Chapter 3
It was a black vortex filled with motes of disgusting colors. The motion of the bilious green, rotten gray, putrescent yellow, and livid violet glows as they whirled and mixed with a riot of ineffable motes of other hues, was sufficient to sicken the viewer. Intestines churned in nauseous counterpoint to the evolutions of those vile-colored little gleams as they surfaced and sank within the growing maelstrom. The sight of that, the terrible wrongness of it all, caused brains to ache, thoughts to turn inward in a desperate desire to escape. Wrenching gut joined wracked brain in denial of it all. Still the vortex grew, intensified, and became omnipresent. Then the sounds reached out, and with them came the indescribable odors. It was too much for any normal mind to bear.
'Is. . this. .'
'The Abyss? Yes. Exactly as pictured for me by the Hierophants,' Gord said. With a great deal of effort, he managed to speak to Gellor without choking on the gorge that was rising in his throat.
Gellor swallowed hard and with crabbed fingers managed to pull his leather eye patch down to cover the enchanted gem that served as his left eye. 'Your energy is greater than mine, Gord, or else your constitution is stronger. Either way, I can’t view the place through the ocular. Too much can be seen that way.'
'Not likely, you old wolf!' Gord countered, squeezing his comrade's shoulder in a gesture of both sharing and reassurance. Gord, as the champion of Balance, had been imbued with a deep and lasting vitality from many supernatural sources. In all, however, the one-eyed troubador was his equal. Gellor too had received energies, been gifted with power, and granted strength beyond the ken of mortals. 'I'd wager it's the perspective, not the prospect, which so disconcerts you.'
That remark, meant in Jest but taken more seriously, gave Gellor pause. Gord obviously referred to their situation and status. Always in the past it had been the bard who knew more, discovered more, and was in charge. Gord had been like an apprentice, a wayward nephew, then almost a protege. Now the roles were reversed, and Gellor accompanied his young friend as a lieutenant. Gord shared information, but there were certain things Gellor was not privy to, despite that. That circumstance existed because of the responsibility the young man bore, and because Gord must bear it, not because Gord desired to surpass his friend or to dominate him. 'Perhaps you do see things better than I,' Gellor finally said as the spinning vortex loomed to fill the whole of their universe. 'I am unused to reliance on another, albeit even a minor dependence and from a bosom companion.'
'This is a fearsome thing we do,' Gord said. 'Who can feel anything but dread when confronting the mouth of the Abyss?'
'It is like no other plane,' Gellor said with a choked voice. 'You have walked in Shadow, dwelled on the sphere of the Catlord, and sojourned in aether and astrality; but this. .'
'Don't forget I've brushed the interlinked planes of the elements, Gellor — even seen the fuicrum of positive and negative, sailed upon the vast Ocean of Thought.'
The grizzled troubador nodded vigorously at that. 'None of which could have prepared you for. . this!' he nearly shouted, waving wildly to indicate the now all-encompassing expanse of the first tier of the chaotic evil sphere known as the Abyss, the realm of all demonkind. 'I have in my time had to deal with the charnel vistas of Acheron, and seek certain objects in the riotous horror of Pandemonium. Not even those places prepared me for what we now must face!'
'Face? More than that, dear friend, more! We are to enter, traverse, and make this place our own,'
Gord said with a grim smile.
After being armed, armored, and equipped with all that the masters of neutrality could provide, he and the bard had simultaneously touched the intricately worked buckles of their girdles. Each buckle was imbued with those dweomers that enabled the two to traverse the infinity of places that constitutes the cosmos, the endless spheres of the multiverse. Each device was rune-worked, sigil-covered, studded, and bore a spiderweb tracery of marks in strange and rare metals. A touch and a thought; then Gord and Gellor were no longer in the realm of Rexfelis, master of all felines. One moment there was the assembly of the Lords of Balance; the next instant, Gord and his companion were elsewhere.
In the pearlescent twilight of the Aethereal Plane, Gord and Gellor fairly glowed with the strength of their internal powers, while the many magical items each bore radiated intense auras of their own. When Gellor remarked on the rather obvious locating and identifying effect coming from this emanation of dweomer, that caused Gord to consider cloaking both of them. By merely concentrating on his own amulet, a device that screened its wearer from magical locating and spying, the young champion was able to determine what needed to be done. By mentally weaving a screen of force to close in the radiations, by bending some forces and by altering others, he was able to dim the aura around them.
'How's that?' Gord had asked his companion as the two strode along the glowing gray path that their senses interpreted for them as the environment of the place. In truth, human senses, even many supernatural ones, could not properly interpret the aethereal realm as it was in actuality.
'Better,' Gellor replied as he stopped and gazed first at the young thief, then at himself. 'Less than beacons, now, we two, but bright still. I think we will bring attention to ourselves despite your best efforts, Gord.'
Gellor's young companion shook his dark head. 'Normally I would agree with you, but look at the distortion just in the near distance. See the paling of colors? The dimming of light?'
'Yes,' Gellor admitted, having studied all that surrounded them for the space of many heartbeats. 'There is something wrong. …'
Gord shrugged. 'Wrong? Perhaps, perhaps not. But there is something unnatural to this plane. It seems to screen us from it — it from us, too. Were Basiliv extant in the world I'd think he had managed it, but with the Demiurge passed elsewhere, I think we are being cloaked by another agency.'
'So which force aids us?' Gellor asked uncertainly.
'The one of Entropy,' Gord replied flatly. 'And I don't believe that one interposes for our real benefit.'
'So?'
'So we forge onward,' the champion of neutrality said, shooting the troubador a hard smile. 'I plan nothing good for such a thing as it is, either; that makes us even. . once the greatest of evils is dealt with!'
Gellor shook his head, wondering if Gord was suddenly overcome with a hubris brought on by the infusion of power he had been granted. Yet he said nothing further and followed Gord's lead. There were whorls and streamers of various hues evident in the milky nebulousness of the aether. Where these colors were most intense they went, passing through the fringes of the elemental spheres to gain the manifold branches and loops of the Plane of Probability. In all time and none at all the two heroes traversed the elemental planes and probability's sphere and could thus pass onto the astral realm. It was as if they suddenly stepped into the center of an infinite bubble. There was nothing supporting them, yet their feet were firmly planted. Above them the cosmos grew bright and brilliant, while beneath their armored feet spread gloom of somber and ugly hues. Gellor gestured toward a well of inky darkness.
The Abyss,' Gord agreed. 'Let us hurry.'
That is how the pair came to the insanity-provoking maelstrom that now surrounded them, moments before Gord had said they had to face and conquer the many strata of the realm of demonkind. When he heard his friend speak thus, Gellor commented, 'No two can ever subjugate such a madness as this place, Gord. Not if we had every atom of energy of every deify opposed to the demons!'
That's no more than the simple truth,' the young thief agreed with a smile of encouragement. 'When I said we must make this place our own I meant we would venture through it, dispossess those opposed to our purposes, and bend the others to our will. Never would any but those of netherspawn dream of actually possessing this vile agglomeration of forsaken planes!'
The grizzled bard had to chuckle at that 'Thinking aloud, as it were, has definite disadvantages now that both of us employ mind speech, mind search. Instant thoughts allow no modification through reflection in the course of articulation of the basic ideas. We are both being too literal, too serious.'
'I get your point. This is a serious business, yet we must keep our good humor, uplifted spirit, the sense of true reality in the multiverse. If we dwell too much on the abyssal realms, both of us will surely lose perspective — even sanity.'
