“We came willingly, lord. It has been a good hunt, and we have killed many. If it comes time, all of us will become prey ourselves without mewling. We will fight and die as lions do, and we will thank you for the honor you gave us,” the huge old male said, ending with a coughing that soon became deeper and louder. Hotbreath and the lionesses quickly joined, and In a minute the cave reverberated with the roars of a half-score of mighty cats loudly voicing challenge to the vile inhabitants of this foul, subterranean place.

Gord entered the narrow passage and found, to his mild relief, that the noise made by the angry lions lessened considerably once he was a few feet inside the cylinder. Lamp in his left hand and short sword in his right, he pulled himself through the tunnel opening with his elbows. Once he was past the narrow entrance, the tubelike passage was large enough to allow first crawling on hands and knees, then hunched walking. The way was still difficult, for the tunnel twisted in a generally leftward direction and inclined steeply. Worse, the horrible reek of the ghulaz so filled the little space that Gord had to fight back nausea as he hurried ahead.

In addition to his physical difficulties, Gord had a mental obstacle to overcome. How would he, alone, with only a sword and a dagger, fight and defeat six of the grisly dog-faced undead? He had to do it somehow, and survive the encounter as well, if he was to attain his ultimate goal of killing the gloam-lich. Failure to find Imprimus soon, very soon, would certainly spell his death anyway; and at the hands of that one, it would be an even more foul end than that of being slain by the ghulaz. If his weapons and his wits failed to see him through, then Gord was resigned to die fighting the hideous undead he pursued.

The stench grew suddenly stronger. Then Gord turned a corner and came face to face with one of the grinning things.

The greater ghoul had certainly meant to be there, waiting to take the young adventurer by surprise. The full glow of the strange light Gord held, though, seemed to affect the dog-visaged creature most adversely. The almost palpable beam of grayish radiance struck the dull, lifeless eyes of the creature, and the ghulaz seemed blinded and confused.

The effect lasted but a brief time, but it was an ample enough interval for Gord. He was already moving to attack at the first sight of the hideous thing. His enchanted blade swept forward in a glittering, upward arc that struck the ghulaz low in its abdomen and continued upward to slice the thing open from groin to ribs. The ghulaz howled, its foul breath gagging Gord as it voiced a scream of pain. Gord struck again with his sword, crossing from left to right along the creature’s neck. The keen edge of the weapon nearly sliced all the way through the leathery hide of the ghulaz, and the undead monster toppled backward from the blow, thin neck severed, its head flopping as it fell, attached by only a bit of sinew and hide.

The passage beyond was filled with the comrades of the thing. Although the tunnel was now high enough for Gord to stand upright, the walls were still only some three or so feet apart-room enough for but a single opponent to engage him. The greater ghoul immediately before him was crouching, beastlike, as if readying itself to spring. Now that the first monster had fallen, the rays of the lamp were now fully in the second one’s face. The canine features of the thing contorted, and it turned its head aside to avoid the illumination, freezing into motionlessness. Likewise, the monster immediately behind was affected by the pale light. When the beams fell upon its eyes, the third ghulaz growled foully and tried to back away. In response, Gord thrust the light ahead somewhat and stepped toward the stooped one that had averted its gaze. Neither it nor the one behind could retreat, for the three others behind them were trying to crowd ahead to get at this human who dared to follow them.

Horrible whining sounds came bubbling from the throats of the two ghulaz bothered by the illumination. The first dropped to all fours, now ready to attack. With the strength of desperation, Gord swung his sword down at the near-prone ghulaz’s hairless head. The impact jarred him, but the thing’s cranium split, exploding in a mess of rotten bone and putrid brains. Without hesitation, the young adventurer stepped upon the foul remains, so as to bring himself closer to the remaining undead monsters.

Now those behind their fellow understood what they were up against and set up a fear-filled yapping and gabbling as they sought to find escape from the terrible foe. It was certainly too late for the foremost of the ghulaz. Gray rays illuminated and short sword flashed, cutting and stabbing to send it to whatever nether plane it belonged upon. The three remaining survivors were now making good their flight, however.

Gord raced ahead, striking hard at the bony back of the hindmost ghulaz. The blow was more than sufficient to sever its spine and send its shrieking spirit into the hellpits along with those of its comrades.

Now but a pair of foul things remained, but both ghulaz were well ahead of Gord. He followed them as quickly as he could, and it was immediately evident that they were not quick enough to make good their flight. The rearmost of the two fell to his ferocious attack as easily as the others had been slain, and the last of the monsters was cowering just ahead, face pressed against a boulder that sealed off the tunnel. It was in a dead end and knew that true death was finally coming for it. Gord gave it a swift, painless end, even though such a thing deserved it not.

As the last of the dog-faced monstrosities fell, Gord noticed glyphs inscribed upon the big boulder it had been standing next to. The shadowy letters and signs squirmed under the light, writhing as do blind slugs exposed to the sun when a rock is overturned. Then the sigils actually began to make a frizzling sound and send up little streamers of oily-looking smoke.

Despite all that activity, the sort that usually presaged the disappearance of such signs, the glyphs remained upon the stone, and Gord feared to touch them. Then he thought of something: The lamp had been found in the gloams’ stronghold, so that any wards magically placed here would certainly not be affected by its illumination. Wisely, the young thief suspected that when he saw the strange effects of the radiance upon the glyphs, what showed before his eyes was something to delude any who saw it, to lull an intruder into a false sense of security so that he would think the glyphs had been neutralized and then expose himself to the protective force they still held within.

Although he hated to touch the foul form, Gord lifted the carcass of the last ghulaz he had killed and leaned it against the boulder. Nothing happened, just as he had assumed; not enough force was being applied. Then Gord put his upper back against the slain thing’s stinking body and began to push, using the ghulaz as a cushion between himself and the glyphs upon the rock he had to displace.

Now the protective sigils were beginning to do their work. Gord felt bones in the ghulaz’s body snapping, muscles and flesh losing their rigidity-the body was actually decomposing, disintegrating, from contact with the magically protected boulder! The stench was so noisome that Gord was actually regurgitating as he continued his exertion.

After a few moments that seemed like an eternity under the conditions, the remains of the ghulaz were almost jellylike, but were still substantial enough for Gord to push against, sickening though it was to do this. He could not stop now, for he had felt the boulder move slightly. Then the big stone shifted abruptly, and the hole it guarded was unblocked.

Breathing through his mouth, Gord tried to clean himself as best he could by wiping hands and torso against the rock wall. Then he stooped and entered the space between wall and boulder, passing with a feeling of hope and dread into what he was sure was the lair of Imprimus.