Come Endless Darkness

Chapter 2

The Flanaess shook to the tread of marching armies. The land writhed under the lash of fire and sword, spell and conjured monster, as its creatures fled the bellow of iron horns and the boom of thundering drums. The hordes of the cambion Iuz were on the move, and their advance was as inexorable as the march of time.

The attack had begun abruptly, without warning. The masses of humanoids from the land of Iuz had swarmed forth to bring death and destruction to all who opposed the cambion. Their massing had been veiled by the great powers of Iggwilv, the mother of all black witches, and the demon queen Zuggtmoy. The two of them and Iuz controlled the evil magic of the Initiator, the middle portion of the Theorpart, one of the keys to the loosing of all wickedness, and they used it well.

The Vesve Forest was taken; then the lands beyond its western verge, all the way south to the Velverdyva River, fell to the invaders. From forest and mountains came swarms of evil creatures to join the victorious forces of the cambion. The great walls and men of the city of Chendl barred the advance into Furyondy's heartland, but the northern part of that kingdom was gone, and grinning orcs and slobbering gnolls roamed freely north of the Crystal River.

Legions of troops swept through the Horned Society, the lands that had formerly bowed to the Hierarchs, and into the Shield Lands. Not even the vaunted Knights of the Shield could prevail against the forces of Iuz, and the survivors among that number huddled on their fortress island in the Nyr Dyv, praying that the waters of that lake would protect them.

Far to the east the story was much the same. The haughty men of Tenh died bravely in defense of their country, but they died in vain, for bandits, mercenaries, and the newly allied warbands from the Barrens rode across the sovereign ducal state in mere weeks. Trolls from the fens and ogres and giants from the high mountains Joined in their destruction of that land.

Thereafter all of the north bowed fully to the cambion. Fierce horse nomads rode beneath the wolf-head standard to threaten their southern neighbor, while those who followed the great tiger banner made war in Iuz's vile name farther to the west. Fierce men of the Hold of Stonefist marched south to join the humanoids and the army of bandits threatening the Theocracy of the Pale. The demon armies held bridgeheads that were like swords poised above Urnst, stabbing Furyondy's flank, and the elven state of Highfolk.

The Flanaess reeled, and councils met. How could such a thing have occurred? What defense or counterattack could be made? Then the armies of the Great Kingdom in the south, and the Scarlet Brotherhood's disciplined regiments too, attacked northward. All thought of a counter of Tensive was hurled to the winds. Nyrond, its friends and allies, and the few other unconquered free states of the Flanaess knew that their survival now stood in question. The evil that served devils advanced northward in counter point to the demon-serving hordes that rolled south. All good was caught between these two, and there was growing despair in the land.

The evil of the south was weak. Its greatest force, the Theorpart known as the Awakener, was no longer In their hands. Its might had been requisitioned by the Dukes of Hell, and there is no recourse to their demands. The evil of the north, that of witch, demon and cambion demigod, was great, for the malign strength of the Initiator was theirs to use. The Final Key, the Unbinder, was held by the lords of the Abyss, and so while the denizens of the hells used one portion of the evil relic to fight against the demon hosts that threatened them on otherworldly planes, Iuz was free to use his own Theorpart to crush all who dared oppose his will.

While men and demihumans and humanolds made war in and on the Flanaess, all of the netherworld likewise fought in that domain. The albino demon lord Vuron led the demons' attack upon those who would wrest the Theorpart from his liege, Graz'zt. His genius was great, and the swarming demon creatures who obeyed Vuron's commands overran their foes time after time. Up from the unspeakable depths of the Abyss swarmed more and more demons eager to serve. More and more of the lords of the Abyss named Graz'zt as monarch of their foul plane. Only the mightiest of the princes — Zortolagon, Orcus, Mandrillagon, and Ushablator the Chaos Horror — remained opposed to the new king. Of course they fought each other as well as Graz'zt, so although those who refused fealty commanded fully half of all demoniacal power, their own factiousness made them Impotent.

