Greyhawk adventures - Artifact of Evil Part 11

"Call upon any names your heart knows are inimical to those of Evil," Curley Greenleaf added desperately as he himself prepared to unleash his own spell powers. "Neither of us can aid you now," he said, and the druid turned to face the lightless ma.s.s that besmirched the ground but a hundred paces distant.

As his comrades began to work what spells they could to bring woe to such fell adversaries, Gord could not refrain from glancing quickly at the scene before him. His extraordinary new vision enabled him to see clearly, but he focused on the four men being held at bay, not upon the nauseating pair who attacked them. One of those he saw was a giant of a man hefting a huge axe. Gord nearly started and dropped the precious scroll. That was Chert! His mind screamed at him to run to stand and die fighting at his friend's side, but reason held Gord in check.

Rays and bolts of unnameable colors were playing upon the ghastly figure and its murderous mount, as quarrels and sling bullets flew at them. Gord heard the one called The Reaper give vent to peals of sepulchral laughter at these efforts, and the evil rider spoke in a h.e.l.lish voice.

"Now I claim you all for my flock, nigglings," Nerull boomed as he flew from the huge, winged daemon-thing. "Your souls and the Second Key shall be my gifts to He Who Will Awaken!"

This Gord heard, but he was unmindful of the meaning. Neither did he think of the beast or of Nerull's scythe. Gord had begun to read the twisting and writhing lines inscribed on the sheet of ancient parchment.

If the rider was impervious to the attacks of the beleaguered party, not so the daemon Putriptoq. It was stung by the spells and missiles. It lunged its t.i.tanic bulk forward, furious at the affront and ravening to crush and tear and devour those who dared to hurt him so. This fury saved the four defenders, for the monster's rush prevented The Reaper from plying his weapon.

"Be still!" Nerull commanded the winged behemoth. The thing felt the searing pain of the scythe, though the contact was a mere touch. Cowed, Putriptoq drew back and huddled its bulk upon itself. Then Nerull stepped to the fore.

All the while, Gord had been reciting the near unp.r.o.nounceable words of the banishment spell. His eyes burned, and his tongue felt as if it were possessed by a serpent. Beads of sweat sprang from his forehead and ran into his eyes while his hands shook and water seemed to fill his knees. He invoked the names of the deities Celestian and Fharlanghn, and Rao from dimly remembered prayers of childhood, as the text demanded that beings of power be called upon. Gord tried to shout forth the spell, but his mouth was dry and his voice cracked, and the words seemed to be mere croakings and guttural, meaningless mumblings to his straining ears.

"This takes an eternity. You are too late!" one part of the young thief s mind babbled. Somehow he ignored the thought and read the scroll to its finish. The conclusion nearly gagged him, his throat was so raw, and the words brought agony to Gord's whole being.

"Ehlohum, XetorMudeelsa, Adonai . . . Rexfelis!" Gord shouted the conclusion, adding the name of the Cat Lord for good measure, for it seemed that one had certainly aided him in his quest.

A colorless sheet of nothingness descended before Gord's eyes. His mind closed upon itself and went blank.

A terrible wail spread outward from Nerull. The daemon beast took up the sound, and it became a groaning bellow that echoed and rebounded upon hill and plain, over meadow and marsh, piercing woodland and valley for a league - and was even faintly heard in Krebalsthorp a score of miles away. The earth was blasted from the spot as thunder boomed and lightning beat a frenzied tattoo roundabout, while tornadic winds howled and roared so that no vegetation within a mile stood whole and green when their work was finished. Rocks split and smoke shot from great fissures. Flames sprang from the very air to whirl and dance and consume, but even these ravening tongues were whipped and shredded to nothingness by the fury of the whirlwinds. There was a clap of sound as if iron had been slammed upon iron by two angry giants...

...And then, there was nothing save the scoured, ruined land.

Chapter 17.

The lord of pain danced in glee through the great halls of his palace in Dorakaa. Those who served Iuz hid from his sight, lest he suddenly change his mood and punish those who viewed his gloating cavort. Iuz laughed and jeered and pranced, knowing the fear these actions evoked in his minions, and the feeling doubled his joy.

"Fonkin, frightface, foul boy! You are naught but My own root!" he called, mimicking children's rhymes as he pranced in step to his own ditty. After a time, though, Iuz tired of his vaunting. It was gladsome to his vile heart, but enough! There was much yet to do.

