Gary Gygax - Gord the Rogue 3 - Sea of Death

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SEA OF DEATH

by Gary Gygax

Gord the Rogue series, book 3

GORD STARTED TO SHOUT with glee as the chain-enwrapped globe

bounced and rolled across the temple floor. His gaze followed it as it

weaved this way and that, then the young man's eyes widened and his

delight was cut short. The globe came to a stop at the feet of a small

figure, not much taller than the ball of translucent material itself, who

had just stepped into the chamber. Gord recognized him at once, and

spat his name under his breath as if it were a curse.

"Obmi! You dirty toad! I'll—"

The dwarf did not hear that remark, but even if he had he could not

have scowled any more blackly as he looked up at Gord hanging onto the

chain high above the floor. "Bolt, bring down that monkey!" he

commanded, pointing toward Gord.

"Yes, lord," the wizard replied. A bolt of crackling energy shot from

the spell-caster's fingertips. The purplish-blue flash of electricity hit

the thick metal chain and made an eerie, fiery light play up and down its

length. An aura of light surrounded Gord's form, and he fell like a stone,

hitting the floor feet first and then collapsing with a dull plop, burned

and unmoving.

The quest for a prize that will either save the world — or destroy it!

Illustrated by Jerry Tiritilli

Edited by Kim Mohan

First Printing, June 1987

ISBN: 0-441-75676-X

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my daughters Elise, Heidi, and Cindy,

because I love them! All three of them have adventured within the

realms of Oerth... and one might possibly read this work, too.

Scanned, formatted and proofed by Dreamcity

Ebook version 1.0

Release Date: February 10, 2004

Chapter 1

"HAIL TO GRAZ'ZT, King of the Abyss!" chorused a throng of

demons in voices that chirruped, bellowed, grated, squawked, and

growled.

"King Graz'zt, Conqueror of Prince Ariax!" a huge, multi-armed, snake-

bodied demoness called in clarion voice. Lamia, succubi, and the menagerie

of others there echoed the cry, raising a noise that would have been

incomprehensible and horrifying to human or demi-human ears.

A huge, ebony figure stood receiving the adulation. His smile was

charming, despite the fangs it revealed. This figure, his body seemingly

carved from polished obsidian, raised a six-fingered hand. In but a

moment the horde of demons fell silent, and

Graz'zt

spoke.

"King you proclaim me — and King I am! My recent victory over Ariax

now extends our domain over fully eight planes. We rule the heart of the

Abyss — and soon the rest will bow!" Pausing for a moment to allow the

disparate demons to issue their noises of accolade, the newly made

monarch stood with pride and delight written on his dark face as the

adulation washed over him. Then his demeanor changed ever so slightly.

"Enough!" he thundered, and the throng became still. The self-proclaimed

king gestured toward a grotesque, hyena-headed figure on his right and

spoke again.

"Honor belongs to Our Good Right Hand, Prince Yeenoghu. Cheer him

as Our new Viceroy!" Graz'zt roared, motioning for the demon to stand,

and again the discordant chorus sounded. He waited for the initial

outburst to peak and begin subsiding, then cut off the noise and ordered

Yeenoghu to sit again by lowering his hand.

"Give glory to Our Marshal, Lord Kostchtchie!" bellowed Graz'zt,

raising his left hand, and a massive demon stood on the king's left as this

call for recognition was made. His jaundiced skin hairless except for

jutting bristles above deep-set eyes, the bandy-legged Kostchtchie

leered and raised his huge iron hammer over his head.

Despite Graz'zt's command, only a faint hooting and gibbering of

acclaim sounded. The squat demon was so loathsome that even the throng

of lessers found it hard to voice applause. Kostchtchie seemed delighted

at this, even though his round of applause, such as it was, did not last as

long as Yeenoghu's had. By the time Graz'zt lowered his left hand and

Kostchtchie sat again, the noise had all but died out. Graz'zt ended the

silence with his next pronouncement.

