Dance of Demons

Chapter 4

Aswarm of Dumaldun skirmishers covered the field, their numbers and power obscuring all behind them. The tall, bounding dumaldun with their bristlecovered bodies and grinning, opossum heads seemed to be everywhere, discharging volleys of frozen-acid javelins, bringing forth clouds of poisonous, cloaking vapors, capering and daring the serried ranks of opposing demons to come forth and fight with them. The long line wavered.

"Stand fast there!" The command came from Vuron himself as the thin, white demon lord paced along behind the triple rank of mixed demon soldiery. "If any breaks formation, I will personally skin him inch by inch!" The troops heard and believed. Squat gila-monster demons, the fesroo type, braced as they stood with saw-edged glaives in the forefront of the horde. Immediately behind these reptilian demons Vuron had placed a like number of wulox, tall, thin creatures with storklike heads and spindly arms. Thin as those appendages might be, the albino general knew that the wulox could wield their needle-tined military forks well enough on any foe that managed to slip between the jagged blades used by the fesroo. In the third rank stood a mixed grouping of yet larger and more ferocious demons — goat-horned klebguzig with both pincers and fauchard-like mancatchers ready, tiny-winged gashnulfu whose pig eyes glittered as brightly as their pole axes, and even a few bat-faced raloogs, whose spiked flails and terrible swords would exact much from the enemy when the time came.

The first rank was held in place by the press of the bigger, fiercer second. In turn, the middle was kept still by the terrible third row of great demons who stood behind them, waiting. Behind all of them paced Vuron and his captains, the latter down to a handful now. Vastyi, the Master Toad, was there, still staying because of his hatred for Iuz. Palvlag too remained steadfast, and thus so did the company of raloogs, flame-demons whose might was feared by all lesser demonkind.

Hunched Nergel was at hand as well. Fear kept him allied with Graz'zt's viceroy, Vuron — fear of what the enemy would do to him even if Nergel abandoned the six-fingered king of the Abyss. Nergel had prosecuted the war too well by half ever to regain favor with Iuz, Orcus, and the rest, and after wreaking havoc in Mandrillagon's own palace, and kidnapping all of the demon prince's harem, there could never be peace with Demogorgon's faction either. Holding the line were Vuron, the three captains, and one other thing. The albino general in charge of Graz'zt's last horde also possessed the final third of the mightiest relic of Evil ever forged.

"Send out our own velites to disrupt those turds!" The urging came from the sharp-curved chest of Nergel as the crooked demon viewed the antics of the enemy skirmishers.

Vuron restrained the remark that sprang to mind. Instead, he pointed off to the side, at a scattering of cowering dretch and rutterkin. Those pitiful few were all that remained of the thousands which had filled the light corps at the beginning of the campaign. "Do you think they will serve?" the albino asked Nergel sweetly.

Nergel either ignored or missed the sarcasm. "What matter. Lord General? Their deaths will serve well enough."

"Yes, I suppose so," Vuron admitted. There was no way either force could use height to spy out the other side's position and movements. The ground was board-flat, and no demon taking to the air would survive more than a second or two. Hundreds of missiles, a score of dweomers were all ready for just such targets. If even a small break in the screening swarm of dumalduns could be made, it might be enough to allow Vuron a glimpse of the foe. "Find a squad of boorixtroi to drive them forth," the albino told Nergel, "and make the drivers themselves stay in the fight for as long as you can."

Nergel bowed and hastened off to comply. He loved to see death — any save his own. The hunched demon likewise hated the misshapen boorixtroi, for they reminded him too much of himself. The massive, stupid things with their disproportionately long right arms and shark-toothed, lipless mouths were too disgusting even for the likes of Kostchichie. Thus, the shuffle-footed giants were relegated to police work as it were.

