The Mint Dam
The dam is an impressive structure that almost looks out of place when compared to the relatively backwater town of Stonebarrow. It's existed for generations and is currently under management through a joint effort of the Akwavi and Kadie clans (notably the Wingnuts). It spans a good sixty feet and is composed of earth and timber. The top is lined with three equally spaced waterwheels. One of the wheels powers the various Wingnut workshops that reside near the base of the dam. Another wheel powers the various mills that produce paper and other such items requiring milling, such as flour. The third wheel is for general use and powers many various places in the nearby town that require mechanical power. A menagerie of gearing, drive axles, and catwalks also line the top of the dam, interconnecting the wheels and providing service access to them.

Flying through a horrific storm is not fun. Axel probably hasn't felt this wet ever before, not even when bathing. It's cold, chilling to the very bones. He finds himself landing in the middle of the Kettenrad compound and the dam is barely visible through the sheets of rain.

Even despite his supernatural resistance to harsh temperature, Axel shivers. He hasn't enough feathers to withstand this sort of storm, and were he not possessed of a sort of magic he may very well have frozen to death before even getting this far. Still, he is kept focused by his goal: find and save Natasha. It's a fragment of a concept Axel's spirit latches on to with an iron grip and Axel, being just an unwitting mortal man, can't resist the urge. He trudges onward to what he thinks is the dam.

All the way, Axel saw nothing of Natasha. She may be already here, or he may be here before her. It's hard to say. The ground is getting softer and slicker as Axel approaches the dam. Up on the walkway, he can just make out what looks like a robed figure, possibly Natasha. But from here, he couldn't be certain.

The mysterious ways of witches and magicians baffle Axel, and so he can't help but think she must be faster than him. A surprising amount of ordinary people seem faster than he is – they often seem to jump from place to place when he isn't focusing on the external world. Soaked and cold, he peers through the rain at the figure. It could be Natasha. It could be the necromancer. It could be her, so he continues forward.

And up the walkway Axel goes. The rain pounds down. The figure ahead is leaning heavily on the railing of the walkway, looking tired and out of breath.

Using his wings like umbrellas, Axel trudges forward towards the figure while trying to hide from the cold. When he thinks he's close enough he yells, "Natasha?"

"It's so nice of you to join me, boy," comes a rasping voice and the figure suddenly stands up and turns to face Axel. Beady red rat eyes peer intently at Axel; the eyes framed by stringy remains of long, white hair. He slams down the butt of his staff he was hiding in his shadow a moment ago, the carved bone chimes making a jingling sound. "I so rarely get visitors. Well, living ones, anyway. If you can even call yourself alive."

Briefly Axel considers if he can call himself alive. The jury is still out on that, but lately he finds that the answer doesn't really matter. "You're not Natasha," he says as he considers his status as a potentially undead creature. It makes him sound blank, even dumb. After his consideration finishes he adds, "You're him. You," lifting a yellowed hand and pointing directly at the rat man. This time he sounds focused, angry, at odds with his previous comment as if he couldn't decide which mental gear to be in.

The Skreek simply smiles; old, yellowed teeth glinting. "Valricross, Master of Life and Death," he says, even bowing slightly. "I welcome my new slave with open arms," he adds, spreading his arms wide and holding up his staff. From Axel's perspective the figure suddenly changes, dark tendrils of energy that feels almost hungry curl up and partially encompass the Skreek. He starts laughing a rasping, guttural, laugh … and the darkness comes for Axel.

Faced with the necromancer, Axel isn't sure what to do with him. The old man's very presence sends shivers down Axel's spine and his gut whispers danger – but these feelings he has felt from others, such as Natasha, and all the witches. Sure he's pointed the finger and said, "you" in a very accusatory tone … but what now? The man is alive, not a stain on life like his messenger, and he can't muster the same rage. Attacking seems confusing, even wrong.

All the internal conflicts over harming a living being are dispelled when the necromancer demonstrates his power. The stain on life – to Axel it's like a slap in the face, or, perhaps, a mockery of his own nature – manifests itself again, and it comes for him! Screeching in rage and fear, Axel's aura turns the water that slicks him to steam before he suddenly ignites, destroying yet another pair of clothes, throwing himself forward to attack like a wild animal.

And Axel feels like he slams into a stone wall when he hits the dark energy. It crackles, it sizzles, it tries and fails to encompass the now brightly burning creature standing before the Necromancer. It appears both stand at an impasse. "Good, good," the necromancer cackles, "Show me your power! Weaken yourself and become mine." And yet, the necromancer seems to have to take a step back to steady himself and hold against the sudden onslaught.