"Prince Yeenoghu and Lord Marshal Kostchtchie will now accompany

Me... elsewhere," the king said. At that, there was a babble of sound; the

audience was clearly surprised. According to what he himself had

announced years ago, Graz'zt was being forced by an other-worldly power

to remain here in Mezzafgraduun, three hundred thirty-third layer of

the Abyss, for years and even decades longer. The new king allowed the

demons and assembly of creatures who served him and his associates to

continue their murmuring and muttering for a short time, then spoke

again.

"Silence!" he bellowed, and the crowd obeyed. "Do you doubt Me?"

Graz'zt asked, and a stupid toad-demon nearby gave a short croak in

response. It was a harmless gesture, for the thing simply intended to

indicate its acceptance of its monarch's claim, no matter if it was true or

not. But Graz'zt, incensed by what he saw as an affirmative answer to his

question, raised his hand toward the offender, and a beam of black

radiance shot from his palm. The demon shrieked as the bolt struck it,

and its face contorted in agony. The thing's body arched, its muscles

contracting so as to hurl it upward. The demon was disintegrating into a

puddle of gore even before what remained of its body touched the

ground again.

"Who doubts now?" said Graz'zt, and the members of the assemblage

not only remained silent but fell prone in homage to their king. Graz'zt

allowed a thin smile to play across his face for a moment before

continuing.

"Vuron, Our Lord Steward, will rule in Our brief absence. Obey him,

or face My wrath upon Our return!" At that, Graz'zt turned and

departed the amphitheater, a vast, seemingly natural bowl of nacreous

material, with his attendant nobles and train in tow. After the royal

procession came a stream of the demonlings that were Graz'zt's

subjects. Fluttering and hopping, slithering and flying, lumbering and

rolling, the motley subjects raised a hideous din in Graz'zt's wake.

Across and over ground resembling opals they trod and soared and crept,

leaving the pearly-surfaced theater of audience to swarm across the

park that surrounded that place.

Their king paid no heed to their noise or their trampling of the

delicate ferns, nodding blossoms, and flowering shrubs that covered the

landscape of the park. If all of Mezzafgraduun were as disconcertingly

beautiful as the Royal Demesne, then this tier of the Abyss would be

indeed a paradise. Translucent trunks of a luminous dove-gray hue

supported luxuriant leaves of shining black, gently waving and soughing in

the little breezes that played through the tops of these weird trees.

Beneath the palms and cedars grew thick, soot-colored grasses and

riotous profusions of tropical vegetation in shades of gray and ebony.

Rainbow-hued insects and birds filled the exotic jungle. Monkeylike

creatures leaped around in the upper foliage, making streaks and flashes

of lemon yellow and electric blue. Brightly colored deer and other smaller

creatures bounded and scampered amid the black vegetation, their coats

shining as if they were covered with jewels.

A vulture-demon fell upon a nest of peacocklike birds, gleefully

rending and tearing adults and chicks. A baboon-demon playfully chased

and beheaded several monkeys, using claws and teeth to accomplish its

sport. Bloody destruction spread in a swath across the paradisiacal

gardens of King Graz'zt, and the monarch smiled benevolently as he

viewed the sight. "When One's subjects are frolicking in play," the

handsome ruler noted to those around him, "then no other mischief is

brewing."

With a slight turn of his head, Graz'zt got the attention of the tall,

sticklike demon who walked several respectful paces behind him. "Lord

Vuron," he said, "be sure to restock Our parks — and add some larger,

noisier creatures for more sport, too — while We are gone. In fact, you

may declare a Chase in Our name."

The leathery-skinned Vuron bowed in Graz'zt's direction before he

responded. "You are masterful in your entertainments, mighty king," said

the steward. "Your generosity and thoughtfulness will be praised by all."