If this tactic worked, Nergel would get most of the credit; that he'd see to. A failure could be laid squarely upon the pale head of Vuron. Either way would bring Nergel closer to Graz'zt's favor. He located a whole section of boorixtroi lounging out of sight behind the baggage train. "Up!" Nergel shouted, and the misshapen giants scrambled erect. "Come!" he ordered, and the dozen-plus things pounded clubbed feet upon stone-hard ground as they ran to obey the demon lord.

Just as he was about to send the boorixtroi and their whining charges out on a sweep around the right flank, however, Nergel was interrupted.

"Stop. You must wait a moment. Lord Nergel." The soft yet piercing order came from a dark elf. It was the beautiful Eclavdra, once high priestess of those who served Graz'zt on the material sphere known as Oerth, now the ebon demon king's vizier and lieutenant general of this force.

Sputtering, Nergel shot back, "Why so? This is impossible! Lord Vuron himself commanded my actions! I will proceed!"

"Be it on your. . shoulders, then," the dark elven female replied to the outburst. She had hesitated, then chosen the word "shoulders" carefully. Nergel was very touchy about his deformed bones there. Eclavdra saw the great demon noble's face become suffused with anger, his slablike cheeks grow lIvid, and his wattles quiver. Then she spoke softly again. "You see, I have Just spoken with General Vuron, and he sent me here to make certain you did not send forth the velites quite yet."

"You lie, bitch!" Nergel spat, then regretted it instantly. "No … I am overwrought. Lady Eclavdra — forgive the hasty words," the hunched demon managed, almost choking on his own speech. "Of course I believe you. . but let us go to our leader immediately to settle the discrepancy."

"Discrepancy? I find no discrepancy, captain. I gave you an order; you will carry it out to the letter."

Without a word Nergel swept past the drow, his uneven gait nearly a trot as he hastened off to find Vuron. Eclavdra followed serenely after the hobblehopping lord of the Abyss, a bland smile masking her lovely features so that no observer could read her emotions.

"She. . she prevented me from following your instructions, Vuron!" Nergel finally managed to blurt when he found the albino near the center of the array.

Vuron looked first at the dark elf, then down at Nergel. "Yes? So then, how did she countermand my orders?"

This time the hunched demonlord noticed the emphasis on the word as it spat from Vuron's hard mouth. "Time works against us, General, so I hastened to obey your. . order. . exactly as you commanded. In fact, I managed to locate twice the expected number of boorixtroi, too! Just as I was going to send them sweeping out to roll up the flank of the enemy harassers, that bi- er. . the lady general, said you had personally sent her to stop the attack!"

Vuron cocked a red-pink eye toward Eclavdra.

"My pardon. Lord Nergel, but I didn't say not to attack. I ordered you only to postpone the move," she concluded, looking squarely at the misshapen demon.

Before Nergel could counter, Vuron spoke. "As my second in command, Eclavdra has full authority to do as she did. Let us leave it at that, dear Nergel. Now please return to your position and make certain all is in readiness for the surprise attack on the enemy skirmishers. It will come soon, very soon."

Mollified at the soothing tone and respectful phrasing, the malformed demon lord hobbled off with only a single poisonous glare toward the dark elven priestess. Once he was out of earshot, Vuron asked, "What is this, Leda?"

By using that name for her, the beautiful little drow female knew that Vuron was asking for absolute sincerity and truth. Both commodities were as scarce as devas in the planes of the Abyss. Leda was her true name, at least as true as any name could be for a clone grown from another — in this case, one named Eclavdra.

Although she had sprung from a dark elf at least as evil and malign as any demon, Leda had been tempered by certain influences, ideologies, and deeds. Now, although she was not of demonkind, nor did she desire Evil, Leda served the demon king Graz'zt because it was the only hope she had that the forces of darkness would not wash over everything and extinguish Good forever. Similarly, despite his being a demon lord, Graz'zt's chief advisor and staunchest servitor, and moreover a believer in all that was evil, the dark elf trusted and had respect for the albino. Vuron's great intellect comprehended far more of the multiverse than any other demon's. That tempered his demonism, modified his thinking and actions. "I exaggerated, my Lord, in order to assure that the stroke you wished was made a telling one," she explained.

