Night Arrant (20 page)

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Authors: Gary Gygax

Tags: #sf_fantasy

BOOK: Night Arrant
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The four others at the table began an animated discussion of the matter then, getting immersed in their quarrel over elements and colors and the possibility of different sorts of dragons existing at all. In the process they apparently virtually forgot that the scholarly Yeo was present. Although not one of the four seemed to notice it, being ignored like this made the scholar frown and grow irritated. After tensely fidgeting for several minutes and alternately picking up and then putting down his cup of tea, the man could no longer restrain himself.

"My honorable progenitor often remarked that the ignorance of your sort is monumental. You four, however, give even greater meaning to his words, and for this I must thank you. In return for such a favor, may I demonstrate the truth?"

"How so, Master Yeo?" Chert asked with forced sweetness.

"Scholar Yeo! Yet, I am also a collector as well as a purveyor of rarities and antiques. My humble gallery is just around the corner on the Avenue of the Temples. I would be forever honored if you would accompany me there now. Perhaps a look at my Five Dragon Bowl will prove beneficial in resolving this unnecessary conflict."

After a brief conversation regarding, the man's-helpfulness and his undeserved kindness to them, the four disparate debaters enthusiastically allowed that the scholar's generous offer of enlightenment could not be refused. Following after the cadaverous Maegus Yeo like steps, with the halfling first Gord next, then the cleric, and finally Chert bringing up the rear, they departed the Silver Castle inn.

Poztif was pleased. So far everything had gone according to plan, from the rendezvous with the two added members of the party to the enticement of Yeo. Even so, the cleric was a little troubled about his part in gulling the strange man. No! He must not doubt the right ness of his mission, and he had not lied. He did not hold with the theory of five elements, and this business of dragons and their hues was most certainty balderdash. More important, he knew that Maegus Yeo was a vile minion of blackest evil, a servant of the Lower Planes, and the agent of a malevolent conspiracy here in Greyhawk. What Poztif was doing would serve Good and the nations who upheld weal, and would benefit his liege lord in many ways. It was just and proper.

"Here we are," said the strange scholar Yeo. "Now turn away while I dispel protections and turn the locks."

Gord, surreptitiously peeking to see the means by which Yeo manipulated the portal so as to make it safe to enter, noted as he did so that the halfling was likewise engaged. A clever little thief for sure, Gord said to himself. I shall watch him closely when there are valuables about!

However, despite the efforts of both thieves, the evil Yeo was watching the group too closely to allow any discoveries. "I believe I asked you to turn away!" he snapped at Gord at one point, pausing in his procedures until the young thief had turned his red face away from Yeo.

"Enter!" Yeo said finally.

The four comrades trooped through the portal, and Yeo shut and re-locked the bronze-barred door of oak and iron. The corridor was short, and a lamp burned in the room beyond, so they had no trouble making their way therein.

"My shop." Yeo said emotionlessly. "It is not of interest at this time, for what I have to show you is kept elsewhere. Follow me."

The room they passed through was sparsely furnished with small tables and stands. Each held a leering statue of primitive sort, various jars, or other miscellaneous materials. Gord got the impression of hanging racks and recessed shelves that were crowded with other objects. Then the four were in a hallway. Yeo walked past a flight of stairs leading up, commenting that his own domicile lay above. This was true as far as Poztif knew, for the strange man was known to dwell above his studio and frequent the inn of the Silver Castle, where, if not in his personal chambers, could the fabulous object they sought then be? The answer was forthcoming from Maegus Yeo himself.

"Now we must descend to the cellar beneath us. The steps are old and worn. Use caution. Also, I have guards of unusual sort to protect my property. I must descend first and see that they are properly restrained. When I call, you are to come down — not a moment before. Is that clear?"

"Of course. Scholar Yeo," Poztif replied respectfully. "We would not ignore your kind admonition."

Looking back over his shoulder, his sallow face ghastly in the dim light of the oil lamp he held, Yeo regarded Poztif unwinkingly for a moment. "That is well. Perhaps greater things could be in store for such a remarkably good person such as yourself." At that he swiveled his head and went on down the curved steps of stone polished smooth and slippery by the passage of countless feet over the years.

