Dance of Demons

Chapter 7

The soulless sounding pierced the very heart of iyondagur, to the place where the ruler of the realm dwelled. When Leda informed him and Gellor of what the Abat-dolor were, what their heritage was, Gord didn't hesitate longer. Taking the dark elfs arm and motioning to Gellor, the young champion stepped out of the channel and onto the tier of the ebon race of humanlike demons. "I will take the lead in any discourse," Gord told his companions. "Follow what I say — especially you, my love. These demons will know who you are, I think."

"Oh yes, that they will," Leda confirmed. "Elazalag holds great enmity for my. . King Graz'zt."

Gord shrugged, then smiled thinly. "So much the better, I think." They emerged from the distorted passage just then and found themselves squarely in the middle of a great plaza. "And what is this?" he asked Leda as he peered around at the frowning facades of hewn stone blocks that hedged the irregularly shaped area. -

"This is the outer courtyard of Elazalag" s fortress, Gord. The Sounding conveys only important visitors or great foes to iyondagur. The leader of the Abatdolor clans desires to welcome either properly."

"I see the committee of greetings," Gellor noted dryly as squads of obsidian-skinned demons suddenly sprang into view along the parapets that topped the walls of the square.

The Abat-dolor much resembled humankind, or drow, although these demons were taller than elves or men. It was difficult to tell at a distance, but Gord estimated that each of the guards was seven or eight feet tall. The metallic sheen of polished red bronze highlighted each indIvidual soldier around the battlements. Helm, cuirass, and a full panoply of plate armor bedecked each of these warriors of the Abyss. Most were armed as would be human soldiers, with swords, spears, and thick-stocked arbalests. Some, though, were manning dark tubes, things that they swiveled to point at the three intruders in their midst, while others of these cylinders were being aimed at the air above them.

"The guards will not attack until ordered," Leda assured her companions, noting the worried looks both men wore as they observed the warlike preparations surrounding them.

"What manner of arms are those long pipes?" the bard asked.

"Weapons of great potency and last resort," Leda supplied. "Those tubes discharge things taken from the antisphere. Gaining such material is dangerous and costly, so Elazalag herself will order the release, and then only in extremis. The stuff is deadly. If we are caught by a stream of it, we will be destroyed in a great implosion as the negative stuff drains us away to nothingness."

Gord was as interested in her statement about the ruler of iyondagur being female as he was in Leda's explanation of the powers of the tubes. Before he could inquire further, though, there was a booming noise as if iron rods were being pounded on a hollow floor of wood, and immediately thereafter came a raucous hooting as if multitoned horns of deep timbre and high tone were sounded, en masse, and by the lungs of giants. The very stones shook at the blasts, and thinking was near impossible. No sound could be heard above the noise. Then a deeper grumbling roar managed to penetrate the horns' cacophony. Gord turned and saw a massive portcullis being raised simultaneously with the lowering of what could only be a solid stone drawbridge.

"These demons are most rapid in their preparations," Gellor said. His voice sounded loudly in the now still square. "And now comes the herald!"

Through the opening in the walls around them rode a massive Abat-dolor. He was astride a demonbeast, a parody of a horse, a steed with eight thick legs and with a muzzle spiked as that of a black rhinoceros. "I thought the hippokeres was a savage monster. . " Gord said in uncertain voice.

"That it is," Leda replied. "Even these demons are able to capture and tame but a few of the smaller of their sort. They are demon-beasts which inhabit the tiers lower down."

"And the rider?"

"Elazalag" s herald and chief warrior, the Lord Nisroch, Gord. They are uncertain of who and what we are, I see," she added in a near-whisper. "The Nine Chevaliers accompany Nisroch. and the great chariot behind them bears Princess Elazalag herself." She was about to say something further, but the stentorian bellow of the demon-herald's voice cut Leda short.

"Upon your bellies in fear of lethal Elazalag and her rage!" commanded the bellowing herald. Gellor inclined his upper body a fraction. Leda smiled as she cast her head slightly downward, as if to conceal her mirth. Gord stood absolutely still. Nisroch seemed not to notice the failure on the part of all three to obey. Instead the big demon went on with his bellowing. "Helpless sacrifices to our ruler's displeasure, you have the space of a hundred beats of your heart to state your last words. You, drow bitch who yaps at Graz'zt's heels! Cry out why you give yourself and the lives of the human and. ." The herald trailed off for but a split-second, confused at what to call Gord. He was quick to pick up again, saying". . the little cockroach trembling behind a mask of dweomers."

