Dance of Demons

Chapter 5

The clangor of iron gongs was rolling thunder across the field. The beating of the sixty great discs almost drowned out the tramp of demon foot and dreggal hoof. A hundred thousand feet and even more hooves: the hard ground trembled.

As a great avalanche moves came the center of Demogorgon's horde. The twin-tailed banners above Demogorgon's own guards were of obsidian black and bright green, just as were the tabards of the thickly thewed dusin demons who marched beneath the flapping pennons. A dozen or more other flags sprouted from the blocks of soldiers flanking them: gold and maroon represented the dreggals, stark purples and plums trimmed with a rainbow of other hues showed where contingents from Hades advanced, while dull violet and somber old silver showed the strength of cacodaemon contingents recruited from Tarterus.

When the center was well away, splayed feet with homy talons, flat elephantine feet, and a weird variety of other sorts too began to move. In ordered step and in disordered stride, a quarter of a million beings and beasts from all the nether realms went forward. Before and behind were scores of petty demon princes and nobles from the other dark planes. The pit hag Raanwil Ledli strode before the cacodaemons in all her obese splendor. Oqokashtor waddled behind the mass of dreggals, with Volophon and Meurteenz having the unenviable forefront positions. Poshban, Agadin, Zerkaar, Vloorm, and other such lordlings from the Abyss drove on their masses of demons. There would be no straggling, no shirking, no flight When the time came, these greater ones would have their work too, for each had enemy champions to fight against, from minor lord to flamewrapped raloog.

Thus all across the entire plain the horde of Demogorgon came, rolling down upon Vuron's position so that its center would strike with the flanks refused — for there, the ape-headed demonking knew, was where the greatest strength of the enemy was clustered. Into the very heart of the albino's line went the attack with the guard dusin corps leading. Both Mandrillagon and Demogorgon were with the roaring dusins, exhorting the demons on, using the force of the Theorpart to strike the foe, to counter any magic used against the attack.

When the wedge-shaped formation of Demogorgon's own struck the thin line opposing it, though, there was a sudden shift. The dusins struck at nothing. The enemy had been naught but illusion. Instead, the line that actually existed was a V-shaped one, and its base was packed with fesroo twenty ranks deep and stiffened by the grinning, bat-faced raloog company that served Vuron as the dusins did Demogorgon. With these greater ones of demonkind was the albino lord himself, wielding a Theorpart in counterpoise to that of the enemy, while nearby was the drow named Eclavdra, high priestess and bearer of the Eye of Deception.

Even as the two forces met with a crash and roar, Demogorgon understood the depth of his own folly, from the distortion of time to the drawing forth of his army. Perhaps he did have a horde that greatly outnumbered the one he fought, but Vuron had brought up fresh troops, packed the center, and then drawn Demogorgon into it. Two or three to one was all the superiority he had here, but the Eye of Deception worked unhindered. The Theorparts wielded by him and the sexless albino cancelled each other out, Vastyi countered Mandrillagon, and the flame demons were sufficient to match all of the greater ones who led his force here. Now Palvlag could thrust into his flank from the right, and Nergel from the left, for his own wings were far back and hardly moving. Giant Jaws were about to close on half of Demogorgon's army!

Two heads, two brains have their advantages. Demogorgon used that edge now. While his left continued to grasp and manipulate the flow of energies from the portion of the relic he held, his right sent a command back to the handful of lieutenants still behind. "Every reserve to me in the center, now! Then have the wings charge. Do you hear? Charge!"

"We hear and obey. Great Demogorgon," came a chorus of responses from the ahazu-demons.

Forgetting that, the twin-headed master of demons began a mental search for his ally, Infestix. Perhaps he had managed to extricate his forces from the trap, perhaps not. Only hard fighting over a long period would answer the question. Demogorgon wished to take no such chance, even at the cost of his pride.

Not now, not with the other Theorpart so close! If the wretched, puling daemon could be of use, why not? Infestix had promised much more than he had delivered so far. Let the rotting scum provide what was needed now.