There came a clinking, as if a chain was being drawn, then the sounds of a heavy lock being turned and an even heavier door being opened. A sing-song chant came wafting up the stairs for a moment, muffled and almost inhuman in its tone, and then a violet-tinged light filled the stairway, sharply delineating the steps with its odd luminescence. "Please descend," called Yeo from below. After passing through the great door of iron that stood open at the base of the stairs, the four went directly into the area beyond. The place was incredible! Yeo had paneled and screened the whole expanse under his building, so that what lay below resembled a fabulous, exotic temple. Hundreds of weird tapers had evidently been caused to spring into flame through some device of Yeo's. They shed the violet light over the whole scene. Thick carpets of plum and black with counter-colored design and touches of other somber hues covered the floor. The walls were paneled in purplish wood, intricately carved, while screens of mauve and gilt decorated or concealed who knew what.

Fantastic objects were everywhere — low chairs and tables of strange design and workmanship, embroidered cushions, painted panels and pottery, silk tapestries and coverings, statuettes and sculptures of all sorts. An altarlike table stood before a translur cent block of lilac stone, a rectangular cube larger than the huge hillman who gaped at it. How such a piece of mineral got into the cellar, or just what the stuff was, none of the four viewing it could guess.

"So, my special abode affects you," Yeo noted with a dry chuckle. "Most of what is here you could not possibly understand or appreciate. Here," he said as he stepped to the long, carved and inlaid altar table and stooped to pick something up from its center, "is the object I spoke of. It is proof that the wisdom and knowledge of the West is far greater than you of Oerik and the Flanaess dream."

Without any flourish Yeo held out the item. Chert wondered how such a massive bowl could be held so steadily by so scrawny a pair of arms, but Yeo's grip was seemingly light and his arms thrust the object out for the others' inspection. "Observe the work. It depicts the five Elemental Dragons, each surrounded by symbols of its element. See how each bites at the tail of the next? That demonstrates their intermixture and hostility, all in one."

"The work is indeed marvelous!" Biff exclaimed.

"Aren't those precious gems each dragon holds in his claws?"

Maegus Yeo withdrew the three-foot-diameter dish with a sneer. "I should have expected one of your sort to notice the crass detail of an otherwise superb work. Ah, but notice the material from which it was made, the painstaking labor of painting and gilding, the inlays, the firing to bring it all into a harmonious whole. . . ." His voice trailed off as Yeo became lost in admiration of his possession.

Poztif broke the uneasy silence. "The bowl is indeed a masterpiece. Scholar Yeo, but I am not convinced that it serves to prove the assertion of five elements."

Maegus Yeo looked up, and in the strange illumination it almost seemed his thin face was no more than a skull glaring at them. Addressing the cleric, he said. "For some there is no proof short of the final reckoning. Few can understand the true nature of all and its inevitable conclusion. You, however, a learned cleric of Pholtus, I observe, are perfect for teaching." With what seemed an evil leer on his face, Yeo bowed to each of the other three, saying, "Allow me but a moment, and I will see that you are amused and entertained while your clerical companion and I proceed to discover whether or not there is truth in the supposition of five elements."

"What are you going to ..." Gord began, but the sallow-faced man was already moving off into a shadowy alcove partitioned from the main room by a row of the screens that were everywhere within this chamber. Poztif followed for a few steps but then stood and waited when it became obvious that Yeo did not intend for the cleric to follow him.

"Look out for this guy." Chert hissed to Gord. "I'm beginning to think he's a dangerous lunatic of some kind."

Biff and Gord exchanged looks that spoke volumes. "Yeah. Chert, old chap. I think we both agree with your assessment," Gord supplied.

Just then Maegus Yeo reappeared, draped in a violet-and-black shawl, a twisted staff in one hand and a smaller instrument in the other. He pointed the convoluted piece of dark wood at Poztif, and a lilac-hued ray bathed the unsuspecting cleric.

"Hey, what's happening?" Gord cried, his hand going to his sword hilt. The stuff of the ray seemed to have substance of its own. and it congealed and formed to sheathe Poztif in a mummylike wrapping of color. For a second or two the cleric struggled, but then the ray twisted and enwrapped him as a cocoon, and he was motionless in its grip.

