"
Leap, Mephisto
!" A devil-headed hound sprang obediently. "
Now, Thrax, get that one
!" and as Tharizdun gave the command he pointed at a brute whose pumpkin-round head showed it to be a megagoblin. Ferociously but efficiently, the yeth called Thrax used its daemon teeth to shred the lesser hound.
"You waste your force."
"Bah! The joy of seeing that is well worth the little effort required to shape another of the goblin sort." He turned his back on the entity and called his lead dogs. "
To me, Mephisto and Thrax
!" The yeth came slinking, growling, hellish hatred in their lambent stares. Tharizdun beat both, but he did so only perfunctorily, so no injury was done. "
Be quicker to obey, or next time it will be worse for you! now return and quiet the pack
." The two huge hounds bounded away, savaging the smaller ones immediately. There was a great yowling and snarling for a brief span; then the whole of the group of yeth hounds was as silent as death.
"
You see them? those are the ones to hunt out the foes, oh yes! As soon as I have the third, the demon-hound. I think it shall be named graz. Do you find that amusing, lord of inertia
?"
"Very amusing," the entity responded without any enthusiasm, let alone humor. "As it is of urgent requirement, the third of your greater yeth, I shall gather my presence in Pandemonium and the Abyss. The recaicitrant will be burdened by me, and your conquest thus hastened."
"
If you so choose, but I think not that it adds to any agreement between us or that these will be a debt to repay
?"
"Trouble yourself not at all on that score, archfiend. The compact we have is all that I desire. Consider this a willing effort, my special gift in honor of your return to power, Tharizdun."
As suddenly as the Lord of Entropy had come, its presence was no longer there in Tharizdun's hall. The darkest one of Evil was relieved, for as much as he hated to admit it, the entity made him uneasy, and Entropy's presence wore on his nerves, sapped his vitality somehow. "
You will be no welcome visitor soon, thing
," Tharizdun snarled softly as he pondered the role of the master of stasis. Once in full mastery of the cosmos, the archfiend would seek and find ways to dispatch Entropy, or at worst exile the entity from the vicinity of wherever Tharizdun happened to be. Perhaps the negative forces of the anti-cosmos were the answer, one given unwittingly to him by the stupid inactive one himself. That would be delightful and ironic. How would such a thing die? Slowly, no doubt, but probably without sufficient emotion to make the spectacle worthwhile. In this case, Tharizdun reckoned, the end would be worth it even lacking the sport.
That brought him to the matter of his adversary, Gord. It had required all of his skill at dissembling, acting and lying too to keep the truth of things from the Lord of Entropy. Tharizdun pondered, recalling clearly his rash act No ally, and certainly none of the slaves, must ever know of that act of weakness. Because of the lack of that last, essential portion of what he had been, Tharizdun knew himself to be both stronger than before and yet at the same time less potent. That was why he waited to complete his pack of yeth hounds, why he still sought the assistance of the master of inertia. Not only did the archfiend need to recover the skull and consume it, he had to wait to accomplish that after dealing with a deadly adversary prepared by every force that opposed him from time immemorial, honed since his last defeat.
"
Even the demons gave to that opposition
," Tharizdun snarled, "
and such a price they will pay for that! That accursed sword wields energies drawn from ail aspects op my own domain; thus it b a weapon even I must he wary of. Yet no tool is better than the one using it, and I have the rede of the little knave who has been bequeathed with the mantle of Balance's power. Too flawed, you fools
!" The last he shouted into the empty silences of his immeasurable hall there on the plane of Hades, and none heard.
He might have been a useful servant of Tharizdun's. That the darkest noted in studying the sordid history of the one called Gord. Well, there was no turning him around now, and his disgusting principles warped the drow priestess too, so that the clone grew apart from its true form. Ah, were but Eclavdra the one assisting the champion, she would have stung him as a scorpion! The many scenes involving Gord, Leda, Gellor too, all had been replayed by the archfiend as he wielded his arcane dweomers.
"
I know my enemies now
," he reassured himself. The troubador had always been tainted with wealsome ethic, beliefs that were weak and unselfish. That one could be forgotten,despite his nasty little harp. Gellor and Leda, supernormal now, but hardly above human capability if stripped of magical bolstering. Imbued or otherwise, he could handle the pair easily enough.
