by Gary Gygax
He might have been a useful servant of Tharizdun's. That the darkest noted in studying the sordid history of the one called Gord. Well, there was no turning him around now, and his disgusting principles warped the drow priestess too, so that the clone grew apart from its true form. Ah, were but Eclavdra the one assisting the champion, she would have stung him as a scorpion! The many scenes involving Gord, Leda, Gellor too, all had been replayed by the archfiend as he wielded his arcane dweomers.
"I know my enemies now," he reassured himself. The troubador had always been tainted with wealsome ethic, beliefs that were weak and unselfish. That one could be forgotten,despite his nasty little harp. Gellor and Leda, supernormal now, but hardly above human capability if stripped of magical bolstering. Imbued or otherwise, he could handle the pair easily enough.
In combination with Gord, the matter became more problematic. Especially since the three now bore the tokens left for just such purpose by the elders of Light. Were they separable? If so, then it would be a swatting of butterflies. Put such happy prospects aside, though. What strength did the three mortals, with their rings, constitute?
The three had improved wisdom, reasoning, senses. Two to guard the flanks of the champion, Gord armed with Courflamme, the single weapon capable of actually ending Tharizdun's existence. The little turd also kept the boy's head too! Was there more? Yes ... it was coming forth as the archfiend bent his will to the problem. Unknown agencies seemed to lend their assistance, but that help was . . puny and nonvital. Fortune was to smile upon them — no matter, Tharizdun took no chances, not any more, and he always stacked the tiles so that there were no odds in favor of his opponents.
Again, the tempo of whatever occurred would beat at a pace useful to those three. But yet again it was a matter of small consequence. The archfiend would commence the hunt only when he was ready. Until then he would stay in his now unassailable realm in the netherspheres. With time favoring him, there accrued no advantage to the foes if it briefly surged in their direction.
"Only the sword remains. If I can negate the power of Courflamme, I can win without effort!" Time passed as Tharizdun contemplated that. mulling over the whole of the history of the sword. Then it came to him in a flash that was inspired. "It is of Balance, and the culmination of the ethos, the forces op that sphere's energy, are of mundane being where all others meet. Courflamme is agathokakological, a tool of Good and Evil forced in the gray neutrality of Balance. Now I have the final strategy."
Tharizdun paused in his contemplations and gave vent to uncontrolled peals of mirth, laughter so malign that its echoes rolled beyond the precincts of even so monstrous a hall as he sat in, and the whole of the netherworld trembled at the sound. "Let plodding master Entropy place his pall upon all he can to hinder you, gord the champion. I will use my yeth to hound you throughout the cosmos, and but one little hole will seem to be a place of safety. as hares you and your comrades will run into it, and there I'll wait. Never has there been a tool made which cannot be unmade, and I have the force which fashioned Courflamme there in the hidey-hole. It will be beaten into nothingness on the forge which formed it, and then you are mine!"
The wave of triumphant power that followed on the heels of that shouted proclamation also washed beyond the hall. At its passing, all the denizens of the dark planes were made stronger and exulted in the vileness of the energy. Now they were glad they were slaves of the greatest master Evil had ever spawned.
Chapter 20
DARK HORDES ROLLED ACROSS DEMONIUM in a wave. Composed of millions of indIvidual soldiers, the wave performed as if It was a single entity. In a hundred places it lapped around a fortress, each such stronghold then becoming an island in a hostile and stormy sea. Everywhere else, save one single continentlike mass, was inundated by the army of Tharizdun. One after another the small islands of demonic resistance fell to the rising tlde of the Ultimate Evil's hordes as more and more spawn of the other netherspheres were sent to fight the rebellious inhabitants of the Abyss. The smallest strongholds fell initially, of course, where some petty lord of a minor race of demons tried vainly to defy Tharizdun's overlordship. The Master of All Evil would brook no such independence, and each victory brought a horrible example of the fate that any who defied him would suffer. Yet surprisingly, most of the demons were not cowed by the cruelty or the monstrous things that befell the defenders after being overwhelmed by the invading forces.