Before Leda could respond in any fashion, Gord strode one pace forward. "I, cockroach though I am, speak for all three here." There was mockery in his tone, a Jape at the vaunted herald of the princess of the Abat-dolor for his obvious inability to discern Just who and what Gord was. "You address my associates as Lord and Lady, demon, and 'Sir' will suffice for me. We have come to offer you the opportunity of defeating your foes."

As if that were a cue, the spike-encrusted chariot of black adamantite came up with a rumble and a clank the three monstrous hippokeres drawing it snarling and snorting as the iron chains that controlled them were yanked back to force star-pointed bits into the beasts' metal-hard mouths. Riding alone in the vehicle was a smaller, elegantly armored female Abat-dolor, quite beautiful as far as Gord could tell, what with the coif of dark chainmail and adamantite helmet shielding much of the demon princess's face from view, just as the hard plates of that metal hid her form. She was smaller than the herald or the guards, but still the demoness was fully seven feet tall, and her voice sounded nearly as loud as that of Nisroch. "Liar and spy! I claim your life for my own!" The contralto voice of Elazalag rang out over the hushed space.

Gord never flinched as the demoness's arm swung forward, and the chain-borne star of wickedly sharp hooks lashed down at him with deadly speed and force. Some inner sense told him that this was no real threat. The shadow armor took the force of the adamantite chain and curved knives, deflecting and absorbing the blow. It was as if nothing had struck him, nothing at all. There was a gasp from Leda; Gellor grunted, and then a susurration of similar sounds of amazement came from the encircling demons.

"I am no liar, no spy," said Gord evenly, "and I can help you vanquish the enemy now invading this place as easily as my armor turned away your mighty blow. Mistress of the Abat-dolor."

There was a basso curse from Nisroch and the sound of weapons being drawn as herald and demon knights unsheathed their blades. There was no doubt that the small fellow's bland statement and calm were insults of the most heinous sort, and they would teach the outlander — human or otherwise — what it meant to denigrate the greatest of demon races! Elazalag herself stopped them from such folly. "Hold, Nisroch! Cease, guards! Are you boorixtroi? This is not an opponent for such as you to face," the demoness added as she stared hard at Gord. "Withdraw to the gate," Elazalag commanded. "I will remain alone to treat with these strangers."

Nisroch's eyes burned with green fire as he hesitated, glaring at the three interlopers. The demon was obviously shamed and humiliated. The nine great Chevaliers of the Abat-dolor court likewise hesitated, knotting closely behind the herald. Then the warriors saw their princess's own anger. It was directed at them. Nisroch dropped his gaze, bowed, and turned his mount. For a minute, normal speech was impossible over the thunder of the hippokeres' iron hooves as their riders spurred them back to the gateway.

"Very wise, ruler of the Abat-dolor," Gord said when the din had subsided. He had not taken his own eyes from the tall demoness. "One thing more, though, Princess Elazalag. Please don't try to spray us with discharges of negativity from your black tubes surrounding us. It won't work, and I would then have to exact revenge."

"Just who and what are you?" the six-fingered demoness asked. "That you know the nature of our defenses is unremarkable. Graz'zt's little drow has certainty informed you of such. But you are not right, somehow — neither man nor demon, despite the aura of dark chaos which enwraps you."

"Does it really matter who I am. If I can aid the Abat-dolor in retaining their land and freedom and lives?" Gord said. He expected no answer, and the young champion of Balance waited, for none. "I care nothing for you and your kind, of course. The enemy who threatens you happens to be my foe, too. I plan to destroy that enemy's power, and in the process your precious iyondagur will be cleansed of invaders. You will continue to rule, and my companions and I will be gone."

"Run back to the dungheap's stronghold, perhaps? Or do you seek to cozen me into some trap?" Elazalag shot back "It was just brought to my attention that my realm has been invaded. You three, then, must either be agents of Graz'zt or of the invaders. Either case is sufficient to condemn you to whatever slow death I can devise!"

"Please come here, Lady Leda," Gord said with a clear voice, still keeping his eyes fixed on the demoness. The dark elf stepped beside him hesitantly. "Thank you," Gord said, turning and flashing a warm smile at Leda. "Please be so kind as to display to the princess of the Abat-dolor what it is you hold ready."

