Come Endless Darkness

assistance directly from the Archimage himself.

'Carefully, so as not to arouse attention from watchers of the evil ones, the work was done. The clue was sufficient to reveal that a netherfiend was involved in the slaughter, and only a few of such monsters can be so employed. By careful selection and questioning of those beings who attend to the matter of transference through the portals that wend their way from the foul pits to the material worlds, it was discovered which fiend was involved.'

'That one's name?' Gord demanded harshly.

'Krung. One of the most disgusting and potent of the thirty-three able to move out of the nether pits.'

'Let us go to where you have it prisoned and force all from its vile throat!' Gord sprang to his feet and started for the door.

'Easy, my friend, easy there,' Rexfelis said soothingly. 'Please return to your place a moment, for the troubador has more to tell you, I am certain.'

That is true, Lord of Cats,' Gellor said. 'Do listen, please, Gord. We dared not force the netherfiend into returning to this plane for fear of alerting its master and all the lords of evil. Instead, we attempted to discover which sorcerous servant of the pits commanded service from Krung.'

'With what result?'

At that the one-eyed troubador smiled a wolfish smile. 'A most enlightening result, my dear comrade, a most enlightening one indeed! There are some of the elements which defy Neutrality and serve Evil. There was the matter of the long series of violent storms which came too conveniently for coincidence. Although we dared not delve into the lower realms in our quest for truth, those of elemental air were more than open to us. Greenleaf alone was able to trace down and summon the one which had served to call forth the storms which enabled the murderous work to be done in secret. We forced the truth from the thing, a creature called Vashmilkusom. Then we imprisoned it safely to await a time when it will be convenient for us to return it to its own place and execute it.'

Gord allowed himself a moment to feel satisfaction, then inquired, 'The elemental revealed who had summoned it to bring the storms?'

'Oh yes, eagerly too… after a time. The summoner, the one who commands the service of the netherfiend Krung, is one you might actually have heard of. He is from Greyhawk and uses many different appellations. It took us only a few hours to discover that, but we do not have his true name.'

'Enough beating around the bush, Gellor,' Gord said in the hard, impatient tone he had used so frequently of late. 'What aliases does the scum use?'

'Undron Nalvistor is the one you may have heard, Gord. That is the name that the Assassins Guild of Greyhawk knows him by. Beanpole is the appellation that the urchins of the Low Quarter use, while his older neighbors there refer to him as Norund, a dotty gemner. Certain of the city's oligarchs utilize his talents, thinking the man to be named Rundon Tallman, a mystic and seer of no small power.'

After pondering a minute, Gord shook his head slowly. 'Odd. I have not heard those names at all. This one is a spider!'

'Spider and adder as well,' Gellor concurred with a look of disgust and loathing on his lined countenance. Tet not so clever as he thinks himself to be — not by half! He used the air elemental to travel swiftly and safely from Greyhawk to Hardby. Then he masqueraded as a cleric, calling himself Brother Donnur, and insinuated himself onto a vessel bound for Safe-ton. How he knew that Silver Seeker was making for that same port speaks volumes in testimony of his connections with the nether realms.

'When he arrived in Safeton slightly in advance of Seeker, which was coming from the opposite direction, he assumed the guise of Graves, a navigator and river pilot. He fabricated a suitable tale, applied bribery freely, and got aboard Seeker as the one who would guide it safely up the Selintan to Greyhawk. That he did, but in the end only so that he could torture and murder the ship's captain and crew outside the city's high ramparts.

'His vile servants know his name as Gravestone. So too his masters use that name, in all likelihood. He is a rarity — perhaps a nonesuch, considering just who this Gravestone must bow down to. The creature is a demonurgist of great power. We have not discovered which of the abyssal spheres are in his thrall, but we will, we will. Powerful and clever — invisible until now — but no supra-genius. Gravestone left a clear trail from his meddling with elementals and others of that ilk. He can no longer hide from us, Gord!'

'And he has the sword?'

'Aye. Donnur the mendicant cleric entered Grey-hawk the very morning of the frightful killings aboard Silver Seeker. By close querying we discovered that the supposed priest carried with him a sword-sized parcel. Man, weapon, and whereabouts — we have them all!'

Basiliv and Rexfelis exchanged glances. 'That is fine work, Gellor,' the Demiurge said then. 'No wonder so many of our associates in the alliance speak so highly of your talents. One small matter, though. It seems that this… Gravestone knows far too much. How, for instance, did he know that the sword was there aboard that ship? What intelligence does this demon-binder have?'

'More than mere demons, even lords of their vile kind,' the troubador said with conviction. Tenser posed the same question. How can it come to pass that this one knew to find the right vessel at the right time and take from it the sword?'

Gord stood and raised his right hand, slowly turning it into a fist. 'Because there is a traitor amongst us,' he spat through clenched teeth.

'Just so,' the Demiurge agreed. 'Not one highly placed, however. It would be worse otherwise. Someone who professes to serve Balance is actually a carefully masked double agent. It can only be one of those placed so as to pass information, a relay.' Basiliv turned to the Catlord. 'When Gord told us that he had left the sword on board the ship, who was it that took the information out to pass along to the rest of the network?'

'Prince Lurajal and Prince Raug,' Rexfelis replied slowly, obviously weighing each in his mind as he spoke, trying to fathom which of the two might be leagued with Evil.

'Let us summon them to us, then.' Gord said the words before the Demiurge could. 'One or the other, we will have the truth quickly enough!'

'Have a care. Lord of Cats,' Basiliv said instantly. 'Either of them could undo us now. Both have at worst an inkling — at best, certain knowledge — that Gord is the foreordained champion. Whichever one of those two is the spy and traitor, he must be itching to convey that information to the masters of evil. Do not alert either Raug or Lurajal of the true reason for their summoning. The guilty one will certainly have some means of escaping, some portal to carry him away instantly to the nether realms!'

'They shall both believe that they are to accompany their cousin, Gord, on his imminent visit to the material world,' Rexfelis said with a tigerish snarl. 'Have no fear. Both will come quickly enough upon hearing that… only one of them will hasten to us for the wrong reason!'

It was open and shut as far as Gord was concerned. In his mind the young champion dismissed Lurajal from consideration. There could be no real suspicion about that one. Not only had he become Gord's fast friend, but he was too open, too uncomplicated a person to manage such duplicity as what had occurred. In short, Lurajal was just not bright or clever enough to manage such black treachery. Raug, on the other hand….

Rexfelis called one of his servitors into the room. After giving a carefully worded set of instructions, the Catlord told them all to compose themselves and to wait. It was only a few minutes before both of the suspects came eagerly into their presence.

Raug bowed stiffly, showing not a little cold jealousy on his face when it came to paying his respects to the new crown prince, Gord. On the other hand, when Lurajal entered he did not bother with protocol and went straight to the young man and hugged him. 'Gord!' Lurajal purred. 'High time they recognized you as prince and heir!'

'Does that suffice?' Gord said aloud, looking from Rexfelis to Basiliv and then finally glaring at Gellor and Raug.

The latter scowled. 'I have no idea what you mean… prince,' Raug said.

Lurajal didn't bother to inquire at all. 'When do we seek out the enemy?' he asked Gord.

'Enough, all of you,' the Lord of Cats said, looking meaningfully at the young champion. His glance told Gord to shut his mouth and keep it that way. 'Now then — you, Raug, and you, Lurajal, of House Panonca. Do you both stand ready and willing to serve me in a matter of life and death?'

'Yes, Lord of Us All,' the two replied in chorus.