Perhaps it was not actually surprising when the nature of demonium was considered. After all, what lord of the Abyss wouldn't do the same? What demon would ever forgive defiance? Once committed to opposition, there was no alternative course, no peace ever to be made, no amnesty that would be granted. The ethos of Evil allowed only victory, and the term "vanquished" was synonymous with "exterminated." For every demon slain by the hordes under Tharizdun's banner, a score of the attackers were destroyed. Had not a quarter of the force been drawn from the Abyss itself, where a portion of the demonlords had bowed to the darkest force, then perhaps the invasion might have taken far, far longer to achieve appreciable results, make great inroads on the hundreds of planes that were demonkind's.
Tharizdun cared little about losses. Devils, daemons, maelvis, or any other of the dozen malign races under his command were but implements to be used, discarded if blunted or broken, and new ones obtained. Not that the Master of Malevolence would denude the whole of the netherspheres with such equanimity. Indeed, he needed many subjects to cany out his commands, see to his desires, and for the dutles of maintaining oppression there and elsewhere soon enough. In order to become absolute master of the cosmos, Tharizdun had first to rule all of the lower spheres. He had no option but to subjugate the Abyss before he could turn his attention elsewhere. Demons, certainly the most vicious enemies of all opposed to Evil, were thus serving the multiverse without knowing or caring that they aided all of Weal and nonwicked dlsposition.
Tharizdun understood all too well what was occurring and raged at it. Unthinkable in any circumstance, the great war in demonium was doubly disturbing. As he sought to complete his base of power, Tharizdun had to contemplate the fact that a deadly and implacable antagonist also waited somewhere to strike. Gord, Champion of Balance, had the wherewithal to slay the greatest evil ever spawned. Let the worthless troops die in their thousands, for time now seemed to be working against Tharizdun. Edgy, always on guard against sudden assault by his foe, Tharizdun himself rode through the Abyss on the back of a three-headed fired rake. He was there to spur his hordes to greater fury in their assaults; besides, there was greater safety for him when surrounded by such troops.
The cacodemon marches of Pandemonium, where demonkin and chimeras held sway, were as difficult to subdue as demonium itself, but the sheer weight of the attacking forces Tharizdun brought to bear managed the task with rapidity, for there were no great fortresses and mighty leaders to command as there were in the Abyss. After but a period of six of Oerth's days, the Ultimate One of Evil could point to all of Pandemonium as conquered territory, and view a map of the many tiers of the Abyss that showed but a score of little islands remaining resistance. But there was one blot to reckon with, too. It was Ojukalazogadit.
Ojukalazogadit! A great stratum unto itself. The greatest of demon brutes, too. The monstrous thing was a being, perhaps even a demonking of sorts, although its only subject was itself. Ojukalazogadit could send forth portions of itself. Not a few, not a thousand. The brute demon could create a field a force of legions that were but bits of its being. Dim, demented, Ojukalazogadit the unconquerable.
During the course of the earlier wars in the Abyss, when the daemon Infestix had rallied a coalition of enemies against the would-be emperor of all demonium. Graz'zt the brute demon had served as battlefield and warrior both. With the help of it Graz'zt had almost triumphed, and through its assistance, the ebon demonking had been able to withdraw to safety after defeat there. In its madness, the thing had certainly devoured many of the force it had allied with, but only
a tithe of the number of the opposing horde that its suddenly opening mouths and rampaging portions slew and absorbed.
Now the living layer of the Abyss served as a citadel for the beleaguered demons. Graz'zt and all his remaining subjects, Elazalag and the Abat-dolor, and whatever others of the lords of demonium who could manage it retreated to the fastness of Ojukalazogadit and waited. With them they brought their arms, treasures, and herds of demon-beasts. Whether it was the feeding upon elephantine kine or the dim realization that doom threatened it, Ojukalazogadit refrained from wanton predation upon those refugees making their last stand upon it. Perhaps after the last morsel of the ferocious flocks and hideous herds of things that demons kept as would a man tend sheep and cattle, then the demon brute would devour warrior and lord in refuge. Now, the being sent forth the masses of its chimerical body to combat the dreggals and cacodaemons who tried to advance onto Ojukalazogadit's surface. They, along with turncoat demons, devils, maelvis, dumalduns, and the others of Tharizdun's millions were greedily eaten by the rampaging excretions that served to defend the brute and its refugees. Oddly then, as the Abyss was torn, weakened, and devastated, the gross stratum battened and grew stronger.
