Queen of the Demonweb Pits (greyhawk)

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Queen of the Demonweb Pits (greyhawk) Page 23

by Paul Kidd


  Morag hung her head. All six hands clenched tight. "Yes."

  "Hoopy. Well, girl to girl, I'm glad to help." Escalla waggled her little bare feet. "So tell me: How do we get Lolth? What's the secret?"

  "I can't tell you. Not… not directly."

  "Hints are fine." Escalla lounged on the tabletop. "Shoot!"

  Morag slithered from her chair. She gathered files and folders, checked the set of her curved swords, and tugged her skirt down straight. She headed for a door, then paused to speak into thin air.

  "When thinking of Lolth, remember this: Power breeds superiority. Superiority breeds contempt. Contempt breeds a need to control." The tanar'ri exited through a door, her beautiful coils shimmering as she moved. "I believe it was Saint Cuthbert who said, 'Evil is a stain. The darker the evil, the more pure the waters must be to wash it clean.' "

  Morag swept majestically out of the room. "The ship is powering up. We leave for the Flanaess within the hour."

  The door closed with a bang, and Escalla sat up, scowling.

  "Actually, I was hoping more for something on the lines of 'Two doors on the left, her bedroom's just great! You can ambush her there. Lolth goes shut-eye at eight.' " The girl shrugged. "Ah, well…"

  "It could have been worse." The Justicar came over to Escalla's side to examine the desk. "It could have been a poem."

  Polk shambled forward, his belt fur dragging. "It should have been a poem, damn it! Don't that snake know anything about adventuring? It should have been a rede!"

  Escalla recoiled. "A reed? What? Like a bull rush?"

  "No, a rede, girl! A rede! A saying! A phrase put into rhyme so it won't be forgotten!"

  "The Flanaess has been literate for a couple of thousand years now, Polk. Some might think rote-learning is a tad old fashioned." Escalla was happily poking about in the desk. "Huh! What do you know? Some old decorator's plans for the palace. They even wrote in the titles of the rooms so workmen knew what furniture went where." The girl flipped out the map. "Morag is so careless. This should have been filed!"

  The spider palace was laid out in a series of decks-engine rooms in the belly, a control room in the head. The rest of the place seemed to be palatial audience chambers, throne rooms, and guards quarters. Perfectly able to read any language ever written or devised, Enid took charge of the charts, smoothing them flat upon the floor. One big lion claw traced scribbles in the tanar'ri script written over some of the rooms.

  "Let me see. The private chambers are right at the very top. Handmaiden chambers, guard chambers…" The sphinx gave a pretty scowl. "What exactly are we looking for?"

  "Lolth." The Justicar's hand scratched as it ran over the stubble of his chin. He pondered Morag's words carefully and thoroughly. "Superiority breeds contempt. Contempt breeds a need to control…"

  "Easy!" Escalla was changing entries in Lolth's appointment book, booking up her lunchtimes for the next seventeen years. "Contempt! She's a goddess. She won't see us as a threat, so if we challenge her, we can draw her into a trap! You know-slap Enid's stun symbol over a door, then I moon Lolth and we beat her when she runs through the door and gets hit by the spell!"

  With a sigh, the Justicar regarded the faerie. "Lolth's magic resistant."

  "Well… then we attack from behind the door!" Escalla shadowboxed back and forth between the legs and tails of her friends. "We bind her in the magic rope, use a silence spell to stop her casting magic, and give her the fist-beating of a lifetime!" The faerie was overjoyed. "This is gonna be simpler than I thought! Hey, Cinders! Fetch!"

  She threw a pencil. All eyes followed it as it clinked onto the floor and rolled. Cinders wag-wag-wagged his tail, his teeth gleaming in the overhead lights.

  What?

  Everyone looked wearily at the faerie. Escalla shrugged.

  "I'm lookin' for an instinctive reaction. I'm gonna sneak it up on him!" The faerie slapped Jus on the shoulder. "All right, big J! Got a route? Let's go!"

  The Justicar was not yet ready to move. He stood over the map, one hand resting on Enid's warm shoulder as he looked down at the diagrams.

  "Wash away evil. Wash it clean…?" The Justicar tapped Benelux's wolf-skull pommel. "It's a clue. Enid, you're our riddle consultant. Any ideas?"

