JollyDoc
Explorer
Precisely one hour later, the Legionnaires stood before a rune-carved doorway. Mandi wore her couatl-skin gown, while Marius had used a minor prestidigitation to buff and shine everyone else’s armor to a high sheen. Landerbold looked them over with a critical eye, and then led them through the door.
The room beyond had a domed golden ceiling and three windows that looked out on three different landscapes: one was a view of the River Styx; one was a view of a gray and wind-swept city of demons; and the third was a lush tropical island…perhaps the Isle of Dread? Sitting in the center of the room in another floating leather chair, and surrounded by floating books and disembodied whispers, was a woman with black hair and bright eyes. A leering quasit perched protectively atop the chair’s high back just over the woman’s head. Landerbold bowed deeply, then stepped into the shadows along the room’s walls. For a moment, Iggwilv ignored her guests completely, then she pushed one of the floating books aside and muttered an incantation in something that sounded a bit like Abyssal, or perhaps something older. She then waved the Legionnaires closer, and her chair descended until it floated only an inch off the floor.
“You seek my aid,” the Witch Queen said simply. “What is it that vexes you so that you would risk death in securing my assistance?”
Mandi went to her knees and bowed until her head touched the carpet. The others looked at one another and slowly followed suit…all save Sepoto and Tower Cleaver.
“Your Excellency,” Mandi began, rising to her feet once more, “we have come to seek your advice on a matter of dire urgency. The Prince of Demons seeks to increase his power in the multiverse, and we have come to stop him.”
Iggwilv looked bored.
“I was told you carry a copy of my book,” she said at length.
Mandi nodded and produced the Demonomicon.
“If you desire it, it is yours,” she said.
“It has always been mine,” Iggwilv replied, “but I thank you for retrieving it.”
Then she smiled, an expression at once seductive and terrifying. She bade her guests to be seated in the nearby chairs.
“Now, you will tell me everything…”
Some time later, their tale recounted in painstaking detail, the six companions sat very still, waiting for Iggwilv’s response.
“You are either very brave, or very foolish,” she said. “In either case, I sense the capacity for greatness in each of you. Had we met in a different time or under different circumstances, I would take action against you, crush you to paste and destroy all you hold dear before you could approach a point where you might be able to someday hurt me. That day may yet come, I suppose, yet it is not today. I will help you, but know that opposing the Prince of Demons is not an idle choice. It is a choice that changes your life, your very existence, for what comes after. Things will never be the same for you. For me as well, I suspect. And so, while I will aid you, each of you owes me. I shall collect upon this debt at some point in the future, in a manner of my choosing, and if you refuse to honor our bargain, rest assured I’ll enjoy extracting my price from your undying souls.”
“Get in line,” Sepoto muttered under his breath.
Iggwilv smiled sweetly, waved a hand, and tall glasses of wine appeared before them.
“Now,” she continued, “let us begin.”
With another wave of her hand, she conjured up a low table with a chessboard of bone and obsidian inlaid in its surface. The white pieces were carved in the likenesses of the Legionnaires and their allies, such as Lavinia. The black pieces were forms that were both familiar and not to those watching. One by one, Iggwilv began to pick up each black chess piece.
“Charon,” she intoned. “I see that you’ve already begun. Charon holds fresh rage for Demogorgon, and his position in the alliance is already secure. Well done.”
She placed the figure back on the board on a white square, and as she did so, the piece turned white as well.
“Ahhh, dear old Graz’zt,” she said, removing another black piece. “My Dark Prince. Only one in the Abyss detests Demogorgon as much as he, but unfortunately, Graz’zt is…embroiled, I suppose is the word…elsewhere, with a certain Queen of Spiders. Not that he’d be able to set aside his paranoia and ego long enough to join any alliance he hasn’t spearheaded. I’m afraid you’ll find no aid here.”
She dropped the piece into her lap with a smile.
“Here, however, you’ll find a kindred spirit,” she said, removing a ram-headed figure. “Orcus has had his share of troubles of late, and I dare say he may be open to the possibility of an alliance. Be warned, though. He does enjoy violence.”
She placed the piece on a white square, and it turned white as well.
