Dance of Demons by Gary Gygax Read Free Book Online Page A

companies to block the way. From the eighth tier let us go directly to the Soulless Sounding., .
    "Bold, very bold. Yet I think you are wiser than I, my old friend. It is a dangerous and demanding way, but one which only the lords of the Abyss can normally manage. No being less than a netherlord can survive its passage. It will take us longer, prove more perilous, but allow us the greater chance of swift and sure arrival when all things are taken into account. Let us go there, then!"
    Side by side, the two heroes strode across the endless leagues of the foul layer that was the entry to the Abyss. In a short time, thanks to their innate force, they came to the lowering bluffs that housed the gateways to the next twenty tiers of the agglomeration of planes that formed the depth of evil called demonrealm, the Abyss. A few hundred lesser demons were there to contest their entry, prevent them from going on; but those malign guards died in vain, swiftly and without great effort from the pair. A clear and bright melody from the kanteel, some dark and deadly lightnings from the rejoined sword, Courflamme, and none stood to oppose them.
    Bottomless pit, toothed maw, steely sphincter, raging cauldron of lava, grinding millstone, and more. Each such obstacle disguised a means of entry to another of the many tiers beneath the first With a sharp prod from his sword, Gord caused the metallic sphincter to open, for it warded the way to the eighth sphere. "Quickly now, Gellor," he told the bard. "As soon as we arrive below, we must make for the Soulless Sounding with all speed!"
    Gellor shook his head in assent, leaped through the opening, and vanished. Gord followed. The razoredged circle snapped closed, but it was too late. Champion and hero now stood upon demonkind's eighth tier.
     
    Chapter 4
    A SWARM OF DUMALDUN skirmishers covered the field, their numbers and power obscuring all behind them. The tall, bounding dumaldun with their bristlecovered bodies and grinning, opossum heads seemed to be everywhere, discharging volleys of frozen-acid javelins, bringing forth clouds of poisonous, cloaking vapors, capering and daring the serried ranks of opposing demons to come forth and fight with them. The long line wavered.
    "Stand fast there!" The command came from Vuron himself as the thin, white demon lord paced along behind the triple rank of mixed demon soldiery. "If any breaks formation, I will personally skin him inch by inch!" The troops heard and believed. Squat gila-monster demons, the fesroo type, braced as they stood with saw-edged glaives in the forefront of the horde. Immediately behind these reptilian demons Vuron had placed a like number of wulox, tall, thin creatures with storklike heads and spindly arms. Thin as those appendages might be, the albino general knew that the wulox could wield their needle-tined military forks well enough on any foe that managed to slip between the jagged blades used by the fesroo. In the third rank stood a mixed grouping of yet larger and more ferocious demons — goat-horned klebguzig with both pincers and fauchard-like mancatchers ready, tiny-winged gashnulfu whose pig eyes glittered as brightly as their pole axes, and even a few bat-faced raloogs, whose spiked flails and terrible swords would exact much from the enemy when the time came.
    The first rank was held in place by the press of the bigger, fiercer second. In turn, the middle was kept still by the terrible third row of great demons who stood behind them, waiting. Behind all of them paced Vuron and his captains, the latter down to a handful now. Vastyi, the Master Toad, was there, still staying because of his hatred for Iuz. Palvlag too remained steadfast, and thus so did the company of raloogs, flame-demons whose might was feared by all lesser demonkind.
    Hunched Nergel was at hand as well. Fear kept him allied with Graz'zt's viceroy, Vuron — fear of what the enemy would do to him even if Nergel abandoned the six-fingered king of the