Vuron strode across the pitchy plane of Tarterus and hammered on the gates of Hades itself. Cacodaemons from Pandemonium marched with daemon and demon under Vuron's command. There they were met by the legions of the hells, now likewise armed with a mighty instrument of evil, and Nerull's glooms shook under the impact of the crash of devil and demon ranks colliding.

The gods of Weal then fell upon the marches of the Nine Hells, harried Pandemonium, and brought destruction to any sort of evil found campaigning outside its own black realm. Some assistance too they gave to the men and demihumans of Oerth, but none of it was enough. The lords of light themselves were at odds, and Iuz's strength was too great for anything but a completely unified opposition.

The very stuff of creation groaned under the weight of the magic and power unleashed in the manifold battles across space, time, and probability. On the gameboard of the multiverse, the pawns and pieces of black swept outward to slay those of dull purple, rust red, and other colors. Those of gold captured pieces of tawny and red, while the forces of white fell upon gray, and the blue position remained aloof. Huddled in the center, the little array of emerald warriors formed itself into a ring and waited.

The One of Greatest Evil still lay comatose, fettered, and locked in unbreachable imprisonment. Perhaps the incarceration would not last forever, yet at the moment there seemed to be no need for his release. Fear and terror, strife and slaughter, reigned everywhere, and the malign was surely coming into ascendance. All portions of the Theorpart were in play now; conjoined or not, their evil influence was growing ever stronger, more pervasive. Perhaps this darkness was what kept the forces of Good from uniting. At any rate, that was not a topic for debate. The only fact that mattered was that demoniacal hordes were marching triumphantly, both on Oerth and throughout the planes of the netherworld.

"An emissary from Hades is here, dread master."

Vuron gave his full attention to the ahazu-demon who addressed him. The lank, long-armed monster was known as Talonclasp. The demon's ability was great, and Vuron had recently promoted the ahazu to command of the Cacodaemon Horde. The force was still posted as his own guard, so the ahazu-demon was remaining as Vuron's chief of staff until the cacodaemons were moved into combat.

"Emissary?" Vuron asked with a sneer. "What minion of Nerull dares venture into my hand so?"

Talonclasp managed to meet the pink eyes of the albino demon lord without submissiveness or challenge evident in his own gaze. "The netherhag Sekculintig is the visitor. Lord Vuron. She is coven-mistress of all-"

"Yes, yes. I know who the hag is, and I am aware of her power as well," the albino interrupted. "Now why would Nerull send her… or has she come of her own volition?" The question was obviously Vuron's way of thinking aloud, so the ahazu stood rigidly silent. Vuron noted this and approved. "Did she volunteer anything. Talonclasp?"

"No, dread master. The hag simply commanded that I announce her to you personally."

"As I had presumed," Vuron said with a trace of satisfaction. "You performed with precise duty, aha-zu, which is rare in any sort of demon, let alone your ilk. You have confirmed your merit. Fetch the hag to me, then make certain none other disturbs us."

"Yes, my lord," said Talonclasp as he exited. In a second he and the emissary were back in the brazen pavilion that housed the Master of the Hordes in the field. Immediately upon announcing the arrival of the hag, the ahazu-demon was away again, and Sekculintig and Vuron stood confronting one another. The hag knew she was expected to speak first, and so she did.

"Greetings, you pale and sexless lump of shit," she said.

"And to you, ugly heap of putrescence which not even a disease-crazed goat would copulate with." Vuron countered.

That made Sekculintig cackle with mirth. "You are so good at clever comebacks, whitey!"

"You inspire that in all, I think," the albino demon lord said dryly. "But let us put pleasantries aside and get down to pressing matters — such as why you have placed your worthless being into my grasp!"

The hag cackled maniacally again, the sound reverberating horribly inside the vast metal space of the pavilion. "Are you so sure of your powers?" she said snidely. "Perhaps the Empress of Hags has something up her sleeve, eh?"