"Go on. ."

"Our king has sent me to you with reinforcements,

Vuron," Leda said with a note of encouragement in her voice. "Graz'zt knows that you face certain defeat from overwhelming numbers. When I gave him your intelligence, the full enumeration of the great hordes closing in on us here, he was furious at first; then he calmed down. Graz'zt vented his wrath on the idlers around his throne, though, and they, in turn, managed quite suddenly to produce fresh regiments of troops!"

"How many?" the albino general asked without any apparent emotion.

"A full regiment of the bar-lguras, my Lord. Dribs and drabs of babau-ogres, nikomars and ssilhex — about a regiment altogether. There are also two more regiments of fesroo coming soon, and four troops of chasme with them as support."

"Is that the whole?"

"Yes, Vuron."

"Too little far, far too little! Did you bring the lot?"

Leda shook her long, platlnum-hued hair in negation. "Only the bar-lguras and the mixed force of babau, nikomars, and ssilhex," she said slowly. She knew all too well that this was probably a useless token in the face of the horde of enemies who opposed them. Yet there was a scant hope. "The two regiments might be sufficient to trick the foe," she ventured.

"How so?" Vuron demanded.

"Prick the vile dumalduns as you were intent on. That will probably only serve to draw forth cacodaemon reinforcements. When they come, though, you will surprise them by a hook from the other flank by the two regiments of fresh soldiers. The sight of them should make the enemy commanders think we are staging a full-scale counterattack- "

"Yes, yes!" Vuron finished the thought for her. "Mandrillagon will panic and wish to withdraw. Demogorgon, however, will countermand that and instead send his whole mass forward, hoping to catch us and finish the matter in one decisive encounter. What then. .? Of course! The troops we use to screen our position will roll away to the left again, form a wing to counter any flanking moves made by the ape-heads. Every other demon I can round up will do the same on the right — the skirmishers, boorixtroi, and whatever else comes to hand. With the Theorpart, I hold the center. The enemy drives itself onto our pikes, and they die there!"

"It is much as I had thought," Leda said without any hint of taking credit.

Vuron nodded and went on. "But it is by no means a sure thing, and to truly succeed I will need the rest of the reinforcements as a reserve — and possibly a pursuit force. When will the fesroo and troops of chasme arrive?"

"They march through Jahklout," Leda told the albino commander, naming a minor layer that abutted the one they fought on. "There they will pick up the greatflys, the chasme. Yeenoghu promised to do his best to furnish a division of gholes with hyaenadons war-trained too, to be there also. I trust that not. In any event, the remainder will not be at hand for some length of time — three days, perhaps, as we drow measure time."

Vuron actually smiled at that. "No matter," he said with assurance. "Time can be subtly altered with this," he told Leda, displaying the twisted distortion that was the Theorpart. "I will employ Tharizdun's own tool against those who seek to free him. With this," he said, shaking the fraction of the relic, "I will bend time so that as seconds march away here, hours will parade past elsewhere — including Jahklout!"

Leda was uncertain. "But the enemy too possesses a Theorpart — two are against us, in fact, though only one here opposing us. Won't the time distortion be discovered? Countered?"

"Of course! It is most gratifying to see your powers of reasoning at work Graz'zt is well served by you, Leda. Still, he does not tell you all. I have the Eye of Deception here, too! If the enemy discovered that, Iuz and his scum would attack immediately, but the transfer was masked and a false aura remains opposing the cambion," Vuron explained. "Once we employ it here, it will be necessary to get it back to our liege quickly, but we have a brief advantage."

"You will use it to make your time distortion appear to be the opposite?"

