the arm back onto the stump. The arm reattached in an instant.

Hein didn’t stay to watch. He charged at Jalakara, and shouted something in dwarven. The fiend turned to look at Hein, appearing surprised to say the least, but as Jalakara did, he lost sight of Rexi. She wasn’t near the tortle anymore, and the tortle was not lying dead on the floor.

Jalakara felt something bite into the nape of one of his necks, and twitched to the left. He reached his free hand to that spot, and actually felt blood. Rexi flew by him, far out of his reach. Jalakara roared, swung Grovelthrash, and caused the air to blur in an arc coming from the sword. Rexi dodged out of the incoming attack, not knowing what it was, but feeling that it could certainly cut her. As his attention was on Rexi, Hein ran in to attack. He slashed at the fiend’s legs, but only got in two hits before Hein felt ethereal claws slash at him from all directions. It was like what Black Scarf did, they appeared from nowhere, and not only cut him, but threw Hein back.

Rexi saw this, and dove in to swing at Jalakara again, but was intercepted by a similar attack. The slashes came from too many sides to parry, and Rexi was thrown to the floor.

As Rexi hit the ground, Hein felt stone arms restrain him. Azra tightened his literal stone grip, which caused Hein to drop his weapon. Azra continued to squeeze Hein’s arms, Hein screamed, and felt the bones inside his arms pop.

“I told you this was unwise…but let us start over! What you have seen has not even been a fraction of my power now! I should ask though…what of the blows you managed to land? What of those, hmm?” Jalakara hissed.

Jalakara spun around, showing how he was mostly uninjured. The wounds Symmette had left still left marks, though they were no longer bloody.

Hein didn’t respond, but his eyes darted to the sky. Jalakara thought, for a second, to ask what he was looking at, but he shortly had his answer.

It was like a meteor. The hand, which must have been flying up for the fight, only to plummet back down with similar speed, had finally hit Jalakara. The force of the blow knocked him onto the ground, shook the tower, and totally severed his free arm. There was an indention in his body where the arm was, and he was both burning and bleeding badly.

Jalakara didn’t say anything, but Hein saw him hold up Grovelthrash, and point it at Qresh. Qresh was walking up to Azra, who had released Hein and was preparing to attack. Azra retrieved his swords flash, and was ready to intercept the tortle. The pain must have overtaken Jalakara, as his sword dropped, now pointed at the ground. The fiend closed its eyes, gritted its teeth, and somehow willed the fire burning on its wound away. Azra stopped walking, and his eyes looked dim.

Seeing Azra freeze gave Hein hope; however, it did not last. Before Qresh got too close, Hein remembered something. The memory was a vague flash, when they fought modrons outside the tower, but it was important. Hein remembered seeing Azra reflect damage using Grovelthrash. If Jalakara had control of that sword…

Before Hein could finish his thought, before he could scream or even think about screaming, Qresh exploded. Though his body was not completely torn apart, there was a blast of blood, and Symmette was thrown from his grasp. What was left of the tortle had no chest, and shortly followed its innards to the floor. Qresh was lying on his stomach completely dead.

Symmette didn’t seem to mind the blood. The world was now silent to her. From the fiend’s laughing, Rexi’s screaming, and Hein’s cursing, she only cared about Azra. He was staring, wide-eyed, and confused. The fiend’s influence must have faded.

Symmette ran up to Azra, who regarded her with confusion. In the chaos, she only said one thing.

“Save the world…save him…save Arza!”

Azra’s will faded back to Jalakara’s. Rage filled his mind. Azra held the blades up, ready to sever the heads of his wife. But what she said. He couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“Save…Arza…Arza…”

Hein looked over to the two, and saw tears somehow come out of Azra’s eyes. Instead of water (or wet sand) they looked like liquid metal bronze. The tears then started to spread, and begin to eat away the stone on Azra’s face.

Jalakara had healed himself in short order. Even if Hein’s construct was magical, it would not kill him in this state. He felt his arm regrow, and looked over at Azra. Jalakara didn’t understand why the freak butchering her husband’s name meant anything.

Jalakara looked down at the adventurers with a smile, and slipped out the orb. With a loud roar, Jalakara summoned all the remaining modrons to the top of the tower. Though they were not a true army anymore, there was enough to surround the edge, and more than enough for the Fighting Five in this state.

“I think that Hein will have to take the monster’s place in that cell. Dispatch all but the statue and tiefling!”

The modrons did nothing.

“Do as I say machines!” Jalakara roared.

Rexi shrieked for Hein, who ran to her and Qresh. Hein readied a healing spell, but in Qresh’s state, he didn’t know if revivify would work. Not just that, but Jalakara would likely tear them apart again. Hein had trouble holding his hammer; Azra must have broken his arms. Could he even cast the spell?

Before Hein tried, his attention was turned back to the screaming Jalakara.

“Obey me!” Jalakara shouted at the modrons.