  "Um, not really. Unless the washing-thing is a clue to a room we should use?"

  Jus scratched the stubble of his chin. "Is there a bath house on the map?"

  "There's this!" The sphinx carefully read Morag's beautiful round handwriting. "It says, 'Black Dragon Lair. Please grout tiles properly.' "

  "That's not it." The ranger heaved a frustrated sigh. "Escalla? Henry? Any ideas?"

  Henry could only shrug helplessly. Escalla merely cocked her frost wand and stuck her lich staff through her belt like a dagger.

  "We'll keep an eye out as we go. What's to worry? You're all stoneskinned up, we have a map, and the faerie's taking point! What could possibly go wrong?"

  They moved onward into the palace, and Enid leaned closer to Henry as they walked. "Henry, I get such a shiver down my spine whenever she says that."

  "Absolutely."

  Inside the palace were Lolth's private quarters-her treasury, audience chambers, and carefully prepared lines of defense. She would have long ago planned her retreat and her tactics in case of invasion. The Justicar looked at his map then chose a door. Above him, Cinders looked slyly left and right and made a happy growl.

  We go find spider lady?

  "No. No, we make the spider lady come to us."

  Burn spiders! Wheee!

  Cinders's grin turned to the palace above, and the party walked into the spider's lair.

  Lolth stood in the center of her audience chamber, arranging one of her nasty little triumphs of ingenuity. The floor was a dead, leaden gray, made from quicksand gathered from the swamps of the Abyss. Lolth had a secret bridge running across the floor, hidden an inch or two beneath the sand. Anyone crossing the floor without knowledge of the secret path would end up dead and drowned! The goddess watched her giants bring in the last buckets of quicksand, and she flicked out her long hair in glee.

  "Excellent."

  A door opened, and Morag cruised serenely into the chamber. She saw the arrangements and flipped open a notebook, jotting down an estimate of the costs. Lolth saw her at work and raised a droll little smile.

  "Morag! How good of you to join us at last. All your little files and folders stowed away?"

  "Yes, Magnificence."

  "Ah." The spider goddess walked the length of her hidden bridge. The aura about her made the air crackle with power. "Have you seen any intruders, Morag?"

  Morag tucked her pen behind one ear. "I have seen no intruders, Magnificence."

  "Yes." The goddess stood, held her arms outstretched, and horrible amorphous handmaidens oozed from under a door and removed their mistress's lounging clothes. Lolth allowed herself to be accoutered for war. Her handmaidens stripped her naked-all except for the delicately engraved gems she always wore about her neck. "Yes, Morag. Still, I have a little inkling that something might be wrong. Have you any thoughts upon that matter?"

  "Your intuition is divine, Magnificence." The secretary flipped open her notebook. "I will rouse the palace guards and have them begin an immediate search. The webs, the palace, the boulder fields. It will delay our departure for at least two hours."

  "No delays!" The goddess whirled, scornful and magnificent. "We will return to the Flanaess! I have to renew the spells that bind my armies. Have you any idea what those fools will be doing without my genius to guide them?" Lolth shoved her handmaidens aside and strode along the rim of her quicksand pool. "I can't trust any of you idiots to do anything right. How long until we leave?"

  The secretary coolly pulled out a little timepiece-hand-crafted modron work that she greatly admired. "Thirty minutes, Magnificence. Web fluid is still being loaded into the palace tanks. We still have only three boilers on line."

  "Tell them to hurry!"

&nb
sp; "I will tell them, Magnificence." Morag closed her book. "But we may find that water will only heat so fast. There are laws of physics in operation, even here."

  Lolth stabbed a look of pure calculation at Morag. The goddess tapped at the gems hanging from her neck.

  "There is something very un-tanar'ri about you, Morag."

  "Yes, Magnificence." The secretary proudly settled her swords and pens. "That is why you enslaved me."

  Lolth whirled. She looked at her quicksand floor in satisfaction and folded her hands.

  "Yes. And you toil so very well. Dear, dull, drab, beige little creature that you are. But if you can shapechange, I do wish you'd at least make a pretense of a proper bosom. You really do tend to bring the team down." Lolth allowed the last of her own new clothes to be fixed into place-covering her own plush bosom in a thin net of spider web. "Stuck here for half an hour! I am annoyed, Morag. I wanted to be on my way ages ago. Today I hear nothing but delay delay delay!" The goddess immodestly hitched the thong of her garments. "Well, we shall be here for an hour, then. We shall make the best of it. Morag, are there enough demon vassals still here for me to be depraved?"