Iuz sent forth a thought: "Attend Me instantly!" Then he sprawled his corpulent bulk upon his chair of bones and skulls and awaited the coming of those who served him.

"Lord of Ancient Evil, your servants attend their Master," said a woman of indeterminate years who wore vestments of rust red trimmed in black. In her hand was an ebon staff bound with silver and topped with a silver-set skull, an object indicating her status as High Priestess.

Six heads bowed before him. "You are the Greater Six, and as My right hand, you will be the first to know of My coming triumph," Iuz said in a gloating tone. As he spoke, the half-dozen clerics lifted their bowed heads and stood quietly with rapt attention.

They knew the cambion was about to relate something of unusual importance, for his antics were known throughout the nightmarish palace.

"My plan is nearing fruition," Iuz boomed. "Far to the south the weaklings have finally gotten enough courage to band together. They are going to battle with a host of the Stinking Brotherhood" (of course Iuz referred to the scarlet-clad servants of regimented h.e.l.l, his listeners knew) "and the two will neutralize each other." There was a soft murmur of pleasure from the listeners, for they antic.i.p.ated ill for the Kingdom of Furyondy and the Archclericy of Veluna - two states who constantly sought the downfall of their master, and of themselves as well.

"Happy as that news is," Iuz purred, scratching his great belly and ignoring their minor interruption of his speaking, " I have even better word!" At this the six froze into silence and attention once again.

"Molag is in confusion! Three of the Hierarchs are missing, My spies tell Me, and there are reports of some terrible loss somewhere . . . but even this is not the best news!"

"May the plans of our Ancient Master always prevail," the entourage intoned in unison.

Beaming with malign pleasure, the great cambion raised his voice to a triumphant ba.s.so that filled the ghastly throne room."My tools now come near. With them they bear the Second Key, that portion of the Artifact of All Evil most dear to the Dunglump Who Must Forever Sleep. Once that portion is safe in My hands, never will I allow it from My grasp. It will make Iuz more powerful. It will bend the Abyss to My will, for as long as the artifact remains separate, never will the others be able to force their wretched little plans upon Me! Upon the Abyss! Upon the only True Evil!"

"Our Lord of All Evil speaks. We hear and accept," the six said in ritual response to the utterances of the cambion.

"Listen now, for I have instructions for each of you." So saying, Iuz rapped a brazen tube beside his throne, and the h.o.r.n.y knuckles of the demonling caused the cylinder to shudder with a mournful bell tone.

A pair of dretch swung the chamber doors apart, and a huge naba.s.su, wings flared, strode three paces into the room. The demon bent its knee and asked in a rasping boom, "Your wish, Eldritch Lord?"

"Fetch the amba.s.sador of the drow here at once," Iuz said, The man-eating demon bowed, backed from the throne room, and the bronze valves were shut again by the dretch servants. Iuz smiled at his trusted lieutenants, his mouth full of pointed teeth seeming to split his face in half as he did so, then continued his instructions.

"Mole, you are a.s.signed to work with Olive of my Lesser Six. You are to take a force of buheer and nonuz. You will command them, My regiment of Black Death, and a company of drow. You are to invade the lands of the Hierarchs, raise the wild Uroz and free reavers there, and march on Molag! I want My city back!"

A short, long-nosed mage stepped forward a pace, bowed, and replied, "I hear and obey, Ancient Lord." As he said this a pretty woman wearing the garments of a cleric of Iuz came from a curtained alcove nearby and stood one pace behind Mole, likewise making obeisance.

"Good," the cambion said as he motioned for a tall old crone, wearing a black robe covered with magical sigils, to join Mole and Olive. "Your second will be Althea, and she shall have the illusion-worker called Jumper at her beck as well. General Sindol knows My plan, and he will inform you of it. Go at once! You must begin your march immediately - do not fail!"

As the four were departing, Iuz pointed to yet another of his Greater Six. "Kermin-Mind-Bender!" A turbaned Bakluni bowed deeply. "Take the wizard, Null, and go amongst the rulers of the Bandit Kingdoms. Give them heart. Tell them I, Iuz, come to their aid.

Renegade nomads and a host of others are ripe for war. Pa.s.s through the Fellreev Forest on your way. Bring them south with you. Slay the servants of the Horns. Make certain that the petty lords understand and invade the enemy after they are driven out."