"Lord of Hades. Master of the Pits, Nerull-Death, daemon Infestix," the right brain sent forth the call. "You must come now, now. I have locked the foe into an iron grasp, and they cannot flee." That was true, although it admitted nothing about the reverse. Demogorgon could not escape either from this duel to destruction. "Bring all force available, and the Theorpart of Graz'zt is ours!"

Demons and others of the lower realms shouted and snarled, screamed and howled as they struck and were struck killed and were slain in a terrible melee that soon stretched for miles across the featureless plain on this unnamed tier of the Abyssal microcosm. The two lines swayed back and forth, clotted, thinned, bulged one way or the other. Windrows of dead marked the changing positions. Fluid ran — bloodlike stuff, pale ichor, glowing phlogiston. Weapons glittered with those substances, the ground underfoot became a mire from the liquid. The attackers were decimating their foes, but in turn the forces under Demogorgon's command were being doubly killed. To the right and the left there was a bloody standoff. In the middle portion of the field, the mass of dusins and the other soldiers of the nether planes was being slowly compacted. The two arms were circling, mandibles closing. It was becoming more and more difficult to move within the cauldron there. Then reinforcements pressed in from behind, and the press was too great to manage.

Now the troops that had so proudly marched under the black and green flags began to die in waves of a hundred at a time, and so tightly packed were they that no return blow could be struck Demogorgon had no choice. He turned the force of his Theorpart outward, so that the battalions to either hand could force the jaws back gain fighting room. With his second brain, the great lord of demons sent forth energy to counter the Eye of Deception too, for that instrument was making it impossible for his lieutenants to find and counter the nobles of the enemy, and in the resulting confusion Vuron's powerful ones were slaying the lesser demons, dreggals, and cacodaemons by companies.

The shift he accomplished was so sudden and unexpected that Vuron was caught unawares. By the time the pale demon lord was able to switch the energies of his own artifact to attack Demogorgon personalty, it was too late. The trap had been forced open, and the attackers were able to gain room to defend themselves again. The battle resumed its former character, one of slow and terrible attrition. Vuron's army had inflicted appalling losses upon its foes. Demogorgon's horde now numbered no more than twice the smaller force, and many of his leaders and champions were dead. In the process, Vuron had used the Theorpart he wielded to deal great punishment to his two-headed antagonist.

"You will pay," Demogorgon snarled telepathically as he dampened the albino's attack with the power of his own relic.

"Will I?" Vuron shot back across the wild battleground. "We shall see, little monkey-heads. Soon now there will be none of your soldiers between us, and then I will come for you with my raloogs."

"Shoat! That would be like you. Too weak and sniveling to face me alone!"

"You fled from King Graz'zt, as I recall," Vuron jibed mentally.

"Eat honey!" Demogorgon spat, then returned his attention to matters at hand. He wouldn't be duped easily again by the albino. Even that brief exchange had been too dear. The Eye was working again, and the losses inflicted by it and the enemy troops had reduced his superiority by more than a trifle. At the rate the battle was going, when the enemy army was cut to half its original number, there would be scarcely more troops left in his own force.

If only the dogs like Var-Az-Hloo and Bulumuz hadn't gone over to Orcus! The big-gutted one and Iuz together. … It was Demogorgon's alliance with Infestix that had brought that pairing about. Even demons have loyalty of a sort, and Demogorgon had made common cause with Infestix's force, the hated foes of demonkind, in order to gain parity with Graz'zt. Iuz, Orcus, and the others accused him of selling out the Abyss for the Theorpart. Well, let them! With the one he held, he would gain the second portion, and the two would bring him the last third. Then would Graz'zt be expunged, Orcus annihilated, and Infestix and all the daemons and devils too laid low. Tharizdun arise? Never! He, Demogorgon, would emerge as triumphant lord of darkness — a darkness that would cloak all. "Infestix!" he shouted telepathically.

"The moment is at hand!"

Something was certainly at hand. Leda sensed it. "We have beaten them, I think," she ventured to the nearby albino.