  "I am sure you'll find a way, Magnificence." Morag acidly took notes. "Will that be all?"

  "Oh, yes, Morag. Quite all." Lolth waggled her hand. "Off off off! Go on! Slither back to your little hutch and start totting up things. You can at least be useful if you can't manage to be ornamental. Off!"

  Morag slid silkily away and closed the door behind her. Lolth signed imperiously to a handmaiden, who opened up a door. Lolth turned and looked into the space beyond and gave a sly, evil little smile.

  "Yes. We all have our little secrets." The goddess walked past the figure standing silently in her hall-a nightmarish shape of rotted flesh, dry skin, and bone, wearing an eagle fashioned helm and tarnished armor. "I have a plan for dealing with intruders, so be careful of the traps, my dear. But do please make yourself at home."

  24

  Pressed flat against a wall, the Justicar looked cautiously around a corner. Beside him, Escalla frantically tugged at his tunic to get the man's attention.

  "Jus! This route leads downstairs! What are we going downstairs for? All the really hoopy treasure will be up in Lolth's rooms!"

  Jus glanced at Morag's map, then drew the faerie after him as he went around the corner.

  "Lolth will have her best traps and guards around her own apartments. What we need is to strip those guards away from her. We need her unprepared, rushed, and unfocused." The Justicar looked around a corner, then signaled Henry to watch the rear. "We need to get Lolth extremely annoyed..:."

  "O-o-oh! Pissed off spider goddess? Hoopy! Yeah, I can see that!"

  Silently drawing his sword Jus approached a door. Somewhere up ahead, there was a hum that transmitted through the metal hull.

  "Control. That's what our 'associate' meant. Lolth holds all other beings in contempt. She trusts no one else to do anything right." Jus nodded at the door ahead. "According to the map, downstairs is the machinery that makes this palace walk. If we can destroy the machines, she'll come down herself to see what's wrong."

  Polk rose up onto his haunches, clearly dismayed.

  "But son! This way we don't go into the actual lair of evil! We don't fight her step by step through the palace, facing every single trap, guard, and power she possesses!"

  Escalla dropped down and patted the badger on his head.

  "Ah, that's great, man. Let's call that one Plan B. We'll get onto it right after we have our brains torn out and replaced by cauliflower." The girl pointed at a door. "So the machine room stairs are this way?"

  The Justicar listened at the door, then signed for Henry to prepare his crossbow. Jus stove the doorway in with a single massive kick, sending wood splintering into a big space beyond. There was a roar from inside, and two huge shapes surged up from a heap of garbage on the floor. Startled, the giants snatched for clubs even as Henry's crossbow hammered crossbow bolts through the air. One giant snarled as the little darts ripped into him, then went wide eyed as the sleeping poison smeared on the tips went to work. The Justicar was about to charge into the fray, when Escalla shot between his legs with her frost wand in her hand.

  "Whoa! Mine!" Escalla fired her frost wand into the room. "Jus, back! Don't screw up that stoneskin spell!"

  A blast of icy cold smashed into the remaining giant. The creature bellowed and recoiled. Invisible, Escalla sped into the room. A club hammered down at her as the giant blindly tried to smash her to a paste-then Escalla's frost wand opened fire from an indelicate position below. The giant arched and froze solid, dead as a stone. Reappearing, Escalla blew a wisp of frost from the tip of her wand, twirled it like a baton and tucked it into place beneath her arm.

  "And that's how they do it on faerie turf!" The girl seemed pleased. "Hey! Who wants to search for treasure?"

  Jus was in action. He swiftly passed the rest of the party through the room, propelling Polk with his boot. He opened the door that led to the rear of the ship, moving fast, always watchful and ready to kill.

  "Move! Move fast. Go!" He picked up Escalla in passing. "No treasure hunting!"

  "No treasure hunting?"

  "Get moving before the guards come!" Jus paused at a door, kicked it open, and led the way through a storeroom. He paused outside another door-a door leading to a stairwell-and gripped Benelux tight. "Go!"

