Gary Gygax: City of Hawks

“Kill your servants, you feces-headed vessel of dog vomit! Were the whelp not alive, the rede would not show uncertainty as to the success of My plan!”

“But one small child cannot-”

Infestix’s sneer silenced the dreggal, just as the daemon’s harsh rebuke had stilled the gaping maw of the master of demodands. “You dare to suggest that My understanding of this is flawed?”

“Never, great lord,” the pair muttered in unison.

“I will forgive you… this time. Think on this. Long and long have I worked and schemed to bring back the Evil of Evils. Centuries have passed since the time I commenced the plan, and now this! A miserable human threatens Our success. Unacceptable!”

“My agents will continue the hunt,” the demodand said with assurance. “It will not be long before his skinny soul whimpers in the nethermost depths.”

“His?” The word, drawn out by Infestix’s bubbling growl, spoke volumes. “Not even I know if the whelp is male or female! Speculation will prove your undoing, Utmodoch, if you persist in this.”

Weyzeneal grasped the opportunity to curry favor for the forces he controlled. “I will serve, emperor, without the use of idle statements. My dreggals and our human slaves too will keep at it until the cryptograms are broken, the cipher revealed, and the secrets known. Recall, it was Gehenna that discovered the arcanum of the Tripartite Artifact.”

“And the hells whose servants gained the Initial Key,” scoffed Utmodoch. “Tarterus alone can-”

“Enough, both of you,” Infestix admonished without force. The poxed creature was not growing soft; he was merely distracted by his own pondering of the problem. He had strived for an eon to locate the three parts of the artifact that kept Tharizdun slumbering, chained, and prisoned in somewhen, some nullity in dimensions. The wardings around the secret were of incredible potency, but with tenacity equal to the task Infestix had broken them, one by one. Then the information had somehow slipped out, and servants of the Infernal Dukes had managed to gain the Only known portion of the key that the forces of Good had fashioned to bind the Evil of Evils, Tharizdun. There was no help for that now. The rulers of the hells would have to be given appropriate merit when the Darkest One arose and again sat upon His throne. Perhaps their devils would be of some assistance now, the greatest of daemons mused.

The problem was actually a simple one. A prophecy had been scribed, and its rede was ominous. There was the inkling of failure in it. One chance in ten thousand-a seemingly insignificant factor. It had been one chance in a thousand but a short time before. Then Infestix had caused the netherlords to become active. The packs and the human hounds of Hades and its dependencies had gone out, and they had brought down their quarry as expected. No, that was incorrect. They had torn the throats from two, but a third had somehow escaped, and that third little one was the most important of all. Somehow that one was connected to the Final Key. The rede implied that Evil would gain the Middle Key soon enough, but also that the fates of the Final Key and the human would intersect. If they did indeed come together, then all would be lost.

Getting this far had not been simple, but the forces of darkness were accustomed to having to work hard for what they gained. By the use of treachery, beguilement, lies, deception, flattery, and all the other tools of the lower planes, the denizens of Evil had managed to discover the identities of those who threatened to defeat Infestix’s purposes. The instigator was the half-human offspring of a minor lord of the concordant existences. He and his woman had brought forth a child who might become a factor in the matter.

Now, father and mother had been betrayed and slain thanks to the cooperation of their siblings-the father’s siblings, more correctly. They were a jealous lot, that litter, and each was anxious to inherit the domain of his sire. The mere hint of one gaining an edge over the others was sufficient incentive to keep all of them working on behalf of Evil for a time, but then their realization of the enormity of their treachery had caused the eight dupes to withdraw from the cause-a major miscalculation on the part of the night hag to whom Infestix had entrusted the responsibility of success. Just as well, the daemon lord rationalized-Haegresse had grown too ambitious anyway. It was high time that the night hags had a new queen. Infestix would inform them of his choice later.

“Emperor?” The hesitant word came from the lord of the dreggals, reluctant to interrupt his lord’s musings but anxious to know if his continued attendance was required. Infestix set his gaze on Weyzeneal for a minute. Then he turned away and stared at the massive, hideous face of the demodand. “It is not so much a matter, one in ten thousand. It is the Abyss which troubles me. Those brawling tubs of excrement will never be useful!”

“I am a demodand, overlord, not a sovereign lord of demonkind,” Utmodoch replied defensively. “I have much Influence amongst the strongest of the princes of the Abyss, of course,” the ghastly being hastened to add so as to assure Infestix of his value, “but the stupidity and worthlessness of demons is legendary.”

“See that you maintain your influence, and use it correctly,” the overlord of the nether planes replied in his hollow, menacing voice. “One way or another, I will succeed. Fail me naught, either of you.” Nothing further needed to be uttered, for both knew the consequences of incurring the wrath of this being.

“Gehenna will be unrelenting in pursuit of your purpose,” the dreggal king intoned.

Utmodoch dropped to his knees, saying, “Tarterus will serve by sussing out and destroying all who attempt to stand in competition to you, overlord.”

The cadaverous daemon seemed satisfied with that homage and those promises. “I will send you to your respective places now. Report the least thing to me personally. Nothing regarding this matter must escape my scrutiny. Hear me and obey.”

Before they could reply, Infestix touched a diagram before him and spoke a word. The demodand and the dreggal king vanished.

Weaklings, both of them, thought Infestix. Better that He should be served by the Infernal Dukes, despite their machinations. Let Tharizdun come, and He, Infestix, would gladly stand to be weighed in evil-ness and ability against any of those order-headed devils. In the interim, their strict routine and meticulous methods would serve well to promote the one worthwhile goal that would end the factiousness of Evil for all time and make it paramount in the multi-verse forever.

“Your hair is lovely this evening, mistress,” the serving girl said as she held up the mirror.

Meleena peered into the glass and turned her head slowly from side to side, scrutinizing every detail of her coiffure that she could see. The sapphires in the comb that adorned her rich, chestnut-hued tresses matched her eyes perfectly. At last she smiled and motioned the girl away, completely pleased with herself and her situation. New servant, new wardrobe, new jewelry… a new life!

“Fetch my fur-trimmed cloak, girl,” Meleena said, trying unsuccessfully to maintain an attitude of aloofness and not give a hint of the secret pleasure she felt inside. “I will be going to the Citadel tonight,” she added, every word exuding happiness and pride. Thanks to Wanno, there was every likelihood that young Lord Roland would notice her this very evening. In addition to providing her with clothing, jewelry, and a great sum of gold, some of which she had spent to attain her new station, the mage had promised to use his power and Influence to bring her to Roland’s attention. Although she had not seen Wan-no for several days, she had no reason to doubt that he would be true to his word. Meleena was certain that she would soon be someone in the city.