Gary Gygax: Come Endless Darkness

"If that be the case, Gord, then I'll join ye in the fight," Barrel said firmly.

Dohojar nodded agreement. "I too am by your side, Zehaab!"

Before there was a general rush of that sort of thing, Gord raised his hand. "Hold! Avast! Then we'd be back where we are now. I am here to tell you that I will have to leave you — all of you. Seeker needs you all to survive the side effects of whatever dark things have been sent for me. My departure will draw off some of the ill, but much might still find its way to you!"

"Will you stride across the waters of the sea? Or have you wings?" That sarcastic query came from one named Reppon, first mate of the ship and a doughty sea-warrior who had seen much of the world in his travels.

"Neither," Gord replied with a laugh. "But I have certain friends, shall we say — beasts of the ocean. I think it likely that I can call upon them to carry me safely hence to wherever it is I must go — and that destination will be known to them."

The rim of the sun was Just touching the watery horizon when the moot finally ended. What decided it all so quickly was not entirely Gord's decision. An immense wall of black clouds was suddenly visible to the north — great, anvil-headed clouds that shot upward in contorted forms, nightmare shapes with writhing bodies and leering, fearsome faces. Dark layers overtopped even these mighty clouds, and bright lightnings made the looming wall flicker and flash eerily. It was Barrel who concluded the assembly then and there. "That there's a hellstorm, boys!" he announced. "If the cap'n can leave and take it from us, we just might live to tell of it!"

Dohojar dithered and fretted as Gord began a ritual to summon the "friends" he had referred to. "I am willing to help you with this calling, Zehaab," the dark-skinned man pleaded. "How can you refuse?"

But the young adventurer would not relent. He was confident that he could manage. "My friend," he finally said to the Changa, "even though you are a mage, you aren't acceptable to the ones who might agree to bear me from this place. Now go away so I can finish!" Dohojar slunk off, and Gord completed his ritual. The words he uttered and the gestures he made were the parts of a cat-summoning dweomer that had been taught to him by Rexfelis the Catlord. His dreams, he thought, were messages sent by Rexfelis, so perhaps the Catlord would supply the means of transportation. After all, he reasoned, weren't the great sea lions faithful subjects of Rexfelis? That remained to be seen. He waited a few minutes but got no results, so he began the ritual again, performing it more carefully this time.

A gurgling and a growl made Gord start. He had been so wrapped up in repeating the charm properly that he hadn't seen the darker shape rise in the darkening gray of the sea's depths. The lionlike head that suddenly broke the surface was huge — thrice the size of a true lion's — and of a greenish tinge.

"Who braves the calling of Leoceanius?" The challenge came in a roar, sounding like the rush and retreat of a huge breaker.

"Gord, associate of Rexfelis and friend of all cats, summons one who is vassal to the Lord of Felines."

Before the young man could say or do anything more, the monstrous sea cat rose up and grabbed him with its gigantic forepaws. "About bloody time, too," the creature growled, as it bore Gord from the ship's deck off into the leaden-hued waters. "Get on my back and hold fast to my mane, or I'll not be held accountable for your fate," said Leoceanius gruffly. There was no chance to protest. Floundering, Gord managed to do as the sea lion demanded, grasping and holding fast for dear life, for even as he spoke the creature was swimming off at a speed unimaginable to a man.

"What of my belongings, O Master Lion of the Seas?"

The sea lion gave a coughing roar, its version of a laugh. "You have much of power with you, man. I read clearly in your own mind that what is behind on that wooden float is naught of importance to you. Even were it otherwise, there would be no help for it. Ere you could get your possessions, the black sending would strike."

They were slicing through the calm waters at an angle that took them eastward and slightly away from the oncoming mountains of cloud. The Silver Seeker was already little bigger than a dot behind them. What the creature said was true. All of his possessions that Gord considered truly valuable were with him. He wore his short sword and his dagger, his cat's-eye ring and his amulet of protection, plus a few other cherished things safely contained in a dweomered coffer no bigger than a thimble.

"Go to it, Leoceanlus! Let's see a real turn of speed!" Gord cried with a laugh to match that of the sea lion. Let his companions aboard the ship keep the gold and gems he had left there. So too the good shirt of elfin chain mail that was in his sea chest, and the extra blade he had hidden beneath a false floorboard in his quarters — a longsword of dark metal that he had brought back from the city deep beneath the Ashen Desert. Those things he truly regretted leaving, but perhaps they would save another one's life one day. The mail shirt would fit Dohojar, although the Changa would have to forsake his spellworking while he had it on. And both Dohojar and Barrel knew of the sword and where it was concealed, so Gord was sure it would eventually be brought out and put to good use by someone. At any rate, there was no point in worrying about those things any more. "And where do we go?" Gord asked the lion.

"Well away from that," the great water-creature roared, giving its mighty head a shake to indicate the advancing tempest. "Only I do not think I can go fast enough."

That gave Gord pause. He turned slightly to eye the wall of ebon clouds and saw that indeed the storm was coming down upon them at tremendous speed. The dark, lightning-shot center of the tempest had altered its course too. The whole front was now bearing toward them, going eastward just as they did. The fading sunlight was now so dim that he could see nothing more, but Gord imagined that Silver Seeker was now well away from the worst of the storm, for the leading gusts of wind would be more than enough for the ship to begin beating westward.

"What makes the roiling?" the young adventurer managed to shout above the rising wind. He had seen the splashing of something off to their right and slightly ahead.

"My fellows," Leoceanius roared so as to be heard. "They converge to escort us to safety. A bad sign, for it means some worse foe than the storm draws near!"

In minutes the now-dark waters were made lighter by the foam and froth of a score of great sea lions cleaving the rising waves. They offered greetings to Leoceanius as their liege, the master of all their kind. It surprised Gord, however, to be saluted as well by these creatures — and especially because they hailed him as prince. Leoceanius surged to his right, bearing the young adventurer directly away from the evil cloud-wall that was rolling down upon them at terrible speed. "What news?" the sea lion roared to his followers.

"It is the sea hag, Udyll, who has raised the tempest," came the faint reply. Although the wind tore away at even the great bass voice of the sea cat, Gord could discern the speech well enough to hear the fear in the creature's voice. The hag hunts for the man you bear even now — she and her pack of sharks!"

Leoceanius shook his great mane. "Even as fast as I can go, the hag's tempest closes upon us. It will strike soon, and at its edge will be her death-fish. Burdened as I am, Gord, we are no match for sharks and hag."

"I have my sword!" Gord grabbed the hilt of the short blade buckled around his waist as he shrieked into the howling gale that now battered them and broke the tops of the ever-heightening waves of the Azure Sea into horizontal sheets of spray that stung like blizzard-whipped sleet.