"No. Not quite. Demogorgon is sly and quick, I'll give him that. He managed to slip open the trap, so now the struggle will be long and very costly. We have better fighters, yet his horde is still more numerous. He is attempting something more," Vuron added, "but I can't pierce his screening energies. I can't tell what ploy he works on."

"Our left and right both stand firm. I use the force of the Eye there," Leda informed the albino, "so that the enemy wastes strength against phantoms while our own kill them in droves. We cannot lose now!"

"Can't? The Eye is worth a division, two perhaps. Yet I think you may be right in your assessment. Something impends. Let us trust it is the victory you speak of." He turned a corner of his mind to the others who commanded. "Palvlag. have you any reserve to spare?" The response was negative. The ancient protodemon had every demon committed to the fight on the left. The same reply came from Nergel, who was pressing ahead, grinding down the foe, but had no reserves. "Ah, if our liege only had a little more strength to spare us," Vuron sighed to himself. With a single fresh division he could have shattered Demogorgon's center. But it was not to be. There was a single company in reserve, rutterkin at that.

"Eclavdra," he sent, using the dark elven priestess's known name. "Cease work on the wings. Summon a raloog — any of the flaming ones will do. It will command the company of its fellows there when they follow me as I confront the two-headed one."

Leda looked to where Vuron had indicated. She saw the sneer-visaged rutterkin trying to conceal their fear with blustering and poses of bravery. She almost questioned the albino then, nearly asked if he was mistaken or perhaps losing his mind under the pressure of the dweomers sent by the enemy. Then she understood, for Vuron had preceded his statement by ordering her to stop spending force on the flanks. That meant she was to use the Eye of Deception elsewhere.

"I hear and obey. General," she sent. Then she located a towering raloog, ordered it close, and set her mind on the rutterkin. "Yes, commander?" the sooty demon growled a moment later. Leda nodded toward her right. The raloog saw a force of fifty of its kind standing there, glowering toward the battle. "Take them into the fight," she told the monster. "Stay with Lord General Vuron no matter what, or you shall feel the terror of Graz'zt's displeasure." The raloog nodded, then struck its head in salute. A few moments later Vuron strode forward. His soldiers forced an opening in the enemy front, made an aisle, and the albino strode into the carnage.

Mandrillagon saw him first and sent a warning toward Demogorgon. It was sufficient to cause the great demon prince to quail. Vuron had told him before that he would come with his personal troop of raloogs to fight when the battle was nearly finished. The implication was evident. In fact, Demogorgon's demons and the other troops from the netherspheres shrank back at the sight of the alabaster-fleshed demon lord leading a half-hundred flame-demons forth to fight. Was the contest decided in favor of Graz'zt's dogs, then? If so, Demogorgon would not stay to die with the useless dunghills who had failed him! But no, the time to retire and re-form a new horde was not quite at hand. There was still an interval, still hope.

"Attack them!" the twin-headed demon king ordered, speaking to the demon who commanded the companies of dusins that formed a square around their master. The demon looked pale but did as ordered. As the square, heavy dusins fought the dusky, flame-limned raloogs, Demogorgon shouted loudly, "Come on, Vuron the Lily! Here I am awaiting you personally!"

"I accept!" The reply came clearly and from nearby. Vuron, clad in his silvered battle armor and bearing a long, crystalline spear, was suddenly almost face to face with his challenger. It was daring, for Demogorgon was almost twice as tall and easily four times more massive than the albino. It was the lance that Vuron carried that made him confident that he wasn't merely throwing away his life in accepting single combat with the demon king.

Wherever the crystalline point sunk home a netherbeing expired, but it was not Demogorgon who braved the peril. Even as the albino came forth to do battle, the towering prince of the Abyss was communicating with his chief ally, Infestix, at last. "The moment is passing!" the demon telepathically snarled. "Why aren't you here?"

"Hold fast, brave and clever ruler of demonkind," came the sarcastic reply from Infestix. "I am but seconds away."