The great demon's hand reached for an ebon ziggurat on the stand next to him. "Say something meaningful, hag, or I shall terminate this interview."

"You are unlike others of the Abyss, Vuron," Sekculintig fairly purred in response. "You are greater… and could be more so!"

"Is that so?" the albino said without emotion.

"Oh, yes, Vuron. That you know. I would not dare to try to lie to you in the very nexus of your strength. I am here on behalf of Infestix and all those who support the Ultimate One of Nullity. The dukes of the hells vie, each seeking the honor of serving as Tharizdun's left hand. Infestix sends me to offer the honor to you!"

Tharizdun is still bound," spat Vuron. "And is Nerull so sure he is the right hand that he can offer the left?" The demon lord purposely would not use Infestix's true name, preferring to refer to the lord of Hades by the name he used for his avatar on the plane of Oerth. Some used the names interchangeably, but Vuron considered "Nerull" to be of lesser status than "Infestix" and so made the distinction.

The hag fought to control her rage, suppress her anxiety. If she could somehow convince the albino demon lord to turn his coat and support Hades, then she would certainly become the right hand of Infestix. But Sekculintig herself would be in jeopardy if she failed in persuading Vuron to take up the cause of Tharizdun. The slumber is broken, pale lord. The confines weaken and the shackles corrode, for the artifact is active."

She let that sink in for a moment, then Sekculintig crooned on. "None can deny that Infestix leads the array who will free the Darkest, so is there any question as to which of Evil's princes will be placed on the right?"

"Perhaps. What merit places me on the left?"

"Without you the demons will splinter and offer no resistance. You, and the Theorpart you wield, would bring the matter into swift resolution!"

"I am one weak lord amongst a myriad of great demons." Vuron offered, slyly watching the coven-mistress of hags.

"Don't try to beguile me, you colorless maggot! Has not Graz'zt granted you fully a tithe of his power? And the six and sixty greater and lesser who bow to that inky shoat have likewise allowed trickles of their puissance to flow to you. How can you portray yourself as weak? Turds fall from your silly mouth!"

The albino demon lord was taken aback — not by the words themselves, but by how much they revealed about what the netherhag knew. In truth. Vuron realized full well that at this moment he was possibly the most powerful of all demons. Powers had been bestowed upon him, others gained in conflict, others drained from the lesser demonlings who virtually worshiped him. Demogorgon in all his might would quail before him if Vuron chose to reveal his strength. How foolish he had been to assume he alone understood that. "Possibly, Sekculintig, I am almost as powerful as you seem to imagine." he conceded. "Still, you mentioned the six and sixty who bow to Graz'zt. I will reveal a secret and tell you that there are now more. My Lord Graz'zt commands fully one-half of the Abyss. Of what use is Vuron before that demonic assemblage?"

"Fagh! That collection is nothing more than violent bullies, moronic giants, and gibbering destroyers who will be at each other's throats in no time without you and the Theorpart to weld them into servitude. Graz'zt is no better than the other princes. Without you he would be another little kinglet in the howling maelstrom of contention."

"Have a care how you speak, hag!"

"Don't try that tone on me, Vuron. I see the gleam in your pink eyes. You are as lustful for power as any

— even more so, I would guess, for you have no other lusts, do you?" Sekculintig's screeching cackle of laughter at her own wit was such that she didn't notice the low sound from the albino demon's throat or see his face harden.

"If I attempted to desert Graz'zt's horde, even I would be overwhelmed by those lesser lords and greater demons who are loyal to him. To attempt that by using the ancient tool of Evil I have charge of would merely compound the numbers who would try to prevent it."

"I thought so," the netherhag gloated. "You are as corruptible as any devil, daemon, or hag! Well, albino, know that you will have help when you show the demon fartbag the price of making war on Hades. Does that satisfy you?"

