Greyhawk adventures - Artifact of Evil Part 4

Everyone studied the old map. No doubt crudely drawn originally, it nonetheless had been copied with exacting care. From what they could determine, they had to be within a few miles of their goal, only the ruin of the ancient city did not seem to exist. Many things were possible, but entire cities did not just disappear. Could it have been razed? If torn down stone by stone, a place such as the map depicted could be made to vanish. But there was no legend or tale that even hinted at this happening, and nothing of the sort in history, of course. Perhaps the whole thing was a fable. . . . Perhaps, but with so much evidence at hand, albeit information of cryptic sort, that seemed doubtful.

"In college," Gord said idly, "we spent some time in the study of natural history. Over ages, even the greatest of rivers change their courses, do they not?"

"You've hit on it!" Deirdre shouted, slamming Gord on the back so hard he nearly choked. "Without even knowing it," she announced to the others, "this city-bred commoner has solved a riddle even I couldn't! . . . Noofiense, Gord - or the rest of you, for that matter. It's just that we of n.o.bler birth are expected to bear a greater burden in such matters. Well, I say now's no time for chit-chat, but for action."

"Just so," Gellor agreed, casting an understanding smile at Gord and then a broad grin at the rest. "Our good cavalier here may not be diplomatic, but she is eager and willing. Let us press on now. From a vantage point on the river bank we can determine what needs to be investigated."

Leaving the clearing, the thirteen adventurers cut through the heavy underbrush, down a steep bluff of some twenty or thirty feet, and were soon on the relatively open bank of the river. The wizard cast one of his spells, levitating upward a hundred yards, then two hundred, surveying the whole of the surrounding territory. Oscar dropped downward like a stone then, evidently wary of possible attack by flying monsters when in such an exposed position. Gord was interested in the technique, for the wizard suddenly slowed his descent, floating much as a leaf in a gentle breeze for the final fifty feet of the descent.

"Ring of feather falling," Deirdre told him before he could ask anyone.

"There is a marshy place across the river to the south," Oscar told the awaiting company. "I could see streams and at least two large ponds there also. My supposition is that the Jewel once flowed through that area and has moved eastward since."

"Was there anything like ruins - buildings, walls, anything?" demanded Greenleaf.

The wizard considered for a moment. "No, there were no visible signs of any construction . . . but something did seem unusual."

"Out with it, man!" cried Gellor.

"The western side of the river is lower than this side, you know. I saw a few hills and ridges, but that wasn't what interested me.

Haifa league downstream, about at the midpoint of the marsh there, is a small peninsula - more a point of land, actually. It is wooded, indicating it is higher than the surrounding, marsh-covered ground, and had several knolls and mounds on it. I fear it isn't much of a hope, but that's all I can give us to go on. The ancient city could, after all, have been washed away or covered by the Jewel when some cataclysm changed its course."

The river where they stood was a long bowshot across, no more. If there were narrower places, they weren't nearby, soil was decided to cross to the west bank immediately and work southward from there. That way no risk of encountering oncoming pursuers was likely, although Oscar pointed out it would mean going through two or three hundred yards of swampy ground. Getting across with the horses was dangerous, for the river was both deep and swift. Furthermore, who knew what creatures lurked below the surface? Anything from giant garfish or pike to monstrous snapping turtles might be lying in wait for a meal!

Although they disliked doing it, Curley Greenleaf and his a.s.sociates, Ash, Grover, and Lorman, located a small herd of deer and after much effort managed to drive them into the water near where the party planned to cross. These creatures swam across the river,the current carrying them downstream, so that their course toward the opposite sh.o.r.e was a diagonal one.

Just as the deer were past the midpoint of the channel, and as the group was already beginning to swim in the wake of the herd, something struck. There was a great swirl in the water, and one of the deer simply vanished. One second its head was visible, the next only ripples showed where it had been. From their p.r.o.ne positions, none of the adventurers could see what took the animal, but whatever it was had been huge.

Although everyone was very nervous, and Oscar went immediately into the air to provide some protection from that vantage point, nothing further occurred. By using the horses and swimming strongly, they were all soon safely across and concealed in the trees.

The wizard ceased his magical flight and joined them, and after a bit of wringing out they began eagerly moving southward toward what they hoped was the goal of their quest.