Next, she picked up a piece carved to resemble an elven woman.
“Gwynharwyf, the so-called Whirling Fury.” Octurus’s eyes lit up as he heard the name. “This one you’ll have no problems gaining aid from, but you might find it difficult reaching her. And even then, her lover Morwel keeps her on a short leash in matters relating to Demogorgon. There was, shall we say, an incident several centuries ago. But do a few favors and she’ll be all yours.”
She placed the piece on a white square.
Next came a piece resembling a beautiful succubus.
“Malcanthet,” the name was bitter in Iggwilv’s mouth. “You may not realize it, but this vile slut’s been in the game for quite some time already. Longer than any of the others, apart from Demogorgon. Longer than you, in any event. But she’ll play hard to get. She might not be willing to donate an army, but I’m certain she’ll be willing to part with some of her charms if you ask nicely.”
Malcanthet joined the other white figures.
“I mentioned before that only one can match Graz’zt in his hatred of Demogorgon. This would be the one.”
She picked up an insectile-looking piece.
“Obox-ob ruled the Abyss once, long ago, before I was even a sparkle in the eye of the cosmos. He wants to rule here again, and while none of us particularly want that, he has his uses. He can’t be reasoned with, but he can be trusted to act upon his hatred. You’ll just need to determine a way to get him to where he’ll do the most damage.”
Obox-ob was then placed on a white square. There were only two black pieces left on the board. Iggwilv picked up one, a baboon-headed fiend.
“Bargromar. This one you may not recognize, but he serves close to Demogorgon. One of the twin generals of his armies, in fact. I don’t expect you’d be able to defeat him, but I’ve heard some most delicious rumors that he’s a bit dissatisfied with his lot of late…a spot of jealousy about his twin brother, Tetradarian, I suspect. And where’s there’s dissatisfaction, there can be dissent. I’m not sure how you can use that to your advantage, but you secured this audience with me, which tells me that you’re smooth talkers and resourceful, if nothing else.”
She placed Bargromar on the last white space. Only the piece representing Demogorgon himself remained. Iggwilv picked it up, turned it over in her hand as she studied it, then set it back down on a black square surrounded by the white figures. An eyebrow arched, and with a delicate finger, she tipped the piece over.
“Simple, no?”
The room beyond had a domed golden ceiling and three windows that looked out on three different landscapes: one was a view of the River Styx; one was a view of a gray and wind-swept city of demons; and the third was a lush tropical island…perhaps the Isle of Dread? Sitting in the center of the room in another floating leather chair, and surrounded by floating books and disembodied whispers, was a woman with black hair and bright eyes. A leering quasit perched protectively atop the chair’s high back just over the woman’s head. Landerbold bowed deeply, then stepped into the shadows along the room’s walls. For a moment, Iggwilv ignored her guests completely, then she pushed one of the floating books aside and muttered an incantation in something that sounded a bit like Abyssal, or perhaps something older. She then waved the Legionnaires closer, and her chair descended until it floated only an inch off the floor.
“You seek my aid,” the Witch Queen said simply. “What is it that vexes you so that you would risk death in securing my assistance?”
Mandi went to her knees and bowed until her head touched the carpet. The others looked at one another and slowly followed suit…all save Sepoto and Tower Cleaver.
“Your Excellency,” Mandi began, rising to her feet once more, “we have come to seek your advice on a matter of dire urgency. The Prince of Demons seeks to increase his power in the multiverse, and we have come to stop him.”
Iggwilv looked bored.
“I was told you carry a copy of my book,” she said at length.
Mandi nodded and produced the Demonomicon.
“If you desire it, it is yours,” she said.
“It has always been mine,” Iggwilv replied, “but I thank you for retrieving it.”
Then she smiled, an expression at once seductive and terrifying. She bade her guests to be seated in the nearby chairs.
“Now, you will tell me everything…”
Some time later, their tale recounted in painstaking detail, the six companions sat very still, waiting for Iggwilv’s response.