"Then the day is ours!" Demogorgon sent back "for I have lured Vuron and his guards into the heart of my own formation, and the stupid fish-belly bears the artifact as he comes."

The boast did not disturb the master of daemons. He was quite familiar with demon claims. It was obvious to Infestix that Vuron was pressing the battle and Demogorgon was losing the fight. That was why Infestix was coming. The lord of the pits had kept close track of the whole confrontation. He had no intention of allowing the dual-headed menace to bungle things and lose the Theorpart that was Infestix's own. Neither did the greatest of daemons intend to allow Demogorgon actually to gain a second portion of the relic of deepest Evil. At a word, the Theorpart the ape-headed being held would desert the demon and send itself to Infestix's hands. A careful harmonic had been built within it to assure that. The portion of the artifact also had within itself the frequency of its fellow Theorpart, the one wielded by the albino demon lord. If the latter was joined to the former, then Infestix could indeed call both portions to himself. The wily emperor of the netherspheres had planned well. He could not compensate for the general incompetence of demons, though. "I am here!" The daemon appeared in his avatar, Nerull, as he spoke; and he stood beside Demogorgon as he did so.

"What?" Demogorgon was startled. Such transferences were not possible in the Abyssal planes, especially when great artifacts of utmost evil power were radiating disruptive dweomers in opposition. Of course, Infestix had used the very powers at play to do so. "How. .?" the demonking began, then switched his tack "Where are your troops? We need force to wrest the thing from the slug's grasp!"

"Never fear, Demogorgon," Nerull-Infestix said casually, watching the dusins die horribly, one after another, as Vuron came ever closer with his deadly, ensorcelled spear. "Help for you is at hand."

"I see none, you. ."

"Faithful and brave ally," Nerull's rasping, wormchoked voice supplied in place of the invective the demon was undoubtedly about to use. "It is about to come with a bang, so to speak. It will surprise the enemy as much as you., ."

The "bang" came a second later. Demogorgon, even forewarned as he was, gave an involuntary start as what sounded like a tremendous thunderclap broke directly overhead and sent rolling echoes along the whole length of the plain. As the sound reverberated in the sky, there appeared the eight Diseased Ones fully arrayed for battle, and with these fearsome daemons were the whole of the plagante, NerullInfestix's horrid elite soldiers. The entire force numbered but a few hundred, but each of the plagante was equal to a greater demon, at least a match for any raloog, for example. Furthermore, the force appeared in the space just behind the position where Demogorgon stood, the place threatened by Vuron's advance. Without need of direction, the Diseased Ones rushed toward the advancing demons, and behind them stormed the plagante. Demogorgon bellowed in triumphant glee at the sight, and not far distant Mandrillagon too picked up the hooting as he observed the sudden turn of events.

The appearance of the daemon elite nearly cost Vuron his existence. The Diseased Ones were upon him as hounds hariy a wolf. The albino managed to ply his long spear just in time. One of the rotting fiends was too slow, or careless, or overconfident The translucent facet of the tlp took the daemon squarely in the throat, and the ranks of Infestix's own had a sudden vacancy. Immediately thereafter, however, the albino demon lord was backing away as quickly as he could while still protecting himself from attack The raloogs clustered near and saved him.

"Very superior, Leda! Fine work!" Vuron of course referred to the dark elven priestess's employment of the power of the Eye of Deception. The rutterkin were now indeed flame-demons for all intents and purposes. The foes thought them thus, and the cringing Jackals themselves seemed to perform as if they were fearless raloogs. "Can you keep it up?"

"Yes," Leda replied mentally, assurance and confidence strongly contained in the thought. "A powerful energy flows through me, and I can wield the instrument as long as needed."

"Do so," Vuron sent back laconically. "The enemy presses me, and to either hand our forces thrust ahead against them. I must not only extricate myself but save Graz'zt's army from certain destruction. The roll of the wheel has placed us beneath its weight." The ability of the drow to continue to use the energy in and channeled by the demoniacal artifact would normally have caused the albino to be wary. Under current circumstances Vuron was merely satisfied that Leda could perform the task without breaking. The Eye of Deception drained those who employed it, unless they somehow garnered power from some outside source while utilizing the thing.

