by Gary Gygax
"Rest," Gellor said practically. "In the morning we'll see if we can't work out a plan that will succeed against so powerful a collection of enemies."
"We know one thing, at least " Chert said heavily.
"We do?" his young associate asked in surprise.
"Sure," the barbarian replied. "All those ores and losels and gnolls, and spell-casters too, means something certain, Gord. The Second Key must be with that collection of scum, or I'm a Medegian merchant's arse!"
Chapter 24
Night had fallen over the sprawling fastness of the Vesve Forest once again. The company of mixed humanoids pressed on in the darkness. The few humans within their ranks were allowed to march along the beaten path, with only occasional curses coming from them as they stumbled over tree roots and stepped upon one another in the blackness. Arboreal ores swarmed ahead in the treetops to make certain that no enemy lay in wait for the rest of the band. Fully three score had such duty, and woe to the one who lagged. Another twenty were strung out to either side, likewise brachiating as flank protection. In the center of the whole group were Obmi and his henchman Keak, well protected by tough humanoids and their powers, of course.
After the ambush and slaughter of so many of their rear scouts, Obmi had directed that the company of gnolls be placed under the command of a half-breed ore who had some small skill at spells of clerical sort and great ability with assassin's weapons. There was also another renegade elf, albeit not much of a spell-binder, now assisting Keak. Obmi saw to it that these two were in motion, up and down the line, frequently. Any further attack would be met with sharp retaliation. The loss of thirty of these scum didn't bother the dwarf a whit, but he disliked the reaction that Iuz would certainly have upon hearing the news. Obmi had reports from his outlaw woodsmen that there were no more than a half-dozen men involved in the attack upon his party. The fact that one or more of them was obviously a considerable foe was immaterial. Face had been lost by the dwarf, and with it came a lessening of Iuz's stature. Infinitesimal as this misfortune was, retribution would occur. Iuz's anger must fall somewhere…
The outlaw group moved more swiftly now, marching mostly by night and resting during the day. This allowed them to keep a better watch for those who followed and harassed, and it kept the scum too tired to fight amongst themselves at every halt too. Obmi was pleased with the arrangement.
In the twenty-four hours since he had slain the wild boars and then driven off the attacking men, Obmi had covered as many miles. Should there actually be a larger force than the handful the stupid scouts reported as having caused the trouble, then these enemies would have to run to keep up. Moving a mass of troops through this sort of terrain was slow work, and the dwarf cursed the fact that he had but a few hundred under his command. If he had thousands, he would not need to run as if chased by devils, while with only a score or two he could move much more swiftly. It almost seemed as if there was a plot to discomfit him. Had Obmi not understood the nature of the thing he carried to Iuz, he would, in fact, suspect the cambion of trying to be rid of him. At every turn in the path it seemed that another handful of humanoids joined his force, adding little to its real strength and slowing its progress disproportionately as they were fitted into the command in any hodgepodge fashion. Why couldn't he get some powerful spell-binders to augment this rag-tag regiment? With these, and a few ogres or trolls, he'd be able to get through the forest in speed and style!
"Rot your balls, Klabdul!" the dwarf shouted to the half-orc who rode near Keak. "Move your worthless butt ahead there and see what all that fuss is about — quick!" There was something happening in the trees ahead. Obmi's vision didn't extend that far, but the cries of the ape-ores and the noise told him that all was not well.
The half-orc priest went off immediately. Keak was giggling at the fear he'd seen in the fellow's ugly face. "Shut up, Keak! Stop that godsdamned cackling instantly!" roared Obmi.
The skinny elf snapped his mouth closed and looked at Obmi. "Master, as you wish," he intoned solemnly, then burst into a fresh torrent of high-pitched laughter.
"That's enough, you long-eared turd eater!" Obmi fumed. "You take your worthless elvish ass and get to the tail end of this gaggle of scum. If there's trouble ahead, it's probably a ruse. Any real attack will hit the rear. Be there and stop it if it comes, understand?"
"As if I'd thought of it myself, Lord Obmi," Keak called as he turned his horse and urged it along, yelling at hulking gnolls to clear a path for him or be castrated.
