03- The Apostles of Doom

by J. Langland

  “Well, should he show up as a bard, having a keen interest in history, legend and such, I am sure you shall discover this on your own.” Erestofanes grinned and nodded. “In fact, should you get him to imbibe, which is not terribly difficult, he will give you more than enough stories for thousands of ballads!”

  “Okay, now you have me!” Antefalken said with a grin, turning to Tom. “You need to find a way to summon him!”

  Erestofanes laughed again. “Darg-Krallnom would tell you that, much like Tizzy, the task is not so much to summon Singkûn, but rather how to banish him once summoned.”

  Tom just shook his head in amusement. It would be nice to meet this fellow, particularly if he was an expert on reincarnation, and perhaps even the Phoenix Cycle. That seemed like something a Buddhist supernatural being might be of great use on.

  Nysegard Doom: Third Period

  So, was your session with Tamarin useful? Talarius asked his sword as he got dressed in his quarters in the Doomalogue. He had set himself up in an unoccupied bedroom. It was far more utilitarian than his room in Mount Doom, which made sense given the wartime nature of the entire world; however, it was far better than many camps, and even inns, at which he had stayed on missions. He had no desire to stay in the Abyss, if he was not required to, and Tom had made no mention of it.

  The demon had been true to his side of Talarius’s Oath of Hostage. He was trusting Talarius, something Talarius would probably not have done in the reverse scenario. Not that he would have ever considered trying to take a demon, let alone a demon prince, hostage.

  It was very informative on many levels, Ruiden told him. However, none of them were particularly reassuring.

  What does that mean? Talarius asked, suspecting—fearing—that he understood all too well.

  If I follow the information trail that Tamarin laid out for me, I am forced to the conclusion that not only are D’Orcs and demons essentially indistinguishable, other than by their initial race; I am also forced to believe that saints are also the same sort of beings, Ruiden told him.

  That stopped Talarius in his tracks. His blood ran cold, chills and small bumps raising the hair on his body. This was the same blasphemous conclusion he had come to in the haystack. He had not voiced this blasphemy to Ruiden, yet both the sword and the djinn were coming to the same conclusion he had.

  How is canonization any different? If we look at the liturgy, what does Tiernon’s own liturgy say they are doing? Does it not sound almost identical to D’Orcing? Ruiden continued.

  Yes. It does. Talarius thought back sourly. I had come to this blasphemous conclusion myself; I was hoping that it was simply my own misinterpretation.

  You do realize this has rather serious repercussions as to how one defines good and evil? Ruiden asked.

  I am not going to think about that right now, Talarius responded angrily. Fortunately, we are in Nysegard, where such questions are far simpler. Unlife is evil, and we can eliminate it.

  Astlan, Stone Finger Camp: Mid Fourth Period

  Jenn sat behind and to the right of Trevin, on a pillow in the Stone Finger chief’s tent. Gastropé sat to her right, Elrose and Maelen to her left. She had suggested that they should try to follow the negotiations today, unlike yesterday; her stated logic being that they should stay together in case the negotiations did not end well. Trevin had shrugged, saying that she doubted it was absolutely necessary, but might be wise all the same.

  Gastropé had looked at Jenn, puzzled. He knew that she knew that they were in no actual danger. At least, she and Gastropé were in no danger, being—in the D’Orcs minds—allies of Lord Tommus. Her real reason, of course, was that she did not particularly want Gastropé sharing the fact that the alvar were not actually willing to remove all of their forces. She felt that it was Trevin’s job as the negotiator to make this judgement and handle it in her way. She was afraid if the orcs were told in advance of the alvaran duplicity—and admittedly, she did feel it was duplicity on their part—that it might bias or damage the negotiations.

  They had been here, in the tent, negotiating for about a quarter of an hour. Things seemed to be going well enough. Trevin had not yet brought up the existence of the other patrols and incursions into orc territory.

  “So, Ariel agree to remove all of his sky patrols?” Elgrida Far Eyes summarized their discussions so far in broken Trade.

  “He will remove all of the sky patrols around Jötunnhenj,” Trevin agreed, with a bit more precision, nodding her head.

  “And what about those not around Jötunnhenj, yet still in orc territory?” a very deep voice speaking perfect Trade said. Jenn recognized the voice of the D’Orc leader, Zargvarst. She closed her eyes; this would not be good. They were about to be exposed as having been working with Tom.

  An opening in the tent wall behind Elgrida Far Eyes parted, revealing another room of the very large tent. Zargvarst, Tal Gor, Lob Smasher and Didar An Sep, all in formal gear, entered the tent. The orcs at the edges of the tent came to attention with their entrance.

  Jenn saw both Maelen and Elrose start beside her, almost rising, or perhaps jumping back. She glanced out of the corners of her eyes to see their shocked expressions. She noted that Trevin’s back stiffened in surprise, but otherwise the enchantress maintained her composure.

  “And also, what about his land patrols, scouts and soldiers of all other natures?” Zargvarst asked.

