by J. Langland
Tom entered his suite, noting that both Rupert’s and Talarius’s doors were closed. Well, in Talarius’s case, probably closed and blocked by a wardrobe, he thought to himself with a chuckle. He entered his own bedroom, closing the double doors behind him and fell face first on his bed, the Rod of Tommus still clutched in his hand.
He really needed to sleep and recharge. He had returned the DoomNet’s mana absorption levels to normal so that people could regenerate. He had also returned the portal to Fire to its normal active state, and temperatures were returning to normal across the DoomNet. The outer regions were still quite chilly for the Abyss, about forty degrees Fahrenheit; however, inside the temperature was back up to about 120. Rather comfortable for sleeping, Tom reflected.
Chapter 119
Courts of Chaos, Lilith’s Chambers: DOA + 2, Early Third Period
“So, I guess we know who you are having for lunch,” Asmodeus stated, taking a sip of his Baby’s Blood Tea as the door shut behind the first returning soldier from Mount Doom. Lilith said nothing; she simply sat staring at the door, seething in silence.
Asmodeus shrugged and said, “I imagine the Baron will not be pleased.” Again, Lilith said nothing. Asmodeus raised an eyebrow at her odd behavior. Restrained silence in the face of defeat was not an expected behavior for Lilith. In fact, he was not sure he could recall the last time she had behaved this way. Certainly, it would have to have been before Orcus’s passing.
Asmodeus took another sip of tea, and noticed a small twinge in his stomach. He was not sure what it was; perhaps pity for the returning demons? It would not be pleasant for them. Not in the least. He suspected they would all be eaten alive, leaving just enough vital organs so that they could be forcibly regenerated and consumed again and again. That is, if they were lucky.
“You are correct. The Baron will not be pleased,” Lilith finally said after several more minutes of raging silence.
It came as a bit of relief to Asmodeus, in particular the calm and objective tone. He had been worried that the silence had been but a buildup to an unspeakably violent outburst. Of course, he had no idea what her current calm demeanor indicated. It was so very out of character for her.
“So have you decided on punishment for those who failed you?” Asmodeus asked.
“The ones who have returned? The ones who have fled? Or the traitors?” Lilith asked, once more uncharacteristically calm.
“Exactly.”
Lilith pursed her lips. “Those who fled shall be hunted down, tortured for a few hundred years in the dungeon and then executed. Those who returned will face no punishment. Naturally, I will not tell them this—I will let them stew in fear of future punishment for failure, but I will not punish them. The traitors?” She gave a brief, sharp chuckle. “That will take some delicious planning on my part.” She went silent again.
Asmodeus frowned. This was starting to get disturbing. No punishment other than fear of punishment for those that returned? That was very unusual. Obviously, graduated punishment for different levels of infraction made sense, but the returning demons were getting off extremely easily.
Or perhaps not, he reflected. Lilith’s punishments were legendary. Living with the belief that such a punishment was definitely coming and was, in fact, deserved, could be an exquisite form of mental torture. Rather subtle for Lilith; more like something he would do. Asmodeus shrugged and took another sip of tea.
Mount Doom
Talarius lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. He was not sure what time it was, but he had slept for some time. Passing out drunk would do that. He did not do it often, but he had last night. He had been celebrating their victory over the Knights of Chaos, the sort of victory that he had only ever imagined in his wildest dreams. He had then drunk even more to try to wipe away the memories that Sekhmekt had shared. Those had been… he had no words, no idea how to process them. Such behavior went against everything he had been taught.
He had known that the Church and Rod had gone to bring the Light of the Five Siblings to Natoor and Najaar, yet history had been clear that the people there had been worshiping false gods, or gods long dead. Not true gods, not a recognized pantheon such as the Narveson in Norelon or the El'adasir of the alfar. Yet clearly they were real gods. Heathen yes, but not false gods.