"Grab the sodder, Gord!" Chert bellowed, but Yeo was already in motion, babbling a weird series of one-syllable sounds in incredibly varied pitch, from high soprano to bass and everywhere in between. The skeletal form danced about as he sang thus. He took a second to thrust the staff into the belt of his robe and then raised the object he held in his right hand. The thing was of puce color, opalescent, and left a trail of faint amethystine coruscations in its wake as Yeo waved it above and around his head. None present knew exactly what it was. but it was obviously a magic item of some sort.

The cadaverous figure leaped and shouted, robe and shawl flapping as if affected by a wind that blew on him alone. Chert, Gord. and Biff moved forward to engage Yeo but, his sallow visage contorted hideously, he danced back into the shadows screeching in triumph.

Gord had both his sword and dagger drawn and ready. The enchantment on the former weapon enabled him to see through the gloom of the chamber, and he cried a warning to his companions. "Beware all, there are undead here!"

The halfling. armed with his own, shorter sword, moved up beside Gord and shouted to the cleric, "Poztif! Aid us now!" But the cleric was of no use in his present state.

"Blistering brazen balls!" Chert fairly groaned the expostulation, grabbing for a weapon that was not there. "Were my good axe Brool here now, I'd mow those zombies down like wheat!" He pulled forth the small sword he carried at his hip and readied to face the shuffling corpse-things.

"Biff, see to your friend Poztifl" the young thief said without looking at the halfling. "Yeo's fell staff worked some foul bonding upon him!" Then Gord turned to concentrate on the undead monsters that approached in slow, creaking steps, shedding moldering bits of flesh and exuding a putrid stench as they came.

Maegus Yeo was somewhere among these things now, exhorting them on. "On, dear ancestors, faithful guardians of imperial Suhfang in the decadent East. These foul men would desecrate our temple and steal the holy relics you placed in my trust. Send them to gibber and beg in the nethermost regions of Hades for the glory of dark Nerull!"

"Throw something heavy at them. Chert!" Gord said loudly. "I fear we're in for something we won't like. "

The big barbarian made a razzing sound but nevertheless picked up a low-backed chair with one hand and flung it toward the bony legs of the horrid corpses that slowly approached. The missile impacted with a sound of snapping twigs as brittle bones cracked and splintered. Two of the undead things were scrabbling around on the floor, but were quickly upright and advancing again. "Their rotten bones fly together and mend themselves!" Chert muttered in astonishment.

Gord, who had seen the whole process, set his teeth and leaped to attack one end of the line of corpses. "Keep knocking them down anyway! it's all you can do!" Then he hacked and slashed at the stinking creature that was turning and reaching for him.

Meanwhile, the halfling was in a real quandary. Biff ran around and around the frozen form of Poztif, afraid to touch the lilac light that seemed to crawl rather than flow around the body it encompassed. Even as Biff paused and pondered on a course of action, there was a pulse of deeper color. A beam of lilac reached out from the cleric and fastened itself to the block of translucent mineral. The mineral began to grow brighter, and its surface showed a layer of transparent material of the same hue and as bright as the light that enveloped the unmovtng cleric. The stone seemed to attain a tremendous depth as Biff stared at its surface. It was like peering off a mountaintop into the vast regions beyond, while the mists obscured the scene. And now Biff could see that something was moving within those depths!

"Help me!" he shouted. "A dragon comes from within the stone!"

Coughing and retching from the vileness of the stench that arose when he'd sundered the undead corpse that he had attacked. Gord allowed the rotting parts to fall as they may. Chert had dropped his useless little sword in favor of furniture. A heavy screen flew edgewise into a group of the advancing corpses, tossing them back, snapping limbs as if they were matchsticks. These same monsters would arise unharmed moments from now, but every attack bought time.

"Use everything available to slow those things, Chert!" said Gord. "I'll go aid the halfiing."

Just then a beam of violet-tinged light sprang past him. Gord felt the hair on the back of his neck rise in horripilation at the nearness of the ray. If he exposed himself going to the aid of Biff, the terrible Yeo would engulf him in the same stuff he'd used to blind the cleric. He shouted to the halfling, "Catch — and ‘ware the point! it slices stone as cheese."

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