03- The Apostles of Doom

by J. Langland

  “True, but I think it would be a good idea to make this connection and establish independent links. As we proceed with the Restoration of Glory, dimensional trade and travel will become far more important,” Ragala-nargoloth said.

  Vaselle nodded. “Yes, that makes sense. We are going to need to create more gateways so that we do not become a burden to Lord Tommus.”

  Damien looked at the warlock but said nothing. To date, Tom had seemed quite honest and unassuming, and seemed to be simply minding his own business, but this Restoration of Glory the orcs kept talking about made him a bit nervous. Not as nervous as the Grove, apparently, but still queasy. He was no longer quite so sure what he was signed up for. He had no interest in multi-dimensional conquest. Once he could get Tom, or preferably, Edwyrd, alone, they would need to talk. He would also speak with Antefalken and get his perspective.

  “Do you know when Lord Tommus will be back?” Beya asked Vaselle.

  Vaselle closed his eyes for a moment. “I think he’s asleep. He was up very late working to integrate the new recruits.”

  “New recruits?” Damien asked. “The normal demons that were sent to attack him?”

  Vaselle nodded. “Yeah. Being demons, none were permanently killed during the battle, just severely wounded and not allowed to regenerate at the end. He permitted those who wished to return to Lilith or run away completely to do so; those who wanted to swear allegiance to him could stay and move in.”

  Vaselle grinned rather wickedly. “He also gave them the option to stand and be killed permanently, but surprisingly, none chose that.”

  “So how many fled?” Farsooth asked.

  Vaselle shrugged. “Lord Tommus didn’t count, but roughly three or four hundred. There were 1,732 new recruits; we don’t have an exact count of how many there were to begin with.”

  “You know the exact number of new recruits?” Damien asked.

  Vaselle nodded. “He has a link to each and every one of them, just as he does to all the D’Orcs. Actually, it is more like a binding than a link. It is most similar to a conjuror and demon slave. The link I have and the ones the shamans have is more of a two-way. I suspect in the case of the shamans it’s most similar to a priest’s link to the Upstairs, whatever that is.”

  “And in your case?” Tal Gor asked.

  Vaselle shrugged. “To be completely honest, that is more like a familiar link.”

  Beya frowned. “That seems a bit invasive.”

  Vaselle grinned and shook his head. “Not at all! It’s fantastic!”

  Damien smiled tightly. It certainly did not sound fantastic to him. He would go one further and say it sounded downright creepy. There is no way he would want that sort of binding with anyone. He did not even like the use of animal familiars.

  He had always wondered what made a warlock a warlock, and now he guessed he knew. He supposed it made sense; there were conjurors who used imps as familiars. That was, in his opinion, insane. Sharing that much with a demon would have to eventually taint the wizard and corrupt him. He could only imagine how much more intense it would be with someone like Tom.

  That thought made Damien pause. If he paid attention to Vaselle to see signs of obvious corruption, evil or untrustworthy behavior, he could get a gauge on Tom’s true nature. Unless, of course, Vaselle was that way by default; however, that did not seem to be the case. Vaselle actually seemed like a rather naïve and overly trusting wizard.

  “So what’s the plan in the interim?” Estrebrius asked.

  Vaselle shrugged. “I suppose the shamans could work on their dream walking or whatever it is they do to contact their colleagues on other planes.”

  Beya nodded. “That would save time when Lord Tommus returns. However, I am not sure how receptive our counterparts might be at this time of day. It does not hurt to try though.”

  Ragala-nargoloth nodded in agreement.

  “I think I will go looking in the town for signs of any of my horde’s clans,” Farsooth said. “I do think we need to work on getting portals set up to coordinate our work.”

  Damien would not have minded exploring more of the town, particularly for anything useful in getting him back to Freehold, but he had realized after the first trip that he had taken too great a risk of running into Trevin and some others that he knew from Freehold. He and Gastropé already had their shared secrets; he did not want to have to explain to the others how he had gotten here.

  On the other hand, he had no idea how he was going to get back to Freehold in a reasonable timeframe. He could not teleport that far. Vaselle would have the same issues, but Damien suspected the warlock had fewer commitments than a Councilor of Wizardry. Damien needed to get back for Exador’s proof that he and his colleagues were not demons.