“We cannot.” They all said in tandem.

The annoyance and rage coming from Jalakara could practically be tasted.

“Why? Have you all gone even more insane? I am a god!” Jalakara boomed.

“Because…lord Holder has entered the battlefield.” The modrons chimed.

Jalakara said nothing for a second, and only blinked in confusion. He could only mutter one word.

“…what?”

A blurring streak, followed by a metallic crash caused everyone on the tower to flinch. The impact threw Jalakara from the top of the tower, but he was intercepted by the same force before he could fall. This second impact caused Jalakara to be thrown to the center, a few feet from where the throne had sat. Jalakara looked up to see his old nemesis. Rexi and Hein looked up to see something they never would have imagined.

The metal man was as tall as Jalakara, near seven and a half or eight feet tall, and was flying with jets of steam coming from a raised square on his back. Due to all of the mechanical parts, it was difficult for Hein to focus on what he was seeing. The mechanical man was terribly complex, with possibly hundreds of gears and pistons composing his body, all visible just under his armor. His armor was similar to half plate, but mirrored itself perfectly on each side. He was all bronze, but had eyes glowing with white light. The robotic man had eyelids, lips, even metal teeth, but everything was mechanical. Though they all knew this to be Azra, it seemed like something more.

Azra’s arms seemed to duplicate, until he had six of them in total. Each arm sported a short blade from the top of the arm above the fist, and the blades started to glow with heat.

“I will not let you escape like last time! There will be no chase through Stygia! The Styx cannot save you now Jalakara!” Azra shouted.

It was still very much Azra’s voice, though a little distorted by a mechanical grinding.

Jalakara laughed, then held up Grovelthrash.

“Return to your rightful place! No…crush the gnome…and carve apart the monstrosity!” Jalakara hissed as he pointed the sword at Ailia.

Ailia, however, did not look afraid in the slightest. She turned, away from Jalakara, to a shocked Hein and tearful Rexi, and started to speak in a very calm and collected voice.

“The battle is over now. If Hein cannot revive your ally, then I will take him to Automata to be properly resurrected.”

Rage was evident on both of Jalakara’s faces. He leapt from the spot he stood, landed in front of Symmette, and swung his sword down. Before he got a chance, the blade Jalakara held was sliced into thin pieces of equal size. Azra was standing right beside him, all of his arms returning to view from their impossibly fast swings.

Jalakara tripped backwards, only narrowly avoiding falling to the floor.

“No! How?” The fiend gasped.

Jalakara tried to steady himself. He knew that he had already shown too much fear of the inevitable. With each step, Jalakara fought to either run, or use the orb and teleport away. Azra strode up to him, and caused all of his arm blades to retract.

“When I took the place of the fiend inside Grovelthrash, the sword became part of me. You may have made me forget who I was, and have the tower allow you to wield part of me while I was under your spell, but no more. You are attempting to command a freed being; not one trapped inside a weapon like the other Arms of the Betrayers were. Now that I am awake, you cannot turn me against my wife or allies.” Azra answered.

Jalakara gripped the orb with one hand in his robe. Azra tilted his head.

“Use it. Run away. There is nowhere in this universe or outside it that I cannot find you!”

Jalakara scowled with both faces, then with a roar, threw the orb at Azra. The black globe flew just over his head, off into the sea. Azra nearly smiled.

“You had control over the Pillar of Law. It did what you wanted; you are indeed a much stronger fiend. Unfortunately, the pillar cannot make you a god. If you favor your chances, you can attempt to control the tower again. Those chances are abysmal, but it would be entertaining for me to watch.” Azra said coldly.

Jalakara hissed, leapt back, swung his claw, and summoned a shadow of his hand. Despite Azra’s size and metal body, he dodged the strike as if he knew exactly where Jalakara would swing. Jalakara tried this several more times, and each time, Azra easily avoided the strike. As he did, he got closer to Jalakara.

Once he was around the same distance he started at, Azra let a claw hit him. The strike did nothing, though Jalakara noticed a very small flake of bronze chip away from his arm.

Jalakara roared, both pairs of eyes glowed, and several things happened. Jalakara either used mirror image, or duplicated himself into four copies. A toxic gas cloud formed around Azra and enveloped him. The same snakes that had attacked Rexi and Qresh appeared just behind the gas, waiting to pounce. A large, spine-covered, green devil waited with the snakes. One of the copies of Jalakara threw a lightning-spear, while the other three shot out a breath of energy from each head save for one. Fire, poison, acid, cold, and lightning all fired at Azra.

From the cloud, bright rays of red light came from each of Azra’s six hands. The light rays caused the gas to briefly blow onto the snakes, killing them all before dispersing. The rays met each breath weapon, save for one ray, which disintegrated the summoned devil. Azra’s beams were whittling away the blasts that came from Jalakara’s roaring mouths.