In combination with Gord, the matter became more problematic. Especially since the three now bore the tokens left for just such purpose by the elders of Light. Were they separable? If so, then it would be a swatting of butterflies. Put such happy prospects aside, though. What strength did the three mortals, with their rings, constitute?
The three had improved wisdom, reasoning, senses. Two to guard the flanks of the champion, Gord armed with Courflamme, the single weapon capable of actually ending Tharizdun's existence. The little turd also kept the boy's head too! Was there more? Yes ... it was coming forth as the archfiend bent his will to the problem. Unknown agencies seemed to lend their assistance, but that help was . . puny and nonvital. Fortune was to smile upon them — no matter, Tharizdun took no chances, not any more, and he always stacked the tiles so that there were no odds in favor of his opponents.
Again, the tempo of whatever occurred would beat at a pace useful to those three. But yet again it was a matter of small consequence. The archfiend would commence the hunt only when he was ready. Until then he would stay in his now unassailable realm in the netherspheres. With time favoring him, there accrued no advantage to the foes if it briefly surged in their direction.
"
Only the sword remains. If I can negate the power of Courflamme, I can win without effort
!" Time passed as Tharizdun contemplated that. mulling over the whole of the history of the sword. Then it came to him in a flash that was inspired. "
It is of Balance, and the culmination of the ethos, the forces op that sphere's energy, are of mundane being where all others meet. Courflamme is agathokakological, a tool of Good and Evil forced in the gray neutrality of Balance. Now I have the final strategy
."
Tharizdun paused in his contemplations and gave vent to uncontrolled peals of mirth, laughter so malign that its echoes rolled beyond the precincts of even so monstrous a hall as he sat in, and the whole of the netherworld trembled at the sound. "
Let plodding master Entropy place his pall upon all he can to hinder you, gord the champion. I will use my yeth to hound you throughout the cosmos, and but one little hole will seem to be a place of safety. as hares you and your comrades will run into it, and there I'll wait. Never has there been a tool made which cannot be unmade, and I have the force which fashioned Courflamme there in the hidey-hole. It will be beaten into nothingness on the forge which formed it, and then you are mine
!"
The wave of triumphant power that followed on the heels of that shouted proclamation also washed beyond the hall. At its passing, all the denizens of the dark planes were made stronger and exulted in the vileness of the energy. Now they were glad they were slaves of the greatest master Evil had ever spawned.
Chapter 20
DARK HORDES ROLLED ACROSS DEMONIUM in a wave. Composed of millions of indIvidual soldiers, the wave performed as if It was a single entity. In a hundred places it lapped around a fortress, each such stronghold then becoming an island in a hostile and stormy sea. Everywhere else, save one single continentlike mass, was inundated by the army of Tharizdun. One after another the small islands of demonic resistance fell to the rising tlde of the Ultimate Evil's hordes as more and more spawn of the other netherspheres were sent to fight the rebellious inhabitants of the Abyss. The smallest strongholds fell initially, of course, where some petty lord of a minor race of demons tried vainly to defy Tharizdun's overlordship. The Master of All Evil would brook no such independence, and each victory brought a horrible example of the fate that any who defied him would suffer. Yet surprisingly, most of the demons were not cowed by the cruelty or the monstrous things that befell the defenders after being overwhelmed by the invading forces.
Perhaps it was not actually surprising when the nature of demonium was considered. After all, what lord of the Abyss wouldn't do the same? What demon would ever forgive defiance? Once committed to opposition, there was no alternative course, no peace ever to be made, no amnesty that would be granted. The ethos of Evil allowed only victory, and the term "vanquished" was synonymous with "exterminated." For every demon slain by the hordes under Tharizdun's banner, a score of the attackers were destroyed. Had not a quarter of the force been drawn from the Abyss itself, where a portion of the demonlords had bowed to the darkest force, then perhaps the invasion might have taken far, far longer to achieve appreciable results, make great inroads on the hundreds of planes that were demonkind's.