The column halted in confusion, and Obmi swore more loudly still. That must be Klabdul screwing around with the advance, the dwarf reckoned. There was no other reason, for the commotion in the trees had ceased, and no sounds of battle came from ahead. It was time to take a direct hand. Obmi got his mount moving, heading for the front of the confused band.
"What's the reason for this halt?" he demanded.
Klabdul materialized from behind a tree, an arboreal ape in tow. He bowed and said, "Pardon, lord, but I called it, for the losels had come down from the trees and were refusing to return."
"What? These miserable half-apes wouldn't dare such a thing! You there!" the dwarf said to the cowering creature held fast by the brutish priest-assassin. "Speak or die! Did you and your fellows do as this priest claims?"
Obmi spoke carefully in orcish, for these arboreal humanoids were more stupid than their cousins, if that was possible. Worse still, as simian as were the ores, these crossbreed ones were even more apelike, and their out-thrust jaws, baboonlike muzzles, and large canine teeth made their halting speech difficult to understand. Leave it to that perverted cambion to develop such a species as these so-called losels!
"Uh… uh… it killed Zhuf!" the ape-ore said, and it tried to grin to see if that would end the matter.
This was going to take a bit of time, Obmi realized. "What do you mean, 'it'? Tell me, what killed — "
"Zhuf!" the losel supplied.
"Bugger Zhuf!" the dwarf nearly screamed at the stupid creature. "What was it that killed him?"
"Duh… duh lion dat was in duh trees killed Zhuf, dat's what."
"Good!"
"Ain't good, Zhuf bein' chewed up like that," the losel countered, and then cringed when he saw Obmi point his hammer at him.
"Listen, you moronic mongrel," the dwarf spat without raising his voice. "Now, you tell me exactly what happened, and do it slowly and quickly. Otherwise, I will split your louse-ridden cranium, feed the small contents to those gnolls there, and ask another of your comrades to give me the information I require. You may begin now."
The losel couldn't understand half of what the terrible little dwarf said, but he understood the threat in Obmi's tone all too well. "Uh… wewuzgoin' 'longpretty easy-like. Nuttin'to see, no stuff to hurt us. Zhuf, he was duh furst ah us, so he's da one who sez, 'Lookout chums, dere's a lion!'
"Lions don't climb around in trees," Obmi interjected. "Did you actually see the animal?"
"Duh what?"
"The Hon! Go on with your report, you idiot!"
"Ah, sure ting, I seen da lion. It was a blackie, an' didn't have no mane. It was jes' sittin' an' lookin’ at us all. Den Zhuf, he flung his club al da lion and tried to jump back in where we wuz. Dat's when it got a holt a him an' chewed up ol' Zhuf inna big bite!"
"What did the rest of you do?" demanded the dwarf.
"Shit! Waddya 'spect? We pitched our clubs at da friggin' cat real good. Me, I hit 'im right on da schnozzle. Couple ah da boys, dey had dem funny li'l bows ya give 'em. Whang! Whang! Dey lets loose, an' da sticks fly right into da bassard's side like, only dey don't sink in. Jes' like da clubs, da arrahs ain't doin' no hurt to da lion…"
"So?"
"Dat big cat, he looks at us boys like we jus' patted his head. Den he opens his mout, all covered with Zhuf s blood, an' I saw da t'ing grin — scariest thing I ever seen! Den we got down from da trees, quick-like, an' none ah us goin' back 'til that cat's meat on da table!" Obmi struck the losel as h
ard as he could with the ensorcelled hammer. The blow sufficed to kill the stupid creature instantly, and it never knew what struck it. All the others were watching. He glared at these ape-ores from a visage filled with rage.
"There may or may not be some big cat — a leopard, probably — up there in the trees," he said threateningly. " But I am here; even you dimwitted monkeys can see that. I will certainly kill you all if you do not get back into those branches overhead and resume your work! You will move ahead, watch for enemies, and tell me if you see any. If there is a cat up there, you will slay it, or else I will have others do so. No matter. Now, get going!"
The losels bounded up into the branches quickly, and that was the end of it.
"Get going, the rest of you!" Obmi shouted. "You'll trot for the next hour to make up for the delay. Stragglers and laggards will be killed!"