"What, that empty assurance? You take me for one of the dolts of the Abyss? You will learn otherwise, hag. The blandishments you offer are meaningless. This audience is ended."

"Wait! I offer no empty promises, Lord Vuron. Pazuzeus will assist you in making transference to The Pit. Your own Talonclasp sides with us, and his cacodaemons will attack and spread disorder to mask your coming over to Tharizdun's cause!"

"Then all is certainly finished."

"What?" Sekculintig was uncertain of the demon lord's meaning.

"Thank you," Vuron replied as he opened his alabaster lips and allowed a withering blast of pure energy to shoot forth. The vomited force struck the netherhag with a soundless roar that devoured her being totally. In Hades, Infestix screamed in pain, for he had sent his essence with Sekculintig to spy out the demon lord's reaction, to measure Vuron. When his minions rushed to him, Infestix merely told them to send for Laudilewis immediately. That hag was the next in line for coven-mistress. Infestix would need the powers wielded by the hags more than ever now.

The ahazu was another matter. Vuron took his time, maiming and killing Talonclasp over a period of many days. As rampaging demons under Vuron's control decimated the ranks of the cacodaemons, devouring the leaders of the planned rebellion and destroying others for example and pleasure, the albino demon lord tortured and questioned his former officer. The ahazu-demon had been imbued with devil-shine and with the dweomers of Hades as well. That one had long been a traitor. Carefully peeling his consciousness as if the ahazu were an onion, Vuron found the truth beneath skins of deception and subterfuge. Then he caged what mewling little portion of Talonclasp remained and prepared to hasten back to the Abyss.

Vuron's departure for the Abyss came slightly after Iuz's thrusts southward in the Flanaess had virtually ceased. Much fighting, pitched battles, and sieges aplenty were still occurring. But the advancing companies of demoniac evil were no longer driven from within. The enemy of Good no longer rolled onward as if it were an invincible juggernaut. Now its commanders were mere men or monsters — vile sorcerers, ruthless killers, unfeeling creatures of undeath. Gone were Iuz, the cambion's demon ally Zuggtmoy, and the great witch Iggwilv.

The pale lord of the Abyss cursed himself when he cast forth his witch-sight from his pavilion on Tarterus and discovered what had occurred, fully a week after the withdrawals had taken place. Vuron knew at that moment that he had indeed pulled the truth from the ahazu-demon; what he saw happening on Oerth confirmed Talonclasp's reluctant admission that Iuz and his Theorpart were being brought into play against Graz'zt. Had he not been so filled with his own pride, his belief in his own accomplishments, Vuron thought, then he would have seen the matter coming to light sooner. Now it might be too late.

The crux of the problem was Iuz, of course. The half-demon, offspring of Iggwilv and Graz'zt, hated his father more than he hated most things. Iggwilv was probably behind the ploy, since she also despised Graz'zt and was perhaps even more devious than her cambion son. But what part did Zuggtmoy and her clan play? Cursing the prospect of a two-front war, forcing him to divide his forces between Tarterus and the Abyss, Vuron appointed one of his lieutenants to serve as liaison between his headquarters and those of the demon lords who commanded the various hordes in the field. Then he disappeared in a silent, purple-black shimmering, gating from the frontiers of Tarterus back to the home realm of demonkind. Perhaps he would be in time to save Graz'zt and prevent the defeat of the Abyss by its foes.

"Where have you been?" The question was an accusation, the voice a snarling scream.

"Serving you as I then thought best, my king," Vuron said evenly.

Graz'zt, his giant ebony frame tense on his massive chair of state, was obviously not about to accept so reasonable a reply. "There has been a shift of power here! Why didn't you warn me, Vuron?" As he spoke, crackling motes of dark energy came from his body, forming an aura of negativity that sucked in little bolts of electricity from the dim atmosphere of the huge chamber. These crackles played in sudden bursts around the demon king and made his aspect even more terrible.

The tall, straight body of the albino demon lord bent in subjection. "It was the power of Initiator, my king. That force, and the emissions of your own Theorpart too, masked the turn of events."