Graz'zt's ploy against his enemies recently was the most clever use of the Eye that Vuron could think of, and the albino was himself quite wise and clever. That he had not envisioned such a trick made Vuron more steadfast in his loyalty to the ebon prince of his kind. Such thoughts as those, rather than questioning the frail female's prowess in so long being able to handle the object, filled that portion of Vuron's mind not occupied with matters at hand.

Attuning the Theorpart to serve as nothing more than a Jamming device and counterpower to that of Demogorgon's, the thin demon lord pried the lance he held to keep the press of the daemons from him. The milky crystal of the spear was filled with deadly energy, for the weapon was one of the sixty-six arms of power belonging to the Abyss. Within the plane's manifold spheres, the lance was potent enough to slay mighty foes with a single thrust. Even beyond, in other netherplanes or elsewhere, Vuron's long spear was a fell force, but in the Abyss itself, wielded by the one it was forged by and for, the thing was of utmost potency. Plagante fell one after another to its leafbladed point as the albino retreated toward his own position step by careful step. The remaining seven of the Diseased Ones were careful to avoid facing Vuron. That enabled him to make good his withdrawal.

The daemon elite did its best to prevent Vuron's escape, trying desperately to encircle him before the albino reached the safety of his lines. It was a close thing, but by dint of his own fighting ability and the work of Leda with the Eye, Vuron managed to slip between the threatening pincers of plagante and into the safety of the files between his defending ranks of demon soldiers.

Vastyi was driving deeply into the horde of Mandrillagon on the left, while Zabulon, a high rakshasa given charge of the right center, was likewise slicing deeply into the mixed force of demons, dreggals, and hordlings opposing his troops there. Immediately upon seeing that Vuron had escaped, Infestix must have brought Demogorgon's attention to the now vulnerable salients to either hand. It was all the albino could manage to effectuate his own retreat The ones on the flanks of his advance paid heavily as the infuriated daemons fell upon them.

So too the make-believe raloogs. Although they seemed to be flame-beings, and their attacks were as effective as those of real sort, the rutterkin were neither as staunch nor sturdy as true raloogs. The attacks of plagante and others cut them down to the last even as Vuron attained safety. Only the one leading the false raloogs, Guicar, survived. He was sorely wounded and near to expiring at that.

After sending urgent commands to Vastyi and Zabulon to pull back, Vuron turned his attention to the raloog. "You are rewarded, one called Guicar," the albino general said hurriedly, touching the bat-faced monster with an alabaster-hued palm. A wave of demoniac energy leaped from Vuron's body into the torn form of the raloog. The creature's soundness was instantly restored, strength returned.

"Great Prince Vuron. the raloog stammered in its growling basso.

"Only Graz'zt is great," Vuron rebuked. "I am merely his general and slave, as you are slave to me!" Then, as the flame-demon attempted to make amends, Vuron tapped him quickly with the Theorpart, silencing the raloog's near-pleadings. "No more. Gain power, grow strong, be hateful. In Graz'zt's name I so bestow the boon. Serve him well."

Then the albino was off to see to his army's safety. and to prepare for a general withdrawal. Vuron knew all too well that the position was now untenable. Demogorgon would be reinforced by fresh, contingents of his own subject demons, drafts of other troops from the spheres obeying Infestix's will. The enemy would receive a hundred thousand new soldiers in but a little space of time, while the best Vuron could hope lor was a dozen companies of minor demons scraped up by press gangs.

It was a tenuous position, but eventually Vuron managed to solidify a bow-shaped line and resist further advances by Demogorgon. The solid protodemon Palvlag, Jittering Nergel, and the eccentric Vastyi seemed to rise above themselves in the face of the impending disaster. Because they lent their own force to that of the albino, things did not collapse.