"Yes, Leda. Even a Theorpart is not so powerful as to make time drag with halting step in a large area while it races elsewhere. Two portions of the arcane relic, though, are sufficient to accomplish that. As you use the Eye to falsify the effect, I will see to it that Demogorgon joins us in our scheme to hasten the arrival of our reinforcements." As he spoke that, the tall albino demon actually tittered. The image of the terrible Demogorgon unwittingly aiding in his own defeat was sufficient to cause such mirth even if the situation Vuron faced otherwise was bleak at best.

The dark elf felt no joy. "Give me the Eye of Deception, please, and let us begin at once. The swarm of enemy skirmishers masking the front surely presages some attack soon. There is no time to waste."

The demon lord cut his laughter short and composed himself with a visible effort. The strain of the long war was evidently beginning to tell on Vuron. "You are abrupt, drow," he almost snarled, "but correct. Here," Vuron said, drawing forth a leather case from inside his cloak Opening the box, the albino demon drew out a silken bag embroidered with sigils of fiery color. The thread was of orichaicum, and the shapes moved as if they were alive. "The Eye of Deception is within. Bring it forth and mask my channeling of dweomer when I raise my left hand, not before."

Far removed, Iuz and his cohorts wondered why Demogorgon and his allies from Hades and the other netherspheres were so dilatory in pressing their advantage. Graz'zt fought a war on two fronts. With Iuz was his mother, Iggwilv, greatest of witches, and an array of mighty demons, including Zuggtmoy, the cambion's nominal consort and the queen of all fungoid demons. The roster of powerful allies continued: Orcus, Szhublox, Eblls, Azazael, Bulumuz, Lugush, Marduk, Socoth-benothas, Var-Az-Hloo, Abraxas, and a score of lesser demon nobles too. With such a force confronting the would-be ruler of all the Abyss on one front, Graz'zt had shifted the vast majority of his forces to oppose them. That should have allowed the horde of Demogorgon to advance swiftly to threaten the great ebon demonking on the other front. Iggwilv had counseled that strategy, and Iuz had agreed.

As the one front crumbled, Graz'zt would have to shift soldiers there to bolster it. Demogorgon and Mandrillagon would then demand more reinforcements from Infestix. Devils, cacodaemons, dreggals, daemons, maelvis, and dumalduns in their tens of thousands would be poured into the attack by the master of the pits. Infestix would not allow his puppet demons to be checked, his plan to be thwarted.

As the forces led by the ape-headed Demogorgon and Mandrillagon swelled, Graz'zt would be forced to deploy still more of his own remaining strength to oppose them. Because the ebon demonking's territory was contracting, he would have fewer and fewer reserves. Quickly enough the pressure would be sufficient to cause a weakening of the line which opposed Iuz's own faction. Then, with a massive onslaught, all of the cambion's troops would attack. Graz'zt would be struck along the entire front, his defenses shattered at a blow, and his last stronghold would fall into Iuz's hands as if it were a ripe plum. But in order for that to occur, the reluctant Demogorgon had to begin pressure on the other side.

Could Infestix have realized the plan? Possible, but not likely. Even if the daemon had, his dedication to the cause of freeing Tharizdun demanded a continuing war upon Graz'zt, for the black lord of demons possessed one of the Theorparts necessary for Tharizdun's release, just as Iuz did. Naturally, Infestix thought to gam the one possessed by Graz'zt first, then to use two of the portions of the relic to defeat Iuz and his growing force of demons.

It would not occur that way. Never. Iuz would wrest the artifact turn the tables, and drive the invading enemy from the Abyss. Tharizdun would never be loosed, and Iuz would rule many places, including the Abyss and Oerth, too. Five days of inactivity. . What was the stupid fool Demogorgon doing? Then the scryers saw the other force opposing Graz'zt begin to move and brought the good news to the cambion.

"It is working?"