After somewhat over a mile of forcing their way through the tangled forest, they noticed that the trees were smaller and there were tamaracks and similar water-loving kinds ahead. Then the ground underfoot became spongy and wet, quickly turning into tussocked bits of earth separated by shallow water. Before long, they were fighting against the drag of the mud, dirty and dripping with ooze, carefully choosing their path so as to avoid mires and deep pools.

There were large insects, huge spiders, and great, goggle-eyed frogs here aplenty. The batrachians evidently fed on the insects and arachnids, keeping them in relatively low numbers, and there were monstrous cranes and other gigantic wading birds that must have found the fish and frogs of the marsh most beneficial. Other than sinking forever in the muck, though, there was nothing hazardous here - at least during dieir pa.s.sage - and the thirteen bedraggled adventurers finally reached the piece of high, firm ground that formed a small peninsula jutting into the Jewel River.

"G.o.ds, you look a filthy mess," Deirdre said to Gord.

The young thief had stumbled and fallen part way into the marsh and then had covered himself with mud in the process of extricating himself. The female knight looked relatively dean and proper despite the trek, although her armor was sullied and her hair somewhat limp with sweat. Gord tried to dean his hands on his leggings, but got them only dirtier still, for the leather garments were caked with smelly, black muck. He looked at his hands and couldn't resist. . . .

"And you look wonderful, lady chevalier!" he exclaimed to Deirdre, and then patted her on both cheeks with his muddy palms and fingers.

Deirdre tried to avoid the touch, but Gord was much too quick. "You nasty little b.a.s.t.a.r.d!" she shouted at him, taking a step backward and trying to draw forth her broadsword at the same time. Her foot struck something, though, so Deirdre overbalanced backward and sat down hard.

"Oh, my dear!" Gord said in mock sympathy. "You must be too exhausted to stand . . . or is it simply that a woman as large and clumsy as you are can't manage a backward step without falling like an ox?"

"Why, you - " Deirdre managed, her face flushed. Then Oscar was beside her, pressing her shoulders down so she couldn't stand and strike the j.a.ping thief with her sword in her sudden ire.

"Relax, love," the wizard said soothingly. "We are all tired and in need of a bit of a breather. Don't let something foolish," and here he gazed meaningfully toward Gord, "betray your sworn oath to serve in this endeavor!"

Deirdre made a face at him, but she relaxed.

"You do look rather silly now, dear," he said to the girl. "Almost as sorry as Gord there - and he's a muckworm if I've ever laid eyes on one."

Everyone laughed then, and the tension was dispelled. Deirdre actually grinned at Gord, sharing his discomfort at being tired and dirty, and recognizing him as part of her team, as it were. She tried to get a bit more comfortable on her seat, then she suddenly jumped up and tore at the viny growth that had been under her.

"What's wrong?" Gord exclaimed, rushing over to see if perhaps something had bitten her.

"This is a stone block!" Deirdre shouted. "I've been sitting on our lost ruin for five minutes without knowing it!" Although the shadows were growing long, the whole group was so excited about the find that everyone wanted nothing more than to begin an immediate search for the great ziggurat at the center of the ancient metropolis. The area was so overgrown with ground cover, bushes, shrubs, and all sorts of trees that the party could not actually hope to do more than a cursory search before darkness.

After an hour or so, Blonk came across a collapsed structure that was still accessible. A portion of the lower story made an acceptable shelter, the walls and roof overhead being relatively sound. The place would serve as shelter against the weather and the night prowlers. It was sufficiently large to allow the party to stable their horses as well, so before long all were securely housed, with the entry partially blocked by chunks of masonry, magical guards in place, and a small fire going at the rear of the place.

"This is not Suel workmanship," Gellor remarked as he studied the bas relief carvings on the walls revealed by the ruddy firelight. "Come here, Curley, and take a look . . . this convoluted script is like none I've ever seen!"

Although time had worn the stone somewhat, the writing and carving were still clearly definable, sheltered as the stone was within the ruin. The druid agreed that it was totally unfamiliar. Gord took a look, as did Blonk, followed by Oscar. None recognized it as anything they had previously seen. No wonder that the Scarlet Brotherhood had no intelligence regarding this ruin. Legend had said a city of the Suloise had been here, but this place was certainly of origination predating the migration of the Invoked Devastation by centuries.

