by J. Langland
The prophet shook his head and gestured Teragdor to stand. “We are on a holy mission together, Teragdor, and time is of the essence, so no need for formality.”
“Your Holiness.” Teragdor bowed his head in acknowledgement as he stood.
The prophet chuckled. “You will learn, with time, that the true secret to miracles is speed and efficiency, my lad.” The saint made a broad sweeping gesture. “We need this fortress ready and we need it in place before any of those who might seek to hinder us are even aware of its existence. We need it to appear as if it sprang up overnight,” he said, chuckling at his own words.
“Well, Your Holiness, it is pretty close to that,” Teragdor said.
The prophet smiled down at him and nodded. “And in most cases, close is good enough.” He turned to look back at the construction. “Using a true miracle to make a permanent fortress would require so much mana that it would set off alarm bells throughout the plane. The trick is to use just enough mana to avoid detection and get the job done as fast as possible.”
“That seems reasonable.” Teragdor really had no idea how to respond.
The prophet looked carefully at him. “Teragdor, we value your assistance in this. In particular, we appreciate your assistance in helping us work outside our normal channels.”
Teragdor nodded. Stevos had been very clear that they wanted to do this outside the normal church hierarchy, for some reason.
The prophet continued, “Once built, this fortress and chapel will be in your province. Stevos will help as time permits, but it will be a challenge for you. We are going to man the walls with Torean’s Rangers, and a local priest of Torean will also be here. As we find people we can trust for this mission, they too will arrive and assist you.”
“Understood, Your Holiness. Or…” Teragdor paused, uncertain if he should go on.
“Or?” the prophet asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Or, I think I understand. I’m not completely sure why you are all so adamant about not involving the Church and Rod,” Teragdor said rather timorously for an orc, or half-orc.
Baysir nodded and smiled. They were suddenly surrounded in a dome of light, obscuring the sight and sound of the courtyard.
“What I am telling you, you must not reveal to anyone in Astlan that we have not vetted,” the prophet said. Teragdor nodded. “There have been certain actions taken by the Church and Rod that make us suspect there may be some corruption of doctrine, and potentially the shielding of information from Tierhallon. Until we know how great the problem is, we are taking no chances. The Rangers and Brothers of Torean we are using are from more isolated orders here in Astlan; they too have been sworn to secrecy by Torean’s saints.”
Teragdor gulped; this was far beyond anything he would have ever suspected. He shook his head. “What sort of actions have they hidden?”
Baysir chuckled wryly. “There has been a long strand of suspicious behavior, here and on a few other planes. However, the most recent is an undisclosed alliance with Oorstemoth and an undisclosed and unauthorized invasion of the Abyss.”
Teragdor’s eyes got wide and he had to steady himself. “The Rod invaded the Abyss?”
Baysir grimaced. “Yes, and we are not particularly happy about it.”
Freehold, Council Palace
“Wow,” Vaselle said as he stood next to Damien in the demolished grand foyer of the Council Palace.
“We probably should have magically reinforced the walls,” Damien said sourly.
“Well, at least the Council will be stimulating the economy with lots of construction work, what with fleeing demons blowing holes in walls and councilors battling it out with a former councilor,” Crispin, standing beside them, said with a smile.
Crispin had finally left Freehold for Djinnistan this morning, and so Tom had been able to establish a link outside of Freehold. Vaselle had decided then and there that he needed to construct something with a link on it outside the city. He had several items in his shop with links to himself; however, the wards had been up and blocking his links, so they had been of no use to his master.
He needed something outside the city, something a bit more rugged and easier to use. Perhaps an active artifact, something with a mana pool and a fire spell that could ignite a fire to make creating the gateway easier. It would probably be a good idea to make quite a few of those. Vaselle figured it would be very useful to place them with various allies and locations they might need to travel to.
“Councilor Damien!” a very smug-sounding voice shouted from the other side of the ruined grand hall. Vaselle saw Damien visibly wince.
“Councilor Lenamare,” Damien said with a nod.