"Give it to me!" Graz'zt screamed. "You were trusted with the most important assignment, and you failed! Where is Unbinder? I want it now!"

"As you wish, King Graz'zt." The albino held forth both of his long, powerful hands, palms upward. His pink eyes glazed, then burned a ruby hue. The black, conical shape of the third portion of the mighty relic appeared in his pale hands. As if it were upon a cushion, Vuron presented it, dropping down to one knee as he did so. "Your Theorpart, my king," he intoned ceremoniously.

The black demon snatched the dark object from Vuron, the Theorpart becoming nearly invisible as Graz'zt clutched it to his massively muscled chest. Then its strange dweomer came into play. The crackling energies around the demon king were drawn to it and absorbed in a lightless flash that was still somehow perceptible. The effect was instantaneous on Graz'zt. He seemed to grow larger and more awesome. "Get out!" he shouted at Vuron. "I will hold council soon. Be prepared! Your failure will be judged then."

"I hear and stand always ready to serve, my king," the albino said quietly as he bowed his head and withdrew. Graz'zt was paying no attention, clutching Unbinder and drawing in great waves of energy with it. Vuron made no sound as he left the hall. The tall, stick-thin, and leathery-skinned albino stood out among the weird nightmare of demons in the palace, not only because of his alabaster skin but because of the power he held. As steward to Graz'zt, he commanded instant homage from all there save a few princes and one or two demon lords holding high office.

As Master of the Roving Hordes, Vuron was the third most powerful general in his king's growing domain. Only Prince Yeenoghu and Lord Kostchtchie were superior in rank — and that only theoretically, for the albino demon lord controlled fully two-thirds of all the troops inhabiting Greater Mezzafgraduun, the name given to the layers of the Abyss that were under Graz'zt's purview. Vuron flinched inwardly at that thought. He had been in such a position of power. Now… who could say? From the sly glances and covert whisperings he evoked, Vuron knew that word, as usual, was sweeping through the grand palace: "Vuron is in disfavor," went the mutterings. "Beware when you speak to him, or you too might suffer the wrath."

With bearing, gaze, and controlled gesture the near-skeletal albino commanded and got every bit of respect and obedience due him, but not one jot more. None came fawning to ask favors. No groveling and begging supplicants lurked outside his personal suite. Vuron shrugged and ignored that. Excellence and commitment would tell in the end. A pair of hulking skurda guarded the portal. The flat, lifeless eyes of the scorpion-demons seemed to grow even more dead as he passed, but both were otherwise perfect in appearance and demeanor. The albino carefully closed the door to his chambers and locked it fast with a spell. Then, using his secret word of passage. Vuron went into the inner cyst where all of his vital information was kept. He floated above the concave floor in the center of the space, looking down upon a holographic map of the Abyss.

Mezzafgraduun, three hundred thirty-third layer of the Abyssal Plane, glowed with a deep, opaline luster. There were twenty-nine levels above it and thirteen below that had a paler though similar hue. Those were the layers now conquered and made part of the greater kingdom of Graz'zt. The realms of Kostchtchie. Yeenoghu, and the newly joined Baphomet shimmered in tones of color that indicated their past status. In all, six dozen strata of the plane were now bound to Graz'zt — counting only the useful, productive ones. Adding in the various shunned layers and forsaken backwaters, virtually a quarter of the whole plane was under the control of the obsidian king of demons. Little markers and strange, floating sigils showed demon gatherings, hordes, powers, and magics in play. Fully half of all of these indicators were of the silvery black sheen of Graz'zt and his minions.