Incosee was called over to examine it, but he was as puzzled as the rest. It bore no resemblance to any Flan work he had seen, and he said he had seen some of the sacred writings and idols in Tenh. This was a riddle not to be solved quickly, and certainly of no importance compared to their quest. Still, the two factors could somehow be linked, and Gord went to sleep considering such a possibility, fearful of dreams such as those that had plagued him when he had been near another ruin - one imprisoning a demon.

Deirdre had the watch just prior to Gord's turn. When she woke him, he felt terribly listless and vaguely recalled uneasy scenes from his sleep. He whispered that he was awake and ready to stand guard, but the tough cavalier was in no rush to return to her bed.

"I'll keep you company, Gord . . . if you object not. I am too wide awake to slumber now," she added by way of explanation.

Gord was surprised but readily agreed, for he felt uneasy. "If you prefer the chill near the entry to a warm blanket, I have no objections to your company. I like this place not at all."

"It bothers you too, then?"

They moved to positions near the entrance and Gord related his adventure with the druid and Chert, involving a confrontation with a cataboligne demon. He told Deirdre of the malign foreboding and awful nightmares that accompanied proximity to the ancient ringstones and the crypt beneath the central cairn. While this place was dissimilar, Gord a.s.serted he also felt a bad premonition here -different, but strong nonetheless.

For once, Deirdre didn't scoff. "I understand your rede, Gord... This is a place better left undiscovered," she whispered. "As soon as we gain our prize, I wish nothing more than to leave it as far behind as possible, and never will I speak of it to another!"

"Aye," Gord said in agreement, "but think on this: The relic which is the counterbalance to the greatest evil was warded by a demon. What fell things are set round that which serves Tharizdun?"

"Speak not that name!" Deirdre hissed. Her look showed fear, and her voice shook as she spoke. "Locked in nighted prison or not, I think he can somehow still know and respond when his name is spoken! Remember, the savants say that the powers of Evil still draw from the dream-force of that terrible one!"

Her vehemence startled Gord, but the young thief readily understood her point and agreed. In the past, he was not much given to theological considerations of any sort. But this was different. Gord had learned many new things over the past year or two, and now his horizons had expanded further. Deirdre's warning could not be ignored. "Yes," he said earnestly, "you are right to rebuke me. I shall not be so careless in the future! Tell me, where do you think we should begin our explorations this morning?"

They spoke in whispers for the remainder of Cord's watch, and the golden light of the sun came soon to call the whole party to its task.

Chapter 8.

Malign hatred hung in the air. It seemed to permeate the great, ghastly hall in layers of palpable evil. The closer one came to the throne of silver-set human bones, the stronger the hatred and attendant fear became. Perhaps it was the air, filled as it was with the noxious fumes of ordure and other substances even more disgusting, which smoked in foetid lumps on the hot coals of the demon-figured bronze braziers fanned before the black dais.

If the stark city of Dorakaa was ugly and wicked, its palace was the nadir of such maleficence, and the reeking throne chamber its very pit. So tortuous its shapes, so horrific its decoration, so disgusting its every aspect, that few humans could remain sane within its confines. Men, and women too, were indeed therein, but of their sanity, who could speak? These dozen figures stood unmoving, heads slightly bent in deference, amid the waves of foul stench and washes of hatred. They awaited the word of their master, the occupant of the throne, the ruler of this place and all the landsaround . . . the great Iuz.

"Well? . . ." The question hung in the thick air. The rasping wheeze that voiced it - a sound of bone on slate, rusted iron drawn over splintered wood - somehow seemed to go on as if the moment would continue into eternity until the query was answered. A tall, emaciated man raised his eyes to the figure seated on the skull-ridden throne. A wizened old man sat there, a wrinkled, ancient figure whose eyes glowed with insane fires. These eyes locked upon those of the thin, tall mage, and the latter spoke quickly. "I ... we . . . have no success, Lord of Eldritch Evil." Hastening on before he could be interrupted, and being careful to avoid his master's baleful stare, the mage added, "Even with our combined powers, Lord Iuz, the opposition is too great - "

"Silence!" Somehow, the thin wheeze mat sounded this word shook each of the group who stood before the grim throne. The mage who was speaking when the command came had his jaws slammed shut, and his form twitched as if shaken by a giant, invisible terrier.

