"Lord Torm," Bane murmured sweetly. "My spies told me that you were in Tantras, but I never expected such a showy reception."
"Is it true?" the God of Duty growled, the bestial features of his lion-headed avatar curling as he spoke.
"You'll have to be more specific," Bane sighed.
"Did you steal the Tablets of Fate?" Torm screamed. The god's voice echoed over the city. "Are you the one responsible for the chaos in the world?"
"I cannot take all the credit," Bane noted calmly. "I had a fair amount of assistance. I'm sure you know by now that the Lord of Bones aided me in the theft itself. And, of course, Ao's vast overreaction to that theft has played no small part in forging the unsettled state of the world."
The God of Duty curled his huge hands into fists and took a step toward Bane. "You're insane," he growled. "Don't you realize what you've done?"
Torm raised his right fist high over his head. There was a burst of light, and a metal gauntlet covered the hand. Next, the lion-headed giant waved his gauntleted fist and a huge, flaming sword flashed into existence, seemingly from the air itself. Finally, the God of Duty bent his left arm slightly, and a shield bearing his symbol appeared. Torm took another step forward and raised his sword to strike.
The God of Strife stood his ground and sighed. "You have no idea what you're doing, Torm. If you destroy me, your pitiful little encampment will be wiped from the face of Faerun."
Torm stopped for an instant then took another step forward. "You're lying."
Bane laughed, and the deep, bellowing noise shook the roofs on the houses near the city wall. "I saw Mystra destroyed in Cormyr, you fool. She tried to return to the Planes, and Helm simply murdered her." The obsidian avatar paused and smiled. "And when she died, bolts of energy swept the land and destroyed everything for miles around. It was actually rather pleasant."
Torm stood in shocked silence, so Bane continued. "I am here to retrieve something of mine that I left in Tantras a short time ago. Allow my soldiers to take my property to one of my ships, and I will leave," the Black Lord lied. "There need not be any violence between us."
"Something of yours?" Torm asked, shocked out of his silence. "You mean the Tablet of Fate that found its way to my temple."
Bane was genuinely surprised. If Torm had the tablet, why hadn't he simply returned it to Helm? the dark god wondered. Actually, it didn't matter, as long as the tablet was still in Faerun and not in Ao's hands. "I placed the Tablet of Fate in your temple myself, only a few hours before Ao cast us out of our homes," Bane said, trying to seem at ease. "I thought it was a rather amusing little joke, hiding something stolen by an unfaithful servant in a temple to the God of Duty."
Torm gripped his sword tightly. "Turn back, Bane. I will not let you take the tablet. It belongs to Ao and it's my sworn duty — "
Bane snorted. "Please spare me the lecture on duty, Torm. You should know me well enough by now to realize that an appeal to honor is the last thing that would impress me."
"Then we have nothing else to say, Lord Bane," Torm spat. "If you will not leave, prepare to defend yourself."
Bane took a step back as Torm's sword sliced the air in front of him. Bane willed a night-black shield to materialize on his arm, and he raised it just in time to block Torm's next blow. There was an explosion as the mystical sword and shield met. Both items shattered into fragments of energy and dissipated.
Bane surged forward and rammed into Torm. The God of Duty had raised his shield in time to protect himself from the deadly spikes jutting from the obsidian avatar, but the shield itself shattered from the blow. The God of Duty and the God of Strife stumbled together, back through the twenty-five-foot wall that surrounded Tantras. The giants crashed into Torm's temple, and part of the building collapsed.
Bane pushed Torm against the remains of the temple, and huge chunks of stone toppled to the ground. From somewhere close by, the God of Duty heard tiny screams. Panic seized Torm as he realized that the cries were coming from the few people left in his house of worship.
The God of Duty struck Bane in the throat. When the God of Strife fell back from the force of the blow, Torm struck him again and again in the same spot. The God of Strife felt a slight crack open in his neck, and he reached out in desperation to grab Torm's mailed fist.
At the same time, the God of Duty opened the massive jaws of his lion head and leaned toward the Black Lord's face. The God of Strife fell backward to avoid the rows of jagged, golden teeth, and Torm's mouth snapped shut in the air near Bane's neck. Seeing that the Black Lord was off balance, Torm drove his foot into the obsidian giant's chest and pushed him back outside the crumbled city wall. The God of Strife crashed to the ground, sending tremors throughout Tantras.
Torm stood over Bane and raised his mailed fist. The Black Lord struggled to rise, but the huge spikes in his armor had been pushed deep into the hard earth by his fall. Torm's fist crashed into Bane's throat again, and the tiny, almost imperceptible fissure there opened wider. A tiny flow of reddish amber light seeped into the air.
But Torm did not escape this attack unharmed either. As Bane thrashed about, trying to defend himself against the God of Duty, one of the spikes on the Black Lord's armor punctured Torm's lower arm. The lion-headed avatar wailed in pain, and he fell back, clutching his ragged wound.
As the God of Duty stumbled away from the Black Lord, toward the edge of the cliff, he felt a horrible weakness. Looking down to the wound Bane had inflicted, the god saw a steady flow of sky-blue light pouring into the air. He felt a morbid fascination as he watched the soul energies of his worshipers pass from the ragged hole. Torm looked away from the wound just in time to see the Black Lord's fist crash into his face.
Stunned by the ferocity of the attack, Torm was unprepared as the God of Strife struck him again. After the second blow, the God of Duty swung wildly at the Black Lord and hit him in the face with the back of his hand. Bane's head snapped back and a small chip flew from his face. The God of Strife instinctively raised his hand to the wound. In the shiny black of the avatar's hand, the fallen god glimpsed a reflection of the tiny jet of the greenish amber flame that escaped from the hole. With a scream, Bane leaped forward and tackled Torm.
Both avatars tumbled over the edge of the cliff. As the giants fell, they separated. Bane struck the mountainside twice before he landed on the rocky shore. Torm, another hole in his shoulder from the spikes on Bane's body, reached out and tore a tree from its roots in an effort to slow his descent. The effort was futile, of course, and he crashed to the beach several hundred yards from the Black Lord. For the avatars, though, this was a distance that could be crossed in seconds.
Torm rose first. As he stood up, he saw two ships that bore the Zhentish flag wallowing in the Dragon Reach, far from shore. A few small boats were rushing to shore, up the coast a little ways off. The God of Duty swore a silent oath that he would kill every Zhentish invader he could catch… as soon as he had slain their master.
The Black Lord was only now beginning to rise. As he lifted his head from the sand, Bane looked down and saw another crack in his chest. More reddish black vapors streamed from the opening. "You fool," the God of Strife hissed. He looked up and saw Torm standing over him.
The God of Duty held a boulder over his head. The chunk of stone was so large that the giant, lion-headed avatar was using both hands to hold it up. "You must pay for your sins," Torm said flatly, then smashed the boulder over Bane's head. The rock burst into pieces and more of the obsidian avatar's face cracked. In return, Bane impaled the God of Duty's leg with one of the spikes on his arm. Torm stumbled back, a geyser of soul energy rising from his wounds.