"Yes, Ancient One. We will cross the Ritensa and harry the enemy all the way to Molag, or I am nothing," said the swarthy illusionist with hard arrogance in his voice.

"Exactly," said the green-eyed creature who sat on the throne above him. "Else your skull and bones will make a footstool here!" Null, a nondescript man, had joined Kermin during the course of the instruction from Iuz. Both now backed from the chamber and were gone. Half of the Greater Six remained, and Iuz now addressed them, calling in the remaining Lessers as he did so.

"Halga, My Grand Priestess, and Vayne, too, for your magic, you two shall remain here for staff duty. Radduj, Beesting - a fine pair to venture into the upper reaches of the Vesve. There you will whip the sniveling Celbits and Jebli into a frenzy of hate against men and elves. Make the forest and the northern portion of the Valley of Highfolk a charnel house. You will have a.s.sistance."

"As you command, Eldritch Lord," the two intoned in reply, then departed.

"Ormuz, arch-mage - with Patch, My High Priest, you will go to the southern portion of the Vesve and likewise incite the bands there to murder and pillage. You will have companies of My Woodsrunners and Eiger Guards. This is a most crucial part of My plan, so you two will remain until all others have gone. Then will I give you final instructions. . . ."

The huge bronze doors to the throne room were suddenly opened by the miserable slave demons, the dretch, to allow the grand entrance of Eclavdra. In addition to her entourage of dark elves, the drow n.o.blewoman was flanked by a pair of succubi and a cadaverous cleric arrayed in the full panoply of a priest of Graz'zt. Eclavdra strode into the chamber, bowed slightly, and allowed a tiny smile to cross her lips as she addressed Iuz.

"My Lord has requested my attendance?"

Iuz was torn between laughter and fury. His demon sire had learned of Eclavdra's humiliation at the cambion's hands and had sent her guards. The strikingly lovely and totally evil drow had accepted these reinforcements as a confirmation of her own status, and again she was speaking to Iuz as an equal. What had Graz'zt promised her? Certainly queenship of all the dark elvenfolk - who could guess what else? Well, no matter. . . .

"Requested? Well, I will let that pa.s.s, for there is much cause for magnanimity," said Iuz with a mocking tone. "My plans go ahead as expected. The Hierarchs are in confusion. The fraternity of devils' curs is beset with difficulties. I send forth My hosts on all fronts, and ... it ... comes near!"

A brief look of confusion pa.s.sed over the features of the beautiful drow. "All fronts, Lord Iuz?" Eclavdra asked.

"Just so. My magus, Mole, will need the a.s.sistance of your best company of fighters, dear Eclavdra, during his ... foray . . . into the lands to the southeast." Iuz paused and gave the drow n.o.blewoman a meaningful glance. Then he added, "You and the remainder of your force here should most certainly accompany the expedition I am sending into the Vesve to bring retribution to the lowly elves and their ilk who dare to resist My will there."

"Molag?"

"A diversion, Lady - though indeed I would have My city back. . . ."

"And who goes into the lands of the Hierarchs?" the dark elf high priestess of evil inquired slowly.

Iuz seemed slightly confused and surprised by the question. "No fear as to that. Fully half of My chosen ones will bring woe to those faceless wearers of cuckoldry - four of the best to confront the Hierarchs directly, and a pair to raise allies amongst the Free Lords of the East."

"So," murmured the drow n.o.blewoman, "that explains the great disturbance to the south - at the very gate into the realm of the Hierarchs, I am told - "

"What?" the cambion demanded. "What's that you say?!"

Eclavdra went on blithely. "And The Reaper himself was thought to have had something to do with the flux and disruption of forces arcane. . . ." She trailed off, pondering, hardly glancing at the stony-faced demi-demon sitting enthroned before her.

Suddenly Eclavdra's beautiful face worked with fury. "You foo..." She bit the word off when she saw the burning and sickly fire within Iuz's eyes, contained her anger, and smoothed her countenance and her words. "... fortunately ... ah ... seek to take advantage of the Hierarchs' weakness now, of course. So instead of going westward into the depths of Vesve's timber, I will send all of my minions - your servants, Lord Iuz - eastward with the army attacking Mo-lag." Snarling, Iuz spat, "I command otherwise!""Yes, Lord of Evil, but I am only a mere amba.s.sador. I must do as my Master Graz'zt commands, even before I obey you. It is your father's wish that the drow force be sent to the area of greatest . . . threat, shall we say?"