"How dare you tell me you cannot succeed!" The old figure trembled too, but with fury, and the wattles and wrinkles turned from gray to livid purple with the emotion. "You belittle the might of Iuz when you fail, and that is a crime which I punish in a manner so as to make death longed for!" With that, die horrible old man spat deliberately. The bead of spittle struck the quivering mage full in the forehead, and the thin magic-user dropped as if struck by a hammer.

" Iuz will nor bend his knee to anyone! Cursed be the Hierarchs and their diabolical masters! Twice cursed be those red-gowned nigglings who call themselves the Scarlet Brotherhood! Thrice d.a.m.ned to everlasting and tormented sleep be their Dark One, the one to bind all Evil together... never!" He paused in his tirade, looking from one to the other of the men and women before him, spell-casters all, whether magical or clerical. The one who lay still was the least amongst their number. These were the dregs of humanity - corrupt, evil, pitiless, deceitful, utterly without morals or virtue - but powerful and capable. Each bowed lower as the gaze of the master touched him or her, but each held his or her own hate and hubris up as a shield against the foul a.s.sault of Iuz's eyebite. This reaction pleased and amused the wizened ancient one into a fit of ghastly cackling.

"You are right," he said after the insidious laughter finally left him. " Iuz is proud of such filth as you, for the Dukes of the Nine h.e.l.ls would shudder at your powers and the minds which command them, but I am Iuz, I command, and you obey!

"Now, gather up that lump of dogs.h.i.t before My throne, or I shall burn him as I do other offal, and he would make a pretty stench, I think. . . . And then you will call upon your utmost and accomplish what is needed! I care not how - do it! Sacrifice every virgin you can find, call up those demons bound to you, utilize any force necessary, but succeed. You have until tomorrow at this time. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ancient Lord," they intoned in chorus.

"Tomorrow, then. Great as your reward for success will be, worse still the exaction for failure. Depart!"

Iuz watched the eleven slowly back from the chamber, one of their number using the dweomer of her staff to draw the comatose mage with them. When they were beyond the ma.s.sive bronze-sheathed valves that allowed entrance to the audience hall, the portals slammed shut at his wave, while several of the dretch who served as lackeys scudded hurriedly to avoid being crushed. One was too slow, and the ma.s.sive doors decapitated it as they closed. Iuz stayed still for a moment, enjoying the sight of the headless body of the demonling flopping about. Other dretches quickly removed it though, s...o...b..ring up the gore as they did so. Iuz chuckled, but this time in a ba.s.s tone that resonated through the stone chamber. His loutish servants hunched their gross bodies closer to the flags of the floor at this. In seconds all were gone from view. The cruel mirth boomed forth again, and then Iuz arose from his ma.s.sive chair of bones, skulls, silver, and gems. He now stood well over seven feet tall, and his features were unquestionably demoniac. It was time for him to visit his seraglio.

Iuz had many concubines - human, semi-human, and demon-sp.a.w.n as well. Who could say which he enjoyed most - beautiful, or horrifyingly malformed and ugly? Mammalian or reptilian? Iuz was a cambion, after all, the b.a.s.t.a.r.d son of a demon mated with a woman. In him, the worst of demon and human had combined to form the Ancient One, The Old, Iuz, Lord of Evil. He was full of hatred and malign purpose, and several hours spent desporting himself in the seraglio only served to increase his tension. Perverse and s.a.d.i.s.tic pleasures had served no purpose in this regard. Iuz silently cursed all, as was his habit. It seemed as if many great beings and powerful persons had conspired directly against him of late - the last century, in actual time, but to Iuz this was lately. While there was acertain sense of pride gained from this, a recognition of Iuz's true merit, as it were, the combination had harmed him nonetheless.

First his mother, Iggwilv, had turned against him, then disappeared. It was with her help that he had gained his realm, and she had promised to aid in its expansion. Well, rot her! Then, Graz'zt, disease rot his vitals, had been removed from his ken too. Graz'zt, Iuz's dear father - Iuz sneered at the thought - had actually done for his mother, and thus done for a portion of his son's immediate ambitions. Well, what would come next was yet to be seen. . . .

