While men and demihumans and humanolds made war in and on the Flanaess, all of the netherworld likewise fought in that domain. The albino demon lord Vuron led the demons' attack upon those who would wrest the Theorpart from his liege, Graz'zt. His genius was great, and the swarming demon creatures who obeyed Vuron's commands overran their foes time after time. Up from the unspeakable depths of the Abyss swarmed more and more demons eager to serve. More and more of the lords of the Abyss named Graz'zt as monarch of their foul plane. Only the mightiest of the princes — Zortolagon, Orcus, Mandrillagon, and Ushablator the Chaos Horror — remained opposed to the new king. Of course they fought each other as well as Graz'zt, so although those who refused fealty commanded fully half of all demoniacal power, their own factiousness made them Impotent.
Vuron strode across the pitchy plane of Tarterus and hammered on the gates of Hades itself. Cacodaemons from Pandemonium marched with daemon and demon under Vuron's command. There they were met by the legions of the hells, now likewise armed with a mighty instrument of evil, and Nerull's glooms shook under the impact of the crash of devil and demon ranks colliding.
The gods of Weal then fell upon the marches of the Nine Hells, harried Pandemonium, and brought destruction to any sort of evil found campaigning outside its own black realm. Some assistance too they gave to the men and demihumans of Oerth, but none of it was enough. The lords of light themselves were at odds, and Iuz's strength was too great for anything but a completely unified opposition.
The very stuff of creation groaned under the weight of the magic and power unleashed in the manifold battles across space, time, and probability. On the gameboard of the multiverse, the pawns and pieces of black swept outward to slay those of dull purple, rust red, and other colors. Those of gold captured pieces of tawny and red, while the forces of white fell upon gray, and the blue position remained aloof. Huddled in the center, the little array of emerald warriors formed itself into a ring and waited.
The One of Greatest Evil still lay comatose, fettered, and locked in unbreachable imprisonment. Perhaps the incarceration would not last forever, yet at the moment there seemed to be no need for his release. Fear and terror, strife and slaughter, reigned everywhere, and the malign was surely coming into ascendance. All portions of the Theorpart were in play now; conjoined or not, their evil influence was growing ever stronger, more pervasive. Perhaps this darkness was what kept the forces of Good from uniting. At any rate, that was not a topic for debate. The only fact that mattered was that demoniacal hordes were marching triumphantly, both on Oerth and throughout the planes of the netherworld.
* * *
"An emissary from Hades is here, dread master."
Vuron gave his full attention to the ahazu-demon who addressed him. The lank, long-armed monster was known as Talonclasp. The demon's ability was great, and Vuron had recently promoted the ahazu to command of the Cacodaemon Horde. The force was still posted as his own guard, so the ahazu-demon was remaining as Vuron's chief of staff until the cacodaemons were moved into combat.
"Emissary?" Vuron asked with a sneer. "What minion of Nerull dares venture into my hand so?"
Talonclasp managed to meet the pink eyes of the albino demon lord without submissiveness or challenge evident in his own gaze. "The netherhag Sekculintig is the visitor. Lord Vuron. She is coven-mistress of all—"
"Yes, yes. I know who the hag is, and I am aware of her power as well," the albino interrupted. "Now why would Nerull send her... or has she come of her own volition?" The question was obviously Vuron's way of thinking aloud, so the ahazu stood rigidly silent. Vuron noted this and approved. "Did she volunteer anything. Talonclasp?"
"No, dread master. The hag simply commanded that I announce her to you personally."
"As I had presumed," Vuron said with a trace of satisfaction. "You performed with precise duty, aha-zu, which is rare in any sort of demon, let alone your ilk. You have confirmed your merit. Fetch the hag to me, then make certain none other disturbs us."
"Yes, my lord," said Talonclasp as he exited. In a second he and the emissary were back in the brazen pavilion that housed the Master of the Hordes in the field. Immediately upon announcing the arrival of the hag, the ahazu-demon was away again, and Sekculintig and Vuron stood confronting one another. The hag knew she was expected to speak first, and so she did.
