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

Abyss. Nergel had prosecuted the war too well by half ever to regain favor with Iuz, Orcus, and the rest, and after wreaking havoc in Mandrillagon's own palace, and kidnapping all of the demon prince's harem, there could never be peace with Demogorgon's faction either. Holding the line were Vuron, the three captains, and one other thing. The albino general in charge of Graz'zt's last horde also possessed the final third of the mightiest relic of Evil ever forged.
    "Send out our own velites to disrupt those turds!" The urging came from the sharp-curved chest of Nergel as the crooked demon viewed the antics of the enemy skirmishers.
    Vuron restrained the remark that sprang to mind. Instead, he pointed off to the side, at a scattering of cowering dretch and rutterkin. Those pitiful few were all that remained of the thousands which had filled the light corps at the beginning of the campaign. "Do you think they will serve?" the albino asked Nergel sweetly.
    Nergel either ignored or missed the sarcasm. "What matter. Lord General? Their deaths will serve well enough."
    "Yes, I suppose so," Vuron admitted. There was no way either force could use height to spy out the other side's position and movements. The ground was board-flat, and no demon taking to the air would survive more than a second or two. Hundreds of missiles, a score of dweomers were all ready for just such targets. If even a small break in the screening swarm of dumalduns could be made, it might be enough to allow Vuron a glimpse of the foe. "Find a squad of boorixtroi to drive them forth," the albino told Nergel, "and make the drivers themselves stay in the fight for as long as you can."
    Nergel bowed and hastened off to comply. He loved to see death — any save his own. The hunched demon likewise hated the misshapen boorixtroi, for they reminded him too much of himself. The massive, stupid things with their disproportionately long right arms and shark-toothed, lipless mouths were too disgusting even for the likes of Kostchichie. Thus, the shuffle-footed giants were relegated to police work as it were.
    If this tactic worked, Nergel would get most of the credit; that he'd see to. A failure could be laid squarely upon the pale head of Vuron. Either way would bring Nergel closer to Graz'zt's favor. He located a whole section of boorixtroi lounging out of sight behind the baggage train. "Up!" Nergel shouted, and the misshapen giants scrambled erect. "Come!" he ordered, and the dozen-plus things pounded clubbed feet upon stone-hard ground as they ran to obey the demon lord.
    Just as he was about to send the boorixtroi and their whining charges out on a sweep around the right flank, however, Nergel was interrupted.
    "Stop. You must wait a moment. Lord Nergel." The soft yet piercing order came from a dark elf. It was the beautiful Eclavdra, once high priestess of those who served Graz'zt on the material sphere known as Oerth, now the ebon demon king's vizier and lieutenant general of this force.
    Sputtering, Nergel shot back, "Why so? This is impossible! Lord Vuron himself commanded my actions! I will proceed!"
    "Be it on your . . . shoulders, then," the dark elven female replied to the outburst. She had hesitated, then chosen the word "shoulders" carefully. Nergel was very touchy about his deformed bones there. Eclavdra saw the great demon noble's face become suffused with anger, his slablike cheeks grow lIvid, and his wattles quiver. Then she spoke softly again. "You see, I have Just spoken with General Vuron, and he sent me here to make certain you did not send forth the velites quite yet."
    "You lie, bitch!" Nergel spat, then regretted it instantly. "No ... I am overwrought. Lady Eclavdra — forgive the hasty words," the hunched demon managed, almost choking on his own speech. "Of course I believe you . . . but let us go to our leader immediately to settle the discrepancy."
    "Discrepancy? I find no discrepancy, captain. I gave you an order; you will carry it out to the