As if that weren't enough, Iuz himself had been tricked by an unmentionable being - and imprisoned! He, Iuz! It had taken many years to manage an escape, because the one who confined him was so irrational that no normal reasoning could break the bonds, but break free he did - only to find the lickspittle servants of Hades and Tarterus lording it over a portion of his realm. Yes, these demodand-kissing little humans and their ma.s.ses of ranked fireball fodder had proclaimed the eastern half of Iuz, His Realm, as theirs.

Being weakened from die long imprisonment, and needing to regroup his followers and gather more, Iuz had had to smile and show friendship. Yes, he loved it when the "Dreaded Hierarchs" made Molag, His Molag, summer capital of the Realm, their scat of power. Of course! He was pleased that their so-called Horned Society was there to combat the stinking fools who served good - after all, he had been detained elsewhere, hadn't he? Someone had to carry on the fight! When former allies swore fealty to the Hierarchs, Iuz had never reproached them. Never! That would have bespoken possible enmity, and Iuz was on good terms with all those who served Evil, wasn't he? Of course, he was anything but! But he needed to gain strength, and time.

Then his dear lady, Queen Zuggtmoy, came and joined with him. Together they would bring all Oerth under his rule, spread her pets over its surface, and jointly take their pleasure there, or on Zuggtmoy's plane in the Abyss. After all, there would be time then for planning new conquests, on other worlds and planes. But, as with Iggwilv, Graz'zt, and even himself, the demoness too was stripped from his ken, and foes pressed him from all sides. Iuz knew which beings, and humans too, were responsible, and one day they would be called to account .

Even stripped as he was of allies and friends, Iuz was by no means without resources. Foremost among them, naturally, were his own mighty intellect and powers. Then he had his servants, numbering in the tens of thousands - humans, demi-humans, humanoids, and even a number of major demons - although he distrusted most of the latter, for they either spied for Graz'zt or merely sought to curry favor without promising any real a.s.sistance. The drow were of some help. These dark elves had abandoned all service of the supposed Elemental Evil - that had been his and Queen Zuggtmoy's ploy anyway. To imagine that anyone could swallow the concept still caused Iuz to laugh with fiendish delight! What was more chaotic indeed than the ravening elements? At least a quarter of these nighted drow now served Iuz, much to the dismay of their mighty demoness mistress. Although Iuz did not wish to anger her - for the time for such confrontation was later - he did need those dark elves. Bandits and humanoid dregs were fine, but real power was in his hands, and the hands of those exceptional humans and demi-humans who had dedicated themselves to his service.

Iuz knew full well that there were men and women of great talent and power. Their might was such that they could challenge the rulers of the lower planes. Such of these as he could gather he cherished in his own and degrading way. Six of the greatest he had, and six just a little lesser, and six others beside that. Each of the first two groups knew of each other, but of the last six they knew nothing, just as each one in that latter group knew nothing of the others. As the first and second sixes worked and wrought as Iuz willed, the others did his bidding as well, only without any knowledge save their master's. Somewhere in the wide Flanaess were a human, a dwarf, an elf, a gnome, a halfling, and a half-elf, each supposing that he or she alone was a secret servant of the Lord of Ancient Evil.

Now each had a special mission to fulfill. Iuz took no chances. Still in the tall, fat demoniac form - perhaps his true one - Iuz pa.s.sed through a secret panel and descended a worn flight of steps. The labyrinth beneath his palace was extensive, but few, if any, besides the ancient cambion knew its full extent. After a time he came to a natural grotto, a place worn by water from the limestone. It was one of his favorite places, for the shapes formed by the slowly dripping water had made grotesqueries. Iuz had added his own touches, so that now the place resembled a nightmare world. He loved it. Calcified bodies writhed in stony agony, things leered, disgusting acts were committed to slowly evolving fruition by carefully channeled water. Here, he and Zuggtmoy had spent much time, and she had created a fungi garden unparalleled in nature. Its revolting colors, forms, and scents were even disquieting to Iuz at times . . . marvelous!

Now, however, there were visitors occupying this secret garden, as it were.