Vaselle blinked and looked more closely at his master’s accursed master.
“So nice of you to finally join us,” Lenamare said acidly.
“Yes. I had to be out of town, following up a lead on that demon you misplaced,” Damien replied. “Fortunately, you seem to have had everything under control.” He gestured to the wreckage around them. Workers were just now filing in with the morning light to continue removing rubble.
“A lead?” Lenamare asked rather drily.
“Yes, I was contacted by Edwyrd, the animage. He and your student Rupert had been working to locate your demon, along with Tiernon’s knight,” Damien said.
“And were you successful?” Lenamare asked, sounding skeptical.
“I did have some success. I will be preparing a report for the council,” Damien told his fellow council member.
Vaselle noted that Crispin was watching Damien with a great deal of curiosity. He was reasonably certain the djinni knew the truth. Vaselle suddenly wondered what the djinni would tell his master, Councilor Randolf.
“Hmm.” Lenamare sniffed and seemed to suddenly realize how dirty and disheveled Damien looked. “Have you been buried in a cave or something?”
“Something like that.” Damien said. “Scrying into the Abyss requires one to get one’s hands dirty.”
“Scrying into the Abyss?” Lenamare looked very puzzled by Damien’s statement. “I am not sure how that would be possible.”
“It is not easy,” Damien said, sounding tired. “However, I am not yet ready to publish my paper on it.”
Lenamare stared at his fellow councilor for a moment as if trying to come to some decision. He finally shrugged and smiled. “Very well, then. I look forward to both your report and your new publication on scrying into the Abyss.”
Damien nodded. “Now, if you will excuse me, I am in need of a bath.”
“Yes, you are.” Lenamare said. He nodded, turned away and proceeded upon his journey.
“We should meet for a recap tomorrow sometime,” Damien said to Vaselle.
“Sounds good to me. I’m going to go work on some new projects I have in mind,” Vaselle said. “Thank you for your assistance, Crispin.”
“You are welcome, Vaselle,” the djinni replied.
“Yes, thank you, Crispin,” Damien said. “Are you planning on informing your master of my connections to Mount Doom?”
Crispin tilted his head, thinking. “I am not sure how the Calyphos feel on that. Until they clarify, I will not be relaying any information.”
“Thank you,” Damien said, and Crispin nodded.
Noajar, New Sais: Early Third Period
“Wow, the architecture here is very odd,” Gastropé said to his companions as they wandered the streets of the walled city of New Sais in Noajar, near the southern tip of Norelon.
“Noajar was originally a colony of Najaar Kmet. So it is only natural that the cities would use the same architecture as Natoor and Najaar.”
“I am still trying to get these lands down,” Jenn said. “Najaar Kmet was an ancient kingdom or empire consisting of the continents of Natoor and Najaar, and they had settled some people here in Noajar, on the southern tip of Norelon.”
“Correct,” Elrose said.
“And the Holy Etonian Empire invaded and took them over,”
Gastropé confirmed.
“Not exactly,” Elrose said. “What we think of as the Holy Etonian Empire did not exist in its current form at that time. Initially, it was the Rod and the Rangers, exercising their newfound freedom after long being suppressed by the Anilords. So at that point there was not a Holy Etonian Empire. There was an Etonian empire that spanned the entire continent, which was essentially the predecessor to what we call the Holy Etonian Empire. Etonia Eternia, as it was called, was a theocracy ruled by a council of the High Pontificates of the Five Churches of the Etonians. The Anilords shattered the Holy Council’s power and they broke up the continent into various political regions with their own rulers to dilute the power of the churches.”
“So their invasion, which came near the end of the reign of the Anilords, was part of an attempt to recreate Etonia Eternia?” Jenn asked.
“Essentially,” Elrose agreed. “They were trying to flex their independence, and the Rod of Tiernon, which had formerly been called the Militia of Tiernon, was quite new in its current form.”
“I don’t think any of the wizard schools in Norelon cover it much,” Gastropé said.