At a mental command, the sphere of the demoniac realm altered and the whole of the netherworld replaced it. More of the dark opalescence appeared, demonstrating the extent of Graz'zt's power, the sweep of what was in actuality the first demon empire. If each plane of the dark realm was likened to a continent, then Graz'zt had spread his power out to engulf two and was threatening a third, from a base that was but a portion of the demon-land. Masses of red and purple glyphs writhed along a line described by similar markings of glowing black and smoky color, the place where the front of the advancing horde of demons was met by devil legions and daemon divisions. At a thought, Vuron could cause any such marking to expand and reveal details of Its representation, whether it was an auxiliary legion of second-rate dreggals, elite maniples of evil-horned devils, or the battalions of Nerull himself. The demon lord Impassively noted that every advance he had planned seemed stalled, and there were possible reverses taking shape. But that was secondary and must wait until later. He concentrated once again, and the view shifted again, so that the sphere of the Abyss now filled the chamber.

Vuron floated gently through the phantom replications of the demon strata. These layers wavered and changed as the demon lord sought here and there. Nothing! This is not actual," the stick-thin demon said aloud. He closed his red-pink eyes and concentrated. He still maintained a link to the Theorpart. Carefully, so as not to alert Graz'zt, he drew power from the matrix that was Unbinder, letting the great evil force of the artifact flow through him. Its energy filled Vuron, spilled out, and surrounded him with a field of terrible strength.

"Now let us see," the demon lord cried, and Intoning mind-shattering syllables In his sing-song incantation, Vuron knitted, shaped, and focused the power that he had leeched Into a palpable cluster of tentacles. These he sent into the phantom projection, and as they entered the projection they too became ethereal and vanished, small things lost in the greatness. But the force within them dwarfed all else, and suddenly the maplike depiction shimmered, flickered, and changed.

"Now I see you!" It was a cry of triumph, for the seemingly quiet layers that surrounded the domain of Graz'zt became hot with the glow of enemy forces at work. Triumph turned quickly to disbelief, disbelief to agony, as Vuron comprehended the extent of the debacle. Graz'zt's fury had been spewed forth upon the albino because the stratum of the cataboligne demons had been wrested from the king's grasp by an unexpected assault. Vuron was certain that Graz'zt envisioned it as nothing more than a minor revolt in the provinces, so to speak. The albino demon lord now grasped the fullness of the enemies' strength.

Up from the depths swept the forces of the slime-demon queen Zuggtmoy and her cohort Szhublox. With them were the standards of Demogorgon. Var-Az-Hloo, and a score of other demon lords. Even as Vuron's gaze took in the advance, the mass of hostile sigils was brightened. It now gleamed with the glyphs of the hordes of Mandrillagon and Abraxas with their lesser vassals as well. The combined host was awesome in its strength and numbers, and Graz'zt had no intelligence of its approach.

The revealed energies above were no better. There was the unmistakable rune of the cambion Iuz and beside it that of the witch Iggwilv. Both were incandescent with the power of the Initiator. "They cluster like dung beetles around a massive pile of turds!" Vuron grated aloud as he saw the sigils of the demon princes and lords that hovered nearby. Orcus to the right, Azazel and Bulumuz there too. Eblis was to the left, with Lugush and Marduk. Close by was Socoth-benoth, positioned as if to prop up the cambion. Behind all of them trailed a cluster of lords and greater demonlings, their trains, and their demon soldiers.

Between these two jaws lay the newly won kingdom of his lord Graz'zt. The bands and hordes guarding its frontiers were few, scattered, weak. The advancing adversaries would crack them like a nut in a vise. Vuron shouted an awful word of power. The scene vanished, and the whole secret chamber shook as it was drained by the magical utterance. The albino cared not. The place had served its purpose.

Vuron strode into the antechamber of Graz'zt's own suite in the royal wing of the sprawling palace. The massive guristhoi who served as the dark demon king's bodyguards tried to prevent the albino demon lord from entering. Steel-hard scales, colossal muscles, and fearsome attack powers were of no avail, of course. The tall, thin demon lord brushed the sentinels aside with a small gesture. His personal efficacy would have been sufficient alone, and Vuron still bore the massive infusion of the black force from the Theorpart as well. The guristhoi were frozen immobile instantly. The huge valves of hematite swung open at his approach, and the albino strode into the sanctum sanctorum of Graz'zt without heralding of other sort.