Rain sizzles as Axel stands dazedly before the necromancer. His recoil off the barrier put foot-shaped burn marks in the dam's surface as well as rattled both his body and his mind. Blind fury was about all he had to answer this problem, spurred as it was by the pure insult the necromancer represents, and beyond that Axel doesn't know what to do.

Axel searches his fractured mind for help, and finds little. He remembers people with sticks in a courtyard, his prior fight with the messenger, and a few scared faces in the murky recesses of his collective memory. Only one thing is certain: this situation is at odds with him, and he fears now the other is far more familiar with it than he. Rage urges him forward, fear urges him back, and together he goes nowhere.

Unfortunately, it appears the Necromancer's experience is outdoing the rage Axel feels. Axel now finds himself being pushed back slowly. A sickening grin curls across the Necromancer's face. "Good, good," he hisses gleefully.

Instinctively Axel tries to dig his toes in to the dam's surface. Being he doesn't have talons, this only serves to make his foot cramp – and that's not the only thing that hurts. Trying to maintain his inferno against a repelling force is, metaphysically, like a human being trying to breath rapidly over a long period or hold a heavy weight. It's exhausting, especially when resisted, and he's having difficulty keeping it up. He sinks on his feet, and without any better idea tries to lunge at the necromancer again.

Suddenly, the force Axel was facing vanishes! And then the necromancer merely steps aside and sweeps low with his staff. The carved bone cracks hard and painfully against Axel's shins. And down the bird creature goes, slamming face first into the wooden planks. "All emotion, no logic," the Necromancer cackles. The butt of his staff is thrust hard into the back of Axel's head a moment later.

Axel stumbles when the shield goes down and, with a agonized, "aahhrrk," sound, hits the floor after the nasty knee-capping he receives. He feebly tries to get up only to have his head shoved in to the ground a moment later. His fire winks instantly, and he lays there barely moving, groaning from his wounds.

"Now, there's a good slave," Valicross says darkly. He starts muttering something, and half a minute later, Axel feels like his head is in a vice.

The pain increases … and after a minute suddenly starts to ease up. Axel finds himself … liking this old man. Surely an old man wouldn't be out to hurt anyone that wasn't bad, right? "Now, why don't you kneel before me," Valicross hisses. Such a nice old man.

Hurting all over, from his own intense magical manifestations as well as the sound beating he received for his troubles, having his head squeezed is like throwing oil on fire. Axel's wings flutter uselessly as he makes several pathetic, and distinctly avian, noises, squirming and clutching his head uselessly – and then the pain is gone.

Dazedly Axel pulls himself up to his knees. Kneel? Certainly, he can do that. It's a small thing and the man seems a lot nicer than before. Axel wonders if he hadn't been wrong about him after all. He looks up at the old man expectantly, much as he had looked at Parsley Chalk when she came to lead him around.

"It's hard, isn't it? You're so confused, aren't you?" Valicross asks, reaching down to pet Axel's head as if he was a small child. "It's so much easier if you let someone think for you, isn't it?"

Axel thinks that it must be, and can see the necromancer's point. Somewhere deep inside he knows that someone has always thought for him, only the someone was less focused than this man, less incarnate. Somewhere else, however, he's not so sure about the point, but lately he's relied on the owner of the first feeling to guide him, so it all makes sense in a convoluted fashion. He continues to stare with a rapt attention, letting his head be petted.

"Soon I expect we'll have more company," the Necromancer says, voice rasping as he continues to pet Axel's head. He glances off into the gloom adding, "They will want to harm me. Only evil people want to harm the elderly, right? You won't let evil people harm me, will you? You will kill them all, save for the Khatta, won't you?"

That all sounds very well and good right now. Protect this nice, fragile, pleasant old man. Axel isn't too sure about the killing part, he distinctly remembers how much killing was at odds with him moments before, but maybe there are alternatives. He asks, "Do they have to die? I don't want to kill anyone. I don't like it." He waits for the necromancer to bestow his fatherly wisdom.

"Ah. Well, killing would be best. But, if you can just occupy them, it will be satisfactory. I only want the Khatta," Valicross says, then smiles darkly. "And … she draws near. I feel her."

The bird-man nods slowly to that. Distraction he can do, and that's not at odds with his inclinations. He rises to his feet and moves to step past the necromancer when he pauses to ask, "May I use that," he points at the staff, "to protect you, Valricross?" It wasn't useful before, but that memory of men with sticks fighting seems relevant now. Now he may have a stick.

"Ah, no, child. I'm old, and have problems walking," Valicross rasps and waves his hand dismissively. He steps aside and lets Axel simply walk by. "Come little cat, the game of Khatta and Skreek draws to a close," he mutters to himself.