Elrose nodded. “We give it only perfunctory coverage at Lenamare’s. It is not particularly useful for understanding modern wizardry, which comes from Norelon and Eastern Free Eton. And when I was a student, it was not covered much better. What I know, I learned from my parents and grandparents. My great-great-grandparents came to Norelon from Natoor. Thus, as you might expect, my grandparents were more than happy to discuss the depredations of the Etonians.” He chuckled.
“That must have been interesting,” Jenn said with a frown.
“To a child, somewhat amusing, sometimes terrifying. However, I probably learned more from my first teacher; his father was from Natoor and so had more recent and less filtered information,” Elrose explained.
“One thing I don’t see, though, is how could the Anilords have broken the power of the Holy Council? Wouldn’t the Etonian avatars have interceded?” Gastropé asked.
“Mmm.” Maelen spoke up. “The Etonian gods, much like others, tend to be ambivalent about political structures, so long as those structures are not constricting their worshipers and thus their mana supply.”
“That seems very cynical. One would think that prayers of people being unseated by political change would have some effect,” Jenn said.
“It does, if things are getting worse,” Maelen agreed. “However, in this case it was far subtler. The Council essentially devolved its power willingly—in a manner of speaking.”
“I have heard that, but never understood it,” Elrose said. “It makes no sense; rulers do not relinquish power.”
“It is contradictory to normal human behavior; however, if the council members were unduly influenced by advisors that shaped their thinking…” Maelen trailed off.
“What kind of advisor is going to be that persuasive?” Gastropé asked dismissively.
Maelen shrugged. “Mind Reavers.”
“Mind Reavers?” Elrose asked with a gasp.
“What are Mind Reavers?” Jenn asked, having never heard of such things.
“They do not sound pleasant,” Gastropé added.
“I thought they were myths!” Elrose said, sounding more shocked then Jenn had ever heard him.
Maelen shrugged again. “They were a particular type of Anilord. They practiced a perverted form of telemastery. Mind Reaving to telemasters is as necromancy is to self-respecting wizards. It was banned at the fall of the Anilords, and all known practitioners were hunted down and slain.”
“Slain?” Jenn asked. “Why not just put them in a dungeon?”
“Too dangerous.” Maelen shook his head. “They could easily convince the guards to let them out, and probably many others. Mind Reavers could control other people as if they were puppets. And afterward, the controlled individual would not even realize they had been controlled, should the Reaver so choose. The individual would be convinced that everything had been his or her choice.”
Gastropé shuddered. “You mentioned that Etonia Eternia was different than the Holy Etonian Empire, that it covered all of Eton, but not the lands of the Najaar Kmet and was a theocracy,” he said. “But the Holy Etonian Empire is also a theocracy and covers a good chunk of Eton plus Najaar Kmet. So why wouldn’t they just restore Etonia Eternia? You know, like an inter-regnum.”
Maelen chuckled. “Well, for one thing, The Society, which had played a great role in the downfall of the Anilords, was not interested in joining any new Etonian empire. As a member of the Learned Society of Fellows, which is actively involved in the management of the Republic of Etonia, I can say that we still have no interest in joining said Empire. Thus we have resisted, and continue to resist such suggestions. We have also allied with the feudal lords and city-states of Eastern Free Eton, to keep their influence there tempered. Thus the Holy Etonian Empire only covers about a third of the continent. I think they probably have more land and citizens in Natoor, Najaar and here in Noajar than in Eton.” He shook his head and added, “Also, they are not a theocracy.”
“They aren’t? I thought the churches ruled the empire?” Elrose asked.
“No. The Holy Etonian Emperor, Rafaestus Torson III, is independent and secular. There is a Holy Council and they work closely with the emperor, and while there is a lot of overlap, the actual government is secular. Further, the churches operate all over Eton, and in Norelon, beyond the boundaries of the empire.”
“Then what makes it holy?” Gastropé asked.
Maelen grinned and shook his head from side to side. “Well, the imperial family, with their very distinct purple eyes, is said to be descended from the god Torean.”
“Demi-gods?” Elrose asked, frowning.