A quarter of an hour passed, and then a new commotion occurred at the head of the company. The cause was the black leopard again, and this time Obmi had to use his hammer on two of the frightened arboreal ores before the rest could be forced back into the trees again. Now Obmi was certain that the creature was a were-cat of some sort. Knowing this, he called to the thin-faced elf to settle the matter.
"Keak, you are to take charge of the advance. Keep a close eye on what's going on above, for a were-leopard seems to be stalking the losels — bad taste in food habits, I'd say, but it is disrupting things inordinately. If the kitty shows its whiskers again, pluck them!"
Keak smiled at the prospect. "Any preference as to how I kill the thing?"
"Why should I care?"
The sticklike figure shrugged his narrow shoulders. "I thought you might like to have its hide for a saddle covering," Keak cackled, "but if it's no matter, I'll blast its balls off with a lightning bolt!"
"Bah! Just do it and be quiet."
When another disturbance came a half-hour later, Keak was there and ready. This Obmi knew, for a great flash and the sizzling crack of the stroke of blazing electricity gave clear evidence that the elven spell-caster had done just what he'd said. The dwarf smiled to himself and went ahead to view the body. A half-dozen charred losels were scattered on the ground, but there was no corpse of man nor body of cat.
"What occurred?" the dwarf asked with a calmness he did not feel.
Keak looked sick. "The bolt missed," he said through thin lips.
"These unfortunate apelings?" inquired Obmi mildly as he eyed the smoking remains of the losels.
"They were in the path of the stroke, or else in the tree, and took too much electricity and died," Keak replied with a wince as the dwarf stared unwinkingly at him. "That bastard cat is fast. Lord Obmi," the elven mage hastened to add. "It watched me stand near and begin my casting. Just as I loosed the stroke, it leaped away — vanished, possibly, I don't know. It is very smart and more than any were-beast I've ever seen, and you know I have slain my share!"
Obmi nodded at that and reslung his hammer. Keak did not make stupid errors like that without cause. Angry as he was, Obmi valued the elf too much to waste him for no purpose other than the satisfaction of frustrated ire. Too much, far too much, was at stake in this whole game for him to make foolish misjudgments or allow rage to blind him.
"See that the column is halted. Get sentries out. Make sure that we are as well protected as possible. When that's done, come back to me at once, dear Keak. You and I must work together on a plan to solve our problems."
The elf bowed and hurried off, relieved that Obmi bore him no malice for the failure. "Too bad," he mumbled to himself as he went. "Too bad the runt didn't have the balls to go after the black devil of a cat himself. Then he'd find out a thing or two. Hammer or no, that leopard would have a dwarf for dinner, and then I would be commander and bring the prize to Lord Iuz. What power I would have then…" Continuing to mull over this pleasant reflection, the elven renegade went about his duties.
In the hours just preceding dawn, Obmi and Keak worked out a plan of action. As they huddled in conference, there were several more incidents, but after a scream and the following commotion, the black killer went elsewhere to strike again. It didn't matter. The cat-creature seemed unwilling to come near the center of the party, and that meant that it was most certainly vulnerable to spell and weapon — at least, those enchanted weapons wielded by Obmi, Keak, and a few others of the officers of the motley collection of humanoids.
"Let us summon Klabdul, Phlug, and the gnollish captain… Harhaff, then."
"The name is Harharaff, Lord." Keak corrected the dwarf politely, being careful not to giggle. "I'll bring them here at once."
"You're certain this will work?" Obmi asked again.
"I see no flaw, Lord Obmi."
"Get them, then. Hurry!"
Chapter 25
"Meeowww!" said Chert.
Gord shot the hillman a dark scowl that threatened mayhem.
"It isn't funny, Chert. Stop it," the bard said, just managing to suppress a smile.
Gord looked at both men disdainfully. "What I managed was more than either or both of you could have done… besides, if you think it is a joke to creep through an encampment of towering humanoids as a little pussycat in order to overhear what's being said, you try it."
"We can't," the barbarian said with a broad grin of contentment. "As you yourself pointed out, only you can manage the trick!"