When the smogs rose and what passed for nighttime on the tier finally came, the enemy withdrew to take up a position facing Vuron's, and the great battle was concluded.

"It is another draw, Lord General," Guicar said with satisfaction. The raloog was now serving as adjutant to Vuron. The relic's power had made the flame-demon stronger than most of his kind, and the status that was thus accorded to Guicar by other raloogs fed yet more energy to him. Selection of officers was a simple matter in demon forces. The strongest, cleverest, slyest, most awful and malign naturally rose to command. Only nobles would not show respect for the raloog now. "Will you take the fight to them again tomorrow?"

"No, Lieutenant," Vuron said, wondering if all those who had observed the contest had so mistaken an impression of the results. "I will soon order the whole army to march away, toward the stronghold of our king. You will see to it that all troops under your command are silent, orderly, and swift when the time to leave this field comes."

"Ah. . Yes, Lord General Vuron," the raloog rumbled with an expression of delight playing across his bat-faced countenance. "You will again dupe those petty morsels into another trap!"

"Ahemmm. . Something like that. Lieutenant Guicar. Now see to your charges. There is much to do." The flame-demon stalked off, satisfied of the strength of his lord, the ultimate surety of victory evident in his mind. Vuron knew that would be conveyed to the others of his ilk, and to the thousands of lesser demons in the horde as well. That was all to the benefit. Now, what of the long term?

He would ask permission of Graz'zt to take up a new position that meshed with the whole of the ebon demonking's sphere of defense. That way they would be on interior lines. The two forces that sought to destroy Graz'zt's empire, take the Theorpart, and probably annihilate the great demon in the bargain, were uneasy allies at best. With a globe around his realm, the ability to shift troops, move rapidly, wield magicks in defense, they would be made less friendly to one another. Each of the foes wished the artifact for a different purpose. Demon could be set against daemon, cacodaemon against dreggal. Perhaps Vuron could even engineer a falling-out between Orcus and Iuz, for the ram-faced blob surely hated the cambion with almost the same fervor as Orcus despised Demogorgon. All that was for the future. Now it was necessary to gain a defensive position that would serve as a strong place, and step towards consolidation with the rest of his king's forces as well. It was time to bring Graz'zt a full report, so that the great ebon monarch could make intelligent decisions — and the ideas fed to him by his most loyal vassal, general, and servant must be in that category. In that regard Leda, too, must have knowledge and think correctly. Her influence added to his would make things almost a certainty.

"Leda, you must return to our liege and bring him my report."

"Of course, Vuron. When should I depart?"

"As soon as possible. Take the Eye of Deception with you. It assures your safe and swift passage. More importantly, our king will need it soon, I fear. When Iuz and his cohorts get word of what has happened here, they will surely begin attacking again."

The dark elf was puzzled by that statement. "Why, Vuron? We dealt the foes a cruel blow here, and our losses were paltry compared to those of Demogorgon's."

"The ape-heads will leak out misleading figures. Our casualties will be half a million rather than fifty thousand, and our reinforcements will be overstated by a like factor — regiments for companies, corps for brigades. Infestix too will assist in that for many reasons, not the least of which is his worm-fat pride. Two of his Diseased Ones were skewered by my lance, and he and his puppet demons lost a quarter of a million soldiers."

Leda understood. "If Iuz begins attacking, there will be no more reinforcements of any kind for this front then. Demogorgon will not have to face another situation like this again. Our force can be worn down, eroded, and finally beaten by sheer weight. . "

Vuron nodded and gave Leda a little bow. "Very astute, priestess — as should be for one favored by Graz'zt Explain all of that to him when he has received my report. I urge a contiguous line of defense, so that we will have interior lines. That way a reserve can be created as a central pool. Wherever the enemy strikes, the reserve can be moved to counter the threat. With but a quarter of the enemy's strength we can thus hold out for a nearly indefinite time."

"That seems reasonable, General," Leda agreed with hesitation, "but is there no way to assume a winning position?"