For a moment Leda wanted to run away. To do that she would have to use the Eye first, however. Play its forces upon Gord and the rotten Elazalag. then utilize its power to move from the courtyard back to the Soulless Sounding. This object was Graz'zt's by all rights, and neither Gord nor the demon princess could claim otherwise. While such thoughts flashed through her mind, Leda stepped another pace forward, so that she stood just slightly ahead of the gray-eyed man clad in shadow armor and elfin mail.

As she drew the Eye of Deception from its enchanted covering, dark energies seemed to play back and forth between the smoke-colored sphere and the pommel of Courflamme, sheathed at Gord's left hip and near to Leda. Ignoring her own thoughts and desires, heedless of the forces that darted round, the drow priestess lifted the sphere with her right hand. presenting its pupil-like spot to Elazalag, allowing the demoness ruler of the Abat-dolor to view the fell thing from the most undesirable perspective — its business end, as it were. Then Leda spoke without direction from Gord or permission from this royal demoness.

"This, Elazalag of the Abat-dolor, Is just what it seems. I hold the Eye of Deception."

The demon princess's face paled to ashen hue upon seeing the glowing pupil of the thing. Elazalag knew all too well what terrible powers the wielder of the device could loose. "You may encase it again. . Lady Eclavdra." The noble Abat-dolor managed to remain outwardly calm despite the very real threat — which she read in the draw's eyes, not in the greatest artifact of demon-power known to the Abyss. "Has your master sent you here to slay me? Or to serve against the incursions of my foes — and his?"

It was Gord who interjected before Leda could make any reply. "The lady does not serve Graz'zt any longer. Neither do I or my other companion, of course. We three are as one in serving a greater master. I tell you freely and openly, that cause is one which you and all of your demonfolk will gladly embrace, too."

"Really?" Elazalag sneered, her beautiful features distorting into true demoniacal form as she did so. The transformation was brief, but it helped remind Gord of what he faced. "Now I know you for a double liar, mankin. Despite the wildness of evils which enwraps you, I deem you an agent of the Hells and a friend of daemons!"

"And if you receive from me the Eye of Deception?"

Leda gasped aloud at Gord's words. Never would she permit this demoness to hold the Eye — not even if her love commanded it! As she was about to renounce such a thing he touched her shoulder, lightly, with a loving caress as would a man giving comfort to his own mate. Leda found herself unable to voice a protest, and then the wash of tenderness from Gord's touch flowed down her body, and for a moment she forgot the thought of it.

Elazalag's face stiffened into an unreadable mask. She stretched forth her hand from her platform. "Give me the thing, and then I will consider your words," she said without inflection.

"Not quite so easily or quickly," Gord countered. "There is only scant time for discourse, but I fear we must spend precious minutes doing so, you and I. It would be appropriate to invite us all into your castle immediately, so that we can arrange the details of the bargain."

"Bargain?"

"Yes. A bargain. Princess Elazalag. You and your Abat-dolor will accompany the three of us against the invaders. I will defeat their chief lords, strip them of their power. Thereafter I will reward you for your assistance in the matter with the gift of the Eye of Deception." As he told that to the tall demoness, Gord had shifted his position slightly, unnoticeably. At the last word he suddenly drew forth Courflamme. It was a motion too fast for even a demon's eye to follow. To the onlooking guards and soldiers it appeared only as if he drew and held the weapon forth before him as if in offering it to their ruler. In actuality, Gord touched Elazalag's open hand with the flat of Courflamme's blade in the process.

The contact with the strange blade of mixed crystal and jet sent a jolt into the demon princess's brain. freezing her for a split-second, then warming her much as Gord's touch had quelled the rebellion within Leda. It also brought Elazalag knowledge. Before her was one now eternal, a warrior once human, now one who fought against whatever forces might upset the balance of the multiverse. Implacable foe, unyielding Judge, indomitable in pursuit of his cause. All were true, and true as well were his words regarding the bargain. He cared naught for the Eye of Deception, not if his first opponents — and the deadly enemies of her and her demonfolk — were dealt with as he would have them done.

The sword, his weapon, was an instrument of power whose potential far outweighed the force of the Abyssal artifact he offered. For a moment Elazalag considered gaining the blade as well, then dismissed the idea. One touch told her that it was not a weapon that any demon could trust. The thing would turn, drink her energy, and serve only Balance. "Come into my chariot," the demoness said with a gesture indicating all three. "You are my guests for a brief stay — very brief! My council will already be there when we arrive."

