by J. Langland
“A Black Ops site, black operations,” Tom explained. “An extra-legal location where people are made to ‘disappear’ ”—he made air quotes—“and imprisoned and tortured for information.”
“Tortured for information?” Tizzy asked, puzzled. Antefalken chuckled, and Boggy just shook his head. Talarius’s helm turned to look between the demons, clearly not knowing what they found so humorous.
“Who in their right mind would torture someone for information?” Tizzy asked.
“Yeah,” Boggy said. “There are like a jillion reasons you might torture someone: punishment, revenge, fun and games, stress relief for either party, lots of different sexual reasons—”
“But not information!” Tizzy interjected. “You can’t get any reliable information from torturing someone! As soon as the victim determines what you want to hear, they’ll tell you that to get the pain to stop. Trust me, I’ve been on both ends of the deal.” He paused to frown. “Although mostly on the receiving end.”
Antefalken nodded. “If there is one thing we know in the Abyss, it’s torture. It is a staple here; I am pretty sure that has been widely advertised as one our favorite pastimes. If anyone would know, it would be us.
“Okay, okay, I just said that because that’s what people with Black Sites often do!” Tom said, trying to drag the conversation back. “Besides, I don’t think we torture.” He looked to Tizzy. “Not in the basement, at least.” Tizzy nodded half-heartedly in agreement. “But we do make them disappear. And I’m not sure if they get a trial.”
“Gods have the power of high justice,” Tizzy stated. “So one way or the other, there was a trial.”
Talarius shook his head. “So what are you saying? You have prisoners in the basement?”
Tom shrugged. “There are prisoners there, sleeping. One of them is possibly waking up.”
Antefalken was looking puzzled. “What sort of prisoners did Orcus have?”
“Not Orcus,” Tizzy said. “Orcus was just the warden.”
“Orcus was the warden of a prison?” Talarius sounded quite skeptical.
“Tartarus,” Tizzy said.
The room went silent as several eyes widened, and Antefalken dropped his quill. There was a clinking noise as Talarius slumped in his seat.
“Are you telling me that we are sitting on a giant pile of sleeping Titans?” Antefalken asked looking, stunned.
“Ssshhh!” Tizzy made a whispering gesture with his left forefinger and lips. “You don’t want to wake them!” His eyebrows waggled with humor.
Mount Doom: DOA + 3, Early Third Period
Talarius once again stayed in his bed after waking. He’d had a very sleepless night of tossing and turning after learning that they were literally sitting on top of Tartarus. The mythical prison of the gods, where the worst abominations in the multiverse were imprisoned for eternity. Then, to top it off, he finds out that his captor, and his captor’s predecessor—Orcus, one of the most diabolically evil demons known to the Five Siblings—was the warden of Tartarus. That the D’Orcs were the jailers of the gods’ most notorious prison.
He could not believe this. It flew in the face of all established reason and orthodoxy. It must be a lie. How could he interpret such a thing? However, the thought that had woken him terrified in the middle of the night was the sudden realization that if this was true, then by killing Orcus, Sentir Fallon had left Tartarus with no warden for four thousand years! The most horrifyingly destructive individuals in the multiverse had been left unguarded for all that time? What if there had been an escape attempt?
Quite the screw-up on Sentir Fallon’s part! Ruiden intruded on Talarius thoughts.
The knight ignored his sword.
It was sheer unimaginable horror! Thus it could not be true. It must not be true!
But if it is? Ruiden thought at him. Talarius’s stomach curdled. He ignored the sword once more. He would force his captor to prove his claim. Clearly this was some sort of devious lie, a trick to unsettle him. To keep him off balance and unable to… to what? What was the demon trying to stop him from doing? It already had all the cards, and had promised, for whatever that was worth, to eventually return him to Astlan. It just didn’t add up.
Talarius sighed, squeezed his eyes tightly shut and rolled onto his side, bringing his knees up and pulling the covers over his shoulders, trying to bring on a bit more sleep to quiet his brain’s frantic chatter.