Axel says his apology for even asking, then steps to stand about three feet in front of the man where he watches Natasha approach with concern. His deep red eyes are eerie in the heavy storm, glimmering with his own internal magic.

As Axel stands there, a vaguely familiar face comes into focus in the rain; Natasha. She smiles sadly at him and motions for him to go by her. "I know you will not harm me, so please pass from this place and be safe," she says, looking sad.

The bird-man doesn't move. On the contrary he looks suspicious and he extends a wing in what seems to be a symbolic blocking of Natasha from reaching the necromancer. "He's a nice man," Axel insists, sounding apologetic.

"Let her by, child," Valicross says. "I've been expecting her."

Axel drops his wing and steps near the edge of the dam. He has to flutter to keep from slipping.

"Tasha Al Nadia," Valciross says, voice dripping with malevolence, "It's been a long time. How nice to see you again." The Khatta steps past Axel, her expression stony and fixed. "Not long enough," she says quietly.

Perhaps sensing he won't be needed immediately, Axel hunches down and perches on the edge of the dam as he watches the two converse.

"Oh, come now, Tasha. Is that any way to greet an old friend?" Valicross says, grinning, looking for all the worlds as if he's won.

"Friend? You were never a friend. And quit calling me Tasha. Tasha," Natasha says, frowning, and gets interrupted. " … is dead, you want to say?" the Necromancer comments drolly. "How dramatic, how very much like a tragic play. You 'kill' your old self to hide from the horrors of your own past. You can never hide from your own crimes, Tasha."

Crimes? Axel never knew Natasha – or is it, like he, Tasha and Natasha? – committed crimes. This does not bode well for her, but it does lend the necromancer's story about how awful the others are some minor validity.

"Witch hunter," Valicross says and spits. "How many witches have you destroyed, Tasha? How many fell to the college crusade against all 'unlicensed' users of magic?" Natasha … looks as if she's been stabbed with a blade of ice.

Axel tilts his head, eyeing Natasha with as much of one eye as he can manage without straining his neck. Natasha, after all, has been supporting witches lately. It puzzles Axel, and it concerns him. Somehow he thinks it has to do with him as well but he can't quite make the connection in his current confused state.

"I … I cannot deny my actions in the past," Natasha admits, her head hanging down, her expression faltering. "I destroyed many. I caused much damage to these lands in my ignorance. Would I be able to undo it, I would. But, all I can do is make amends."

"How very noble of you, Tasha," Valicross says, smirking. "But, the only real atonement left for you … is death."

"I don't like death," Axel mentions, sounding uncomfortable.

"But, one thing I do not regret … was fighting you," Natasha says, her jaw clenching, eyes narrowing. "You are a parasite. You took the lives of all those people in Schadel and used them to feed your army and a lust for power. You used them to try and become a lich, just as you tried to use me."

Axel thinks he's heard that somewhere before. "Is that true, Valicross?," he asks timidly.

Valicross completely ignores Axel. "Bah, they were worms. Nothing," he rasps and waves his hand. "They existed to be used, as does all life … to me."

The bird-man frowns, though if it's because he's being ignored, contemplating worms, or doesn't like what he hears isn't readily apparent. He turns his head to peer out in to the rain.

"You are not worthy of life," Natasha growls and raises her hand. A bolt of electric blue arcs from her hand, slamming square into the chest of Valicross. A moment passes, and the Necromancer starts to laugh darkly. "An energy dispell, Tasha? And a weak one at that. I'm surprised. I expected more from you." He raises his staff and brings it down hard against the side of her face. She whips to the side and slams into the railing, then staggers. Blood starts to flow from her nose.

The rapid combat has Axel up on his feet and facing the two again. He doesn't manage to catch the first part, though he obviously can hear it from his reaction, and he's up in time to see Natasha struck and staggering. Instinctively he steps forward and reaches for her face.

The moment Axel touches her face, he can hear her voice in his mind … and his mind suddenly come free as if from a dream. "Go from here, please. If you stay, you will die. There is one option left, I must strip him of his power, and it will strip me too. If you are within 300 feet, you will die. Afterward, he will be vulnerable … you could take him then… " The Khatta then looks up at Axel and smiles weakly to him.

Axel's blinks when he touches the woman's face. He blinks several more times, in fact, looking rather stunned as he mind and spirit are jerked around – again. The breaking of the necromancer's link immediately disrupts his concentration on his own powers, and it leaves him confused besides. He steps away from the woman and looks between the two people.

"Leave us, slave," the Necromancer growls and waves to Axel. "I want to savor this woman's life … alone."

