Gary Gygax: City of Hawks

The horned head of the great devil tilted slightly in perfunctory obeisance. “The writ has changed, fearful lord,” he replied with a sharp clashing of his tusks and fangs, “but there is still the last portion which is nebulous. We have increased the probabilities in our favor, but at the last there is still a small chance of risk a modicum of doubt…”

Infestix’s terrible visage grew even more awful to behold. “Why did the eight sons of… that one… withdraw, hag? They had already given over their brother into Our hand.”

“They are a suspicious lot at best,” Haegresse replied in her strange voice, “and much bent toward the weakness of weal. Suspicious the eight were from the first, and their part in the fratricide caused much argument amongst them. Usurpation of the right of lordship was no longer a sufficient prize. He of Lions demanded to see the whole of the prophecy. Of course I demurred, seeking the sympathy of the one representing the hot-tempered Ancient Tigers, but even that stupid lout was no help,” the queen of night hags said, spitting to emphasize her disgust.

“They know, then, that there was less than total success.” Infestix looked slowly, his gaze moving from left to right, over the group that stood before him. “It is our mission-more than that, our duty! — to reawaken the Greatest One, free Him, and assist in His triumph over all… You have failed me, though, and that will not be forgiven.” With that the Netherlord’s burning stare fell squarely upon the night hag. Haegresse’s form cringed under the gaze. She bowed her head in fear, expecting the worst, but Infestix looked away and spoke on.

“Fortunately for all of you fools, I have personally brought forces to bear on this affair. I have discovered what you could not: Others have learned of what we plan. They dare to interfere. It is their power, their meddling, which caused you to bungle.”

At those words, Haegresse dared to look up again. She saw a bony finger pointed straight at her, and the leering visage of the terrible daemon looking along the digit’s path. The night hag opened her mouth to protest, but a pale ray of putrescent green hue struck her full in the face before she could utter a sound.

The leathery flesh of her face bubbled and ran as if it were wax. In seconds Haegresse was nothing more than a vile-smelling puddle on the black basalt flags of Infestix’s court.

The others looked warily at the Netherlord. “She it was who gave our enemies the clue. Her stupid mouth is now silenced forever in nothingness,” Infestix informed the assembled horrors. “Bunglers cannot be tolerated.”

Those on the side of chaos shuffled and leered at what had just occurred, enjoying the spectacle, while the more ordered sovereigns of Gehenna merely stood taller and gave slight indications of approval. After a few seconds, the ambassador of the Nine Hells spoke up. “Lord Infestix, does this mean that my master will be called upon to play his proper role in this?”

“All of the Dukes Infernal will be… welcomed,” the overlord of daemons replied in his chill, hollow voice.

“Of course. Overlord of Gloom, the great Asmodeus will be chief-”

“That is between your master and I!” Infestix’s glare was sufficient to silence the pit fiend, and the devil bowed his head in recognition of the daemon’s power. “No mere mortal, regardless of potential change, can stand before the united might of the nether planes. Haskruble,” Infestix said, fixing the demon of that name with his icy gaze, “you must bring the rulers of the Abyss to us now.”

The steel-blue scales of the demon rippled as Haskruble shrugged. “No one can do that, mighty Overlord of Hades-not even Orcus, my own lord. The monarchs of the Abyss do as they choose.”

Although the daemon knew full well the truth of that statement, he trembled with rage at its utterance all the same. The demon emissary’s voice had borne an unmistakable tinge of sarcasm when he had spoken in reply. This was not missed by the other beings in assembly, and they awaited the results of this breach with varying degrees of anticipation.

No retribution came. The overlord of the nether planes swallowed his umbrage. The demon hordes of the Abyss, their many and puissant rulers, were needed. “Leave now, servant, and tell Orcus and the others that the time has come for all to rally to the Everdark Banner of Tharizdun. He alone can overthrow all Good and bring Evil to a place of supremacy for eternity!” There was disappointment plainly written on many of the vile countenances at so meek a rebuke, so straightforward a command. The demon Haskruble, needless to say, was not among the disappointed ones. He knew all too well the situation.

“I shall inform Prince Orcus,” he said loudly, and without formality spun on his scaly heels and strode toward the chamber’s exit with a swagger. Then Haskruble howled in agony as an ulcerous growth sprang from his head, sprouting upward in corrupt nodes. The demon spun to face Infestix, a mixture of indignation and terror on his visage.

“That will remind you, niggling, to pay homage to all above your station-and to Me, Infestix, in particular. Your master can remove it or not, as is his whim. It won’t destroy you, only turn you into a gibbering mound of boneless flesh in due course. You have hours, so there is no need for you to hasten your departure.”

Haskruble disappeared with a shriek, gating himself from the chamber instantly. There was a chorus of yammering, barking, yowling approval at the Netherlord’s justice-one in which even the diabolical monsters of the lower regions joined in, for Infestix’s punishment had been swift and masterful. Here was strength and power that could not be mocked!

“Strugne, return to the Infernal Regions and inform the dukes of Our decision. You others are also dismissed,” the daemon added, “save for you, Utmodoch, and you, Weyzeneal.” The master of demodands and the king of dreggals bowed to their emperor and stood still. The rest of the attendants slithered or strode, flopped or flew from the massive chamber after paying homage appropriately. None cared to test the power of Infestix again.

After all had departed, the daemon motioned the two remaining beings to join him upon the dais, and when they had complied the whole vanished from sight, leaving only a bubbling pool of nauseating filth where the platform had stood but an instant before. By whatever means, the trio of monstrous denizens of the nether regions were now elsewhere. Their abode was a circular room suspended in nothingness, a chamber with no entrance or exit. It was an otherworldly place, but it was not strange to them.

“Thank you for the honor, overlord,” the demodand Utmodoch boomed.

Not to-be outdone, the sovereign of Gehenna, Weyzeneal, also hastened to murmur his appreciation. “My emperor shows much wisdom by his generosity.”

“Cease this stupid pandering,” Infestix snapped. “We are all but pieces to be moved by He of Utter Evil… although our ranks do differ. You are here to supply me with information, not waste time on useless flattery. I know your black hearts and your festering brains too well for that!”

“The parents of the whelp were assuredly slain, overlord,” the pocked and waited dreggal said without being asked. He too had certain abilities, and a small show of strength could not harm his position. “Before we could take the corpses, though, someone or something intervened. The bodies vanished without a trace, and probing failed to discover the cause of the disappearance or where they went.”

“You, Utmodoch?” the daemon asked after nodding at Weyzeneal.

The gigantic demodand rumbled his response instantly. “My human servants on the material plane have sought in vain for some clue to the mystery which Weyzeneal just told of, emperor,” he said. “But not a trace of the whelp can be found, not an inkling from Greyhawk to a hundred leagues outward. It is as if that one no longer existed.”