"Of course it is," Vuron responded without breaking his concentration on the time distortion he was building. Leda, meanwhile, was using the Eye of Deception — once the most potent artifact in the Abyss, now but a poor fourth to the three parts of the relic that could loose the ultimate entity of Evil, Tharizdun. With the Eye, the dark elf made Vuron's act appear to be hastening time on this battle plane. Leda did this openly, but not obviously. The opposing demon nobles would sense something amiss immediately, then move to discover and counter whatever their foe was doing. One minute of time to Vuron and her and all the others confronting each other was an hour elsewhere.

"I feel Demogorgon," the albino demon lord hissed. "Rash … he is as rash as we had hopedl Now he perceives we are tinkering with time. He finds it fast. He thinks we will use the distortion to some advantage, so he uses his Theorpart to slow it again, to balance our effort, nullify it."

"And. .?" Leda whispered, unsure of the success.

"In the second it took you to ask girl." the pale demon lord replied, "an hour passed in the other layers of the Abyss. The fool has multiplied our work.

One Theorpart slows time by a factor of sixty, so that a second passes as a minute, a minute an hour. Two multiply that again, and one second is now one hour!"

"What next?"

"Stay as you are, Leda," Vuron commanded. "The ape-heads must not know they have been duped yet. I will see to the attacks now, have Nergel make his sweep, personally command the left thrust. Mandrillagon will recoil, then Demogorgon will advance with his entire force. You will cease the delusion immediately upon arrival of the Jahklout force — it is probable that by then I'll have returned here, but…"

"You will be back to manage the main assault when Demogorgon comes?" Leda's voice held no fear as she asked that, but it was evident that in the area of command she felt inferior to Vuron.

"Palvlag is quite capable of managing the left flank I go there only to beguile the enemy into believing that the move is a major threat, so that Mandrillagon will react as we wish, and Demogorgon too. I will be back never fear, but now I must hurry, for we have spent too much time already, and the foe certainly will strike us soon."

She understood the latter. She could feel the approach of Mandrillagon, even though the simian demon lord was doing his utmost to disguise his movement and intent "Death to the foe," Leda said perfunctorily as she renewed her concentration on the Eye. Vuron didn't hear, for the thin albino general of the demon army was already on his way to the left flank of the long, triple-tiered line.

He found Palvlag at the very end of the formation. The demon was the last of the elder ones, now that Pazuzeus and Shabriri were no more. He who had been the least of them alone survived now. Vuron couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be the last of his own sort. . He dismissed the thought quickly.

Palvlag was busily marshalling the new arrivals, evidently planning to use the bar-lgura unit as a flank guard, and the mixed formation as a reserve against a breakthrough of his portion of the front. Vuron liked the initiative shown by the protodemon. It was the sort of care and forethought that had probably been instrumental in Palvlag's ability to survive through the millennia. That, coupled with his hatred of Infestix and all those allied to the daemon ruler in any fashion, made Palvlag the most reliable of the greater demons serving Graz'zt — and Vuron himself, the albino added mentally.

Although he wasn't sure, Vuron thought that Shabriri had been some blood relation to Palvlag; not a brother, but a cousin or uncle, perhaps. The two of them had been as friendly and close as ones of demonkind ever became. When Shabriri had been slam because of Gravestone's bumbling, and because the latter had been Infestix's tool, the last of the protodemons had sworn a terrible oath, witnessed by Vuron at Palvlag's request. Palvlag would never rest until the master of the pits was no more, and he cared not if his own existence was snuffed out in the process.

"My Lord General?" Palvlag said with curt politeness when he finally noticed Vuron nearby, watching.

"Death to the enemy. Lord Captain," the albino demon responded formally. "Order the mixed regiment to the left flank of the bar-lgura immediately. Then you will command it as both units wheel out and sweep across the front parallel to our main line."

"There are naught but dumaldun trash there to fight. . Even as he said that Palvlag's eyes clouded, going from burning orange to dull gold. Then all four suddenly lit up more fiercely than before. "Yes, General Vuron, I obey. I can sense Mandrillagon's approach. He is near! Who is to have overall command here, though?"

