by J. Langland
Baysir gave a tight-lipped grin. “Well, in terms of one I think we can keep quiet, the High Priest of Gizzor Del is there.”
“Verigas?” Moradel asked.
“The priest that started this mess for us?” Stevos asked in shock.
“Yes.” Baysir nodded.
“I am rather surprised he hasn’t been disciplined,” Stevos said.
Baysir chuckled. “An extended stay in Keeper’s City? I suspect he is being punished.”
“Very well, who should do the sending?” Beragamos asked.
The Inferno
Barabus sighed pleasantly as he put down his fork. The meals onboard the Inferno were surprisingly tasty. He, Wing Arms Master Heron, Chancellor Alighieri, Diocate Temerlain, XO Stevensword, Sirs Gadius and Gaius and Sir Lady Serah had all been invited to dine with Captain Cranshall this evening. It was a tight fit for nine people, but then most things onboard this ship were a tight fit.
“This meal has been a nice respite after all the turmoil today. Thank you, Captain,” Diocate Temerlain said to the Captain.
“You are most certainly welcome. I find that a good repast with enjoyable company often soothes tired nerves, at least for myself,” Captain Cranshall said, briefly raising his wine glass before taking a sip.
The day had certainly been wearing on the nerves, Barabus reflected. The whole death in the Abyss question had rattled everyone, including the Oorstemothians. He had not given much thought to Oorstemoth and faith; he’d assumed they were mostly atheists. Apparently not. He and the others had all had their hands full trying to calm the nerves of the crew and the Rod members.
Captain Cranshall had decided to land the ship on a very large and insanely high mesa not that far from their entry point. They were going to need to regroup and strategize to meet their new concerns. While doing that, there was no reason to expend energy flying around aimlessly or even hovering in one spot. Further, landing on the tall mesa would most likely be less conspicuous than sitting in the middle of the air.
“As I explained, by not hovering in the air, we should be less prone to discovery, and on top of this very tall mesa, no one at lower altitudes will even know we are here,” Captain Cranshall reminded them. “This will give us some uninterrupted time to plan our next step.”
“Indeed,” Wing Arms Master Heron agreed. “This mesa is unbelievably high. I’ve never seen anything this high outside of the Grove’s mountains.”
Diocate Temerlain nodded. “A demon would have to be flying at a spectacularly high altitude to see us.”
BANG!
BANG!
Two loud bangs came from near the center of the ship. Further, it sounded like it was coming from above them. Diocate Temerlain blinked in shocked surprise.
“What the—” XO Stevensword exclaimed before being interrupted.
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
XO Stevensword was closest to the door. He stood quickly, looking very concerned, and moved to exit. “It sounds like someone is banging on the main hatch!”
“Indeed!” Captain Cranshall agreed and stood as well. He waved at a small mirror mounted on the wall of the captain’s mess. “Bridge, what is going on?”
“We are unsure, sir,” Chief Sorcery Officer Halferth replied. “None of our sensing equipment detected an enemy presence, and we are not seeing anything on the main scanners. We need to check the porthole hear the main hatch.”
“On my way,” XO Stevensword snapped. Cranshall nodded and followed.
Barabus looked to Heron, who shrugged.
“Let us go see,” Heron said.
BANG!
BANG!
The dinner companions all began squeezing out from around the tight booth table in the mess to go see who their visitor was.
Barabus noted the knights going the opposite way, most likely to more fully arm themselves. He arrived in the onboarding room to see Stevensword on the metal ladder leading up to the hatch in the ceiling, peering through a porthole.
“Open up in there!” a loud voice yelled from outside.
“Who are you and what do you want, demon?” Stevensword yelled.
“You are an Oorstemothian vessel from Astlan, are you not?” the voice yelled. That caused a large commotion among those in the boarding room.
“How in the Abyss did he recognize our flag?” Wing Arms Master Heron muttered.
“We are. This is the Oorstemothian Extra-Dimensional Enforcement Vessel Inferno,” XO Stevensword replied.
“As I suspected! In that case, I claim sanctuary under Title 12, Rule 54, Clause 139 of the Oorstemothian Code of Chivalry!” the voice yelled back.
