Gary Gygax - Artifact of Evil

Instead of leaping ahead onto the waiting blades, Gord sprang sideways. A bolt caught his hind leg nonetheless. It barely grazed his ebony coat, but the path it left burned, and he let out a startled yowl of pain as he landed and bounded off again. There was a shout of triumph from whoever had loosed the enchanted missile and wounded him, while the other three — a renegade human, a half-orc, and a particularly big bugbear — cursed and ran after him.

Gord ran flat out for the safety of the nearby forest, not caring to find out just how magical the weapons threatening him were. The spear the giant goblin waved whistled overhead and buried itself in the ground just a few feet in front of him. On an impulse Gord managed to bring himself to a sudden stop. "Having four legs is a real advantage at such times!" his human mind thought even as his cat one was causing his massive jaws to clamp fast on the quivering spearshaft. Then he was running again, bounding between the giant trees. The ragtag brigands howled after the escaping were-leopard, with the bugbear whose enchanted spear had been just stolen yelling the loudest of all.

Safe in a tree, pacing along the upper world of the forest, Gord-panther decided it was high time to rest and assess the situation. Only a few of the bravest of the band had dared to follow the three leaders into the woods in pursuit of the fleeing leopard. Gord had easily evaded the chase, climbing a tree and then moving swiftly from limb to limb. After a few minutes the humans and humanoids had ceased their halloo and returned to their encampment. Gord still held the enchanted spear fast in his leopard teeth. He realized that biting on the shaft made his teeth ache, and he spat it out on the broad limb he rested on. There were no indentations in the wood from his fangs. It was a potent weapon indeed!

The collection of bandits and humanoids would be breaking up even now, Gord thought. Without knowing that they had been deserted by their leader, they would think the body of the dwarf in the burned tent was their master. Without either Keak or Obmi to keep them in line, natural hostilities, bullying, and differences would send the motley assembly into separate bands immediately. The losels would certainly remain intact as a group. They would probably seek to inform their ultimate master, Iuz, of what had happened. The men would split from the ores, and the few other sorts of humanoids — bugbears, gnolls, and an odd norker or xvart — would side with one or another of these parties, according to where they thought they'd be least likely to be killed. Tomorrow morning there would be nothing left save the litter and refuse the brigands left behind.

All of the groups would avoid going in the direction of the tribal lands of gnolls left behind to the south. These humanoids would only kill or enslave men or ores who came their way. There being no need to have more concern for the safety of his comrades and the two boys with Gellor and Chert, Gord pondered the problem of the Obmi-impostor's and Keak's absence from the encampment. The answer was not long in coming. Once again the dwarf had callously abandoned his company to whatever fate held in store for them. He and Keak must have simply ridden on, leaving the rest to bear the brunt of things.

Very well, then. Obmi was a day ahead, but he surely had the Second Key with him. To make certain, Gord shifted to his own shape long enough to check out the leather poke. It held an assortment of coins equal to about a gold piece in value. The impostor had died for that sum, nothing more, for these creatures of Evil certainly had no loyalties. Resuming panther form, Gord again took the captured spear in his mouth and headed northward.

"They come this way," Chert said.

Gellor nodded grimly. "Then it is time we showed this pack of yapping jackals what it is like to face men."

The barbarian had gone to spy on the gnolls blocking the route north. Although they had moved their own camp several miles southward, and well off the trail, the two men still felt uneasy, so Chert had volunteered to scout the enemy. If they had not had the two lads with them, Gellor and the woodland-raised barbarian would have simply slipped away until the humanoid tribe had wandered off elsewhere. Thatch and Shadow were village-bred. They had some skill at woodcraft, but certainly it was insufficient for what was demanded now. This put the two adventurers in a quandary.

"I can set a deadfall or two," Chert said.

"Good. I'll use a bit of druidical power to prepare some surprises, too. Chert, be ready with your bow," the one-eyed bard said. "I want you to feather as many of those hyena-heads as you can, and don't spare the shafts!"

Chert looked shocked. "Shoot away all the arrows? That will leave us with no defenses save spear and sword!"

"There you are wrong, my friend," Gellor said with a meaningful smile. "You see, the little snares I'll place to discomfit the enemy are just an annoyance. I have a far warmer welcome planned for that dreadful band of murdering humanoids."

The bard began explaining his plan, Chert nodding and occasionally adding some detail or asking a question. As Gellor concluded his exposition, the massive barbarian was grinning and slapping his thigh. "That will indeed do for them, but what about the lads?"

The one-eyed man ceased his smiling. "There's no help for that. We'll have to use them in the initial stage — for show only, I hope, and I'll give them what aid I can even for that."

Chert agreed that it was the best hope they had. Staying put was out of the question, abandoning the lads was unthinkable, and there was no way of avoiding the gnolls when the two boys were along. They had to bring the fight to the humanoids, and that fight had to go in their favor! Gellor called the two boys over and gave them a brief outline of what was to be done.

"Now you two stay put here. Be ready with your weapons, for we'll be back to get you soon enough, and then you're going to help us fox those man-eaters for sure, right?"

"Right!" Thatch and Shad cried in unison.

"Now both of you paint yourselves with that green and brown paste I made up. Put it wherever your skin shows, and help each other! I want you two to look as fierce and savage as any wild woods-roamer does!"

Smiling and laughing at the prospect, the lads hurried to comply. It was like a game to them, for they didn't fully understand the full nature of the whole matter. The men turned away and went into the forest to set the stage.

The heavy log fell suddenly, and the gnoll beneath it was dead in that instant, his neck broken. His fellows snarled in shock, froze, and peered here and there. One barked a syllable or two, pointing ahead on the trail. There was another trap there. Their teeth bared in feral attitude, the nine remaining humanoids moved off the path, to the right and left, stalking ahead in search of the men who dared to do this to one of their number.

Bowed limbs sprung upward with heavy, swishing sounds, and another pair of gnolls were caught in traps. These were not so effective, though. Each of these victims was simply suspended by one of his legs, nooses holding them dangling a few feet above the ground. With rude comments and laughs, another pair of their comrades went to cut them down. Both would-be liberators were struck by clothyard shafts as they attempted to cut the snares free. As the wounded humanoids fell, their companions took cover, their own bows and arrows ready to return the compliment.

A sudden, piercing shriek sounded to the gnolls' right, and ahead there was motion in the foliage. They loosed several shafts at the unseen enemy, and in return one of the humanoids was struck by a pair of arrows that killed him on the spot. Several of the gnolls started to advance, moving carefully from tree to tree; then another gave a startled bark as it was jerked suddenly into the air by a snare. This humanoid had been caught about its neck, however, and the cry was instantly choked off as the cord broke its neck. When humans armed with spears and painted in savage camouflage were seen moving toward them, darting from tree to tree, the five un-wounded gnolls ran back up the trail, leaving their pair of wounded comrades to their fate.