He would like to believe it a trick, a deception by a dark goddess. It had to have been. However, the memories were so real, it was as if he had lived them himself. The depth, the details were too much. How would one fashion such a lie? Of course, given that she was a dark goddess, it had to be within her power to do such things.
When he finally escaped this place, this prison, he would need to investigate. There would be records in Justicia that could render these memories transparent as the falsehoods they so obviously had to be. He needed to clear the accursed things from his memory.
I am not so sure. A voice said in his head. Ruiden’s voice.
Why not? Talarius asked, surprised that the sword had been listening to his thoughts. Had it always been listening? While they had shared a true bond, they had never spoken. Talarius had not even known Ruiden could speak before he had shown up as a sword golem. This was going to take some getting used to.
Hephaestus corroborated the story with Sekhmekt and my father trusts Hephaestus; they are best friends, Ruiden said. Further, my father did not disagree with their statements. Surely, if he knew these visions and the statements to be false, he would have objected. Father is not averse to speaking his mind when he disagrees.
Talarius frowned. Is your father also a heathen deity?
No. Why would you think that?
Well, he is best friends with a heathen god and since he helped build Mount Doom, he is apparently immortal, Talarius replied to his sword.
Ruiden did not say anything for a moment. Well, he is remarkably long-lived, but I know he does not have a high opinion of gods, other than Hephaestus. I think he is jötunnkind, which would mean he is definitely not a god.
Talarius shook his head. The last day had been too much to process. He had been reunited with his sword, Ruiden, and discovered that his sword could shape-change into a sword golem. Then there was the fact that Ruiden was a demon-slaying sword forged in the Abyss, forged right here in Mount Doom by the resident smith. He had battled incredibly rare and powerful beings of myth, and then found out he was fighting alongside a pagan deity. It was too much to process. At the moment, all he wanted to do was curl up in a ball. However, Knights Rampant of Tiernon did not do that, so he got out of bed and began dressing himself. It was time to face the day and whatever new insanity it might hold.
The Outpost (Abyss)
“Usiris?” Bess said, looking up from her breakfast in the rooftop garden of the Outpost. “What a pleasant surprise!” Bess stood and gave him a kiss on the cheek, as did Astet, who had joined her for breakfast.
“What brings you down here? Were you racing with Charon on the Styx again?” Astet asked.
Usiris chuckled. “You know I only do that when trying to retrieve someone from the Beyond. He does not believe in return trips and so likes to give chase.”
Bess smiled. Charon and Usiris had a long history.
“I have come because I have gotten word from Merit-Ptah,” Usiris said.
Astet looked puzzled for a moment and then remembered why he would have heard from her. “She is working with you on the incubus project,” she said.
“Exactly, and she has located your Greater Demon,” Usiris said looking directly at Bess with an enigmatic smile.
Bess sat up very straight in the chair where she had just sat down. “Really? Amazing! Where, pray tell, is this mana-stealing demon that has thwarted our most hated enemy?”
Astet nodded in agreement.
Usiris chuckled. “As of last night? He was waging war alongside Sekhmekt and pêTah against Knights of Chaos here in the Abyss!”
Bess gasped.
“You can’t be serious?” Astet asked in shock.
The two goddesses simply stared at Usiris in shock. “How does Merit-Ptah know this?” Bess finally asked.
“Well, it turns out that her incubus is a close friend of the new Master of Doom, and is also on a privy name basis with pêTah. The incubus, Sekhmekt, pêTah, Völund the smith and various D’Orcs were having celebratory drinks when she summoned the incubus.”
Bess chuckled. “I suspect that information set her back a bit.”
Usiris smiled. “It did indeed. She let him return to the party and then made contact with me to relay this information.”
“So have you talked to Sekhmekt or pêTah?” Astet asked.
“They were not responding at their palace this morning; they may have spent the night,” Usiris replied.
“Or they were still passed out,” Bess said with a chuckle.