That brought the albino into a tense attitude, and his pale, red-pink eyes fixed with a lambent fire upon the small drow. "What is that you ask?" Leda squared her little shoulders and made a reply, but Vuron didn't pay attention. He was deep inside himself assessing his statements and hers too, all that had occurred.

"Never mind," he told Leda, more to silence her than for any other reason. He had articulated to her what he had kept inside himself as a secret that must never be uttered, especially to Graz'zt or any who spoke directly to the ebon monarch. For a long time now it had been all too apparent to Vuron that there was no real hope. The three portions of the ancient artifact the key to Tharizdun's prison, would never cease their active operation to unite. All were at work in the Abyss. Graz'zt held one, so the ones possessed by others — demon, daemon, even devil, no matter — would strive to be brought together by it. Fickleness would have no part in the eventuality. Demon alliances could break apart and re-form, invaders could be cut down, and still the relics would gravitate toward one another.

For now, two strove against one. Was there hope of gaining a second Theorpart? Could the balance be shifted in Graz'zt's favor then? Vuron was certain that both answers were no. "He is doomed by it now, and it is I who forged that doom," the pale demon whispered aloud.

"Pardon, my Lord? I didn't hear you."

"Nothing, Leda," Vuron said briskly. "I merely spoke thoughts aloud. . We sometimes place greater measures of independence upon ourselves than actually exist, you know. How greatly do we overestimate our own strength and meaning? Is it in the same magnitude? Greater by far, I think" Vuron gazed down at the perfect, sable-hued face of the elf. Its color was so like that of his king's. He had sought only to serve Graz'zt for eternity…

"Time is fleeting. Lord Vuron," Leda finally said, growing uncomfortable under the demon's glassy stare.

"Time? So too power, renown, and all glory within the cosmos," the albino said with a snarl. "That is of no matter at this moment. As I said, we must have interior lines so that we can defend successfully until the unnatural alliances formed against us break from their own disparate natures. Soon enough new allies will come to serve Graz'zt, and the interloping dogs from Hades and the other netherspheres will be chased back to their kennels." Vuron hoped that those words would remain foremost in her mind when Leda reported to the demon king. "Here is my written account of the battle, my assessment of the situation, and plans for what we must do. It is a primitive way to communicate, but the enemy can't eavesdrop on such."

Leda took the thick box of leather and metal, a container covered with runes and sealed fast with black wax bearing Vuron's mark "I will give it directly into the hands of our liege immediately. Lord General."

"Guard it with your life! Don't hesitate to utilize the Eye to protect it."

With a bow, then a formal salute, the dark elf withdrew. "It should not be necessary, Vuron," Leda said just before she departed. "I intend to take the fastest route to the palace, so there will be few likely to be encountered along the way. Before the smogs rise here again, Graz'zt will have your intelligence in his hands."

Vuron nodded, and she left with quick steps. Only after Leda was gone did he think to ask her about how she felt. The albino recalled that when he looked at Leda's face, she had seemed fresh, lovely. Her countenance should have been drawn and haggard. The strain of using the Eye should have left its mark thus. Did she possess some witchery that enabled the drow priestess to resist even so great a thing as the Eye of Deception? If so, then it was time for him to get rid of her. After all, Vuron had decided to create Leda in counter to Eclavdra, for that one's influence had been too strong and too much directed toward her own glorification. Leda's twin would have not hesitated to lessen Graz'zt in order to make herself greater. Now there was a possibility that her clone had even greater spiritual strength and inner power than Eclavdra had possessed. Should that be true, and should Leda decide to employ her energy in a way that Vuron didn't direct, then she might actually displace him. That was something the demonlord hadn't considered since Leda came into being; Leda as such, rather than what she had been prior, a mere duplicate of Eclavdra. The original dark elven high priestess wouldn't have hesitated to work any mischief in order to gain advantage. Was Leda far from that?

As soon as possible he would set matters right in that regard, Vuron vowed silently. First the withdrawal to a new defensive line, then the machinations to destroy Leda's influence. . perhaps Leda.