Because of this, also because of the last isolated pockets of resistance were those citadels commanded by the greatest of demons, the survivors of the sudden assault upon the Abyss broke out and moved toward the vast place that was the demon brute Ojukalazogadit. Distracted by his contemplation of the Champion of Balance, immersed in the creation of his yeth hounds. Tharizdun saw what was occurring almost too late. When he did finally take note of the movement, the Master of Malevolence drove his forces with relentless fury. The small groups of embattled demons were hunted, exterminated at times, and always decimated. Many of them survived nonetheless, and the resistance grew on the three hundred and sixty-sixth tier of the Abyss, the stratum of the demon brute, the layer that was Ojukalazogadit.
"Entropy! The fools have played into my hands," Tharizdun cried. "If you are to gain your reward, it is now time for you to truly earn it. Place your inertial weight upon the dim-witted brute. Bring it to senility and decay! Then I will finish the pitiful remainder easily."
"First, dark lord, you must assault the lesser ones massed upon the bulk of the thing. The numbers of those assisting the creature must be thinned." It was untrue, of course. The entity could have done whatever he wished then and there. Entropy cared not at all if Tharizdun knew the truth of the situation. Entropy would have more. Extermination, extlnction, and decay were all it cared for.
"You will do what I command! Now! Now!" Tharizdun railed.
Blithely the Lord of Entropy droned, "Yes, Ultimate Evil, as soon as your hordes have assailed the rebellious demons as I mentioned. Just after that will I obey your great command."
"I will not undertake such an assault, fool!" Tharizdun thundered. "We will sit and starve them out if need be."
Although there was no means of the darkest one's detecting it, that did make the entity rethink its strategy. If by chance Tharizdun was defeated by the champion, Gord, then all of Entropy's hopes for rule of the multiverse were dashed for a billion years, perhaps a billion decades. "I will gather myself and attack the demon brute, Tharizdun, but if I am to do so, your troops must simultaneously fall upon the others there. It will be a mass assault, or I will abandon your cause. What care I If you or the Champion of Balance prevails, if both are heedless of my wishes?"
Snarling, devising terrible tortures for the entity should he ever find a way to bring it into substance, Tharizdun protested long, but eventually gave in. "Sweet-smelling vibrancy! Who do you believe is to rule all? Who, I ask — you?" Entropy was silent, knowing what he knew. "Very well, leaden lump, I agree to your terms. I will order a massed advance onto ojukalazogadit the moment your inertial force is observable by me. When I see the ponderous pressure of your being bringing doom to the life force of the brute-thing, then will my millions of warriors attack unrelentingly. they will have orders not to cease their assaults until the last demon who dared to defy my sovereignty is annihilated."
"Excellent, Greatest of Fiends. You are truly the archfiend fit to rule the whole of the netherspheres,"
Entropy boomed in monotonous gratification. At the end of such a battle there would not be one demon in ten left to roam the Abyss. The legions of the hells would be gone, as well as the majority of all of the other inhabitants of the other nether realms too. That made the entity recall something else. "And your pack is it ready?"
"Oh, yes," Tharizdun said, rubbing his hands in anticipation, almost forgetting the other, more important matters at hand. "It is all but complete, and I feed its yeth constantly with the energies of those who were their fellows. each will be strong, full op insane fury, ready!" A fire sprang into the archfiend's eyes. "After they hunt down the fob, Gord, I will loose them on the mortal worlds. They need souls to sustain their vigor!"
Had Entropy been able, the entity would have laughed, cheered, even caroled a merry ditty at that prospect it was not in its makeup, so it responded by stating, "I now will begin the work of bearing down Ojukalazogadit into extinction," and his presence vanished from Tharizdun's ken. Entropy was foreseeing a cosmos depopulated, suns dwindling to cold lumps, motion slowed, life waning ever more rapidly.