It was a logical question. "I will accompany you, Palvlag. The enemy must think this is more than two regiments attacking, that I plan a major offensive movement. At any time, however, I may have to leave the area. The moment that happens, you will become commander again. Is that clear?"

"Most clear. General. Mandrillagon will probably panic at our approach. He will withdraw, and we will inflict severe casualties on whatever troops are there. Then the enemy will respond in some fashion, and your presence will be needed elsewhere."

Vuron gave the ancient protodemon a cold smile. "You are ever astute. Captain Palvlag. I will be sure to inform our liege lord of that. Graz'zt needs good generals."

"Generals? I care not a single turd for that," Palvlag spat. "I wish only to slay those who serve- "

"Enough! Carry out my orders, Palvlag. I know of your vendetta." He watched as the protodemon sped off, took charge of the body of mixed babau-ogres, nikomars, and the snaky ssilhex. The unit responded in clumsy fashion, but the troops seemed obedient and willing enough. Even as Palvlag marched it into position, though, there was a din along the front nearby. Mandrillagon and whatever force he commanded had begun their attack.

At the opposite end of the long line Nergel had Just sent his sweepings forth to harass the enemy skirmishers. The dumaldun were at least a match for the rutterkin and dretch, so those in the area began to cluster around the few hundred demon foes and fight. Then Nergel himself took the field, with the shambling boorixtroi on either hand. Dumaldun flew through the air, some dead, some dying, some in dismembered segments and serving as missiles. The hunched demon lord captain relished the slaughter, and in his mind he pictured it all clearly, putting it into a pattern that could be easily picked up by Vuron.

Nergel was so delighted by the success that he was careless. The message meant for his superior was broadcast too widely. The distant lords serving Demogorgon managed to snare the thought-picture and alert their master. And just then, another bit of information came to them.

"Lord Nergel," Leda called mentally, using more than the usual strength in the process. "Please receive this information." As she telepathically informed him of the important news, the dark elven priestess also pictured what was occurring around her. The scene sprang into the crooked demon's mind, Nergel was even further elated — and the enemy was even better informed.

Two regiments of the stolid fesroo soldiery were only a few minutes away from joining his foray around the right flank The gila monster-visaged demons were obviously fresh and full of fight. Noble ssilhex led them. They were all Nergel's to command. Better still, massed just behind them were other reinforcements: companies of ghouls holding massive hyaenadons; battalions of ravening gholes, the trolls of ghoulkind; and finally at the rearmost position a brigade of tall gnoles, hyaena-headed demonlings of no great power but in numbers sufficient enough to be useful. With these were the fiercest of their sort, the ghulaz. It was sufficient to make the demon lord send forth peals of hideous, rippling laughter, as if Nergel were imitating the calls of the carrion beasts that approached.

"Yeenoghu's spawn!" he shouted aloud. "This means that Graz'zt has at least released some strength to us — to me! I command! Now, you sodden lumps of petaled flowers!" he called, shaking his gnarled fist in the direction of Demogorgon's position across the broad plain, using the foulest of names he could conjure to name his foes. "You sweet-smelling butterflies! Now you will howl under my heel!"

Clearly the pictures from Nergel's mind came to the watchers, and they relayed all just as quickly to their twin-headed master, Demogorgon. The great demon immediately had reserves brought up to be ready for the coming attack, but otherwise he remained waiting. Mandrillagon was Just striking the demon left with a corps of troops from outside the Abyss: a devil legion, a division of dreggals from Gehenna's depths, daemons and cacodaemons from Hades and Tarterus. The formation was echeloned so that it would first overlap the line Vuron had drawn, then strike it successive blows from the edge toward the middle. The legion of devils would meanwhile fall upon the flank and rear. If that succeeded, then the sudden addition to the enemy force on its right would be useless — better than useless. It would help in the destruction of the whole.

"Desperate trouble!" That was a panicky message sent by Mandrillagon.

