They are free to leave or stay, and while they stay they can see us and our actions but cannot decipher our words. This place was meant for us alone, and only we can fully communicate with one another. The others could move to attack, if anyone foolishly directs them to do so, but if a conflict breaks out and they become involved, we cannot be sure that any of us will persevere if this place is torn asunder!" The witch was clearly overwrought by the time she finished this lecture. For a moment or two, a strained silence enveloped the weird pocket of null-space as all those present weighed the importance of Iggwilv's words.

"Now… We must talk, not quarrel," Iggwilv said sweetly, regaining her composure.

"Yes, yes!" said Graz'zt with a tinge of sarcasm. "By all means let us return to our amiable parlay!" he guffawed. Then his tone turned serious again as he continued, addressing Iggwilv. "Your treacherous behavior is, as always, dear human, so monumental, your expectations so incredible, that I am most amused. Even as it was, the repulsive toad hopping about on that pile of fungus tipped the balance in your favor, four to three. Fortunately for all of you, that worthless creature is of no consequence, and I could dispatch it with a single gesture if I so chose. But now Szhublox comes — another matter altogether! Do you really think We will consent to that puddle of slime joining this conclave?"

"Your madness and lust are what bring conflict between us always," Iggwilv replied condescendingly. "The toad is obviously a niggling, just as are the harlots you enjoy surrounding yourself with. As for the Demon of Slime, I should hardly have to point out that Zuggtmoy's dear kinsman was not some agent brought to attack. Szhublox was nothing more than a late arrival."

"Your words are dung, crone of crones," Graz'zt retaliated. "We agreed to an equality of force to assure no tricks. It was to be three and three."

"Szhublox is the third," interjected Zuggtmoy, shooting forth a cloud of spores as she spoke.