Night Arrant

By Gary Gygax

A collection of short stories featuring Gord, his friends, and his foes

Table of Contents

 The Heart of Darkness

The Weird Occurrence in Odd Alley

A Revel in Rel Mord

The Five Dragon Bowl

Twistbuck's Game

The House in the Tree

Cats Versus Rats

Love Laughs at Locks

Cat or Pigeon?

The Heart of Darkness

ENEEVER ZIG LOOKED THE PART of a wizard. His robe was rusty black and appliqued with signs and symbols. The girdle that bound it to his thin waist was likewise covered with glyphs and runes of odd sort. He wore a pointed hat that matched his robe down to showing crescent moons, stars, and similar depictions of celestial objects. The willowy-shaped wizard was adorned with strange jewelry befitting a great spell-worker. Brooches, amulets, pendants, bracelets, and rings were all of unusual design and unknown workmanship. These precious gems bore arcane engravings and were set with weird minerals. A pair of ritual daggers hung from the old sorcerer's dragonhide girdle, as did a metal case that looked to be about the right size to house a wand.

There was no way to determine how many years of magic the old sage had under that girdle, but if one were to venture a guess it would be wise to start with a very high number. His beard was pale gray and remarkably less bushy than his jutting brows. His eyes were a piercing pale blue, his mouth a narrow slit barely visible beneath his bristling moustache. His face was drawn and gaunt, an open confession of many years of suffering.

This picture-perfect wizard entered the tavern and slowly made his way through the crowd, his eyes darting from one face to another. He smiled inwardly as he spotted the two he sought and then quickly made his way across the room to the table they occupied. He sat down and stared at the two men seated across from him. His beard stirred and the thin lips began to open. But before he had a chance to utter a word, the barbarian staring back jumped to his feet, slammed his fist down hard on the table, and loudly exclaimed, "You must be a wizard!" The look on the massive barbarian's face resembled that of a young child seeing his first oli-phant at a menagerie.

"No, Chert, he just likes dressing up," the huge hillman's companion mumbled sarcastically. Then he stood and half-bowed in the wizard's direction. "Our pardon, good sir. My companion is somewhat awestruck by your appearance. We will leave now, begging your forgiveness for the intrusion and banal remarks." The small, leather-clad man grasped the barbarian by the arm as he spoke, trying to pull the giant to his feet. "Come on. Chert! We are annoying this gentleman!" Gord said, still trying to budge his uncooperative friend.

"Hey! Let go of my arm! This is the first wizard i’ve ever seen up close!" the big hillman bellowed without taking his wondering gaze from the figure seated across the worn table.

By this time the other patrons of the Bird in Hand were beginning to stare. The barbarian was so wrapped up in the unusual sight seated across from him that he was oblivious to the attention he was receiving. His companion, however, was not. The slender young thief continued trying to hoist the six-foot-six mountain of muscle from the seat to which he seemed to be glued at the moment.

Throughout this whole episode Eneever Zig remained silent, his eyes betraying no hint of emo-tion, as he stared at the bumbling barbarian and his embarrassed friend.

The hillman hunkered down farther into his seat, resisting the attempt at making him stand. Chin thrust into hands, elbows firmly planted on the worn table, he continued to stare at the gray-bearded man across from him as he shouted. "Get away, Gord!"

"Yes, sit down." Eneever said in a soft tone of voice that, despite its lack of volume, cut through the surrounding noise with a sharp-edged ring demanding obedience. Startled, Gord let loose his hold on the barbarian and slid back onto the bench.

"I am Eneever Zig," the pointy-capped man said to the two. "You are right, barbarian. I am a wizard. And you are Gord and Chert The descriptions I was given match well." The last sentence was uttered in the same, even tone as those spoken before it, but there was a somewhat bemused quality accompanying it.

"Hey! How does a wizard know my name?" Chert sat up straight and scratched his head in a confused, rapid motion.

Gord was puzzled too, but for entirely different reasons. The young thief eyed the spell-caster differently now. trying to discern the man's motives and designs. "Descriptions can err," Gord said, trying unsuccessfully to stare down the wizard. When the spell-caster continued to return his steady gaze without so much as batting a single eye, Gord sat back in an attempt to at least appear to be at ease. "Men can bear the same name. Who do you seek?" he asked casualty.

"A pair of able assistants to accompany me on a dangerous quest."

"That's us!" Chert said, his head bobbing up and down in ridiculous fashion. Gord shot his careless-tongued friend a quick, threatening look. "Shut up. Chert! This is no casual encounter," he warned through clenched teeth.

"Well put, young man," Eneever Zig said, his eyes twinkling with something akin to mirth. "I am not offended by your intrusion, barbarian, nor your unseemly words, thief, because I am in this tavern seeking you."

"What made you think we'd be here?" Chert inquired innocently.

"When I take the time to do research, I do it well," Eneever answered, his tone beginning to take on an impatient edge.

"Why seek us out?!" Gord asked with an equal lack of tolerance, for he didnt like this situation in the least.

The wizard ignored the question and addressed the tavern's proprietor instead. "Barkeepl Bring these two whatever they wish, and be quick!" There was a flurry of activity, and then the wizard tossed a silver noble to the sweating ostler, telling him to keep the change. A small goblet of wine appeared before the black-leathered Gord, and Chert was delighted to find himself the recipient of a huge horn filled with a mixture of stout and ale. Eneever Zig nodded, looked squarely at Gord, and then finally explained: "I am a stranger to Greyhawk, but the fame of its wealth and treasures extends eastward a great way. I come from there seeking a special item, and I am in need of skilled associates to share the rewards."

"And the dangers?"

"Oh, hell! Who cares about dangers?" Chert said, punctuating his question with a loud belch.

The wizard slid his gaze from the black-garbed thief to the brawny hillman. "I quite agree," he said.

"With what? My friend's question or his crude display?" Gord asked sarcastically.

Chert shot his friend a hurt look and the wizard continued, ignoring Gord's remark. "When I came to the city, I made careful inquiries as to able men of fearless disposition who might be a part of a bold undertaking. Your name was foremost amongst those mentioned to me. Chert."

"You know it! I’m the one to handle tough opposition," Chert said proudly, his great chest expanding and a grin appearing on his face as he spoke. Then he leaned over the table and said in a no-nonsense tone, "But unless we get our fair share of the spoils, neither of us are interested!"

"Money is not of interest to me," Eneever Zig said to Chert with a wave of dismissal. "I spent close to a thousand zees just locating you two. This mission is sure to bring a wealth of gold, gems, and other riches as well. You and your associate are welcome to all such stuff. I seek but one thing; gaining it, I am satisfied, and all else is yours."

Gord was not pleased. "Why us? There are scores of capable adventurers in Greyhawk. What made you select our names?"