Over the confused images being sent, Demogorgon sorted out what he could with one of his brains while the other head mentally asked, "What is it?"

"Renegade filth! The devils, the whole legion of them, were caught on the flank and ran away!" The words were accompanied by Mandrillagon's images of the occurrence. Antlered cohorts, devils of red hue and black scaled, bristled, spined. Attacking them were thousands of bounding, leaping furies, the gorilloid demons called bar-lgura. "How did the sixfingered mound of perfume gather so many?" Mandrillagon referred to Graz'zt, of course, and his consternation came from the fact that most of such demons as those who had routed the devils were dwellers on the spheres ruled by himself.

"Who cares?" his master telepathically returned with acidic thought. "I want all the picture now!"

Mandrillagon cringed mentally and physically but managed to comply. "It was the eunuch, Vuron, with the Theorpart — Palvlag, too. The fossil leads a whole corps of fresh troops." As he said that in his mind, the baboon-headed demon allowed pictures of the horde that Palvlag led to come to the surface of his thoughts.

"Bah! A few thousand of the babau-ogres, saucer-eyed nikomars in lesser numbers, and erhaps a thousand ssilhex. You are influenced by fear — by cowardice!"

"And the vaunted devils, prince?" Mandrillagon queried with derision. Demons near to him shrank back for the monstrous creature's face was contorted in fury, and his small eyes flamed with hatred. "Were they too moved by such fright?"

That made Demogorgon pause. He assessed all he had learned carefully. On the left of the enemy host, their general and strongest sub-commander were in the process of hooking around. Perhaps it was only a weak attack but it was an aggressive move. The force on the opposite end of their position was stronger, even though only Neigel was there to lead. . Perhaps that was a false assumption. "Withdraw slowly, cousin. Save what troops you can. Strike if possible at pursuit. When you've disengaged fully, set up a defensive position, then report here to me."

Without waiting for a reply, Demogorgon closed his mind. He had to find out exactly what was transpiring on the right of Vuron's front. The albino one was sly and tricky. If he appeared on one side, Demogorgon suspected that he had better watch the other closely. One of the scryers was nearby. A score of powerful ahazu-demons served the two-headed demon king as officers and watchers. "What force now on our left?"

"Rot the foe," the square-shaped demon responded, "and may your power wax over all. Great Demogorgon. Ten thousand of the fesroo newly come are at work there. We have seen the arrival of half again as many of the subjects of Yeenoghu, my Liege. More I cannot venture. . "

So! Fresh troops in some numbers. If so many were apparent, then there were probably more hidden. No matter. Even if the black one had sent twice that many, and Lord Yeenoghu with them. It was too little. Vuron and Palvlag far to the left; Nergel, possibly Yeenoghu, on the far right. The long line, the center, would have only the weakling toad-kisser.

Vastyi, to command — he and the drow bitch Eclavdra. Demogorgon began to issue orders with both heads.

"Screen both of our flanks strongly. A corps of hordlings on our right should hold any advance by the enemy there. Send three divisions of dreggals to the left," the demon prince's leftmost head commanded simultaneously. "Send for my war bands of dusins, all of them. The reserve of mixed demons, too. Every daemon company and all of the remaining dumalduns as well are to advance when the iron gongs are beaten!"

Demogorgon meant to strike the enemy now, squarely in the center of their long, thin line. Vuron's position was attenuated, the albino had put himself out of place, and both flanks were busy attacking. This was the perfect time for a counterstroke, a blow that would break the enemy in the middle and bring total defeat to them. Fifty thousand dusins, fearless and tough, with crocodile Jaws and iron weapons, his own guards, would be the point that would break the foe's front and pierce its heart. With superiority of six to one, there could be no doubt that they would triumph. To be on the safe side, though, Demogorgon decided to accompany the assault in person, bringing with him the Theorpart that Infestix had placed in his charge. The power of the relic would assure that no leader of the foe managed to interfere.