"Of course," Graz'zt said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Kostchtchie, a demon accustomed to frozen wastes and frigid winds,

was sweating profusely in the tropical setting of the king's domain, and

his stench was clearly repugnant to many of the creatures in his vicinity,

even as repulsive as they themselves were. But Graz'zt, delighted with

his surroundings and his situation, showed neither any sign of being put

off by Kostchtchie's odor nor any concern for his new marshal's

discomfort. Surrounded by beautiful succubi and lamias, Graz'zt entered

the many-porticoed, gold-bedecked sprawl of his palace. Prior to his

departure, the king would be the host and guest of honor at a royal

banquet to celebrate his recent triumph. The victory heralded far

greater accomplishments to come, and Graz'zt reveled in his thoughts as

he considered what the future would bring.

* * *

"The Ambassadors of the kings of the Tiger and Wolf tribes are

awaiting your pleasure, Lord of Evil." The priest spoke these words

haltingly, humility dripping from every phrase, as he addressed the

withered old man who sat facing him.

"Emperor

of Evil!" thundered the old man, his chest heaving with the

effort.

High Priest Modu-Koduz, Chamberlain of his god Iuz, threw himself

prone and begged for mercy, writhing in fear. After the priest had

engaged in a sufficient amount of groveling, Iuz excused the error.

"You are useless and stupid, Modu-Koduz, but I must make do with

the poor tools given to Me. Now, go — fetch these filthy nomads to stand

and pay homage to Me. Such continual demands are wearisome, but We

will bear up staunchly under them."

As the trembling chamberlain rushed to do Iuz's bidding, the form

seated on the massive heap of bones and skulls that formed his throne

seemed to flow and change. One minute he was a wrinkled, toothless old

man; the next, he was a massive, demoniac monster — a cambion, as those

of his ilk were called — with pale reddish skin and pointed fangs lining his

jaws. This form is more suitable for fools such as these barbaric

horsemen," Iuz muttered to himself. The subjects of his in attendance

were too far from his chair of state to hear the remark, and it was not

intended for their ears — but they would have certainly voiced their

agreement with his statement if they had overheard.

In the past month Iuz had received homage from all the petty rulers

of the Bandit Kingdoms, tribute from the Hold of Stonefist, the

submission of all the chiefs who remained in the lands that once belonged

to the Horned Society, and the respects of a seemingly endless stream

of humanoid leaders who had come to swear fealty to Iuz as their liege

lord and deity. Now, with the deputation of the wild nomad horsemen of

the Tiger and Wolf tribes to the north, came the greatest triumph of all.

These human savages would serve to weld Iuz's whole scheme into hard

reality. The cambion chuckled happily just as the chamberlain's voice

rang out from beyond the entrance to the royal chamber.

"Emperor Iuz, Lord of Pain, and soon Ruler of all Oerth!" proclaimed

Modu-Koduz. The echoes of his shout still remained as the fur-draped

nomad warriors entered Iuz's chamber to pay their homage. Iuz

accepted the ambassadors' words of praise and gifts, bestowed presents

upon them in return, and delivered his usual message, in the form of a

lecture demanding their unswerving loyalty — with the admonition that

the riches and favors he had granted could be taken away just as easily,

and that would not be the end of the punishment visited upon anyone

whose devotion was found lacking.

The ambassadors left then, and soon the vast hall was deserted

except for the lowly, vaguely humanoid demons that stood permanent

guard therein. Emperor Iuz had gone off to hold council with those who

now considered themselves his peers, but who he vowed would soon

enough be his subjects — just as surely as all the nations of Oerth would

eventually bow to him.

* * *

Shape without form, illumination without light, events occurring in

timelessness. Such was the nature of the null-space brought into being by

Iggwilv, or so it was perceived by those with her. Perhaps the greatest of

witches, as she was known by some, actually did create this no-place, or

perhaps she merely enabled herself and the others to gain access to it.