Barabus noticed that several people, most notably Captain Cranshall, Wing Arms Master Heron and the chancellor, all reacted in shock at this reply. The chancellor in particular was blinking rapidly.
“What law is that?” Heron hissed to the chancellor, apparently not wanting to be heard by the being banging on the hatch.
“I, uhm... ” Dante fumbled, clearly uncertain and trying to think. “I am not familiar with that one; it would have to be incredibly old.” The chancellor’s brow wrinkled. “The Oorstemothian Code of Chivalry dates back to the earliest days of Oorstemoth.” The Chancellor paused for a moment. “Back during the period of the Knights of High Justice.”
“Knights of High Justice?” Captain Cranshall whispered incredulously. “That would be something like fifteen hundred years ago, the reign of Ponchas the Second, perhaps the Third.”
BANG!
“Are you still in there? Open up! It has taken you miscreants long enough to come and rescue me! I want to get out of this damn set of armor!” the voice yelled.
Captain Cranshall called up to XO Stevensword, “What do you see out there? Do you say it is a demon?”
The executive officer made a shrugging motion. “He’s not at a good angle for the porthole. I simply assumed that, being in the Abyss, this person was a demon.”
“What can you see?” Heron demanded.
“Well, a person encased in a lot of metal. Golden or perhaps bronze metal. It appears quite formal, and of a very old style. Not seeing any wings or tail. He is moving around and I just get glimpses,” Stevensword said.
“Who are you?” Captain Cranshall called up.
Barabus noted that both the captain and the wing arms master seemed to be sweating profusely. As was he himself.
“What do you mean, who am I?” the voice sounded quite perturbed. “I am the person you came to rescue! Hello! Are you daft?”
Heron looked to Barabus, who shook his head. “That is not Talarius. The voice is wrong, as is the armor.”
Barabus noted that his three knights had returned with weapons drawn.
“Could you be more specific? We have come to treat with several issues of justice,” XO Stevens called back.
Barabus swore he heard a harrumphing noise, which would be quite remarkable given the thickness of the hull.
“I am Sir Samwell, First Knight of High Justice and Sworn Champion of the Keeper of Law, Ponchas the Third!” the voice yelled back with outraged dignity.
Stevensword looked to the captain. Chancellor Alighieri drew in a sharp breath, causing the others to glance at him.
“Now open this damn hatch before I have you all tried for high treason!” the voice thundered.
“Well, he does sound Oorstemothian,” Sir Lady Serah observed.
Barabus glanced back warningly at the knight; even though he agreed with her, this was probably not the best time for snide remarks.
Heron looked to the chancellor, who was leaning against the bulkhead and looking quite pale. “I take it you recognize the name?”
Chancellor Alighieri nodded weakly. “Yes, Sir Samwell was indeed a First Knight of High Justice and Ponchas the Third’s champion. He pursued a demon into the Abyss, seeking High Justice on behalf of the Keeper of Law, and was never seen from again.”
Heron shook his head in bewilderment
. “Are you telling me this chap has been down here for fourteen hundred years?”
Chancellor Alighieri gave the wing arms master an odd expression. “I am not, but that is what he seems to be saying.”
BANG! BANG! BANG!
“You are hereby notified under Title 3, Section 4, Clause 132 of Military Justice that you are in violation of a direct order from the First Knight of High Justice, Sir Samwell!” the voice yelled. “If I have to demand you to open this hatch one more time, I will find you in contempt and subject to High Justice!”
“You mean he’s going to execute us?” Gaius asked in shock. “Inside this ship? Is he mad?”
“As I said, he is definitely Oorstemothian!” Barabus heard Sir Lady Serah whisper to Gaius.
The captain had fortunately not heard her, or was overlooking the slight. “That is what he is implying,” he said, shaking his head. Let us change places, Stevensword!”
