The caravan had stopped for the night. One of the travelers the sorcerer Abdul Alhazrad lounged on a fine rug, by the light of the full moon he studied the glyphs on some ancient scrolls obtained from a tomb in the crypts of Kirem. His brawny servant Achmed and the other travelers had already drifted into strange dreams induced by the Black Lotus petals that Alhazrad burnt during his evening meditations.
Alhazrad could read the ancient hyperborean language however he was not certain of the meaning of the words he chanted from the scroll. He suspected they were words of power for they seemed to linger in the air after being spoken. Perhaps the scroll could summon up spirits of vast knowledge or some amusing imp from the netherworld. Alhazrad had no fear of what the words might call up, his knowledge of the seal of Koth protected him from spiritual harm and Achmed was well equipped to handle any physical dangers.
The chant ended, apparently with no effect. Suddenly Achmed lurched from spot where he lay dozing; clutching his stomach, he began screaming, bloody froth poured from his mouth. The man stood upright and Alhazrad stared with horror at the source of his agony; monstrous taloned hands ripped open his belly from the inside and yellow eyes gazed out of the wound. With a final heave that tore Achmed apart, the demon stepped into the world of men through the gate the sorcerer had unknowingly created. Alhazrad sank to his knees before the gore covered demon and pleaded for his life. The demon towered above Alhazrad, staring down at his groveling new master with blazing contempt, for he was bound into service to this human by words that neither he nor the sorcerer understood.
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