Azra roared back at the fiend; the sound of a thousand gears grinding on one another, which caused the rays to burn with more intensity. Each one met and destroyed the illusionary duplicates of Jalakara. The ray that struck the real Jalakara threw him back, and burned a terrible wound near his left neck. Jalakara’s left head had trouble breathing.

Azra straightened his posture, and addressed the fiend.

“You should have an incredible amount of power, but I am seeing none of it! Are you not Jalakara, the fiend that bested me? Despite all of your stolen power, you cannot strike me once? You are even more pathetic than the twisted creature you started out as!” Azra shouted.

Jalakara let out a terrible roar. He stood straight, lifted his hands, claws curled up as if casting a spell, and flew over Azra and the rest. Jalakara summoned several different claws above him, each one curved and aimed at his query, but not at Azra. Jalakara’s heads focused away from the inevitable, and instead on the mortals around him. Azra’s eyes narrowed.

In a horrible flash of red, Jalakara’s chest was flayed open by a flurry of thin, red, rays of light. Jalakara shrieked, his ethereal claws vanished, and he plummeted from the air. Shortly after he hit the ground, Jalakara attempted to heal himself again. The wounds would not close.

Rexi started to try and drag Qresh away from the fighting, and even though she managed to move his body a few feet, Azra seemed to know what she was doing. Azra strode up to the rakshasa, lifted Jalakara up with half his arms, and pulled the fiend away from the tower’s center where he landed. Jalakara clawed at Azra, who’s free arms responded by extending their blades, carving off the monster’s backwards hand, then his other arm, then both his legs. Azra’s strikes were not symmetrical.

Symmette, Rexi, and Hein watched Azra somehow tear open space. They saw the Hells, saw a multitude of devilish forms, all waiting for what would follow. Hein noticed a hag with a large basket, holding it open while grinning much wider than its skull should have allowed.

Jalakara kept trying to scream spell words, but before he ended each one, Azra would stab him in a random place on his body. They could all hear Jalakara’s heart pound, the large exposed organ beating harder with every second.

“I will drag you to the place where your death will be permanent! If Levistus failed to stop me, what did you think your chances were rakshasa?” Azra roared, his body now starting to glow with heat.

Azra threw Jalakara down onto the floor of the tower, which had somehow bled into the Hells. Jalakara landed on his back. He was staring in horror at Azra, while slapping his remaining arm against the ground, trying to crawl away with the handless forelimb as Azra stood over him with all of his blades now out. Azra plunged all six of his blades into the rakshasa’s chest cavity, and with surgical precision, cut the heart out of its resting place.

Jalakara stayed lucid, but his screaming stopped. Azra tossed the heart onto the ground, which the hag grabbed up with glee. Jalakara’s mouths tried to speak, but Azra retracted his blades, held out all his fingers, and caused those same beams of light to return. All of them were aimed at the fiend’s heads, and both heads were equally destroyed. The burn marks left turned the spots they had struck into cinder-smeared black circles.

Hein let out a sigh of relief. It was finally over…and finished by Azra Holder no less! Hein’s past self would have never believed this. Azra stepped back, and the portal to the Hells faded. Despite it leaving, the two burn marks stayed.

Symmette ran up to Azra, the much shorter woman mainly grabbing his leg in a hug, while trying to fight back sobs. Azra knelt down, which caused his wife to release her grip, and allowed them to look at each other face to face. Azra and smiled warmly at her.

“It is over. We will go home, but we have to correct what happened here.” Azra said.

It was as if Ailia knew what Azra meant. She took a step back, and Azra walked to the center of the tower. A throne emerged, only it was large enough to fit him. Azra sat down, then looked at Hein.

“Cast the spell to bring back Qresh.” Azra said rather flatly.

“I-I don’t think it will be enough.” Hein answered, still a little shocked after what he had seen.

“It will work now. Cast it.” Azra replied, his voice now sounding louder as space started to blur.

Hein pulled out a small pouch of diamond dust, took out his hammer, and tried to revive Qresh. His injured arms made swinging the hammer difficult, but when his hammer touched the tortle, space around him shifted. Qresh was made whole, something the spell did not do, and gasped heavily.

“…gah! I’ll…I’ll kill that sumbitch…oh…well I’ll be damned…ain’t ya gone an’ made yourself purty for your girl…mhmm…” Qresh growled happily as he saw Azra’s real form.

Qresh stood back to his feet and dusted himself off. The second he did, Rexi screamed, and tackled Qresh in a sobbing hug. Qresh patted her on the back, and smiled as best as his tortle face would allow.

“Y’all done did it Rexi! Y’all done saved Faerun, put me back together, an’ got ettin girl her man back!”

“W-we did it! We g-got ettin girl back a-an saved Faerun!” Rexi tearfully responded, now starting to smile again.

“Please do not call me that.” Symmette replied.

Though her voices sounded emotionally sterile, she couldn’t help but smile.