Thatch and his small companion, Shad, were sitting cross-legged nearby. They had listened solemnly to the tale of Gord's using the ring to take cat-form. They were frightened by were-creatures of any sort, the very thought making them shudder. Yet this man who told them about turning into a huge, black leopard and killing losels thereby was a friend — and losels were awful things, too! They could only listen and withhold judgment. It seemed there was a whole lot more to the world than Tusham village and being successful hunters! Both lads listened carefully, not only because the story was exciting and full of danger, but because they wanted some clue about the treasure. So far they had seen more of trouble with evil humanoids and the like than folk were ever expected to. The rewards must be really terrific for these men to go through all this sort of danger just to get the key. What would the dragon be like? Thatch looked at Shad, and Shad stared back for a moment. There was an unspoken exchange then, both boys wishing that they hadn't decided to set out into the forest as hunters quite so soon.
"That foul little dwarf is a wily one," Gellor said. "If he has done as he said, we must either separate or find a way to get rid of the gnolls quickly."
"Pardon, Master Gellor, but what are gnolls?" Thatch asked.
Chert answered before the bard could speak. "Nasty, dog-faced things as big as I am. They're mean killers, too, and would cheerfully roast you two over a fire."
"That, boys," Gellor added, "is no exaggeration, and they'd eat you too, after they were done. AH that as it is, we'll see to it that you never have to face any gnolls until you're able to deal with them on terms they find not to their liking."
"Like Master Gord did to the losels?" Shad said eagerly.
Gord was somber. "You'd not like that much, Shad. Gellor means that when you're grown fully, trained to fight properly, and have armor and all, you and Thatch there will be more than a match for a pair of gnolls."
The boys sat back, feeling bigger and more confident.
"What's to be done, then?" asked the bard, looking at Gord.
There had been a subtle change in roles, the young man noted. Over the time he had known Gellor, the one-eyed man had been many things to him — fatherlike, a mentor, a leader, a rescuer, and more. The shift had occurred subtly, all right, but it was distinct. Not only was Gellor now treating him as an equal, but at times the bard was deferring to Gord almost as if the young thief were a superior! This was a bit disturbing, but there was no time for pondering the matter now.
"We move ahead," said Gord, "and if we find the band of gnolls spread out in our path, you four turn back a ways and stay put. I'll get by them wit
hout difficulty, and catch up with Obmi and his filthy train of scum — they'll be deserting the damned dwarf now, not flocking to him. Somewhere along the trail, somehow, I will get the chance to kill that miserable dastard and gel the Second Key," the thief said vehemently. "I'm certain it is on his twisted body somewhere, and I'll tear him apart to find it."
"Let's get going," Chert said practically. "Listen now, my boys. Here's what you two are to do if we meet any of these half-human scum and there is no way for you to get away. Hold your spears before you, thus…" and he went on with his instructions as their small group headed for the hard-beaten pathway leading toward the north and the realm of the demoniac Iuz.
"They're ahead, all right," Chert muttered as he slipped back to join his friends. He had gone ahead on the path to see if Gord's recounting of the conversation overheard as a small, midnight-black tomcat had been correct. It was. Gord had said that Obmi had ordered the gnoll captain, a huge monster named Harharaff, to remain behind to prevent any enemy from following, while the remainder of the force went northward as before. Gord said that the gnoll leader had seemed almost relieved to be given such duty, for the fear of the predatory killer of losels was spreading from ores to gnolls.
Gord nodded. "This is where we part company, then."
"Maybe if I picked off a few of those flea-bag bastards, the rest would take off," Chert said halfheartedly.
"That would not serve, my friend, so why risk it?" Gellor said softly.
Gord shook the hands of the others — Chert, the bard, Thatch, and then little Shad. "You kill some for me!" the boy said earnestly, and they all laughed.
Without further ado, Gord left. He went on foot, carrying his weapons and little else. The forest would provide for him. When the dwarf had begun to move at night, they thought they had lost the game. Chert was unable to see to travel and fight in darkness, for he had no magical sight as did his adult comrades. The lads needed tending. Something had to be found to slow, if not halt, the humanoid band that surrounded and protected the dwarf and his prize. Then Gord had decided to experiment.