Maelen shrugged and gave them an expression indicating he doubted it. “Very diluted blood at best.”
“So that’s the only holy part of it?” Gastropé asked. “I always thought it was a much bigger deal—you know, religious wise.”
Maelen nodded. “The five religions are the only recognized religions, and the empire does use the resources of the churches as extensions of itself, so it is pretty tightly integrated. However, the emperor is officially neutral to the five religions and is the final arbitrator between them in Astlan. So it is complicated, but it is not a theocracy, even though it may seem that way.”
“Wait,” Jenn said. “Back up. You included Noajar in the lands the empire controls.” Maelen nodded. “So are we actually in the Holy Etonian Empire right now?”
“We are. A colony, but still part of the Empire,” Maelen confirmed.
Mount Doom: Third Period
Tom listened carefully to his Nysegard commanders around the conference table: Targh Bowelsplitter, Vargg Agnoth, Darg-Krallnom, Arg-nargoloth, Helga Dourtooth and Völund. Tamarin had shrunk herself down to less than a foot tall and was sitting on Tom’s shoulder. She had apparently gotten this idea from seeing a cartoon image in his mind, when searching for an ideal form, featuring a demon sitting on someone’s shoulder and whispering in their ear. She had thought it would be funny if she sat on a demon’s shoulder and whispered in his ear.
“As was mentioned yesterday,” Targh was saying, “our shamans have been powering runic gateways manually as needed to shuffle troops between villages; however, it would be good to get the permanent gateways set up as soon as possible. As it is now, we have to do multiple hops to reach some destinations.”
Völund nodded. “Agreed. I think the first thing to do would be to hook your current gateways into the DoomNet. The old gateways were in the old cities and thus most likely heavily damaged. Obviously, the old gateways are better integrated, more sophisticated, use less mana and have greater range, but they may take too much time to repair. I will have a small team start investigating the old gateway, but the majority of our efforts will focus on the new ones.”
Helga nodded. “I am certain that there will be renewed attacks as soon as the Storm L
ords realize that the Doom of Nysegard is once more operational.”
Targh grunted in agreement. “They have been making periodic tests for the last few thousand years, but have not made a truly concerted effort since we finally pushed them back a bit over three thousand years ago. However, I suspect they will make a serious effort to damage us before we can get back to full strength.”
“Why have they not tried a more massive attack recently?” Darg-Krallnom asked.
“Well, for the last large battles, we formed a coalition with others, including the… Los Alfar… and were able to deplete their forces considerably,” Targh explained.
“You what?” Arg-nargoloth exclaimed in shock.
“You heard me,” Targh grunted.
“You joined forces with the fragging elves?” Arg-nargoloth seemed quite offended.
“Enemy of my enemy!” Targh replied angrily. “It was that or extinction.”
Arg-nargoloth shook his head in dismay. “I hope the cooperation ended shortly thereafter?”
“As you know, we had before, and have now, an uneasy truce. There have been times where they have called on us for assistance, and we have obliged out of honor.”
Helga grinned cynically at Arg-nargoloth. “As I have told you many times, Nysegard makes strange bedfellows of everyone.”
Arg-nargoloth sighed. “I know that very well; it is just depressing to know that things got to such a level.”
Darg-Krallnom chuckled. “We do what we must in pursuit of war. Next topic.”
Targh spoke up. “My thought is that we do the oath-taking with those in Krallmonton today and then, as we bring the runic gateways up, we proceed to each village for the rest of the oath-takings. No sense wasting time flying hundreds of leagues between towns.”
Darg-Krallnom looked to Tom regarding this issue. “Agreed,” Tom said simply.
“Does anyone have anything else to discuss?” Darg-Krallnom asked.
No one said anything so Tom thought he would bring up his idea. “I have a thought,” he said, causing the rest of the group to turn their attention to him. “Valg mentioned that when half-D’Orcs died, you”—he gestured to Targh—“and your shaman were not able to summon them back from the Abyss? Unlike full D’Orcs.”