Even as he thought about all of this, Obmi reassured himself that he would discover the way to manage everything, but right now he needed information and time to plan further, time enough to prepare for leaving Ghastoor and traveling to Kar-noosh. Meanwhile he would have a little relaxation and diversion, enjoy the hospitality of the city of Ghastoor, and gather the facts and aid he needed for venturing onward. At the caravan town on the shore of Lake Karnoosh there would be need for final preparations, but by then he would have the wherewithal he needed. Now he was quickly regaining his confidence: He would not fail, and Zuggtmoy would appreciate his accomplishments. Along with his renewed faith in himself, the dwarf regained his cruel demeanor as he realized that the attendants of this tavern had left his cup empty for too long.
"You there! Bring me more wine!" bellowed the surly dwarf to a nearby serving maid.
She hastened to obey, spilling a bit of the stuff on the dwarfs sleeve in her nervous anxiety to please. That was all the excuse Obmi needed. He grabbed the girl's arm and twisted it. Pain was written on her face as she meekly begged his forgiveness. Obmi simply smiled and bent her arm farther. When it broke, she fainted, giving the dwarf only the satisfaction of a brief scream and a few whimpers before unconsciousness relieved her of the torture. The dwarf kicked her, but the servant girl remained unaware, so he got no pleasure from that. After calling for others to remove her, Obmi hurled a handful of silver pieces after them to avoid any recriminations from the local authorities. Then he sat back, savored his wine, and reflected on how masterfully his plan had worked so far…
It had been a simple matter to have the two "lieutenants" among his original group of guards agree to slay the rest of the escort that had accompanied Obmi to the outskirts of the city of Hlupallu. "One of their number is a spy," he had told the duo. That had been sufficient to persuade the dull-witted half-ore to use Obmi's poison on the others. But then it had taken a bit more effort to convince the priest of the pair that his half-orcish companion was an enemy also.
Eventually, by exceptionally imaginative lies and dint of persuasion, including the promise of gold, the dwarf had brought the cleric around to his viewpoint. With the aid of a paralysis spell, the priest managed to incapacitate the half-ore, and then had the fine idea to offer the helpless part-humanoid as a sacrifice to the demoness all three of them served. Obmi congratulated the cleric on this bit of thinking, and accompanied the man on a trip to a secluded canyon outside the city. The trusting cleric had done away with the paralyzed half-ore and was on his knees, engrossed in finishing the ritual of the sacrifice ceremony, when Obmi caught him from behind with his enchanted martel. The dwarf rammed the weapon's sharp pick into the man's body repeatedly, so as to baptize it in the life blood of the unsuspecting fool. "This too is in sacrifice to our queen!" Obmi chortled, but the cleric was already unconscious and on the brink of death. Then Obmi finished the doltish priest with a solid smash to the skull, thus properly tempering the hammer head of his new weapon as well. Now he had disposed of all the members of his first retinue, as ordered, and he entered the Dar Peshdwar in disguise to await word from his new group of servitors.
Hlupallu was a diversion in more ways than one. Obmi had tarried there longer than he should have, principally because he was enjoying himself too much. But, the dwarf thought pridefully in retrospect, it must have been his own innate sense that caused him to linger, for the delay had been most profitable. A few days after he met his new agents, they informed him that Eclavdra was traveling toward Hlupallu, slowly, days behind. "You should hasten on, lord," one of them urged. "You can be a hundred miles or more in the lead if you hurry."
Instead of following this advice, Obmi had bided his time and used his clever wit. With a word here and a bribe there, he acquired and developed some contacts with bandits, and his scheme began to function. Of course Obmi was too smart to violate the conditions of the contest. He would not harm any of Graz'zt's minions… personally. In fact, he had been most careful not to purchase any harmful services either, for the twisted mind of Iggwilv might somehow cause the demons to construe that as a direct assault upon Eclavdra. No, the device he had come up with was even better…
Four days later, Obmi received word that Eclavdra and her entourage had entered Hlupallu, and that she would be making the rounds of various places of entertainment that night. He went to the Dar Peshdwar, encountered one of the bandit leaders with whom he was acquainted, and invited the man to share his table. Less than an hour later a regal-looking elven woman arrived in the company of two burly bodyguards.
That one – the strange elven female. Do you see her?" Obmi asked casually. The nomad seated next to the disguised dwarf nodded. "She travels with a fortune in precious gems, valuable magical items, and stores of coin!" the dwarf whispered.
The raider shook his head. This city is too well policed to risk causing trouble here," he said. Taking her and her guards is a major operation."
"If I give you the route she will take south from the city, plus details on her guards, and the name of a sorcerer who would be helpful in assuring your victory, would your warriors be interested?"
"I would be interested – but what share do you get of the loot?" the ugly bandit chieftain asked.
"None at all," said the half-elf that was Obmi, with a sly tug at his magical cowl. That one is a sworn foe of my own clan." This the nomad could understand, and he nodded as Obmi spoke. "All I require for the aid I give is that the female elf be slain. Do you agree to that?"
"She is as good as dead even now, effendi," the bandit said with a crooked smile. "Now tell me all!"
Pondering the matter, Obmi too had to smile. How useful it was to have a spy acting on his behalf in Eclavdra's party! At first he had doubted the truth of the intelligence given to him, but those early assertions had proven true, and Obmi excitedly accepted the fact that traveling with the drow high priestess was one figure bent on her destruction. Using the information gained by the unknown spy and transmitted to him, he had been able to place the whole party in the hands of the bandits – and his subterfuge would not be traced back to him, for soon the spy would be dead too. "Very well," said the dwarf. "Now, listen closely…"
Two nights later, the still-disguised Obmi was again seated in the wine house when he was approached by one of the members of his new group of servitors, a sorcerer known as Bolt.
"I bring news of a tragedy," said Bolt with a wry smile on his face. These were not the words Obmi had expected to hear. The sorcerer's sarcasm was lost on him for a moment, and he reflexively raised a hand to strike the man. So, the spell-worker wasted no more time in getting to the point. "Word has it that a contingent of easterners, a party containing a beautiful female elf, was ambushed and slaughtered by bandits last night, just a few miles outside of this fair city. A rare occurrence indeed, and one we should hope will not be repeated," he finished. Bolt, of course, was the sorcerer Obmi had referred to in his conversation with the bandit leader, so the spell-worker was not in fact a bringer of secondhand news but actually had been a participant in the assault.
The dwarf merely grunted in acknowledgment of the information. Angry at Bolt for beginning with a misleading remark, and embarrassed that he had not understood it for what it was, Obmi Was not about to condone such flippant behavior by congratulating the sorcerer or even displaying any pleasure at the news. Bolt, sensing the tension in the air, took his leave a couple of moments later – and it was only then, in the privacy of his own thoughts, that Obmi allowed his face to display an evil grin.