Unnatural or not Entropy did cause a sound to emanate from itself as it went about the work promised. It was as if a winter wind shrieked across great stone chimneys, sounding them as organ pipes in a minor key so bass as to be nearly inaudible. But it was a dirge of sustained notes and coming doom that Entropy felt quite pleased with.
* * *
"The whole of our wisdom is exhausted," Proctor Chronos announced. "Yet in all, I believe we have devised a plan which will confound your foe."
"That is so," agreed Lady Tolerance. "It is a simple and direct course of action which will lay Tharizdun by his heels."
"And thwart the meddling nihilist as well!" the ancient Master of Time asserted.
Gord and his two companions stood up, relieved. "Let us set to it," the young champion said with vigor. "The enemy must grow ever more deadly as he gains ground."
The Mistress of Probability hesitated, casting her peer a sidelong glance. "Well..."
"Lady Tolerance is about to say that if your 'us' means you three, then well and good. Do not include her or me in your calculations," Proctor Chronos informed them.
"You have nothing other than a plan to give us?" The angry query sprang from Leda.
"This is intolerable," Gellor fairly snapped.
Gord remained calmer. "Your words are not encouraging up to this point, honored beings. Will you be so kind as to enlighten us three?"
"Of course. I sympathize with you, my dears," Lady Tolerance said. "I fully understand your view and your want. The Proctor is better at being direct, so he shall say what needs be said."
"The reemergence of the chief one of Evil has closed off this universe, heroes, from the remainder of the cosmos. Its gates have been slammed shut and barred fast. We must look only to the resources at hand. Is that much clear?" The Master of Time waited for assent or questions. Evidently, all three of them understood that only the spheres of existence that formed their own particular universe were now open to them — and to Tharizdun. They had no questions.
This neither strengthens or weakens either party, although it does limit options. Ravages beyond this pale are not permitted, nor can aid or refuge be found anywhere else either. When one faction or the other triumphs, then no force known can keep the many portals held shut The bounds are thus established for the battle."
"Tharizdun? Entropy? What of them?"
Proctor Chronos seemed annoyed at the interruption. "Let me go about this in an orderly fashion, one point at a time. As the Champion of Balance, you and your two associates have your greatest strength in the material realms and those that form them — the elements, shadow, thought, and all that lot. We two are only marginally involved in those places, f
or our concerns extend to so many other spheres and farflung locales.
"Tharizdun seeks to rule the cosmos. He must begin in this universe, just as he has. First he masters the nether realms, then captures the inner spheres, then assails the spheres of highest sort. That accomplished, the flood of his wickedness may extend well out into the multiverse. Then are Lady Tolerance and I somewhat constrained.
"Entropy rides the archfiend's coattails as a flea on a dog's tail. That flea grows greater, though, and soon after Tharizdun succeeded in his evil aspirations, it would become a mammoth crushing the host into extinction. Then would both time and probability cease to exist. Thus we are both very much desirous that you, Gord the Champion, Gellor, and Leda as well, should emerge the victors in the contest.
Tharizdun and that dull lump. Entropy, even now seek to complete the next step of the whole. They are near to conquering the whole of demonium. That is the nexus of the plan."
Tharizdun's taking of the Abyss?"
"No, his failure to do so!" Proctor Chronos boomed. "I will see that the three of you have time to gain the place where the decisive battle is being fought. Lady Tolerance guarantees you the chance of success. Go to the lair of the thing called Ojukalazogadit. There all the remaining demons who oppose Tharizdun are gathered in a final stand."
They are hated foes, we theirs!" Leda exclaimed. That is suicide. Do you seek to aid Evil and the Lord Entropy?"
"Better to prepare a ground of our choosing, Gord, and await the coming of our enemies to a place where we know — one not spilling over with adversaries," Gellor advised with no attempt to hide the anger and scorn in his voice. The bard was plainly critical of both of the beings.
Gord was uncertain. He looked at Leda, Gellor, then at Lady Tolerance and Proctor Chronos. "What my friends say is very apt reasoning. The demons would gladly rend us to bits for loosing Tharizdun, let alone slaying many of them beforehand. Having a choice of battleground is also much to the advantage of the defender, I think. What say you to that?"