"Welcome, Lord Iuz," piped a voice from nearby. Three small drow stepped back, bowing. These were priests of Graz'zt, inconsiderable nothings, as were the three magic-users who rounded out the male contingent of the dark elves. There were also a pair of female clerics and the female leader of the emba.s.sy. These two likewise bowed to Iuz, informing him that their mistress was expecting him.

There, in a small, richly furnished alcove, was Eclavdra, amba.s.sador to the Court, and leader of the Eilserv Clan and all those drow who followed it.

"You look well, Lord," the beautiful Eclavdra said sweetly in her lilting soprano voice as she idly plucked another leg from a huge spider she had pinned to a table with a slender stilletto. "Your loving father sends you his greetings."

"Leave off the mockery, Eclavdra, and cease that foolishness with the eight-legger. I have things of import to discuss!"

The beautiful dark elf laughed the crudest laugh Iuz had been treated to in too long a time. "No mockery, Lord of Evil . . .

see?" Eclavdra thrust her lovely, ebon arm before the scissoring mandibles of the pain-wracked black widow. Instantly, the creature closed its jaws and pumped its venom, but instead of the expected result, the great spider suddenly released its hold, uttering a screeching chitter in terrible agony as it did so, and visibly disintegrated to a bubbling, soupy ma.s.s of foulness before Iuz's surprised gaze.

"The Mighty Graz'zt, your father, has bestowed a small favor upon me, Lord Iuz," she explained as she hungrily enjoyed the last of the putrefaction on the table, "and has likewise given me advice to pa.s.s along to his . . . son."

Iuz ground his sharp-pointed teeth at the studied insult, but he forced a smile and c.o.c.ked one eyebrow in inquiry. Although this made his countenance more ghastly and demoniacal than ever, Eclavdra seemed unaffected. "Mighty Graz'zt has recently triumphed, and now fully three layers of the Abyss are at the Prince's command. In celebration, Mighty Graz'zt has granted amnesty to your mother Iggwilv. Provided she obeys, he will loose her to aid his son's cause here on Oerth."

"What?!" This was astounding news. Iuz interjected the question as much to use magic to determine the truth of what this drow high priestess was saying as to express his incredulity.

"My words are not false, Lord of Evil," Eclavdra said with her beautiful, wicked smile. "But hear me out, for there is much more."

"Speak on then, dark elf female, but remember that you speak to Iuz!"

"And Lord Iuz must remember that he speaks to the Chosen of Graz'zt!" Eclavdra returned in icy warning. "Let us leave that aside, for it is both as Amba.s.sador of all true dark elves and as High Priestess of Mighty Graz'zt that I apprise you now. Those who rulethe Abyss are alerted to the danger which faces them all. None would serve as underlings of that One Who We Will Not Name, but most will agree to no joint plan of action. The two who claim greatest lordship tear at each other and your father, and with them fully a third of the others align - as suits their purposes - and the balance tilts. A certain few have aligned with Mighty Graz'zt, however, and with success here, your father knows others will follow. This, then, is what he charges his son with.

"You are to make no attempt to contact your mother, Iggwilv, until she has accomplished her task. Before you object, Graz'zt wishes you to know that your mother is charged with finding and freeing Queen Zuggtmoy - providing that she, Lady of Fungi, accepts the overlordship of Graz'zt and agrees to a.s.sist you in conquest of this world."

As Eclavdra made this last statement, Iuz's mind was racing. . . . So, Graz'zt thought to subjugate the Abyss through extraordinary means! Iuz had to admire the temerity of his father. If Zuggtmoy were forced to swear allegiance to him, Graz'zt would not only expand his territory but the impact on his influence would be tenfold. Every demon lord and lady would have to think carefully about incurring the enmity of so powerful a combination. Already Yeenoghu, the Demon Lord of Gnolls, was allied with Graz'zt.

Iuz grinned, knowing that allegiances could be broken as readily as sworn to. Let his Lady Zuggtmoy swear, and with her, Iggwilv too; none could stand before his conquest of this entire planet. The time was ripe for it, after all. The regimented and bureaucratic Hierarchs had embroiled their Horned Society in a useless war with the Free Lords of the Bandit Kingdoms, while the strutting, posturing minions of the Scarlet Brotherhood puffed themselves up with dreams of ruling all under the benighted power of That One Who Must Slumber Everlastingly. As fragmented as the forces of the Abyss were, their very nature made them unpredictable, while their numbers were undeniably equal to all others who opposed them, Good and Evil alike. Those fools who sought neutral balance would never commit themselves in time to prevent Iuz's mantle of empire from covering all Oerth! Then, oh yes, then, Iuz would show "Mighty Graz'zt," and others too, who was true Lord of All!