Iuz shot from his throne, his visage a mask of terrible rage. The drow n.o.blewoman took an involuntary step backward, closer to her attendants. This made the cambion pause and glare at them. Corpselike cleric and demonesses alike fingered the basalt symbols of Graz'zt that they wore around their necks, but all stood resolute.

The ire slowly drained from Iuz, and he spoke again. "As you point out, My father Graz'zt wishes otherwise, and he, like Me, is a sovereign in his own realm. Because he is all these things, and more, I choose to grant your request to send your force against our enemies squatting in Molag. Now begone! I have had enough of drow and their servants for today!"

The chamber was absolutely silent as Eclavdra and her train departed. As the bronze doors boomed shut behind them, Iuz surveyed his minions without expression. Each betrayed an emotion - outrage, shock, anger, unbelief. "Ahh," the cambion thought to himself with pleasure. "All save Halga suspect nothing. . . ."

Iuz waved a huge, taloned hand toward his servants and addressed them. "Come close and gain wisdom." As they advanced toward him, he continued.

"Am I not Iuz, Lord of Ancient and Eldritch Evil? Would you serve a lesser being? Why, then, do you doubt Me now? But we must take precautions, for this palace is as rife with traitors and spies as the Vesve. None do I trust, save you - and you but little! Now, cast your wards and meshes to prevent all from learning what you are about to have revealed."

There was a flurry of activity as the greater and lesser members of Iuz's chosen did as commanded. "All is secure, Lord," said Halga after a time.

Iuz nodded and spoke in a conspiratorial tone. "I am much pleased with My faithful servants - you especially, and one who is coming to join you. All my enemies have proved themselves to be fools and dupes. Mark you, all! The lickspittle slaves of the self-righteous do-gooders brawl with the lock-stepping prancers after devils' dung. Their champions chase after decoys. Hierarchs invoke their vaunted master, and that one plays the Prince of Fools!"

At this revelation, Halga dared to ask, "Lord of Pain, will you enlighten us further?"

Iuz was feeling magnanimous. "Yes, My little ones, I shall! Ormuz, you are a good left hand to Me, and Patch the thumb of it.

You must reach most carefully into the Vesve and withdraw a dwarf and what he bears."

"You mean . . ." said the cleric, Patch, in awe.

"Yes," leered Iuz horribly, "and wise you were not to speak of . . . it. The dwarf is called Obmi, an old and well-used servant of Mine. Cherish him, but if a choice must be made, bring what he bears and leave him to his own recourse. Ormuz and Patch, in this you cannot fail!"

The pair bowed in acknowledgement of their charge.

"Splendid! Now, Halga, you are My right hand and Vayne its thumb, as it were. I must coordinate a great effort now. You are the ones who will a.s.sist Me in this first step toward rulership of Oerth . . . and more, too, when the time is ripe. None must be certain of My plans and motives. Will I send My forces to Vesve and the elven realm of Highfolk? We know that will be, but it is a sideshow.

Molag and the Hierarchs? Of course, but as dear as is My desire to bring those sheep to skewering, it too is a distraction. The Bandit Kingdoms? Again, certainly! They are but petty allies, good for any time I choose, but let the Shield Lords and Furyondy think otherwise.

"Eclavdra and her drow? She will aid in the subterfuge; all the better unknowing! Better still, she will help to hoodwink the one who proudly names Me Son. Drow companies will bedevil the marches to the far west, and Veluna will turn that way in fear and consternation, torn between the hordes of the Scarlet Brotherhood in the Kron Hills and the threat of what might transpire in Bissel.

Long is My memory, all-pervading My tentacles of action.

"And there is yet more! My dearest mother has duped those red-wrapped bundles of filth. Their war is only a distraction for her. I am well informed that she has come upon the prison of Queen Zuggtmoy, and in a short time My Lady of Fungi will join Us here in Dorakaa. With Iggwilv, she shall share My coming triumph!"

Iuz paused to allow admiring looks and murmured praise to wash over his obscene bulk. "Our Lord of Evil is all victorious!"

offered one underling. "We acknowledge the everburning Evil which now lights the Empire of Iuz!" said another.