  He had had to miss the meeting to define the criteria, but as Chief Inquisitor of the Council, he could not miss a meeting on a major issue of inquisition. Further, if it turned out that Exador and his colleagues actually were archdemons, they would need all hands on deck. Actually, he knew Ramses was an archdemon, and was pretty sure Exador was; however, the problem was revealing it as a fact. Pulling back the curtain would force a confrontation. He shook his head, not even wanting to consider what might happen in that circumstance.

  Chapter 120

  Mount Doom: DOA + 2, Early Fourth Period, Early Fifth Period Murgatroy

  Edwyrd knocked on the door to the suite where Antefalken was living. “Come in!” came Antefalken’s voice. Edwyrd opened the door to find Antefalken perched on a chair in the living room, busily scribbling on paper. The bard looked up and smiled as Edwyrd and Tamarin entered.

  “What are you up to?” Edwyrd asked.

  “Trying to get my ballad of yesterday’s battle down,” Antefalken said, gesturing to the crystal ball on the table on which he had recorded the event.

  “I love ballads!” Tamarin clapped her hands.

  Edwyrd grinned. “Enshrining our glory for posterity?”

  “Exactly. It is very important to have firsthand accounts. I made a small fortune off my Battle of Vizenheim, which was a firsthand account. Think how different things would be if there had been a reliable account of the Balladae Orcusae.” Antefalken frowned. “Although I don’t think it would have gone over so well in the Courts.”

  “I suspect not.” Edwyrd grinned, shaking his head. “We are heading to Astlan to help get people back home. Do you want to join us?”

  Antefalken frowned. “I would, but I really think I need to work on this while it’s all still fresh.”

  Edwyrd shrugged. “Sounds good—wait.” Edwyrd glanced to the crystal ball. Would it be possible for me to borrow your ball for a few hours? I would like to show everyone who missed the battle what happened.”

  Antefalken shrugged. “Sure, go ahead. I do not need it for this part of the work.” He handed Edwyrd the ball. “Do you know how to use it? If not, Damien will know.”

  “Thanks!” Edwyrd said, putting the ball in his pocket. Vaselle? he asked through his link with the wizard.

  Yes, milord?

  Are you ready for a gate?

  Sure, just let me move the kettle out of the fire, Vaselle replied. A few seconds later, he said, Okay, all set!

  Edwyrd sensed Vaselle’s summoning and opened the gate. The gate opened into the campsite outside of Murgatroy. Edwyrd gestured for Tamarin to step through the hole in reality, and then he hopped through to avoid stepping into the fire. He began closing the portal, noting Damien looking through the hole behind him.

  “Antefalken wants to stay there and work on his newest ballad,” Edwyrd said, grinning.

  “His newest ballad?” Damien asked.

  “Yesterday’s battle. He wants to get it down while it’s fresh.”

  Damien smiled and nodded. “That sounds like him.”

  Tamarin had run over to a nearby tree and was staring in fascination at the leaves.

  Edwyrd shook his head as she spun around and laughed joyously while looking around everywhe
re. Had she never been to Midgard? He looked around at the others, noting that Farsooth was not around.

  Beya noticed his gaze and spoke up. “Farsooth is in town, looking for hordemates.”

  “Hordemates?” Edwyrd asked.

  Ragala-nargoloth nodded. “I’ve made contact with a shaman of my tribe here in Astlan. He is in regular communication with my cousin and has portal beads that I can use to get to her. We are thinking that establishing regular portal links between the realms will help us all coordinate.”

  “So then you are set to get home?” Edwyrd asked. The shaman nodded. “Excellent.”

  “I have been unable to contact my counterparts, but should be able to do so later in the day,” Beya said.

  “Okay, and then we need to see what Farsooth comes up with. That leaves you three.” Edwyrd pointed to Tal Gor, Vaselle and Damien.

  “I have a lock on Horrgus, so I know where my family is. Schwarzenfürze and I can head back any time,” Tal Gor reported.

