A/N: The wonderful world of Exile (Avernum) remains the property of Jeff Vogel and Spiderweb Software, not me. Some information has also been drawn from the Encyclopedia Emarian, particularly dates and timing of events.
The historical scroll had fallen open accidentally. Study of the First Expedition was, while not forbidden, certainly not a proper realm for the man who wished to own access to the ear of the Emperor, a position which he felt was even more powerful than that of the Emperor himself. The text had been written in neat, round letters, never recopied since first penned. 'For those soft crimes, it has often been said that death is too harsh a punishment, yet the dogs return to their vomit when released. Perhaps if they were placed somewhere from which there was no return, the security of Empire would be enhanced, while mercy might be shown to those who threaten our very way of life, even if they shrink from the capital offenses.'
He thought of his rival, she who did not need dabble in the forbidden arts to rise to the top, who Hawthorne courted as though he might actually consider placing her on a throne beside him. Imagining a life without that thorn in his side, he began to plan, to plant a seed of thought in the mind of his sovereign. So simple, really ... a spell here opening the mind, and the thought planted. Another spell, and his footprints in the emperor's mind were smoothed over, leaving only the thought behind.
"I have been thinking of the caves discovered during my father's reign," said Hawthorne, looking around the table to his council. "I should like to find a way to make use of them."
"But they are deadly!" blurted Hamilcar.
"It could be a place to send those whose energies have been too much devoted to ... creating trouble," he said. "They will expend their energies in more productive pursuits, and then when they have learned their lesson, they could be restored to society."
"Yes," said Hawthorne, "they have been saying I am too harsh. I shall show them mercy. I want the caves fully mapped. Can that be done?"
"Of course," he replied, "it shall be as you desire, your majesty."
"Begin at once," said Hawthorne.
He made a bow of obsequious nature, no matter how it grated, he must pretend that the man who wore the crown was his superior. Dismissed from the imperial presence to begin his work, he made his way to his chambers, and from there, teleported to the laboratory where his most secret work was done.
Lighting the five black candles, he carefully laid the circle, and then said, "Grah-Hoth, I command you! Come here."
The circle was filled by an immense figure of jet color, and if there had not already been a sulfuric odor in the room, there would be now.
"My master, what is your command?" said the demon, bowing, the floor scraped by his claws.
"The caves below," he said. "I want a map of them. If you provide me this, I can promise you an unending supply of souls upon which you and your legions may feast." He may be called merciful—they do not need to know that those sent will be condemned to die as surely as those who ascend the gallows.
The demon spoke in the harsh language of his kind, and a scroll appeared in his clawed hand.
He spoke two words in the same harsh language, and the scroll moved from demonic hand to his own. Unrolling the scroll, he looked at it, and smiled.
"That will be all for now," he said. "Thank you for your assistance."
"Yes, master," said the demon, and thus dismissed, he returned from whence he had come.
He followed up with some scries of his own, marking a place on the map.
It had been days, and at last he returned with the re-drawn map to Hawthorne's study.
"Sire," he said, "I have completed the map as requested."
Rolling the map open onto the table, he said, "I would recommend this spot as the lower anchor of the portal."
"Very good," said Hawthrone. "I shall have work commence immediately. You have done well, Garzahd."