The fabled Rhymers of the Blackfens, those northern mages who with kanteel and verse wrought world- shaking dweomers, might exceed the troubador's own ability in magic. On the other hand, it was in that land of snow and ice that Gellor had won his own kanteel and brought back great spells for his own repertoire. Gord doubted that any of the great druidic bards would care to challenge the oneeyed troubador to a contest of skill in that vein. Perhaps Gellor was as great as any man or elf, then, when it came to the weaving of spells by music and verse. Yet, as Gord, he was but a man, for all intents and purposes.
'The very deities themselves hesitate to confront the foe,' Gord murmured as he rolled into a more comfortable position, 'yet Gellor and I go forth readily enough upon command. This multiverse is passing strange. . ' Then he closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Had he been awake, and had one of the deities Gord referred to been there to comment, the reason for what Gord regarded as passing strangeness might have been explained to him. There was cause for the terrible battles raging on Oerth, the wars being fought on many planets parallel to that world and existing in its universe and others. There was purpose and cause for the one champion to strive against the coming of Evil's domination to be, in most part, human. Mankind, its inherent frailties included, was the crux of the whole struggle. Whether the struggle was expressed in terms of Evil versus Good, devil versus deva, or demon versus deity, the very existence of those concepts and entities relied solely upon the existence and intellect of mankind. Of course, the term 'mankind' included more than just human beings. It encompassed the little folk of faerie, whether of unseelie or seelie court, men and elves, and all other manner of humanoids, from gnome to giant. The devotion of mankind made possible the very existence of such beings as gods, empowered them to act, gave them cause for disputation and division, alignment and antithesis, glory and extinction.
Even those entities whose reliance upon the thought and energy of mankind was minimal or nonexistent found themselves desiring those forces. Understanding, appreciation, awe, dread, and the manifold other emotions that stem from the thoughts of such creatures as dwarves and men and goblins and ogres was as gold to most such beings.
One thing was certain. Balance understood its cause and purpose. It sought to maintain all, so that there would be meaning and purpose to the whole. Just as certainty, there was an entity somewhere in the multiverse which cared nothing for equilibrium. That entity disdained mankind and its power, the deities and demons and their own force. It would greet death with death; for once the grave has taken all life, death too must cease to exist in their splendid and lofty hubris, the lords of the spheres of Light refused to make common cause against Evil, and had it not been for the willful and unruled demons, the nether realms would already have laid unending darkness on all.
Now Balance, and that only in the person of a single champion, Gord, had an opportunity to strike against the growing might of Evil. The problem was compounded by the emergence of the unknown entity that sought to destroy both Good and Evil, In the process removing the reason for and the existence of the neutral equilibrium. The small and relatively weak center of things, that called Balance, had one special advantage in the face of all its challenges. At its heart, it was the force of mankind, its perceptions and understandings those of man's thought. And perhaps, in the end, its willingness to accept any ally gave it the strength to fulfill its purpose.
Gord slept dreamlessly. No voice intruded upon his slumber. That was well and good. Soon enough he would need every resource.
Then. .'Please join us, champion.'
There was no sound. The words sprang into his mind as if spoken. It was a new sensation to Gord, and a disturbing one. 'I will come in minutes,' he replied mentally. There had been other such strange things in the past, disquieting additions to what he had presumed was 'normal'. First had been the expansion of his visual ability so that he could see in low light. That ability had grown to include vision into the lower and higher spectra, so that eventually Gord accepted the glow of heat or the radiance of some magical or aural light as normal — to him, if not to most men.
Then the young adventurer had been required to deal with the transformation of his form into that of a cat The immutable body became a thing of the past. As a hand could be closed to make a fist, then open again, or as he could crawl, creep, or walk, so too Gord came to understand his ability to be man or feline, as naturally as any body movement or activity.
Magic was the cause of these phenomena initially, and because he accepted the existence of magic, he could accept the abilities. Then, when the source of these abilities became inherent power, that too was eventually assimilated. Now the expansion of his mind to allow for nonverbal communication and other perceptions as well was disconcerting — but Gord knew that in time this would become as normal to him as the rest. He smiled, thinking of the amazement on a child's face when it first takes a step. 'There are many such eventful steps in life,' he mused.
Gellor was waiting for him in the broad hall that led from their wing to the chamber where the others were assembled. 'Is this the awaited moment?' he asked, falling into step beside the short gray-eyed champion.
Gord shrugged and asked about something else instead of replying. 'Do you now speak mind to mind?'
'No,' the troubador responded with a puzzled expression. 'What made you ask that?'
'Well,' his friend explained. 'I was wondering how you happened to be alone and waiting for me in such short order. I was just informed of the meeting, you see.'
'Something awakened me, and I knew instinctively that we were needed — at least, I think I knew. . '
'Right,' Gord replied laconically. 'Welcome to the brotherhood, as they say,' he added as he looked at the one-eyed man, giving him a nod in lieu of a formal bow. When his companion peered back quizzically, the dark- haired champion responded, 'You haven't made a sound since I asked you about mental communication!'
'Congratulations, both of you.' Another mindvoice entered the unspoken dialogue. 'Now if you would stop blasting your chit-chat throughout the place, the rest of us can get on with our discussion here,' the mental voice of Rexfelis added without sarcasm.
Both men looked abashed, causing a pair of strolling guards to stare after them with momentary uncertainty. Had they been strangers, or even wellknown visitors, they would have been stopped and held for questioning. Instead, the guards snapped into salute and kept their own counsel regarding the odd expressions on the faces of prince and noble hero. Those of such exalted station were simply above the understanding of others, their reasoning must have gone.
'Better that we speak aloud,' Gellor said when they were out of earshot of the armed sentries.
'Much better,' Gord muttered. 'I hate being a child again,' he added. As if understanding fully what his friend referred to, the grizzled troubador merely nodded and sighed. Gord could well understand that too, for the feeling in Gellor must be compounded due to his greater number of years. Wondering carefully to himself about whether or not familiarity with enspellments eased the shock of such a new situation. Gord led the way into the secluded room where the leaders of the coalition representing neutrality and equilibrium held conclave.
Formalities were dispensed with. All present knew full well who was who and what particular status was due from and to each respectively. None of that mattered at this time. All of those in the council understood that if events went on unchecked, the present course would lead to their extinction as powers, perhaps extinction in literal terms as well. The chamber was packed with the greatest powers of neutrality — eighteen with actual deityhood, twice that number of quasideities and other personages. Gord and Gellor were informally greeted, and discussion began immediately. Champion and hero were at the very least regarded as peers of these great ones. Perhaps they were above all, at least for the time being.
The three Hierophants addressed Gord and Gellor initially. 'You have spent the interval well, we think' they stated in unison. The multitoned chorus sounded strange to Gord's ears even after hearing them speak thus so many times. 'Through the years you two have devoted yourselves to Nature, to the betterment of all,' the trio went on, directing the remark more toward the troubador than Gord, despite the fact that it was the latter who was championing their cause now. That seemed to make Gellor uncomfortable, but his comrade took no notice of the preferment shown. It was, after all, natural for the speakers to defer to the elder of the pair. 'Our gift of welcoming is that of the mind. Three powers each have you now — speech by thought, movement by mind of your body to any place you can imagine, and the ability to become mentally invisible so that no other mind can find yours.'
'Those are generous gifts, exalted ones. Gellor and I thank you,' Gord told the Hierophants as they looked first at the one-eyed bard, then directly at him.
Then came a series of other similar presentations. The affair was both a ceremony of elevation and a briefing and arming of a force being assigned to fight the enemy. The honors and powers were given to allow the two the