The truth of this was unimportant; what did matter was that Iggwilv had

provided the means by which she and the other practitioners of evil could

meet.

The witch was incredibly ancient, older even than old Iuz — in fact,

Iggwilv was the mother of the cambion who had designs on all of Oerth.

Iggwilv's infamy reached beyond Oerth to other worlds that paralleled it

and occasionally touched it for a time. Ychbilch she was called on one of

these worlds, Louhi on another. No matter by what name or title she was

known, she was who she was — mistress of dweomercraefting, mother of

Iuz, worker of malign plots against those of Good... and sometimes even

those of Evil. She sat at ease and in comfort now, displaying the

voluptuous beauty of one of the forms she was capable of taking. Perhaps

this was Iggwilv's true appearance; be that as it may, even so gorgeous a

face as the one she wore now could not mask the evil that dwelled within

her.

With her — and

with

is the only method of describing location in such

a nullity as the place she was, for no directions existed, no places, no

discernible order — were others. Iuz was here, proud and tall in his

demoniac form, wearing finery and bearing his massive sword. Also here

was a pulsating mound of fungi, upon and around which hopped and

crawled a large toad of exceptional ugliness. The mound was none other

than Zuggtmoy, Demoness Queen of Fungi — Iuz's lady, his ally... and his

ruler? The cambion would have sneered at this last suggestion; Iggwilv

would have laughed at it. Zuggtmoy would have made no comment

whatsoever, for she too was what she was.

In the same non-place as these three beings came three others,

absent one instant and present the next: jet-black Graz'zt, hyena-

headed Yeenoghu, and disgusting Kostchtchie. Just as those who were

separate from these three carried weapons and who knew what else in

their arsenals, each mighty demon on the other side bore implements as

well — Graz'zt his undulating-bladed sword, Yeenoghu his renowned flail,

Kostchtchie his favored hammer. The gathering was a tense one at best,

and a hostile one at worst, as these tokens of death so visibly

demonstrated. Mutual trust among such beings as these was

inconceivable, and all of them knew it.

After a series of curt introductions and acknowledgments, Graz'zt

addressed Iuz directly and got right to the heart of what he assumed

the conclave concerned. The object is Mine by right, and you

will

deliver

it forthwith!" said the self-proclaimed king in a thundering tone.

"I shall do nothing of the kind," Iuz shot back disdainfully.

The bandy-legged giant and the lowering, hyena-headed demon both

made menacing gestures toward the cambion as he uttered this rejection.

A wave of menacing thought flowed from Zuggtmoy, and a soft warning

from Iggwilv checked all of them.

Graz'zt

frowned slightly but then

smiled and spoke again.

"Son and Prince of Oerth, be not alarmed at My demand," he said in

what passed for a soothing voice. "It is most reasonable. Remember that

had I not assisted, you never would have come as far as you have. The

object—"

"Is one which I wrested from peril with Dear Queen Zuggtmoy's aid,"

interjected Iggwilv. Ignoring the scowl that came over Graz'zt's

countenance, the great witch added, "As mother of Iuz, I must have full

right in deciding the disposition of the... item in question."

"That's right, dear," gurgled Zuggtmoy. "Don't let that stupid male

push you around."

"Stupid?!" roared the black demon prince, barely able to control

himself.

Iggwilv was not impressed by his outburst. "It

stupid to ask Our

offspring for a tool you

know

he needs for the little things he still must

do," she pointed out.

Graz'zt gritted his fangs and said, "Your choice of the word

little

apt indeed, Iggwilv. There is a question of whole planes at stake, and you

and that amorphous pile of— "

"I'll show you just how amorphous

you

can be!" Zuggtmoy boomed as

she grew in the space of two seconds into a massive fungoid shape

resembling an oliphant. Even as she did so, a pool of glistening slime began

to come into being, gathering at her pseudopodial extremities.