Iuz's penetrating stare had been fixed upon Eclavdra as his mind raced over the prospects of what she had said. Whether this gaze had made her pause, or whether she was waiting for a reply before continuing, Iuz could not guess, although the dark elf s jet-black complexion seemed a trifle paler. Iuz decided to break the silence.

"That, dear high priestess," he said flatly, "is a revelation indeed. I must needs think on the import a time, but pray go on with your message as I ponder."

"Yes, Lord Iuz," Eclavdra said, with a hint of a trembling betrayed in the last note. She looked away for a moment and picked up a flagon formed from a small skull, chased with gold and bestudded with a rainbow of small gems. After draining its content of black liquor to the dregs, pretending thirst and dry throat from her speech, the drow cleric faced Iuz again, her confidence restored. Dealing with this one, the greatest and most evil of all cambions, was trying. . . . Even with the ultimate knowledge that Graz'zt spoke through her.

"My lord," she continued, "your father charges you with location of one or both of the remaining portions of the Tripart.i.te Artifact of All Evil. He says that the lickspittles of the Scarlet Brotherhood already hold that portion dear to the Abyss - and even now they seek the part which commands their ilk, those who sit astride the Dukes of h.e.l.l and think themselves the most fit. He orders you to gain it instead and pa.s.s it to me for conveyance to a place of safe-keeping which your father will determine."

Iuz detected her lie as she said this, and picked up an unguarded thought that told him she intended to use the portion of the artifact to bend all drow to her will - a counter to Iuz's own empire above!

Eclavdra studied the towering cambion's features for a hint of reaction, but Iuz only nodded thoughtfully, as if considering.

"Mighty Graz'zt has many of his servants in and on Oerth searching for the location of that portion which rules ordered Evil. You are to join this effort, searching the southern realms midway between your own holding and that land ruled by the pale Suloise jackals in their red garments."

"I see," murmured Iuz softly. "And is there more from my caring progenitor?"

Eclavdra swallowed, but set her sculpted features firmly and replied. "The New Master of the Abyss commands your absolute obedience and the faithful fulfillment of his instructions. Failure will mean the end of your domain here - your death! Mighty Graz'zt promises that his son, and Iggwilv, and the demoness Zuggtmoy too, will meet utter destruction at his hands should you fail in your mission! Before he will bow to the Ultimate Sleeper, those instruments which have failed his purpose will be removed from existence to lessen his humiliation. That is all."

Iuz rose to his full height, looming over the seated drow as a giant above a halfling. Rage flushed his reddish complexion to a maroon color that a pit fiend would have been proud to possess. His pea-green eyes fairly burned, and he trembled with suppressed fury.

Now Eclavdra reacted, recoiling from the ma.s.sive figure in fear for her life, hastily trying to prepare some defense against his impending a.s.sault.

His eyes froze her before she could begin the somatic gestures of her incantation. One long, sinewy finger pointed its black, talon-tipped length at her, and the high priestess of Graz'zt forgot her exalted master and his aegis. Eclavdra dropped to her knees in front of him and clasped her hands before her in supplication. Before she could utter any pleading, Iuz himself spoke.

"Never, never again speak to me as an equal," he hissed through his clenched, needlelike teeth. "That position is appropriate,"

he continued, as he grasped Eclavdra by her silken, white tresses and forced her head further back, so that the drow had no choice but to meet his burning gaze squarely. "If needs be, you may stand before me, head bowed, but I find this more pleasing for many reasons. . . .

Yes, I see you understand! Now you listen as I tell you what your reply to Graz'zt is to be. I speak as equal to equal, not as son to father, nor as lesser to greater. I will aid Graz'zt against his enemies, just as he will aid me against mine, as one king makes pact with another.

Graz'zt's realm and my own are separated, different. We shall both profit from a mutual success, and neither threatens the other.