~
Tom was gathering together his local contingent in his sitting room to take them down to Tartarus as Talarius exited his room for the morning in his typical full regalia. Rupert, Fer-Rog, Reggie, Estrebrius, Antefalken, Boggy and Tizzy were all going down with Tom to see the Oubliette and Tartarus for themselves.
Tom was going because he and the two smiths had agreed they needed to train more operations people, particularly with the Kraken having become restless. Currently, only the first generation commanders and about half a dozen other first generation D’Orc soldiers knew anything about the TPCC (Tartarus Processing and Control Center). They had all agreed, as did Tom, that more D’Orcs needed to be trained, and so they were beginning training sessions immediately.
Phaestus had admitted that even he was rather rusty after more than a few millennia of neglect. They hadn’t actually processed anyone in about eight thousand years, and it had been almost seven thousand years since the last time the cloister bell had sounded. Obviously, he had periodically checked up on the monitoring D’Orcs and reviewed reports up until the incident.
After Orcus perished, things had gotten much more difficult, according to Völund and Phaestus. The Wand of Orcus was missing and the link to the TPCC broken. Also, of course, the Command Center was no longer powered. So they’d had to go the Oubliette on foot and go through the tedious ritual to open the doors without the Wand. They’d manned the center for the first thousand years, but by then attrition was setting in and nothing was happening, so they had gone to periodic monitoring, relying on the cloister bell for alerts.
It had been five hundred years since either of them had even been down there to ensure things were running smoothly. Tom had asked if this was safe, and they both rather uncomfortably admitted it was not ideal, but it had been so long since anything had happened. In essence, Tom decided, they had just decided to cross their fingers and hope. He was tempted to shake his head at such a strategy; unfortunately, he was in no position to do so, since that was also his entire strategy for everything. He was riding the tiger, or rather the Kraken, and trying to hang on by its tail. In any event, they had all agreed last night that they needed to step up the game. They would review all emergency procedures and make sure people were trained in them.
“Where are you all going?” Talarius asked.
“We are going to take a trip to see Tartarus!” Rupert enthused.
That gave the knight pause, and he stopped in his tracks as he was crossing the room. “Really?”
“Yep,” Reggie confirmed.
“I would like to go too,” Talarius blurted out.
Tizzy raised an eyebrow and pointed at him. “Aren’t you the enemy? Why should we let you into the most secret location in the multiverse?”
“Hmm, good point,” Boggy mused.
“I suspect this is a trick on your part, demon!” Talarius accused Tom. “I want to see for my own eyes that Tartarus exists and that this isn’t some sort of elaborate ruse on your part to trick me!”
Tom blinked and sighed. “Seriously? I did not even know this thing was in the basement until yesterday! How in the Abyss could this be a secret plot?”
“You demon princes—for surely that is what you are,” Talarius stated as a few others nodded in agreement, “are the most diabolically devious creatures in the multiverse. You have your reasons!”
Tom shook his head in disbelief. “Seriously? Talarius! How insanely big is your ego?”
Even in full armor, Talarius somehow managed to look visibly shaken by such an accusation. “How do
you even conceive that this has anything to do with my ego?”
Tom sighed. “You just told everyone that I am a demon prince, something I don’t particularly agree with, but assume so. What kind of ego does it take for a mortal, a human from Astlan, to think that a demon prince with an army of four thousand D’Orcs and demons at his command, along with some of the most powerful weapons known to gods and men, has absolutely nothing better to do with his time than stage some elaborate hoax on you, towards some mysterious unknown end?”
“Good point, I suppose,” Tizzy agreed sourly.
“You seriously think I have staged this entire Doom thing, the Knights of Chaos, Lilith’s army, Tartarus and a potentially escaping Kraken just to… what… subvert you?” Tom raised his arms in frustration. “You think I’ve got four thousand-plus individuals all staged in some sort of giant play for you?” He shook his head again. “Talk about paranoia! I’m sorry, dude, you just are not that high on my radar!”
Tom looked to the others. “Are we ready to go?”
They all nodded and/or agreed verbally.