The six-fingered demon king sprang up from his couch. He had evidently been deep in discussion with certain of his advisors. The dark elf Eclavdra, his great high priestess, was there, as were Ogrijek, lord of the winged zubassu; the flame-demon Palvlag; and Nergal, the Justicier. Maps and papers littered the table around which their seats were clustered. "How dare you?" Graz'zt boomed. "This time, pale dog, you have gone too far!"

Vuron prostrated his thin body full length upon the mirror-polished jet slabs of the chamber floor, but almost as he so supplicated himself the albino was on his feet again. Unnaturally long arms waving, Vuron plunged ahead with what he had to do. Graz'zt actually turned pale at this, his ebon color fading to a dark ashen hue, for he saw what could only be the passes needed to summon power and use it. Vuron is here, thought Graz'zt, to assassinate me!

Graz'zt took a step back, and his hand grasped the icy metal of Unbinder desperately. "No, my liege!" Vuron shouted. "Look!"

The strange movements Vuron had completed caused a high-pitched twanging to fill the room, and at the same moment three-dimensional images appeared on either hand. "Behold the faces of your enemies, King Graz'zt!"

"Are you mad? Play you the gnomish buffoon, Vuron?!" Graz'zt barely glanced at the shadowy figures that moved and seemed to pantomime speech. The great demon had the Theorpart firmly in hand now and drew himself up to his full height, looming over even the tall albino.

"Send him to nothingness, great king!" The voice that urged Graz'zt to use the power of the evil artifact was that of Ogrijek.

"Please withhold your ire, my lord Graz'zt." came Eclavdra's clear voice sweetly. "Isn't that Iuz there, with Orcus?"

Lowering the conical device slowly, Graz'zt turned his gaze from the pink eyes of his albino warlord and steward to look where the dark-elf priestess was pointing. Sure enough, there was the cambion in his demoniacal form speaking with grand gestures to none other than the ram-headed king of vampires and their ilk. "What's this?" the demon king roared, again assailing Vuron with words. "You affront me with such scum in my own inner chambers?"

The nerve-jangling whine accompanying the ghostly images suddenly ceased and was replaced by a voice: "… to fall upon my gross and stupid sire and utterly crush him and all his vomit-sucking little-"

The bland face of the corpulent Orcus split, the woolly muzzle showing teeth appropriate to a shark's maw rather than that of so innocuous a creature as a sheep. "Silence!" the great demon bleated. There — see there! Phantom forms in the mist." Iuz's skin tone deepened from its light red to a fuchsia color, but nevertheless the cambion kept quiet and gazed in the direction Orcus indicated. Both appeared to be staring straight into Graz'zt's own eyes.

"An omen, and a potent one," hissed Iggwilv as she too stared. That the vapors rising from the Cyanic Fens should take the form of 'dear' Graz'zt even as we march for his stronghold is a great portent. We shall thus immerse him in such stuff when he falls into our hands!"

As this occurred, Vuron made further passes, and the perspective suddenly altered to one that was above the figures. This Graz'zt noted, even as his main attention stayed upon the trio. "Omen? My scepter tells me it was something more dire than a foretelling, witch," the gross Orcus said in his blaring baah. "Yet there is no sense of it now, and the apparition too has vanished…."

"Attend me, King of Unlife," Iuz said in his demanding tone. "I wield the uncheckable might of Initiator. With it, I… we all… will overthrow the usurper. If the Font of Witchdom says it is a portent, then so it is!"

Orcus made some sort of reply, but his voice died away as Graz'zt turned away from that tableau in order to observe the other phantasms elsewhere. His eyes fixed on Zuggtmoy in her repulsive fungoid form, with the equally disgusting slime lord Szhublox, chimerical Demogorgon, and the other vile demons who attended them. "We will divide all of the Abyss between us," Demogorgon's rasping hiss said clearly throughout the chamber, "and all who do not fight with us now will be subjected to final termination upon our victory!"