“So, back to this greater demon... he is the Master of Doom? What exactly is there to master with a dead volcano?” Astet asked.
Usiris chuckled. “Apparently it is no longer dead. Your greater demon has relit Mount Doom and all the D’Orcs have sworn allegiance to him.”
Bess nodded thoughtfully. “He would have had to in order to defeat a Chaos Maelstrom and an army of demons.”
“Although, if Sekhmekt was there?” Astet countered.
“She would have lived—probably won in fact, but all the rest would be dead. The fact that they were having a victory feast means the greater demon is, as we suspected, much greater than a greater demon,” Bess said.
“A demon prince then?” Usiris asked.
Bess shrugged. “Orcus was a demon prince; it would make sense.”
Astet tilted her head. “Wasn’t Orcus technically a god? At least to the orcs and various jötunnkind?”
Bess shook her head, but not completely convincingly. “He had tremendous power, but as far as I know, he had no god pool, nor home on the Outer Planes…”
“We no longer have a home on the Outer Planes,” Usiris noted.
“Yes, but we all have god pools and a pantheon pool.” Bess shrugged. “I suppose if we really need to clear it up, we could ask pêTah; he obviously knows this new Master of Doom, and I believe he knew Orcus as well.”
Usiris nodded. “I have to assume Lilith thinks he’s a demon prince. If she thought he was a god, she would not have attacked so hastily, and if she thought him an archdemon, she would not have sent an entire Chaos Maelstrom after him.”
Astet was staring off over the horizon. “If they defeated an entire Chaos Maelstrom, then the Lords of Chaos are going to take notice.”
Usiris groaned. “Ugh. You really did not need to bring that up. I had not thought of that; I had only focused on the fact that we may have found a good ally. If the Lords of Chaos get involved, things are going to get exponentially more complicated.”
Bess sighed. “I am really not sure how that is possible; however, I agree.”
Freehold
“Where have you been?” Randolf asked Crispin as the djinni walked into the breakfast atrium.
“Early morning visit to Djinnistan. Remember, with these wards up, I have to physically leave the city and pop to Djinnistan to get updates. I can’t commune with the wards up.”
“Could you not just step outside the wards and commune?” Randolf asked, buttering his toasted bread. He gestured for Crispin to sit down and have a late breakfast with him.
“If I am going to physically leave the city, I might as well zap to Djinnistan. Besides, standing in the middle of the road in a trance attracts too much unwanted attention,” Crispin said, sitting down and pouring himself some orange juice.
“And pickpockets, I’d imagine.”
“Not if they know what’s good for them.” Crispin grinned.
“So, any news from the Grand Calyphos?” Randolf asked before taking a bite of his toast.
“Well, if you consider locating Lenamare’s considerably-greater-than-greater demon news, then yes.”
Randolf set down his toast. “Ah, so he has appeared somewhere? As I recall, the djinn have no access to the Abyss, so he must have materialized somewhere.”
“That has changed,” Crispin said, grabbing a strawberry. “We have reopened diplomatic relations with Mount Doom.”
Randolf shook his head, puzzled. “Mount Doom? Sounds like a rather overly melodramatic place. I take it that this Mount Doom is located in the Abyss?”
“It is indeed.” Crispin nodded. “It is a giant volcano full of D’Orcs.”
“A volcano filled with dorks?” Randolf frowned.
“I have to suspect that sort of confusion must get very old for them,” Crispin observed.
“I am completely not following,” Randolf said.
“Duh Orcs, or D Orcs. As in Demon Orcs.”
“Demon Orcs? That sounds worrisome,” Randolf said.
“I suppose it does, but not for the djinn. Mount Doom and its previous lord were longtime allies of ours.”
“Really? Orc demons allied with djinn?” Randolf sounded extremely skeptical.
“Believe it or not, historically they were much more pleasant and infinitely more reliable than regular demons.”
Randolf sipped on his tea and nodded. “Well, I suppose when you put it like that, it makes sense.”