"Greetings, you pale and sexless lump of shit," she said.
"And to you, ugly heap of putrescence which not even a disease-crazed goat would copulate with." Vuron countered.
That made Sekculintig cackle with mirth. "You are so good at clever comebacks, whitey!"
"You inspire that in all, I think," the albino demon lord said dryly. "But let us put pleasantries aside and get down to pressing matters — such as why you have placed your worthless being into my grasp!"
The hag cackled maniacally again, the sound reverberating horribly inside the vast metal space of the pavilion. "Are you so sure of your powers?" she said snidely. "Perhaps the Empress of Hags has something up her sleeve, eh?"
The great demon's hand reached for an ebon ziggurat on the stand next to him. "Say something meaningful, hag, or I shall terminate this interview."
"You are unlike others of the Abyss, Vuron," Sekculintig fairly purred in response. "You are greater... and could be more so!"
"Is that so?" the albino said without emotion.
"Oh, yes, Vuron. That you know. I would not dare to try to lie to you in the very nexus of your strength. I am here on behalf of Infestix and all those who support the Ultimate One of Nullity. The dukes of the hells vie, each seeking the honor of serving as Tharizdun's left hand. Infestix sends me to offer the honor to you!"
Tharizdun is still bound," spat Vuron. "And is Nerull so sure he is the right hand that he can offer the left?" The demon lord purposely would not use Infestix's true name, preferring to refer to the lord of Hades by the name he used for his avatar on the plane of Oerth. Some used the names interchangeably, but Vuron considered "Nerull" to be of lesser status than "Infestix" and so made the distinction.
The hag fought to control her rage, suppress her anxiety. If she could somehow convince the albino demon lord to turn his coat and support Hades, then she would certainly become the right hand of Infestix. But Sekculintig herself would be in jeopardy if she failed in persuading Vuron to take up the cause of Tharizdun. The slumber is broken, pale lord. The confines weaken and the shackles corrode, for the artifact is active."
She let that sink in for a moment, then Sekculintig crooned on. "None can deny that Infestix leads the array who will free the Darkest, so is there any question as to which of Evil's princes will be placed on the right?"
"Perhaps. What merit places me on the left?"
"Without you the demons will splinter and offer no resistance. You, and the Theorpart you wield, would bring the matter into swift resolution!"
"I am one weak lord amongst a myriad of great demons." Vuron offered, slyly watching the coven-mistress of hags.
"Don't try to beguile me, you colorless maggot! Has not Graz'zt granted you fully a tithe of his power? And the six and sixty greater and lesser who bow to that inky shoat have likewise allowed trickles of their puissance to flow to you. How can you portray yourself as weak? Turds fall from your silly mouth!"
The albino demon lord was taken aback — not by the words themselves, but by how much they revealed about what the netherhag knew. In truth. Vuron realized full well that at this moment he was possibly the most powerful of all demons. Powers had been bestowed upon him, others gained in conflict, others drained from the lesser demonlings who virtually worshiped him. Demogorgon in all his might would quail before him if Vuron chose to reveal his strength. How foolish he had been to assume he alone understood that. "Possibly, Sekculintig, I am almost as powerful as you seem to imagine." he conceded. "Still, you mentioned the six and sixty who bow to Graz'zt. I will reveal a secret and tell you that there are now more. My Lord Graz'zt commands fully one-half of the Abyss. Of what use is Vuron before that demonic assemblage?"
"Fagh! That collection is nothing more than violent bullies, moronic giants, and gibbering destroyers who will be at each other's throats in no time without you and the Theorpart to weld them into servitude. Graz'zt is no better than the other princes. Without you he would be another little kinglet in the howling maelstrom of contention."
"Have a care how you speak, hag!"
"Don't try that tone on me, Vuron. I see the gleam in your pink eyes. You are as lustful for power as any
— even more so, I would guess, for you have no other lusts, do you?" Sekculintig's screeching cackle of laughter at her own wit was such that she didn't notice the low sound from the albino demon's throat or see his face harden.