The XO dropped to the deck and the captain climbed the ladder. “Sir Samwell! This is Captain Casper Cranshall, in command of the Oorstemothian Extra-Dimensional Enforcement Vessel Inferno, under the leadership of Lord Heron, Wing Arms Master of the Oorstemothian Fleet, Lord Protectator of Oorstemoth and the Council of Justice, Duly Recognized Agent of High Justice, and Commander of the One-Thousand Four-Hundred and Thirteenth Sky Fleet of Oorstemoth. I apologize for the delay, but security protocols dictate that before allowing you to board this vessel, we must be able to vouch for your identity.”
“Argh,” the voice complained. Its owner made some sort of clanking noises and then suddenly slammed a medallion down upon the porthole. “Is this validation enough?”
“Uhm, one moment,” the captain replied before looking down at the others. “I do not recognize this medallion.”
Heron sighed and said, “Let me look.”
The captain dropped to the deck and Heron climbed the ladder and peered through the porthole. “Hmm.” He glanced at the chancellor and gestured. “Come up beside me and take a look.”
The chancellor frowned, but came forward and gingerly tried climbing the narrow ladder beside Heron, who had slid himself over and was hanging half off the ladder.
Dante made it up and peered through the porthole. “Could you please show me the other side?” he yelled.
The medallion clanked as the person outside flipped it over. Both Heron and Dante peered at it.
“It looks like the medallions the Knights of High Justice used to wear,” Dante said cautiously.
Heron nodded. “I’ve seen them in the museum.”
“Are we certain that it was not stolen from him by a demon?” XO Stevensword asked.
“Possibly. They were, however magically attuned to the wearer,” the chancellor replied.
“This is Wing Arms Master Heron! Give us one more moment before we comply!” Heron yelled.
Barabus could hear the tired sigh from the other side of the metal hatch. This fellow must be incredibly theatrical to make such loud sighs, he thought to himself.
“Very well,” the voice said.
“Scan him with everything we’ve got,” Heron ordered the captain.
Cranshall went to a nearby mirror and began giving instructions to the chief sorcery officer. They waited a few minutes before Halferth reported back.
The captain shrugged and looked to the wing arms master. “Under the new parameters, he does appear to be human, although the Inferno’s protections are keeping us from getting a good reading. He is too close, essentially in a blind spot. However, we can detect lawful Oorstemothian spellcraft upon his person.”
Heron blew air threw his compressed lips and glanced to the three knights behind Barabus. “Let us clear the boarding area; seal the hatches to this room. If you three good knights would be willing to stay in here to help us vet this Sir Samwell, that would be appreciated.”
“Of course,” the knights replied almost in unison.
“Arch-Vicar General, Diocate, Stevensword and everyone else, please clear the boarding room. Chief Sorcery Officer Halferth and myself shall do the vetting,” Captain Cranshall said. The CSO was entering the room even as the captain issued his orders.
“I will be staying as well.” Heron said. The captain frowned, clearly not thrilled with putting so many senior officers in danger; however, it was Heron’s call.
~
It took them a few minutes to get everyone arranged. Before leaving, Diocate Temerlain Blessed the occupants of the room and performed a very abbreviated Ritual of Demon Protection. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. After that, he left the room and the last airtight hatch into the room was sealed behind him.
Heron nodded to the captain, who in turn, nodded to Stevensword. He kept his hand clear, ready to draw his short sword should this be a trick.
Stevensword climbed the ladder and began turning the wheel on the hatch to open it. “Step back for the hatch to open!” he called. There was some clanking as the person on the deck moved. Stevensword gave another turn of the wheel and then turned the handle. There was a slight hiss of air and the hatch sprang upward slightly, allowing the XO to rotate it open.
“Finally!” the voice complained. “Your efficiency is sadly lacking. I shall have to report you to the Keeper of Law!” Hot, dry air swept into the chamber, bringing everyone’s perspiration level to new records.
Stevensword jumped down off the ladder even as an ornately helmeted head peered down through the hatch into the boarding room. “Sir Samwell, First Knight of High Justice, Champion of the Keeper of Law, Ponchas the Third respectfully requests permission to come aboard, captain!” the knight shouted down the hatch.
Captain Cranshall glanced at Heron, who gave him a nod to continue. “Permission granted,” the captain responded.