A handful of male and female Abat-dolor were awaiting them in a large, high-vaulted chamber, just as Elazalag had stated. Nisroch was there, for he was both herald and thegn of the demon clans. Only three of the other lords of the Abat-dolor's nine clans were there, along with one lady chieftainess and a female named Mycortte, both chamberlain and vice-princess, it seemed, the one who ruled in Elazalag's name when the leader of the iyondagur's nine regions was away. Gord was surprised at such trust, but it was nothing he tarried upon. Too many other matters pressed. He had to listen to a series of tirades against all the rest of the netherworld, demonkind, and Graz'zt. The last was the principal target the great demonking whose realm had been vast, but to whom these folk had never bowed. Yes, he was of their race, but. .

Once, it seemed, the lands held by the Abat-dolor had included both iyondagur and Mezzafgraduun, now the demesne of Graz'zt; thus, the contiguity between the seemingly widely separated three hundred and ninety-ninth tier and the great three hundred and sixty-sixth stratum. The joint realm was ruled by Graz'zt and Elazalag, his consort. Thirteen clans of the Abat-dolor dwelled on the two layers of the diverse realm, and many other sorts of demonkind were subject to the two rulers.

Then somehow the ancient of witches, Iggwilv, entered the Abyss, came to Graz'zt in his palace on Mezzafgraduun, and soon won favor with the demonking. By wiles and deceit Iggwilv separated him from Elazalag, the clans of Abat-dolor from their union. The ambitions of the ebon demonking and his attitudes alienated all but four of the clans from him, but there were many ambitious nobles of other races flocking around Graz'zt and the powerful witch; many sorts of lesser demon races to subjugate, enlist, enslave.

Soon Graz'zt was waging a great battle against the mightiest of the other demonkings, expanding his lands and dreaming of a vast empire. Iggwilv too had great aspirations, and the witch duped Graz'zt into a position which cost the demon much.

In the course of all that, a time covering a score or more decades, the enmity and dispute between Elazalag and the majority of the Abat-dolor versus Graz'zt and his empire of mongrel sort deepened and became one of open hostility. Upon the humiliation of Graz'zt and his forced confinement to his own realm in the Abyss, Elazalag had attempted to mend the rift; she claimed before Gord and his two companions that she had been willing to sacrifice her personal feelings for the betterment of the Abat-dolor. The young champion doubted that, thinking that the demoness thought to use the situation to increase her own stature while Graz'zt was down. He said nothing, of course.

Vuron was named as a culprit, too, by the assembled demons who ruled iyondagur. His machinations, personal ambitions, and hatred for Elazalag kept Graz'zt from reuniting the clans and territories of the Abat-dolor. Because Leda (whom these demons called Eclavdra because they knew nothing of the battle between the drow and her clone, and of the defeat of Eclavdra by the twin, Leda) was a confidant and advisor of the ebon demonking, and because Vuron's favor of her was well known by them, the princess demanded that Leda be held as hostage until the Eye of Deception was in Elazalag's hands.

"You are as false as any of your ilk" Gord answered with a ring of steel in his voice after that demand. "Your lie, your plan too, are as open to me as a sheet of parchment laid on this table before me." Elazalag snapped her mind closed at that, but Gord used his own mental force to prize open the demoness's thought barriers, trampling them down and stalking where he would in her brain. "You see? No thought of yours, no hidden motive of any of you, is not subject to my scrutiny and understanding."

Leda couldn't restrain herself upon hearing that. "What did the vile whore intend for me, Gord?"

"The great and noble princess of the Abat-dolor would confine you, gain the Eye, and then force Graz'zt here to her. To regain any of the evil artifact's powers again, Elazalag planned to have him torture you to death as slowly as possible."

"That.. that-"

"No matter. Her plans are changed. What was considered is of no import now," Gord told the dark elf firmly. "Now, Princess, I will tell you what you and your subjects must do in order to gain the Eye of Deception. Remember, I care nothing about Graz'zt, your disputes, or the Abat-dolor. If I fall, your foes will have the Eye and the sword I bear., plus the relic they plan to destroy all of you with, unless you become their slaves forever. If I succeed, your domain is again firmly in your grasp, and one way or another Graz'zt will be stripped of his relic soon thereafter, too. Then, noble Elazalag, the fate of him and the whole of your kind will rest squarely with you."

"I attend your words with utmost diligence, and so do all my faithful vassals," the demoness added, then swept a meaningful glare over those of her subjects who were present.

