marching hordes, then whispered a spell while twisting the fur in his hand. He nodded at a narrow fissure to their left.
"He's down this way," Gromph said. "Or at least he was a moment ago. I've lost him again."
"Where does he keep disappearing to?" Andzrel asked, irritated.
The stoop-shouldered posture of his tanarukk body was giving him a backache. He longed to get this mission over with and be back in drow form. And his tanarukk bodystank. Gromph had no such problems, however. He'd used a glamer to change his appearance. If he'd polymorphed himself, the material components he needed to work his spells - like that scrap of bloodhound fur, for example - would have been changed into items more suitable to a tanarukk.
Or at least, that's what the archmage had told Andzrel. The Baenre weapons master suspected, however, that Gromph just didn't want to endure the stink of tanarukk sweat on his own skin.
"I don't know what Nimor's up to," Gromph answered. "Report-ing to his masters, perhaps. But he keeps returning to this spot. It must be one he knows well."
Slipping away from the other tanarukks, the pair squeezed through the narrow tunnel. It extended horizontally for some distance, then sloped up to a small cavern, one whose entrance was guarded by a duergar. The gray dwarf lifted his axe as the pair approached.
"We've got an urgent message for the drow Nimor," Gromph said, adopting the low. grunting voice of a tanarukk.
"Oh yeah?" The duergar snorted. "So does every other bloody tanarukk in Vhok's useless excuse for an army. Well, Lord Nimor's not here."
Gromph ignored the taunt. He sniffed loudly as he scanned the apparently empty cavern.
"He's here," the disguised archmage said. "I can smell him."
"No he's not," the duergar replied with a frown. "Get back to your ranks."
Andzrel balled a fist with knuckles that were ridged with scales and raised it under the duergar's nose.
"We know he's in there," he growled. "Let us by."
The duergar suddenly grew larger and broader - until he was half again as tall as Andzrel's tanarukk form. He squeezed the handle of his axe, causing a shimmer of magical energy to pulse through it.
"Don't make me use this," the giant gray dwarf warned.
"Nimor will want to hear this message," Gromph insisted. "Tell him it's from the spy he sent into Menzoberranzan."
"What spy?"
"Sluuguth," the other tanarukk said.
The duergar's face paled to a lighter shade of gray, and he said, "Oh ... the illithid."
Gromph frowned.
"Sluuguth doesn't like it when his messengers get delayed," he growled. He pulled a length of silver chain from his pocket. From the end of it hung an oval of jade. "He told us to bring this to Nimor as quickly as we could," he said. "He said it's important."
At last, the duergar nodded. Shrinking back down to his usual size, he stepped aside.
"Go on in," he told Gromph, but he held up a hand as Andzrel tried to follow, and added, "But you have to leave your weapon outside."
Gromph and Andzrel exchanged a look. That was going to be a problem. As soon as Andzrel's "battle-axe" left his hands it would no longer be affected by the polymorph spell and would turn back into a drow sword.
"I can deliver the message on my own," Gromph told Andzrel. "You wait out here . . . until I'm done."
Andzrel nodded.
Gromph entered the cavern. Once inside, he could see that the space was more of a natural chimney, with a high ceiling. Up near the top was a ledge on which Nimor squatted, eyes closed, appar-ently in Reverie. He was in an unusual pose, with his arms drawn against his chest and his fists touching his shoulders, which were hunched. His posture reminded Gromph of a sleeping bat turned
Wondering if Nimor, too, was cloaked in an illusion, Gromph reached into a pocket for the small stone jar he carried there. He was just about to scoop out a little of the paste it held when Nimor's eyes opened. They immediately locked on the oval of jade that spun gently at the end of the chain in Gromph's hand. The magic in the amulet was still potent - though the jade spider it had once command-ed had been reduced to a heap of rubble, at Gromph's orders, before he and Andzrel set out into the Dark Dominion.
Nimor stepped off the ledge, levitating down to where Gromph stood.
Gromph withdrew his hand from his pocket, abandoning the spell he'd been about to cast. There was no