Two orders of "go away," are enough to give Axel an idea of what to do. Suddenly terrified of too many things to count Axel takes another step backwards, looks between the two people as if at any moment they might leap out and maul him, then turns and leaps off the dam as he spreads his wings.

Natasha, still gripping the railing weakly, laughs softly. The Necromancer, Valicross, smirks, asking, "What is so funny? You've lost. Again." Natasha stakes a step backwards and stands firm. She shrugs and the tattered ropes she wears falls away from her body. Underneath she wears white robes, shimmering in the rain. Runes trail along the edges of them, all glowing a beautiful blue. "Three days is a long time for a mage like Tasha Al Nadia to prepare a ward, Valicross," she says softly and strongly. "You wanted her. You wanted her power. So be it. Feel my power." Her last sentence she almost roars. With effortless grace she moves, speaking in a gentle, melodic tone. The air around her ripples. The eyes of the Necromancer grow wide in sudden horror. And then, there's a flash, bright enough to be seen for miles. And then the boom comes as all the air around the two suddenly blows outward, the rain bending and warping in rainbow of light and sound. To Axel, he sees a void of nothingness rip open below him. As if all energy was suddenly torn from the air. It takes several minutes for both Axel's and Amelias eyes to clear. And where the walkway once was … it has been sheered away. The necromancer lays on the remains, a mere hundred yards from Amelia.

Natasha, however … is nowhere to be seen.

Blinking to clear her eyes, Amy runs towards the abbreviated walkway, a growl coming up from deep in her chest.

Necromancers, confusion, and now a rift cut in to the world itself! The normally removed bird-man is in a panic now, too much has happened to him and the world for anything less. He frantically tries to find something to mentally, and possibly physically, cling to in the storm and spies Amelia! Skirting where the void had been as if it could devour him still, Axel tries to land near the Kadie.

The necromancer rises from the rubble. His hair blows wildly in the air, eyes beady red eyes fix on Amelia. And he grins. "Even at her strongest, she was no match for me," he says, grinning with malice. He raises his staff and looks as if he's going to call down all the powers of darkness to remove the other two from his path … and nothing happens. His eyes grow wide as the reality of his situation suddenly hits him. He has no power. His controls must be gone. He's alone … and he's vulnerable.

Amelia lets out a battle scream as she leaps at the necromancer, holding her weapon over her head and aiming the iron blade right at the sorcerer's heart.

Landing behind the charging Amelia, Axel watches the Kadie advance. He hangs his head and looks down, unwilling to watch the old man die and, perhaps, unable to look at the crater where Natasha had been.

The necromancer doesn't even have time to react. The blade sinks deeply into his chest. He lets out a pained gurgling sound and his body convulses violently. "T… this i… isn't p … possible," he says, gagging on the blood that starts to flow from his mouth. "I … I am a God!" He glares at Amelia, his mouth frothing with blood and bile. The life in the hateful creature's eyes fades away to dull nothingness and his body goes limp.

Amy pants as she stands on the dead man's chest, then yanks her blade free. Knowing that the body has to be prepared for the Sealing Box, she goes about the grim business of removing its hands and feet to drain out the blood. "Axel?" she calls. "Are you there?"

Axel shudders in the rain as the old man makes his death wail. When questioned he doesn't respond immediately, but eventually the bird-man answers with, "I'm here," and can be heard stepping forward in the rain. When the Kadie gets a look at him without the veil of heavy rain he definitely naked again, burnt, and bruised in a number of places.

"Good grief, what happened to you?" the Kadie asks, then waves off the question. "Doesn't matter, the otters will be here to take care of you soon enough. Where is Natasha?"

The man doesn't look up. He doesn't answer, either, instead pointing a yellowed hand directly at the center of the crater.

Amelia turns and squints through the haze, as if really noticing the crater for the first time. "The Wingnuts are going to be furious when they see this," she mutters, then searches for the Khatta…

As the woman searches the bird-man walks over, and when he reaches the edge of the shorn area he sits down to stare directly at where he remembered Natasha to be.

No sign of the Khatta anywhere near the dam. Given the walkway has been pretty much obliterated, she could have ended up anywhere.

"Check the river!" Amy calls to Axel. "I don't know what she did here, but if this bastard wasn't disintegrated then she shouldn't have been either!"

The storm begins to break up and the rain stops. The clouds overheard part, and shafts of light arc through.

Axel's head jerks up. He staggers to his feet to peer off the end of the dam where Natasha had been leaning – then he jumps off.