“So the djinn once more have access to goings-on within the Abyss. I assume this is tied to Lenamare’s demon?”
“It is; he is the new Master of Mount Doom. He relit the volcano,” Crispin said, reaching for an apple.
Randolf raised an eyebrow. “I see. So I assume this confirms that he is much more than a greater demon?”
Crispin nodded. “Indeed. Millennia ago, Mount Doom was the counterbalance to the Courts of Chaos, an alternative demon empire within the Abyss. Rival to Lilith and Sammael.”
Randolf set down his silverware and stared at Crispin. “Are you saying Lenamare summoned a demon prince?”
Crispin shrugged. “Summoned? Probably not. I suspect the better phrase would be ‘was the unwitting pawn of.’ ”
Randolf pursed his lips and exhaled in a soft whistle. “I don’t think I will be mentioning this to Lenamare or the Council.”
Crispin grinned, grabbed Randolf’s half-eaten piece of toast and popped it in his mouth.
Courts of Chaos, Lilith’s Chambers
“He what?” Sentir Fallon asked Lilith incredulously.
“He froze his little corner of the Abyss over and quietly obliterated twenty-three Knights of Chaos,” Lilith repeated.
“I don’t see how that is possible,” Aodh said.
“I have interviewed multiple eyewitnesses on the pain of far worse than death,” Lilith stated. “I am confident that he did this, and did it with no casualties on his side. Not a single D’Orc was killed.”
“Well, he has clearly mastered and fully marshaled the powers of Doom,” Sentir Fallon said sourly.
“We were too late to stop him,” Aodh agreed.
“What about your contact with the Knights of Chaos—a Baron of Chaos I believe you said?” Sentir asked.
“I did,” Lilith replied. “I have not heard anything back from them, but I am sure they are not going to be amused, and the fact that their vulnerability to extreme cold is now well known to both Mount Doom and the Courts, or at least to me, means that they are going to be even more displeased.”
“Yes. And so they will start investigating,” Aodh said.
“And discover that you used their knights to preserve the status quo rather than to upend it,” Sentir said, and grimaced. “This may not have been a good idea.”
“You think?” Lilith spat. “I did not want to do this. You”—she stared at Aodh—“insisted that we attack immediately, and agreed that this was the only option.”
“I did,” Aodh admitted
.
“Therefore, if this comes back to bite me in the ass, it will bite the two of you as well. Are we clear?” Lilith glared at her colleagues.
Murgatroy
Damien was watching Tal Gor remove the stick with his barely roasted breakfast rabbit when Ragala-nargoloth wandered back into their camp. Once the rabbit was out of the fire, Estrebrius stepped back into the fire to continue warming himself. Damien shook his head at the demon’s bizarre behavior.
Farsooth, gnawing on his own half-roasted rabbit, stopped eating long enough to ask, “Where did you head off to?”
“I saw some interesting markings in Murgatroy yesterday and went back to see if I could connect with my tribe’s people here in Astlan,” she replied.
That comment made Damien blink. “Your tribe extends across dimensions?”
“Indeed. Many tribes and clans have bands on other planes, particularly within the localverse. During the Days of Glory, we routinely moved between the dimensions as a matter of course. Today, much less so, but our family members are still here and there, and we do keep in touch, share information and occasionally trade.”
“I had no idea,” Damien said, impressed. To be honest, he, like most human wizards, rather assumed that being tribal and nomadic, orcs were quite primitive. Apparently not.
“Shamans communicate regularly across the dimensions; physical travel requires much more energy and coordination, but when necessary, we do it,” Beya confirmed.
“Did you make contact?” Farsooth asked.
“I did. They will be able to put me in touch with Rargh-Dargoloth, a shaman that I have had brief contact with in the past. He normally communicates with my cousin. He should have portal beads to open a gateway to here.”
“Lord Tommus will return once he wakes, and then you won’t need the beads,” Vaselle said.