  Trevin shook her head gently. “I am sorry? I do not believe we have been introduced?”

  Zargvarst gave the enchantress what Jenn suspected was meant to be an amused nod of appreciation, but which she herself found a bit ominous.

  “I am Zargvarst El Crooked Stick, of the Astlanian Crooked Sticks. While you and I have not met, Ariel and I have met several times. I spent my mortal life combating his many crimes against the orcs, and after my death, I continued to defend our lands from the barbarous incursions of the vile alvar. I have led troops against him on over a dozen occasions, I have personally fought him to a standstill as a mortal, and once defeated him in combat as a D’Orc. He has never prevailed over me,” Zargvarst said with a fierce pride. “I know both him and his sister quite well,” he continued sternly. “If they have agreed to remove their sky patrols around Jötunnhenj, that means there are troops elsewhere in our realm that he is not withdrawing. If he were to say that he was removing all sky patrols from our realm, that would mean he was leaving ground troops, or other forces that he can conveniently claim are not sky patrols.”

  Jenn could see the tension in Trevin’s back as Zargvarst gave his speech.

  “I understand his treacherous tricks all too well to be fooled,” Zargvarst stated. He suddenly smiled and changed the subject. “As to the rest of my immediate party, allow me to present one of my fiercest warriors, Didar An Sep.” He gestured towards the female D’Orc, who nodded.

  He gestured to Lob Smasher. “This is Lob Smasher, an Elder of the Crooked Sticks of Astlan, the tribe that first contacted Mount Doom.” Lob Smasher nodded to them.

  “Finally, may I present Lord Tommus’s Shaman Commander in Astlan, Tal Gor El Crooked Stick—the first shaman to journey to Mount Doom in over four thousand years. Tal Gor, you should know, is also the shaman that blew Ariel’s cowardly wizard out of the sky, forcing the pusillanimous pig to abandon his soldiers. Craven, as all alvar are, he fled when confronted by his superior.” Zargvarst was practically spitting his contempt for the alvaran wizard.

  Tal Gor, carrying an insanely large pole arm-slash-magical staff, bowed his head to Trevin in acknowledgement. Did that staff have a mana pool? There was a very large sapphire embedded in it, along with some other sort of metallic stone mounted in a complicated setting.

  Jenn quickly made the motion to activate her wizard sight. “Holy…” she whispered to herself in surprise. That staff was extremely magical! And the odd stone had a link going off-plane. Carefully brushing it with her mind, she was able to get a sense of someone she recognized as being the demon Tom. Th
is shaman could have Tom in the room within a heartbeat!

  She glanced towards Maelen and Elrose, who were also plainly staring at the staff. Gastropé seemed to pay it no attention; he had most likely seen it before.

  Trevin nodded. “I am Trevin D’Vil, Enchantress of the Grove and Councilor of Wizardry in the Council States. With me are Maelen of the Society of Learned Fellows, Elrose of Lenamare’s School of Wizardry and adjunct of the Council, as well as Jenn Rean and Gastropé Al-Ghayrani, also from the Council.”

  Tal Gor and the D’Orcs gave all of them brief acknowledgements. Amazingly, and to Jenn’s great relief, they pretended not to know her and Gastropé.

  “As I conveyed to Elgrida Far Eyes yesterday, Prince Ariel conveys his regrets regarding this attack,” Trevin said.

  Didar An Sep snorted. Jenn noticed Tal Gor giving Didar a quick glance and a short smile.

  Zargvarst nodded. “Prince Ariel? So his father continues to refuse to die? Please convey to Prince Ariel my deepest condolences on that subject.” Several orcs suppressed chuckles at this. Zargvarst continued, “I am certain Prince Ariel regrets—his losses. What remains unspoken is his regret for his unprovoked actions.”

  Zargvarst looked around at the others within the room. “All should do well to remember that at least one half of everything an alfar says is found in what they did not say. Their purposeful omissions speak as loud as, and often louder than, their actual words.” He looked at Trevin. “Enchantress, go back to Prince Ariel and tell him who he is dealing with, so that he may know the truth of what I shall tell you.” The D’Orc commander paused to allow Trevin to nod in agreement.

  “Also, assure him that we will not kill his prisoners if he does not remove his forces,” Zargvarst stated calmly, much to the surprise of everyone in the room, particularly the orcs. There were numerous murmurs of surprise and consternation.

  “No. They shall not die, ever,” Zargvarst stated menacingly. “We shall, instead, drag them and their mounts down into the deepest and darkest reaches of Mount Doom, in the Abyss; into an impossible prison, from which not even light escapes! And they shall be mercilessly tortured, their living flesh peeled from the bone; then they shall be forced through painful regeneration—only to have this repeated over and over for eternity.”

  Jenn blanched at this, as did, of course, Gastropé. Even Maelen and Elrose seemed quite disturbed.