It went on like this for some minutes. Then the cambion made a small gesture, and there was silence again.

"And now, My va.s.sals, the best of all," Iuz said softly with a leering smile. "The Hierarchs so misread what I was doing that their number brought the t.u.r.d-head of death, their miserable master, to foil Me. The Reaper reaped naught but something unsatisfactory, for he and the Hierarchs who bussed his bony b.u.m at every step are gone - vanished from the skin of Oerth. With them went an army of the Hierarchs' finest soldiers and b.e.s.t.i.a.l servants, a host of great strength.

"Where? Well might you wonder. They are all slain, these lesser ones. They fertilize the good weeds and feed the distended bellies of the scavengers for a hundred miles.

"There is no power of good, not one, nor any being of any menace to us there," Iuz said rea.s.suringly as he saw the concerned expressions on the faces of his loyal henchmen. "Of that I am most certain, so let your minds be at rest." He said this without allowing any hint of his lack of other knowledge to color his rea.s.surance. Iuz was annoyed at being unable to determine exactly what had happened, but the opportunity was there nonetheless, and he had seized it with an iron grip.

"The Horned Society is sorely wounded, and We shall deliver the coup de grace to them as a by-stroke of Our grander scheme.

No interference from Hades will be forthcoming."

The four departed thereafter, and Iuz sat in his chair envisioning his empire to come.

Chapter 18.

"Droll."

"Droll?"

"As amusing as a kitten," affirmed the Master Cat.

At that, Cord's companions burst into laughter, for his expression was pained at the indignity of the a.n.a.logy. At the sound of his friends' hilarity, the young adventurer a.s.sumed a haughty expression and turned away, ostensibly to admire the pair of ma.s.sive spotted lions that purred beside the padded armchair in which the Catlord sat.

Gellor came to Gord's rescue. "Then it was not you who brought us here?""Hardly, bard. It is as much a mystery to me as it is to you. Make the best of it - as I am doing. You'll manage," their host drawled. This brought more, if somewhat uneasy, laughter from the others. "Contemplating the course of events, I might hazard an opinion," the velvet-garbed fellow added.

"We would be grateful for your counsel, sir," Gellor said in a way which indicated that master was not being asked to instruct pupil.

"As you wish," said the Master Cat with a knowing smile. "Gord simply botched the spell. He misp.r.o.nounced the key sounds, as it were, reversing them. His inclusion of me, the incantation of my name, wrought the final stage of the dweomer. Instead of whisking Nerull and his b.e.s.t.i.a.l steed off to Hades, young Gord here managed to bring you ail with him here - to my secret domain! Most droll!

You related that your comrade . . . Incosee? . . . had been made panicksome by the aura of these daemonkin. He was beyond the power of the spell. As to the other . . . Lizard, I believe you named him . . . well, the dead are not subject to such magic."

Gord flushed in embarra.s.sment. "I meant to call certain powers to our aid. How could I manage to get it so wrong?"

"Better you here than me there!" their host said fervently. "I have no desire to stand face to face with The Reaper - at least not without great preparation and strong allies! How you managed to bring all here is a conundrum, for this place is hid betwixt and between the Ethereal, Astral, and Prime Material Planes. There is that of the cat in you for certain, Gord. Do not, I pray, become apprentice to a spell-binder, though - else who knows what havoc you will wreak with the recondite arts!"

As the group relaxed in chuckling and banter, the Master Cat looked at them with a not unfriendly gaze. Furred humanoids with feline features and tails appeared. They served the adventurers fermented mare's milk and an a.s.sortment of snacks - slivers of fowl, b.a.l.l.s of ground raw meat, pickled fish, smoked sh.e.l.lfish. The adventurers ate the food and drank the k.u.miss with obvious pleasure.

The Catlord arose but insisted that they continue their meal. "There are matters I must attend to, but I request that you remain and enjoy yourselves as my guests. Such stuff as bread, vegetables, and fruits will come later - it is provender of the sort unusual to this place. When you have had your fill, simply sound this silver bell here. My servants will come and see to your needs. Rooms are prepared for each of you, and there will be those things you require to be clean and comfortable as well. Enjoy yourselves until I return,"

he said and simply vanished as he stepped through a nearby doorway.