"Just so, Abyssal Prince," Zuggtmoy's booming, rotten voice sounded in agreement. "All that was the claim of Graz'zt, and the fiefs of his curs too, will be ours to divide."

"What of the high priestess Eclavdra?" Var-Az-Hloo asked. "I have heard of the drow's beauty and skills…."

"I think that none will say thee nay should you choose to claim her as booty, handsome one," the fungoid demon queen fairly chortled, "if she somehow survives the coming devastation of her lord and master's false kingdom!"

"Enough!" Graz'zt was a lightless blur, his form barely recognizable. Great energies were being drawn to him, and the effect was startling even to Vuron, who had done a similar feat not so long ago. "I see now that I was in error, my steward. When did you discover this?"

"But a short time ago, my king. I came without regard to protocol or heed for my own well-being."

Graz'zt snarled, but the ferocity was directed at the images of the demon enemies. "They make alliance against me because of Iggwilv's urging and the Theorpart's power. If the witch and her sprat had brought Initiator's might to me, the whole of the Abyss united could not oppose my will. They conjoin from fear and greed. Yet they are allied…."

"Dogs who snap and snarl at each other, mighty king," said Ogrijek, lord of the zubassu-demons, in his most ingratiating tone. "They will devour each other, great Graz'zt, if you will but assign me more hordes to oppose them. My winged killers alone are not enough!"

Palvlag, not to be outdone, urged that he and his flame-demons be assigned to a major position immediately so as to smash the coming attack, even as the Justicier, Nergal, being the most powerful of the trio, demanded that he be awarded command of both of them and their followers. The three-way debate was stopped short by Graz'zt.

"You three will all have important commands… under me! Get ready, for I go to crush Demogorgon and his pack of scum myself. Now get out! Be ready whenever I call. You, high priestess, stay here with Vuron. I will assign you duties now." Not daring to complain, let alone offer protest, the three demon lords skulked out, casting sidelong glares at Vuron and the drow Eclavdra.

Vuron spoke first after the trio had left. "I trust not the zubassu thegn- "

Trust!? I trust none… except my handmaiden, here, and you, Vuron. Now be silent, for I rule here. With Kostchtchie and that lot will I go. You, Vuron, will speed south even as I march north. Because you have employed the Theorpart so well, I again entrust its power to you. I have drawn strength aplenty from it, and I also have my sword and the Eye of Deception. Remember, though, steward, that I will always keep contact with Unbinder."

"And what is my assignment, my king?" Eclavdra asked.

To stand beside Vuron. To assist him, and to watch him too. Yeenoghu and a dozen others of power will also be there, but Vuron is to have overall command. You, Eclavdra, are his lieutenant and my watchdog."

The drow bowed her beautiful head in silent acceptance, showing nothing except that by so doing.

The albino demon likewise bowed in homage. "I hear and obey, king," Vuron muttered deferentially. Graz'zt actually smiled at the pale demon lord, his fiery green eyes snowing something as akin to true respect and friendship as is possible for such beings. Vuron saw that, bowed lower, and continued. "And if Iuz should come forth with his Theorpart?…"

The smile turned to a savage, wolfish snarl. "Ah, my steward, if I could only be there for such an event! Yet I am confident you will know how to deal with that gross idiot should that happen. It is the witch you must beware of most. Have care should she come forth!"

Both Vuron and Eclavdra nodded and started to depart. Graz'zt stopped them short with what seemed like an afterthought. "The full council will meet in one, hour. I had thought to discuss other matters…. Come with the rest, but both of you are to say nothing. Listen only. At the conclusion, you two will remain behind, for I will need your assessment of the lords present. As I told you, I trust none fully, most of that lot must be watched." Then Graz'zt left them, and his two closest servants quickly made their way to their own places to prepare.