Gord stated exactly what was to be done. The foes here were relatively few in number, relying on the power of the Theorpart they bore to win through. No more than about one hundred thousand demons and triple that number of other netherbeings now tramped across the lands of iyondagur.

"The bulk of the horde which now threatens your realm, Elazalag, Is composed of daemons and cacodaemons, and all the force is led by their tyrant,

Infestix."

"Just how do you happen to know all this?" The demand was boomed by Nisroch.

That was something Leda was wondering as well. Subjective time in passage through the Soulless Sounding was distorted, so that what seemed an hour or two was a full day. That meant that she had been away from Vuron and the army he commanded for no more than two or three days, measured by Oerth standards. And Gord had been in the Sounding at the same time — so how could he know what had transpired during that time?

As the demon princess and all of her Abat-dolor council peered intently at the young champion, awaiting his response to the query, Leda interjected, "It is passing strange, Gord, that so much is known to you. . " The sudden shift in position of Elazalag, the electric shock that seemed to be transmitted to the demons, brought a flush to the dark elven priestess. Immediately, she knew she should not have used Gord's name. "Oh!" Leda exclaimed. "I didn't mean to. ." And then she fell silent, for any further words would simply compound her error.

"It is nothing," Gord said, not bothering to attempt a lengthy discussion of the matter. "My identity is no great secret, and soon enough it will be known far and wide throughout the sphere anyway."

"The slayer of demons!" hissed Mycortte. "He is in our hands!"

"Really?" The question came from Elazalag, and it brimmed with ironic mockery. Nisroch the herald bellowed laughter, and its tone underscored his princess's derision. "Cease!" Elazalag commanded. The demons fell silent.

"So, Gord of Cats, Player in Shadows, Elect of Balance — now I begin to understand. Even here in these backwaters of the Abyss we have heard of you and know of your purpose. Marked, you are, by every being in all the netherspheres."

"Not by demonkind."

"Not especially, no. None of the dwellers here care to be yoked by the shackled one. . yet each lord here lusts after the powers of the Theorparts. I would have one — all!"

Gord shook his head. "Would you, demoness? Then would you be marked for turmoil and destruction far more than I. Graz'zt has one and his whole realm is under siege, its king noar to losing all. Demogorgon held one for a brief time, and then the daemon master he must now serve took it. Iuz thinks he possesses a Theorpart — and so do Iggwilv, Zuggtmoy, and her brother Szhublox. Think on that," and Gord paused a moment to allow his words to sink in, be assessed by Elazalag. "Do you know I held one once and gave it over?"

"Yes," the demoness responded with a harsh hiss. "I know Vuron's part in that — and hers, too!" she spat, glaring at Leda.

"Blame me, or better still place no blame at all. That was written, I think long before any of us knew. Because I am now who I am, much is known to me that is hidden from you. Everything that concerns the three parts of the elder artifact, the lives and actions of those who would wield them. Is apparent to my mind."

"How can that be?" Nisroch demanded. The big demon was incredulous.

"How is it that I am known? Your fellow Abat-dolor there, Mycortte, recognized who I am when she heard my name, calling me by the epithet the slayer of demons'. True, I have ended the existence of many from the Abyss; but I have no particular vendetta against your sort. Most of demonkind merely cries out to be destroyed." His tone was so hard, the words so laden with menace, that all save the princess herself recoiled from the small man. Nisroch pulled back with a growl. Even Elazalag straightened in her big chair.

"I am known because there is a rede which says that when the Ultimate Darkness threatens, one will be there to fight against it. Now, because I have risen to become that champion, all who seek to bring the curse upon the multiverse search for me. Scrying and spell, crystal-gazing and slinking spy, augury and divination are aimed toward me. Small and great are the wards which are there to prevent that, yet these protections have been inadequate. That is no matter. What must be done will be done, and 1 think none can stop me until Tharizdun stands before me." As he said that, the atmosphere in the demon princess's chamber seemed to darken, become palpably threatening. Gord ignored it and went on.

"I am no judge of demonkind, yet it seems that as a race the Abat-dolor are more civilized, more like humankind, perhaps — and I mean that as no insult or belittlement," the young thief added with a small chuckle. That act seemed to break the tension among the demons, and a few actually laughed. "If united, your kind would be a true force in this sphere, and perhaps there have been those who labored clandestinely to prevent such a thing happening. I don't know. My mental foreknowledge and prescience tells me this: Infestix brings his Theorpart here to iyondagur in a decisive thrust against Graz'zt. He, the master of Hades, desires to enlist your war bands rather than contest with them. Thus reinforced, his horde will march upon Mezzafgraduun. Even now he comes toward this place, while the bulk of his forces, the hordes of Demogorgon and Mandrillagon, reinforced by a million or more conscripts from the netherspheres bowing to Infestix, throw themselves in waves upon Vuron's defense."