Talarius cleared his throat, and Tom looked at him. “You do have a point, demon. I may be overly cautious. However, I must admit, I would like to see this prison for myself. May I join you?”
Tom looked to Tizzy, who shrugged.
“On your honor, will you swear to never reveal the location of Tartarus to anyone outside this room? To keep this secret and not share it with the Rod, your church, your god or his avatars? And further swear not to do anything to harm the prison or risk releasing the prisoners?” Tom asked.
“First Rule of Tartarus,” Tizzy chimed in, “is never speak of Tartarus!” He grinned a bit maniacally.
Talarius was silent for a moment. “You would take my word? After the Freehold battlefield?”
“If you swear to me that your word of honor is redeemed, and that it is once more good and applies to me and mine? Then yes, I would.” Tom said.
Talarius sighed and nodded in gratitude. “Then yes, you have my word to you that I will keep my word of honor and that I will not reveal the location of Tartarus to anyone outside this room; nor will I seek to harm it, you, yours and this entire complex.”
Tom nodded. “Very well then. Let’s head out!”
Murgatroy
Jenn and Gastropé were helping load the magical equipment used to scan the D’Orc’s staging site onto the transport carpet to take back to the Nimbus when Zed showed up, looking none too fresh from spending the night in the city. Gastropé chuckled at the sight of the rather greenish-looking satyr.
Jenn smiled and shook her head; apparently satyrs, in accordance with legend, had very little self-control when it came to alcohol and other pursuits of pleasure. She yelled, “Good morning Zed! How are you on this fine fierdy morning?” and was amused to see the satyr wince.
“You really don’t need to shout. My hearing is not impaired,” he replied sourly.
“Long night out playing cards?” Gastropé asked.
Zed nodded. “It got worse after I met your friend Vaselle, who was drinking with Teragdor.”
Jenn looked at Gastropé. “You have friends in Murgatroy?”
Gastropé frowned. He was also looking a bit paler, although it was hard to tell exactly what Gastropé’s various shades of pale meant. “Uhm, more of an acquaintance.”
Zed shrugged. “He also knows your demon, the four-armed and -legged one that you summoned to fight the Storm Lords.”
Jenn frowned and turned to face Gastropé. “How does an acquaintance of yours know Tizzy?” she asked suspiciously. She really did not like their demonic affiliations being made known.
“Uhm, well…” Gastropé hedged, as if trying to come up with an answer.
Jenn suddenly wondered if Gastropé might have also gotten drunk with this Vaselle character. But surely he wouldn’t have summoned Tizzy while drunk?
Zed answered for Gastropé, “Vaselle works for a good friend of Gastropé’s. An animage named Edwyrd.”
“Edwyrd!” Jenn blurted in shock and surprise. “Is he here in Murgatroy?” How would he have gotten to Murgatroy? That would mean Rupert was here too! She could finally get him back safely. But thinking on it some more, maybe not. This was not a particularly safe operation they were undertaking. However, it was far safer than chasing down expelled demons with his senseless cousin, Edwyrd. Further, if Rupert had stayed in Freehold, like he should have, he’d have had to come with them anyway. Then, she and Elrose could certainly have continued the boy’s studies.
“The way Vaselle talked, I don’t think so. We were all pretty drunk. I sort of think he was waiting for Edwyrd to show up to get him back to Freehold,” Zed replied, wincing as he tried to recall.
“How in Astlan is Edwyrd going to get him back to Freehold? For that matter, how did he get here?”
Zed shrugged.
“Uhm, maybe Edwyrd is a Voyager like Gamos?” Gastropé volunteered.
Jenn turned back to Gastropé. “Really?” she asked dismissively, shaking her head. “If he was a Voyager, why didn’t he use his Voyager skills to get us from Gizzor Del to Freehold? It’s a lot shorter distance!”
Gastropé was at a loss for words for a moment before weakly replying, “Maybe he just learned?”
Jenn sighed loudly and rolled her head in frustration. “He just learned? In what? The twelve days since we last saw him? Seriously?”