  “I think Vaselle and I are the problem,” Damien said. “I can’t teleport over thousands of leagues, at least not without special preparations on both ends.” Vaselle nodded in agreement.

  Edwyrd nodded. “I don’t suppose that Gastropé and his friends have a good way to send you back?”

  Damien shook his head. “I rather exaggerated to Jenn and told her that we’d be able to use mirrors to send you and Rupert to her when we located you; however, I was planning on simply having Gastropé pretend to summon the two of you or something similar.”

  Edwyrd chuckled. “So we need someone in Freehold to summon me.”

  “I am not sure Lenamare’s going to feel like summoning you at your request,” Damien said. He glanced at Tamarin, and a look came over his face. “Tamarin, you mentioned having a contact in Freehold? Could that contact provide us a reference point for a portal?”

  The djinni stopped spinning and looked at the wizard thoughtfully. “Possibly, but not until he comes out from behind the wards. I can’t contact him through those.”

  Damien gave her a puzzled look. “We took the wards down a few days ago.”

  Tamarin grinned and shook her head. “They went back up after the big battle.”

  “What big battle?” Damien asked, suddenly concerned.

  “That sword of Talarius’s, it exposed Exador as an archdemon and things got ugly,” the djinni said.

  “Was anyone hurt?” Damien asked worriedly.

  “I don’t believe so. Lots of property damage though.”

  “So he was expelled?” Edwyrd asked.

  Tamarin nodded. “Yes. Lenamare and Randolf were able to contain him long enough for Alexandros Mien to use meteors to push him through a portal in the floor.”

  Damien blinked and shook his head. “Okay, I guess that would explain the property damage. So Randolf worked with Lenamare to defeat Exador? Randolf is not actually on Exador’s side, is he?”

  Tamarin shook her head. “Randolf? No he hates Exador more than Lenamare does.”

  Damien gave her a disbelieving look. “Exador worked for Randolf! Randolf bent himself into all sorts of contortions to do Exador’s bidding!”

  Tamarin shrugged. “What would you do to keep your kingdom from being destroyed by an archdemon? You have heard of Abancia, yes?”

  “Uhm... yes. Are you saying that was Exador? That he was responsible for Abancia?” Tamarin nodded. “So Randolf knew all along that Exador was an archdemon?”

  Tamarin grinned and nodded again. “As did his father and grandfather. Exador arranged Randolf’s father’s accident when the old archimage got too uppity for Exador.”

  “And your source of information inside Freehold?” Damien asked.

  “Randolf has a djinni—Crispin,” Tamarin replied.

  Damien stared at her. “When we first met, you said you couldn’t tell me this information, yet now you can?”

  Tamarin nodded. “At that time I was not aware that Exador had directly attacked Crispin without provocation. He did so during the battle.”

  “And that changes things how?” Vaselle asked.

  Tamarin grinned. “Djinn cannot directly attack someone, even at the order of their master. However, if a djinni is attacked unprovoked, not only can they retaliate, it also creates a debt of vengeance and all djinn will work to retaliate.”

  Edwyrd looked at his djinni. “Are you saying that Exador is being hunted by all of the djinn?”

  Tamarin made a rotating motion with her head. “I am not sure ‘hunt’ would be the word, but if they find him, they will report him and work towards ensuring he is punished. Crispin will be actively hunting him, as he had been actively observing him, and he can call on all of the rest of the djinn to assist.”

  “Hmm,” Beya said. “That is not at all pleasant for this Exador.”

  Tamarin gave her a side nod of agreement.

  “I would not seek the wrath of the djinn. They would be very hard to escape,” Ragala-nargoloth agreed.

  Tamarin nodded, but then added, “Unless he hides in the Abyss. Until my master here came along”—she gestured towards Tom—“we had had no access to the Abyss after the fall of Orcus.”

  “Well, I know where his friend Ramses lives, but I have no idea where Exador lives in the Abyss,” Edwyrd said. “Tizzy knows where Bess lives; maybe he also knows where Exador lives. He seems to know a lot of demons.”

  Tamarin shrugged. “Exador will be found. However, the bigger concern for the djinn is ensuring he is unable to do to Turelane what he did to Abancia. That has been our focus since Abancia was destroyed.”