"The treaty is broken!" Yeenoghu barked in his giggling, hyenalike

basso as he noted the growing mass of repulsive stuff. "Beware, King

Graz'zt — the bitch is bringing in her kinsdemon, Szhublox!"

At that, Graz'zt began shouting syllables that made the air shimmer.

As he did this, Iggwilv and Iuz likewise uttered rasping, throat-twisting

words. Major demons, minor ones, humans, and dark elves began to pop

into existence all over the null-space that had formerly been tailored for

the presence of no more than the original six beings. The nullity

stretched and shifted, trying to accommodate the sudden influx of new

residents into its nothingness. Non-color of a different sort began to

appear, running in veins and seams such as those that appear when ice

begins to crack or rock develops fissures during an earthquake.

Upon seeing the effects of what she and the others had wrought,

Iggwilv thought better of trying to fight. The battleground itself

seemed to be in jeopardy from this venture, and if it collapsed, who knew

what would happen to its occupants? "Stop! We will all be destroyed!" the

witch cried out in warning.

Graz'zt, realizing the same thing that Iggwilv had perceived, ordered

his servants to desist, but not before Kostchtchie and Yeenoghu had

each slain a pair of demonlings. In the same short span of time, Szhublox

had enslimed and otherwise rudely handled several of the rampaging

minions summoned by Graz'zt and his allies. Then the melee ceased. Most

of the figures that had been called by the principals winked back out of

the no-place, returning to wherever, they came from. When the shifting

and shaking of the null-space had ceased, a few of the lesser

demonspawn on each side still remained. A cluster of lamias and succubi

floated behind and to the sides of Graz'zt and his cohorts, and an equal-

sized group of vulture-demons and toad-demons arrayed themselves in a

rank behind Zuggtmoy and Iuz. Iggwilv was off to one side, seeming

slightly closer to Iuz than to Graz'zt, but still arguably holding a position

between the two instead of being grouped with the former.

The presence of a few spectators does not seem to threaten the

integrity of this place," Iggwilv announced sternly. The others took her

at her word, accepting that she knew more of the nature of this null-

space than any of them did. The witch continued, concern and sincerity

evident in her tone. "But they must be spectators

only.

They are free to

leave or stay, and while they stay they can see us and our actions but

cannot decipher our words. This place was meant for us alone, and only we

can fully communicate with one another. The others could move to attack,

if anyone foolishly directs them to do so, but if a conflict breaks out and

they become involved, we cannot be sure that

any

of us will persevere if

this place is torn asunder!" The witch was clearly overwrought by the

time she finished this lecture. For a moment or two, a strained silence

enveloped the weird pocket of null-space as all those present weighed the

importance of Iggwilv's words.

"Now... We must talk, not quarrel," Iggwilv said sweetly, regaining her

composure.

"Yes, yes!" said Graz'zt with a tinge of sarcasm. "By all means let us

return to our amiable parlay!" he guffawed. Then his tone turned serious

again as he continued, addressing Iggwilv. "Your treacherous behavior is,

as always, dear human, so monumental, your expectations so incredible,

that I am most amused. Even as it was, the repulsive toad hopping about

on that pile of fungus tipped the balance in your favor, four to three.

Fortunately for all of you, that worthless creature is of no consequence,

and I could dispatch it with a single gesture if I so chose. But now

Szhublox comes — another matter altogether! Do you really think We will

consent to that puddle of slime joining this conclave?"

"Your madness and lust are what bring conflict between us always,"

Iggwilv replied condescendingly. "The toad is obviously a niggling, just as

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SEAOFDEATHbyGaryGygaxGordtheRogueseries,book3GORDSTARTEDTOSHOUTwithgleeasthechain-enwrappedglobebouncedandrolledacrossthetemplefloor.Hisgazefolloweditasitweavedthiswayandthat,thentheyoungman'seyeswidenedandhisdelightwascutshort.Theglobecametoastopatthefeetofasmallfigure,notmuchtallerthantheballoftra...

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