“You are either very brave, or very foolish,” she said. “In either case, I sense the capacity for greatness in each of you. Had we met in a different time or under different circumstances, I would take action against you, crush you to paste and destroy all you hold dear before you could approach a point where you might be able to someday hurt me. That day may yet come, I suppose, yet it is not today. I will help you, but know that opposing the Prince of Demons is not an idle choice. It is a choice that changes your life, your very existence, for what comes after. Things will never be the same for you. For me as well, I suspect. And so, while I will aid you, each of you owes me. I shall collect upon this debt at some point in the future, in a manner of my choosing, and if you refuse to honor our bargain, rest assured I’ll enjoy extracting my price from your undying souls.”
“Get in line,” Sepoto muttered under his breath.
Iggwilv smiled sweetly, waved a hand, and tall glasses of wine appeared before them.
“Now,” she continued, “let us begin.”
With another wave of her hand, she conjured up a low table with a chessboard of bone and obsidian inlaid in its surface. The white pieces were carved in the likenesses of the Legionnaires and their allies, such as Lavinia. The black pieces were forms that were both familiar and not to those watching. One by one, Iggwilv began to pick up each black chess piece.
“Charon,” she intoned. “I see that you’ve already begun. Charon holds fresh rage for Demogorgon, and his position in the alliance is already secure. Well done.”
She placed the figure back on the board on a white square, and as she did so, the piece turned white as well.
“Ahhh, dear old Graz’zt,” she said, removing another black piece. “My Dark Prince. Only one in the Abyss detests Demogorgon as much as he, but unfortunately, Graz’zt is…embroiled, I suppose is the word…elsewhere, with a certain Queen of Spiders. Not that he’d be able to set aside his paranoia and ego long enough to join any alliance he hasn’t spearheaded. I’m afraid you’ll find no aid here.”
She dropped the piece into her lap with a smile.
“Here, however, you’ll find a kindred spirit,” she said, removing a ram-headed figure. “Orcus has had his share of troubles of late, and I dare say he may be open to the possibility of an alliance. Be warned, though. He does enjoy violence.”
She placed the piece on a white square, and it turned white as well.
Next, she picked up a piece carved to resemble an elven woman.
“Gwynharwyf, the so-called Whirling Fury.” Octurus’s eyes lit up as he heard the name. “This one you’ll have no problems gaining aid from, but you might find it difficult reaching her. And even then, her lover Morwel keeps her on a short leash in matters relating to Demogorgon. There was, shall we say, an incident several centuries ago. But do a few favors and she’ll be all yours.”
She placed the piece on a white square.
Next came a piece resembling a beautiful succubus.
“Malcanthet,” the name was bitter in Iggwilv’s mouth. “You may not realize it, but this vile slut’s been in the game for quite some time already. Longer than any of the others, apart from Demogorgon. Longer than you, in any event. But she’ll play hard to get. She might not be willing to donate an army, but I’m certain she’ll be willing to part with some of her charms if you ask nicely.”
Malcanthet joined the other white figures.
“I mentioned before that only one can match Graz’zt in his hatred of Demogorgon. This would be the one.”
She picked up an insectile-looking piece.
“Obox-ob ruled the Abyss once, long ago, before I was even a sparkle in the eye of the cosmos. He wants to rule here again, and while none of us particularly want that, he has his uses. He can’t be reasoned with, but he can be trusted to act upon his hatred. You’ll just need to determine a way to get him to where he’ll do the most damage.”
Obox-ob was then placed on a white square. There were only two black pieces left on the board. Iggwilv picked up one, a baboon-headed fiend.
“Bargromar. This one you may not recognize, but he serves close to Demogorgon. One of the twin generals of his armies, in fact. I don’t expect you’d be able to defeat him, but I’ve heard some most delicious rumors that he’s a bit dissatisfied with his lot of late…a spot of jealousy about his twin brother, Tetradarian, I suspect. And where’s there’s dissatisfaction, there can be dissent. I’m not sure how you can use that to your advantage, but you secured this audience with me, which tells me that you’re smooth talkers and resourceful, if nothing else.”
She placed Bargromar on the last white space. Only the piece representing Demogorgon himself remained. Iggwilv picked it up, turned it over in her hand as she studied it, then set it back down on a black square surrounded by the white figures. An eyebrow arched, and with a delicate finger, she tipped the piece over.
“Simple, no?”
![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")