Axel's search turns up nothing initially … but after a fashion, he spots Olivia and Djivan making their way towards the dam. And they all three spot it at the same time. A beam of light from the clouds illuminating a spot along the shoreline of the river. Laying within the light is a glinting white robe. Within that robe, Olivia can just make out Natasha.

After Axel takes off, Amelia sits on her haunches, holding onto her weapon across her knees. "Now… just need to wait for Morgan and Bravil and the Box," she says, feeling exhausted from all the stress and running around.

Olivia tugs on Djivan's hand and points to what she's seeing. "There," she says tiredly. "I think that's where she is. Shall we go and have a closer look?"

Immediately upon spotting Natasha, Axel wings his way to her location. When he comes into view of the two approaching from the town they can see he looks wet, naked, and bruised. He lands  gracelessly, staggering and falls to his knees ten feet from the white-dressed gypsy.

Djivan simply nods and heads over towards that spot. As they approach, it's readily obvious she isn't moving. Even once they're within a few feet, it doesn't look like she's breathing. Djivan releases Olivia's hand and drops to his knees beside Natasha. Gently, he rolls her over. The body moves limply. And at that moment, Djivan's own expression falls as reality sinks in.

Hearing Natasha's voice in her mind, bidding her goodbye, was bad enough – but seeing her lifeless body is like a blow to Olivia's chest. After taking a moment to collect herself, she puts a gentle hand on Djivan's shoulder. "I am so sorry," is all she can say. "She was my friend, too."

After catching his breath – and by the heavy way he's heaving he seems to need it – Axel staggers to his feet long enough to collapse to his knees beside Natasha. Without a word to anyone he reaches forward and lays both of his hands on her chest.

As tired and sad as she is, Olivia eyes the bird man with concern. She goes over to stand by him now, offering her own body as a support to lean against, should he need it. "What are you trying to do?" she asks.

"Was, Miss Weaver?" comes a weak voice and Djivan's head jerks upward. "Do not mourn for those who have not yet passed beyond this world. It seems that the meddling of a certain bird was enough, just enough, to have weakened the link. I felt him die. I felt myself be freed," the voice of Natasha adds, and her hand comes up and lays gently onto the back of Axel's. "You have done more than enough, friend. Do not stress yourself further for my sake."

"Hey, there he is!" "Where?" "Down at the river!" Coming from the direction of the dam, two otters waddle towards the group. The odd gate is the result of them being severely overburdened, their arms full of chitin weapons, tattered uniforms and old boots.

An expression of absolute shock passes over Olivia's face. Suddenly, she drops to her knees also and places trembling fingers against Natasha's face. It's warm. She nearly shouts for joy!

Axel's jaw drops when Natasha speaks. He seems to want to say something, but it comes out as unintelligibls squawks. It sounds happy. He looks relieved and, maybe it's just the rain draining from his hair, but he sits back as streaks of water run down his face.

"You know," the Skeek says in a shaking voice, "after all that we've been through recently – you might at least be able to call me Olivia now – not 'Miss Weaver!'"

Nene and Bebe stop a short distance away, and set down their loot to watch. "Hey, he's got no clothes on," Bebe points out to Nene, gesturing towards Axel in case her sister managed to overlook the fact.

Natasha laughs quietly, then winces. "Ow, don't make me laugh dear, it hurts right now," she chastises with a light smile upon a tired face. "I only want one thing, if one of you could manage it? Could someone get me to a bed? I … I need to rest."

As if it were an irresistible command Axel begins to try and pick up Natasha, wobbles, and has to let her down again carefully. He shrugs his wings weakly – he just can't manage it right now.

"We can take them to the Gnarly Tree," Bebe suggests. "Yeah," Nene pipes in. "They have beds and… and something otters aren't supposed to see! This is a great excuse."

Olivia smiles hugely and looks over at Djivan. "I think this troublemaker over here could manage that," she says, stepping back to let the Skreek take charge of that task. Then, without any warning, she flings herself at Axel and envelops him in a hug! (This also has the added benefit of holding him upright.) "Thank you so much!" she whispers to him.

Back at the dam, Amy sits on the necromancer's corpse and waits, watching the sky clear up. "The 'Nuts will start to come out now," she mutters. "And what is keeping Morgan? I swear, if I ever need help to move, I'm asking him last… "

Well, now Axel is crying – in the happy sort of way of course. He looks like he flew through the storm, and possibly a few trees, but he smiles widely and flutters from the hug. "Thank you Olivia," he tells the woman holding him up in a tired voice, adding in a much quieter whisper, "I almost thought it wasn't going to end well," and looks at Olivia with a fear in his eyes, the remnant of whatever awful fate they may have just avoided.