  “So why are the djinn so interested in protecting Turelane?” Vaselle asked.

  Tamarin turned to the warlock and smiled. “Turelane has been our strongest ally in Astlan since its founding. Every archimage has been an anchor for a djinni.”

  “That is very interesting,” Damien said, surprised.

  “Yes, and very secret, but now that we can actively work to thwart Exador, the Grand Calyphos have determined that openness is a better defense than secrecy. Particularly since Exador now knows of our presence in Turelane.”

  “So can you work against Exador’s agents as well as Exador himself?” Damien asked.

  “Of course.” Tamarin flashed a vicious grin at the wizard.

  Nysegard Storm Lord Aerie: DOA + 2, Astlan Fourth Period, Sixth Period Local Time

  Exador glanced to his right to ensure Ramses was ready. His ally nodded and the two proceeded down the corridor to the large, arched double doors leading into the Aerie of the Storm Lords. He was not fully recovered from the meteor bashing, but given the manner in which the Storm Lords had mishandled the intelligence he had provided them, and his need for them to deal with Freehold, it was imperative he meet with them in their aerie. His current less-than-ideal health had motivated him to invite Ramses along as a second. He would have preferred not to introduce one set of allies to another, lest they seek to circumvent him, but in this case, he felt that it would be prudent—both to demonstrate the strength of his overall position with regard to upcoming issues, and to ensure his personal security.

  He, personally, did not care for the undead. It was not their appearance or their putrid, mephitic rotting stench; there were plenty of far more unpleasant demonic forms that he had been forced to deal with. No, there was something about Unlife that he found particularly repulsive, unsettling... dare he say, “evil.”

  Naturally, he did not believe in the existence of good or evil; these were simply imaginary constructs of the weak and powerless. However, when it came to the undead, something about them was definitely not right. So he supposed “evil” was as good a term as any.

  “Freezing cold” is another term that comes to mind as well, Exador reflected, seeing his exhaled breath before him as the double doors parted by unseen means at their approach. Liches seemed to like the cold; he supposed that it helped preserve their decaying flesh. Keeping the meat in the freezer, so to speak.

 
The aerie itself was a large domed rotunda, the roof formed by a series of large curved glass panes between each of the dome’s curving support columns. Beyond the glass was a truly magnificent view of the night sky. The aerie was located in a region of Nysegard where it was currently night, unlike Abancia, from which they’d come. Of course, being undead, the Storm Lords were nocturnal by nature. Fierdlight did not bother them; unlike vampires, it was simply that they preferred the coolness of the dark.

  Hmm, he thought, I should have brought Morthador. This place was so dark and dank, the greater shadow would have felt right at home and no one would have noticed him. If things went badly, he could have fought soul-draining darkness with soul-draining darkness. Damn. Exador silently cursed himself while not allowing his normal, naturally displeased facial expression to betray his inner thoughts.

  The thirteen Arch-Storm Lords, or whatever these council members called themselves, were arrayed on a raised dais around the back third of the rotunda. The dais was fronted on the outside by a seamless raised wall, behind which the thirteen Arch-Storm Lords sat on identical decaying thrones, in all resembling a court or tribunal, Exador supposed.

  Naturally the lighting was abysmal—meaning poor, not red like in the Abyss. This served to highlight the disturbing embers glowing in the eye sockets of the liches. Theater, Exador silently snorted. These poor fools were amateurs at courtly theater compared to the full pomp of the Court of Princes when it was in session.

  Exador and Ramses stopped at the obvious focal point of the chamber, a short circular podium in the center of the room with a lectern to speak from. Clearly a courtroom setting; that was now confirmed. Exador stepped up onto the podium, Ramses following. Exador moved to the lectern and bowed in acknowledgement to the Arch-Storm Lords.

  “Exador,” hissed Praelgeis, the self-titled “Lord of the Night” and head of this council. Exador had met with him on numerous occasions.

  “My Lord Praelgeis, may I present my colleague, Ramses the Damned,” Exador said, gesturing towards Ramses, who was in human form and wearing his Time Warrior regalia. There was a small hiss from the right side of the dais, but Exador ignored it.