She shook her head and looked at the two men. “Where is this Vaselle staying? I want to talk to him!”
“Uhm,” Zed hemmed. “I didn’t ask. I sort of think it’s the inn next to the tavern? There are only three inns in Murgatroy, so it’s probably one of them.”
“Fine, then let’s start there. Follow me.” Jenn started marching towards Murgatroy, not waiting for the others to agree.
Oubliette
Talarius and the rest of Tom’s entourage stood in the center of the Oubliette, staring up silently as Phaestus recited the same information from yesterday. When he lit the door to Tartarus there were audible gasps.
Tom smiled as he watched Talarius twist and contort in his armor to peer through the visor and take everything in. “The atmosphere and temperature here is perfectly fine for humans,” he told the knight. “There are a lot of electronics in the other room, so, like the Tech Command Center, we have to keep it cool. You can take your helmet off to look around.”
The knight paused, considering, and then tentatively pulled his helmet off. Finally verifying that Tom was telling the truth, he put his helm under his left arm. Now he could rubberneck with the rest of the visitors.
“This is insane!” Reggie exclaimed. “I can’t even begin to imagine the resources it would take to build something like this!”
Phaestus chuckled. “But for the rest of Doom you can?”
Reggie frowned at him. “Well, that too, but since you guys said you built it, I didn’t want to imply doubt.”
Phaestus laughed. “Both took tremendous resources and thousands of years. However, it was Tartarus that provided the resources.”
“What do you mean?” Talarius asked the god.
Phaestus grinned. “It took a lot of mana, a lot of technology, lots of money and lots of labor. The building and then operation of Tartarus is how we got those resources. We did presentations before various deities and got them to back us in the construction of Tartarus. And, of course, we charge per prisoner. With all of this, we had the resources to eventually build everything here.”
“I was wondering about that. Given how resource constrained the Abyss is, and how much more sophisticated Doom appears compared to the Courts, I was curious as to how Orcus and you guys managed all of this.” Tom said.
“I wouldn’t take the sophistication or complexity of the Courts at face value. The underlying infrastructure is very impressive and sophisticated. It appears the way it does for a purpose and it’s all carefully crafted,” Antefalken said. “As are its defenses.”
“Indeed,
” Phaestus agreed.
Murgatroy
Vaselle groaned as a loud pounding came at the door. He was pretty sure some demon was trying to crawl out of his skull. That nasty ale left one horrible hangover!
“Are you expecting anyone?” Damien asked, looking up in surprise from his book.
Vaselle tried to shake his head no, but it hurt way too much. “No.”
“Wizard Vaselle, open the door. I am looking for Edwyrd!” A young woman’s voice came from the other side of the door.
Damien rolled his eyes and then stared at Vaselle. “What did you say to people in the bar?” the inquisitor asked.
Vaselle grimaced, trying to remember.
“That’s Jenn, Gastropé’s companion,” Damien said. “She can’t find me here. I am going to teleport back to yesterday’s campsite. Come get me when you get rid of her.”
Damien stood, closing his book and putting it in a large pocket. He quickly whispered the verbal components while gesturing the semantic components of the Teleport spell, and vanished in a brilliant flash of light.
“What was that light?” Jenn’s voice yelled through the door. “Did you just teleport out of there?”
Vaselle groaned and said, “Give me a bit, I’m coming! I don’t feel well.” He got out of bed and made his way to the door, an incredibly distant four feet, and opened it. Gastropé, Zed and a young woman dressed as a thaumaturge were standing outside the door. The woman was the one talking and knocking.
“Gastropé, Zed,” Vaselle said, nodding to them. He stared at Jenn. “I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure…” He squinted at them. There was way too much light in the dim hallway.
“Jenn Rean. I work for Councilors Lenamare and Trevin D’Vils of Freehold. I am looking for an animage named Edwyrd, whom Zed tells me you work for,” Jenn said, trying to peer into the room behind him.
Vaselle stepped back, gesturing for her to enter the seven-by-eight room. “As you can see, he’s not here. I haven’t seen him in several days.”