"We would be grateful for your counsel, sir," Gellor said in a way which indicated that master was not being asked to instruct pupil.
"As you wish," said the Master Cat with a knowing smile. "Gord simply botched the spell. He mispronounced the key sounds, as it were, reversing them. His inclusion of me, the incantation of my name, wrought the final stage of the dweomer. Instead of whisking Nerull and his bestial steed off to Hades, young Gord here managed to bring you ail with him here – to my secret domain! Most droll! You related that your comrade… Incosee?… had been made panicksome by the aura of these daemonkin. He was beyond the power of the spell. As to the other… Lizard, I believe you named him… well, the dead are not subject to such magic."
Gord flushed in embarrassment. "I meant to call certain powers to our aid. How could I manage to get it so wrong?"
"Better you here than me there!" their host said fervently. "I have no desire to stand face to face with The Reaper – at least not without great preparation and strong allies! How you managed to bring all here is a conundrum, for this place is hid betwixt and between the Ethereal, Astral, and Prime Material Planes. There is that of the cat in you for certain, Gord. Do not, I pray, become apprentice to a spell-binder, though – else who knows what havoc you will wreak with the recondite arts!"
As the group relaxed in chuckling and banter, the Master Cat looked at them with a not unfriendly gaze. Furred humanoids with feline features and tails appeared. They served the adventurers fermented mare's milk and an assortment of snacks – slivers of fowl, balls of ground raw meat, pickled fish, smoked shellfish. The adventurers ate the food and drank the kumiss with obvious pleasure.
The Catlord arose but insisted that they continue their meal. "There are matters I must attend to, but I request that you remain and enjoy yourselves as my guests. Such stuff as bread, vegetables, and fruits will come later – it is provender of the sort unusual to this place. When you have had your fill, simply sound this silver bell here. My servants will come and see to your needs. Rooms are prepared for each of you, and there will be those things you require to be clean and comfortable as well. Enjoy yourselves until I return," he said and simply vanished as he stepped through a nearby doorway.
Melf pulled a long face at the style of the departure. "That is no great trick."
"True, Master," said the halfling Biff, "for I have seen you do it thanks to that – "
"Enough!" commanded the elven adventurer crossly. "You will bore these good folk with your silly banter." Gord and Chert had embraced heartily, pounding each other on the back and giving vent to cries of joy and welcome, when they found themselves together in their initial place of entry – a park and garden surrounded by a circular building of stone and logs and other stuff that seemed to spring from the earth and blend into the greenery that in turn surrounded and sheltered it.
They had fallen from a gray limbo, a gut-wrenching nothingness that made their teeth ache and their nerves tingle, into an idyllic verdure before the feet of a huge statue of a sabre-toothed tiger hewn from ochre-toned feldspar. As if in answer to Cord's wild thoughts of reassuring surroundings, the homely face of a gangling barbarian popped into view. The tangle of curly brown hair and the winsome grin could belong to only one individual in all the multiverse. "Chert!" exclaimed Gord. "What on Oerth?!"
Then the salutations and introductions had begun – only to be rudely interrupted by the appearance of a half-score of snarly-visaged jaguars (as these felines were called, they later learned) that surrounded them and kept them on edge until the sudden appearance of their master, the Catlord. Gord, previously acquainted with this august personage, was immediately recognized by this worthy, and the master called off the huge cats.
Gord, with the help of the others, explained the circumstances surrounding their sudden intrusion into the sanctum sanctorum of their startled host. At this same time, Melf, a wizard and fighter of no small skill, and his lieutenant, Biff, a clever little halfling skilled in swordsmanship as well as thievery, made the acquaintance of Gellor, Curley Greenleaf, and the redoubtable Gord of Greyhawk, a person oft mentioned by Chert during his sojourn with Melf and Biff.
Chert, already an old acquaintance of both bard and druid, needed no introduction. In fact, both Gellor and the half-elven druid-ranger had been regaled with many accounts of the adventures of Gord and his hulking companion, so both were well aware of the comradery that existed between the two young adventurers.
"Lizard is not here," Melf said in consternation.
"I saw him fall, gashed terribly by the monster who served The Reaper," the halfling had volunteered in reply.
"What of Incosee?" Gord had said, looking inquiringly from the one-eyed bard to the rotund druid.
"Fled in spell-induced panic," recalled the bald half-elf, shaking his head sadly, "when last I saw him."
"Six of us then," said Chert slowly. "Three of us, and three of you, Gord," he explained, meaning that his friend's group equalled theirs. "This amounts to a most unwholesome number. Still, I think it bodes well, not ill, for us all!"
Then had the Master Cat brought them into his abode and seen to their needs. Now they were well fed, tired, and had naught but comfort and a good night's rest before them. Without further ado, the half-dozen newly met adventurers went to their own chambers to sleep the sleep of the justly fatigued.
Sometime later – hours? days? The time was uncertain here – Gord awakened, completely refreshed and feeling ready for anything. A feline person of indeterminate gender was standing beside the soft couch upon which he had slept for… how long? Who could tell in such a timeless place as this?
"Greetings, man called Gord," the cat-creature said, showing a mouthful of sharp fangs as it smiled. "There is a pool which hairless ones such as you and your friends will enjoy bathing in. Thereafter, a repast awaits you in the Court of Dappled Sunlight and Pleasant Stretching. Please follow me, and I will show you the way."
Gord complied happily, not even bothering to slip on the loose linen garment tossed across the foot of his downy bed. There was obviously no need, for the temperature was mild, and he was content to go as nature made him.
Arriving at the deep pool, he found everyone but Curley and the mage, Melf, there before him. Chert was frolicking at a game of tag with the tiny halfling, while Gellor and a striking woman with tawny hair lay basking, totally nude in the warm sunlight. Gord was suddenly self-conscious and leaped into the waters to hide his nakedness. Both the bard and the woman laughed at his discomfort, and eventually he came out of the pool.
"No need for such concern," the lovely female said to him in a wonderfully throaty voice. "Save for you and your friends here, we are all cats of one sort or another. None of us cares a whisker for the conventions you humans choose to affect."
"This is most amazing to me, my lady," the young thief replied, truly surprised. "Surely you are no feline at all, for unless my eyes deceive me, you are one of the most lovely women I have ever had the pleasure of seeing!"
The amber-haired woman laughed at this. "Thank you, man, for your sincere praise. Be aware, however, that I am called Tirrip, and I am what your sort call a tiger-were."
Rather than drawing back in fear and revulsion, Gord laughed in return. "This amply shows, fair… feline, how ignorant I am. I crave your pardon."