"We care nothing for Graz'zt!" The angry retort came from Nisroch.

"It is evident that you are shortsighted, then," Gord countered, looking squarely at Elazalag as he spoke. "Do you want to serve the ape-headed ones? Bow to a daemon overlord? Become pawns of Tharizdun?"

"No, never," the demoness said in reply. There was force but no anger in the rejection. "It would serve my kind well if Graz'zt regained his senses too, became my co-ruler again …"

So, Gord thought with satisfaction, this demon princess actually has emotions not dissimilar to human ones. Elazalag cared for the demon king — as a being or as a sign of power and authority, what matter? The term "love" covered many thoughts, emotions, desires. "Then gather the warbands of the Abat-dolor now! We will confront the invaders."

"Only a half-dozen of the clans can get their forces here," Elazalag said. "The other three are already cut off and are of no use."

"No matter, Princess," Gord told the demoness. "All that is needed is a show of force sufficient to cause the invaders to concentrate their mass, and for Infestix to stay with the Theorpart to assure the quick victory of his hordes over the puny force of Abat-dolor daring to resist the will of Hades."

"Hades?" spat the Herald. "It is a garden, a sweetsmelling oasis filled with delicate — "

"Enough, Nisroch," commanded Elazalag. "All of us are aware of your disdain for the enemy, and we have better things to do than listen to expletives. So, Champion of Balance, what can a few thousand of my subjects do save die uselessly?"

"I think you can field more than a few thousand warriors," Gord responded. "You and your warbands will accompany us as we go to face the foe. Their soldiers will come against you, and the Abat-dolor must defend themselves, fight valiantly for some time — an hour, perhaps. During that time we will strike into the heart of the invaders' position, seek out the daemon who commands them, and wrest from him the relic he wields against you, the Abyss, and all the multiverse."

"And the Eye of Deception?"

"That, Princess, will be safe in Lady. . Eclavdra's hands. It will be what enables us to penetrate to where Infestix lurks."

"Never was that object meant to counter such power as is within Initiator," Elazalag said with doubt in her deep, contralto voice.

It was Leda's turn to speak up. "Pardon, great Princess," the dark elf said with firmness, "but you do not take into account the might of the dweomers contained in the champion's sword. I have used the force of the Eye to try to examine the blade, and it is strong! So strong that the Eye cannot pierce its veil, gain any understanding of it."

"Then how. .?"

"It is as the Theorparts, Princess, and I have had time and reason to attempt the Eye's scrutiny upon Unbinder in the past. The weapon is the equal of any Theorpart. . more than a match, perhaps. If the Eye of Deception is added to the weight of it, then Infestix is at a disadvantage."

"My warriors," the demoness said, looking at Gord again. "What will become of them?"

"How many can you field?"

"Perhaps fifty thousand or so from the six clans nearby — there is no time to round up all the outlying rovers, or there would be double that force. My own soldiers and guards constitute but a division, about twenty thousand."

Gord nodded with conviction. "Ample for our purposes, I assure you! It is not to be a protracted engagement, Elazalag. It is only necessary to make the daemon stand and fight for a little time. We will scythe through the so-called Lord of Death's ranks as if they were ripe stalks of wheat, pluck his fangs — the Theorpart — and leave him and his hordes to run howling in terror back whence they came."

"That is a pleasing thought," Nisroch growled. "The great daemon can flee safely back to his nest, of course; but the rest of his army will not have such a luxury. ."

"Lord Gellor," Gord suggested, "Is the one to assist you with the disposition of your forces."

"That is so," the grizzled bard affirmed. "I have fought many such battles, albeit with slightly different sorts of troops." Even Nisroch chuckled at that. "Whilst you gather the warbands, let us examine maps of iyondagur to find the best ground to confront the invaders. They will be marching here, hoping to gam your surrender, conscript your Abat-dolor soldiers, and then thrust into Mezzafgraduun as a sword's point slides into the heart of a foe. Now, Princess Elazalag, I think the best position is likely to be near to your own. ." And so Gellor went on, as the ebon-hued demons rushed to bring together their forces to face the invading horde led by the master daemon.