The ornamented helmet nodded on the knight’s shoulders and disappeared. A moment later, a heavily and ornately armored foot came through the hatch, stepping tentatively on the top rung. “Hmm, this might be a bit tricky,” the knight said.
With some loud clanking noises and more than a little difficulty, the knight began lowering himself through the hatch. It was a difficult fit, Heron thought to himself. The hatch was not that large and the knight’s armor was quite bulky and fluted. It was a set of armor that Heron himself would never think to wear into battle, designed more for court than for combat.
Eventually the knight made it to the deck and turned to face them. He let out a loud sigh as he stepped away from the ladder so that XO Stevensword could ascend and close the hatch.
The knight reached up and twisted his helmet, removing it to reveal a very human-looking man in his mid-twenties with red hair and a neatly trimmed beard and moustache. The knight grinned happily at them, seeming quite pleased to be there. “You gentlemen are a true sight for sore eyes!” The young man stuffed his helmet under one arm and began pulling his gauntlets off. “I had begun to give up hope of ever getting out of this accursed place!”
He hung his gauntlets on his belt. Both a sword and shield were slung across his back. He shook his head and breathed deeply of the rapidly cooling air. “Praise be to Drott Kmon!” the knight said, grinning upward and invoking the Narveson god of law and order and one of the patrons of Oorstemoth.
“Yes... about that, how long have you been here?” Heron asked sternly. He was not yet ready to be friends with this oddity. He noted that Halferth was mumbling various incantations and messing with several vials of liquid, clearly doing his job as chief sorcery officer.
The knight whistled, shaking his head. “An eternity, it seems. There is no day or night here and no need to sleep, so I literally have no idea. It feels like centuries!” He grinned at them again.
“About fourteen, I should imagine,” Sir Gaius said, drawing the knight’s attention. The Oorstemothian knight blinked at the sight of the three Knights Rampant.
“Knights of Tiernon?” Sir Samwell asked. He looked back to Wing Arms Master Heron and then to the captain. “That seems a bit odd. I trust that the
proper paperwork has been completed and accounted for?”
“I told you he was Oorstemothian,” Heron overheard Sir Lady Serah whisper to Gaius. Heron suppressed a tight grin. He had been thinking the exact same thing. This being was clearly familiar with Oorstemoth and the law. “Indeed. It is an official alliance, approved by the Council of Justice for this mission,” he told the antique knight.
Sir Samwell nodded his head briefly in acceptance. “I shall trust your word on that, uhm, Lord Protectator… I am not at all familiar with your titles. I assume there has been some reorganization in the time I’ve been trapped here.”
“Considerable. As Sir Gaius points out, by Astlanian time you have been here over fourteen centuries,” Heron told the knight.
Sir Samwell blinked, clearly shocked. He grimaced. “You mean as in one thousand, four hundred years?”
“Today is Demoni 7th, 1631 OOT,” Stevensword told the knight.
Sir Samwell seemed to stagger slightly. “Seriously? I pursued that accursed archdemon through the Gates of Hell on Nilis 12th, 135! Nearly fifteen centuries ago!” There was a loud clanging noise as the knight fell against the bulkhead behind him, clearly taken aback by the time he had spent in the Abyss. There was an ear-wrenching sound of metal scraping on metal as the knight slowly slid down the bulkhead in shock.
“Yes,” Sir Gadius said, moving closer to the sitting knight, his sword ready. “You appear to be human; thus I fear I must enquire as to how you are still alive.” He phrased this more as an accusation than a question.
“What?” the knight seemed puzzled and looked up at the Knight Rampant, shaking his head. “Clearly you are unfamiliar with this place. Have you ever tried dying here?”
That caused everyone to shift uncomfortably, remembering their heated discussions about the topic this afternoon.
“What exactly do you mean?” Captain Cranshall demanded.
“Well, it’s bloody difficult is what I mean!” Sir Samwell retorted angrily.
“What do you mean, it is difficult?” Sir Lady Serah asked.
“I mean this is the land of the dead and the damned! No one is actually alive here, not in the normal sense. If you are already dead, how exactly are you supposed to die?” the knight asked as if explaining the obvious to a group of morons.