"A stench like blooming flowers fills My nostrils!" he said to Yeenoghu and Kostchtchie. "Why does this human pit us against each other in a contest for what she claims she knows how to get? Why must we be opponents before we can be allies? The bitch seeks to gull us — to have us exterminate each other so that she can take the Theorpart for herself!"

"Well thought, Graz'zt the Clever," Iggwilv spat, "but you are still ignorant of certain facts. Who spoke of knowing? Of getting? Mark you, all. It is in my knowledge as to its location, and I am also aware under what conditions the portion of the key can be gained. But I cannot myself obtain it directly — nor can any of your ilk, demonlings!"

For a change, Graz'zt absorbed the substance of Iggwilv's response instead of reacting to her choice of words, or the tone in which they were delivered. "This concerns the contest," he said after a moment of deliberation.

"Yes, Graz'zt," said the witch. "The Theorpart lies under a great dweomer which requires that it can only be successfully sought by contesting mortals. It would be possible for one or more of us to venture forth to gain it. But this action would invoke the power of the dweomer, thereby bringing all of the mighty ones of the multiverse to the spot to contend with us for it. Then would many be destroyed, we and they alike, and Oerth would shatter asunder under the weight of the forces centered there.

"So, My plan is simple. Better to have family, as it were, contending for the final portion than those whom we must count as enemies. Am I right?"

Murmurs of agreement came from all parties in response to that. Then Graz'zt asked, "Zuggtmoy, have you a champion for this contest?"