  The door burst open. Four ogres rose from their nests beside a spiral stair. A hail of crossbow fire and a blast of frost met them, and the creatures were dead before they hit the ground. Jus ran to the top of the stairwell, looked down, then immediately led the way downstairs. He moved fast, and Escalla had to sprint wildly to catch him up.

  "Jus! Jus, we should be careful!"

  "The guards will be after us. There's no time!"

  He had to shout. The stair was filled with an awful noise coming from below-a metallic clash and shudder that rose to a deafening roar. The air was thick with heat and steam. Soot caked the walls, hiding the faces of the damned inside the metal skin. Enid squeezed down the stairs behind Jus and Escalla. Polk and Henry brought up the rear. Stifled, the group descended echoing metal steps into a deafening universe of noise.

  They stood in a vast metal hall choked with smoke. Huge furnaces ran the length of the chamber, each one a doorway into a raging hell of flame. Blank-eyed monsters, fanged, listless, and maggot-ridden, slowly shoveled coal into the fires. Some of the creatures even walked about among the coals, arranging white-hot embers with their bare hands. Pipes arched across the ceiling, some dripping water, and others jetted lethal blasts of steam. Tubes shuddered with force as steam drove through them. Others hung still and caked with soot as little quasit-imps ran skittering in the gloom. Furious heat struck the party like a physical blow.

  Shuddering machinery made a hellish racket. The Justicar leaned in to Henry, Enid, and Escalla, and bellowed at the top of his lungs, "Does anyone know how this thing works?"

  Everyone looked at Escalla. The girl shrugged.

  "I'm the world's most deadly fashion statement! What do I know about machines?" The girl waved at the furnaces. "Look! There's a process going on here! Stop the process, and you stop the machines!"

  "All right." Jus waved the others into the hellish room. "Keep away from the pipes! They look dangerous. Look for something we can break. Something important!"

  The floor was covered in fallen scraps of coal. The Justicar salvaged a piece to feed to Cinders, then signaled the party to fan out. Enid and Henry flanked him. Escalla turned invisible and flitted about just ahead. Staggering and stumbling across a coal-littered floor, Polk hurried his short little legs to keep up. He pointed out the creatures servicing the furnaces and tried to swerve Jus's attention.

  "Look, son! Tanar'ri! Demons just itching to be slain!"

  "They're called manes, Polk. They're like zombies, only dumber!" Jus pressed Cinders down atop his helmet as a steam blast hissed by. "They won't e
ven bother to look at us. They only do what they're told." The big ranger looked at the solid furnaces, the deadly pipes, looking for something that might cause Lolth to come and rage at her subordinates. "Benelux! Have you seen anything like this before? How does it work?"

  I, sir, am a sword. Not a mechanic. Ever petulant, the sword shimmered in the Justicar's hands. If it is information you want, I suggest you ask one of the bright red gentlemen over there.

  Dimly seen in the smoke and flames, the far end of the hall rose to a platform atop a pair of steps. Here were forests of rods, wheels, and control levers, all overwatched by a trio of hideous serpentine monsters. The creatures we're shaped like anacondas with human arms, but they seemed to be wreathed in living flame. Jus dived into cover. Enid and Henry flattened themselves behind a pile of coal. The group froze, but apparently they had not been seen. The serpent creatures snarled at one another and attended to their mechanisms, twisting wheels to bring a scream of steam from pipes up above.

  Escalla found a fresh lump of coal for the ever-greedy Cinders.

  "Jus, what are those snake-things?"

  "No idea." The Justicar squinted through the steam. "Salamanders?

  Salamander! Cinders spoke with his mouth full, coal crunching between big teeth. Dumb selfish bad! Steals coal. Chase hell hound. Kill human. Bad! The hell hound gave a little growl. No burn. Is made from fire. Cold kills him dead!

  "Woo-hoo! Little Miss Frost Wand is having a good day!" Escalla patted her favorite weapon, then noisily worked its arming slide. "Hoopy! I'll creep up, shoot them all with frost, and they'll be dead before you can say 'premeditated homicide'!"

  She turned invisible again before there was any chance for discussion. Jus half rose out of cover, trying to bring the girl back to heel.

  "Escalla! Escalla, be careful!"

  "Hey! Trust me! I'm a faerie!"

 

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