"If I attempted to desert Graz'zt's horde, even I would be overwhelmed by those lesser lords and greater demons who are loyal to him. To attempt that by using the ancient tool of Evil I have charge of would merely compound the numbers who would try to prevent it."
"I thought so," the netherhag gloated. "You are as corruptible as any devil, daemon, or hag! Well, albino, know that you will have help when you show the demon fartbag the price of making war on Hades. Does that satisfy you?"
"What, that empty assurance? You take me for one of the dolts of the Abyss? You will learn otherwise, hag. The blandishments you offer are meaningless. This audience is ended."
"Wait! I offer no empty promises, Lord Vuron. Pazuzeus will assist you in making transference to The Pit. Your own Talonclasp sides with us, and his cacodaemons will attack and spread disorder to mask your coming over to Tharizdun's cause!"
"Then all is certainly finished."
"What?" Sekculintig was uncertain of the demon lord's meaning.
"Thank you," Vuron replied as he opened his alabaster lips and allowed a withering blast of pure energy to shoot forth. The vomited force struck the netherhag with a soundless roar that devoured her being totally. In Hades, Infestix screamed in pain, for he had sent his essence with Sekculintig to spy out the demon lord's reaction, to measure Vuron. When his minions rushed to him, Infestix merely told them to send for Laudilewis immediately. That hag was the next in line for coven-mistress. Infestix would need the powers wielded by the hags more than ever now.
The ahazu was another matter. Vuron took his time, maiming and killing Talonclasp over a period of many days. As rampaging demons under Vuron's control decimated the ranks of the cacodaemons, devouring the leaders of the planned rebellion and destroying others for example and pleasure, the albino demon lord tortured and questioned his former officer. The ahazu-demon had been imbued with devil-shine and with the dweomers of Hades as well. That one had long been a traitor. Carefully peeling his consciousness as if the ahazu were an onion, Vuron found the truth beneath skins of deception and subterfuge. Then he caged what mewling little portion of Talonclasp remained and prepared to hasten back to the Abyss.
Vuron's departure for the Abyss came slightly after Iuz's thrusts southward in the Flanaess had virtually ceased. Much fighting, pitched battles, and sieges aplenty were still occurring. But the advancing companies of demoniac evil were no longer driven from within. The enemy of Good no longer rolled onward as if it were an invincible juggernaut. Now its commanders were mere men or monsters — vile sorcerers, ruthless killers, unfeeling creatures of undeath. Gone were Iuz, the cambion's demon ally Zuggtmoy, and the great witch Iggwilv.
The pale lord of the Abyss cursed himself when he cast forth his witch-sight from his pavilion on Tarterus and discovered what had occurred, fully a week after the withdrawals had taken place. Vuron knew at that moment that he had indeed pulled the truth from the ahazu-demon; what he saw happening on Oerth confirmed Talonclasp's reluctant admission that Iuz and his Theorpart were being brought into play against Graz'zt. Had he not been so filled with his own pride, his belief in his own accomplishments, Vuron thought, then he would have seen the matter coming to light sooner. Now it might be too late.
The crux of the problem was Iuz, of course. The half-demon, offspring of Iggwilv and Graz'zt, hated his father more than he hated most things. Iggwilv was probably behind the ploy, since she also despised Graz'zt and was perhaps even more devious than her cambion son. But what part did Zuggtmoy and her clan play? Cursing the prospect of a two-front war, forcing him to divide his forces between Tarterus and the Abyss, Vuron appointed one of his lieutenants to serve as liaison between his headquarters and those of the demon lords who commanded the various hordes in the field. Then he disappeared in a silent, purple-black shimmering, gating from the frontiers of Tarterus back to the home realm of demonkind. Perhaps he would be in time to save Graz'zt and prevent the defeat of the Abyss by its foes.
* * *
"Where have you been?" The question was an accusation, the voice a snarling scream.
"Serving you as I then thought best, my king," Vuron said evenly.