Tharizdun cared little about losses. Devils, daemons, maelvis, or any other of the dozen malign races under his command were but implements to be used, discarded if blunted or broken, and new ones obtained. Not that the Master of Malevolence would denude the whole of the netherspheres with such equanimity. Indeed, he needed many subjects to cany out his commands, see to his desires, and for the dutles of maintaining oppression there and elsewhere soon enough. In order to become absolute master of the cosmos, Tharizdun had first to rule all of the lower spheres. He had no option but to subjugate the Abyss before he could turn his attention elsewhere. Demons, certainly the most vicious enemies of all opposed to Evil, were thus serving the multiverse without knowing or caring that they aided all of Weal and nonwicked dlsposition.
Tharizdun understood all too well what was occurring and raged at it. Unthinkable in any circumstance, the great war in demonium was doubly disturbing. As he sought to complete his base of power, Tharizdun had to contemplate the fact that a deadly and implacable antagonist also waited somewhere to strike. Gord, Champion of Balance, had the wherewithal to slay the greatest evil ever spawned. Let the worthless troops die in their thousands, for time now seemed to be working against Tharizdun. Edgy, always on guard against sudden assault by his foe, Tharizdun himself rode through the Abyss on the back of a three-headed fired rake. He was there to spur his hordes to greater fury in their assaults; besides, there was greater safety for him when surrounded by such troops.
The cacodemon marches of Pandemonium, where demonkin and chimeras held sway, were as difficult to subdue as demonium itself, but the sheer weight of the attacking forces Tharizdun brought to bear managed the task with rapidity, for there were no great fortresses and mighty leaders to command as there were in the Abyss. After but a period of six of Oerth's days, the Ultimate One of Evil could point to all of Pandemonium as conquered territory, and view a map of the many tiers of the Abyss that showed but a score of little islands remaining resistance. But there was one blot to reckon with, too. It was Ojukalazogadit.
Ojukalazogadit! A great stratum unto itself. The greatest of demon brutes, too. The monstrous thing was a being, perhaps even a demonking of sorts, although its only subject was itself. Ojukalazogadit could send forth portions of itself. Not a few, not a thousand. The brute demon could create a field a force of legions that were but bits of its being. Dim, demented, Ojukalazogadit the unconquerable.
During the course of the earlier wars in the Abyss, when the daemon Infestix had rallied a coalition of enemies against the would-be emperor of all demonium. Graz'zt the brute demon had served as battlefield and warrior both. With the help of it Graz'zt had almost triumphed, and through its assistance, the ebon demonking had been able to withdraw to safety after defeat there. In its madness, the thing had certainly devoured many of the force it had allied with, but only a tithe of the number of the opposing horde that its suddenly opening mouths and rampaging portions slew and absorbed.
Now the living layer of the Abyss served as a citadel for the beleaguered demons. Graz'zt and all his remaining subjects, Elazalag and the Abat-dolor, and whatever others of the lords of demonium who could manage it retreated to the fastness of Ojukalazogadit and waited. With them they brought their arms, treasures, and herds of demon-beasts. Whether it was the feeding upon elephantine kine or the dim realization that doom threatened it, Ojukalazogadit refrained from wanton predation upon those refugees making their last stand upon it. Perhaps after the last morsel of the ferocious flocks and hideous herds of things that demons kept as would a man tend sheep and cattle, then the demon brute would devour warrior and lord in refuge. Now, the being sent forth the masses of its chimerical body to combat the dreggals and cacodaemons who tried to advance onto Ojukalazogadit's surface. They, along with turncoat demons, devils, maelvis, dumalduns, and the others of Tharizdun's millions were greedily eaten by the rampaging excretions that served to defend the brute and its refugees. Oddly then, as the Abyss was torn, weakened, and devastated, the gross stratum battened and grew stronger.
Because of this, also because of the last isolated pockets of resistance were those citadels commanded by the greatest of demons, the survivors of the sudden assault upon the Abyss broke out and moved toward the vast place that was the demon brute Ojukalazogadit. Distracted by his contemplation of the Champion of Balance, immersed in the creation of his yeth hounds. Tharizdun saw what was occurring almost too late. When he did finally take note of the movement, the Master of Malevolence drove his forces with relentless fury. The small groups of embattled demons were hunted, exterminated at times, and always decimated. Many of them survived nonetheless, and the resistance grew on the three hundred and sixty-sixth tier of the Abyss, the stratum of the demon brute, the layer that was Ojukalazogadit.