  “Yet, fear not, there shall be some creative respites. When not peeling their live flesh, we shall eviscerate and disembowel them, and force-feed their living organs and bowels to their compatriots.” Zargvarst grinned menacingly. “Tell Prince Ariel that these are but the least of the torments they shall endure for all eternity if he does not remove every single alfar, and every alvaran ally, stooge, henchmen and other being from our territory,” he finished. The room went silent.

  “Finally, should he agree, we will hold the prisoners here unharmed until we can verify that all alvar are gone from our realm,” Zargvarst stated, leaving another long silence.

  Finally, Tal Gor spoke up. “Any questions?”

  “I think not,” Trevin said quietly.

  Zargvarst nodded. “Elgrida, get word of our proposal spread wide, outside of the orcs, to the alvar and others. Should Prince Ariel refuse our offer, I want everyone, in particular his own troops, to know what they can expect under his command. His loyalty to his soldiers is no better than his wizard’s loyalty to the patrol he led.”

  Zargvarst turned back to Trevin and looked her directly in the eyes. “Enchantress, there is a bond between soldier and leader. It is a two-way street. Any leader who is not loyal to his soldiers deserves no loyalty in return.”

  Trevin nodded tightly.

  Zargvarst glanced around to the others in the room. “Those are the words of Lord Tommus as spoken to the commander of the demon soldiers whose leader, Lilith the Jilted Bride, abandoned them to certain defeat at the hands of Lord Tommus. Soldiers who now serve Lord Tommus, who shall be loyal to them in return.”

  Nimbus: High Tea

  “Skip the tea, I need a brandy!” Trevin said as they filed into the viewing room used for their high tea.

  “Is there anything stronger?” Maelen asked, making his way to the serving table that held the liquor.

  “I have no idea what’s left. There should be something; if not, we can send for something,” Trevin said, dropping into an overstuffed chair.

  “Well, this Zargvarst just upended everything I thought I knew about orcs,” Elrose said going to the wheeled tea cart to pour himself a cup of tea.

  “For a being who does not like negotiating, he is particularly good at it,” Maelen said.

  “Wine?” Gastropé asked Jenn.

  “Yes, please,” Jenn replied gratefully.

  “I do not believe it, but I think Zargvarst has boxed Ariel in,” Trevin said, shaking her head.

  “That was brutal, direct and no-nonsense; all traits I would attribute to an orc,” Maelen said. “However, it also showed a shrewd knowledge of the alvar and how to use their own tactics and weaknesses against them.” Maelen shook his head in wonder.

  “The business of sending messengers to broadcast their threats—that was blackmail,” Elrose said.

  “Indeed. A very un-orclike tactic,” Trevin agreed.

  “Well, he is a five-thousand-year-old demon,” Gastropé pointed out. “I suspect that gives one quite the perspective.”

  “How do you know his age?” Maelen asked.

  Gastropé paused, as if surprised to be asked that. “Uhm, well, look at the statements he made, about when he was on Astlan as a mortal, the battles he fought? But more importantly, there were no D’Orcs made after Orcus was killed, so he has to be over four thousand years old, and he said he fought for centuries. I mean I suppose he could be older, but…”

  Maelen nodded. “No, no, you are quite right. I guess I am just so taken aback by his play, that I am not putting the pieces together as fast as you are.”

  “So do we think they will actually do all those horrible things?” Jenn asked. Those were exactly the sorts of things demons were known to do. Tom had claimed to be different, and she had almost started to believe him; however, if his commanders were making such threats...

  “Oh,” Gastropé tilted his head back on his shoulders and rolled it back and forth. “I am betting they will get tired of torturing them after a few hundred years—a thousand, tops.”

  Jenn blinked. That was a very un-Gastropé-like thing to say. This was the same wizard that had actually soiled himself in Tom’s presence, and he was now making casually flippant remarks about demons torturing people? His activities with these demons was clearly desensitizing and perhaps corrupting him.

  Trevin chuckled at Gastropé’s remark. “You may be right, although I am willing to go up to two thousand years. Normal demons, yes, but remember that these are D’Orcs which were once orcs; they are bound to have some seriously pent-up revenge fantasies they will want to enact.”

  “However, it’s a moot point. It’s the threat, the possibility that they will do so, and the psychological effect it will have both to boost the orcs and to unnerve the alvar,” Elrose said.

  “So when are you going to take the offer to Ariel?” Jenn asked.

  Trevin shrugged, drinking the brandy that Maelen had brought her. “Later this evening. I want time for the orcs to get the word out.”

  “If they use their shamans, word could spread faster than you might expect,” Gastropé said.

  “Use their shamans?” Elrose asked.

  “Yes, you know how orc shamans do their dream walking and talking. They can communicate nearly instantly across vast distances and even across planes,” Gastropé said, setting his now-empty wine glass down.

  “Across planes?” Elrose asked.

  “Yeah, it’s basically astral projection. That’s how they know where to open portals between the worlds, for example.” Gastropé said as he poured himself another glass of wine.

/>   “The orcs plane travel?” Elrose asked in shock.

  “Actually, they do.” Trevin nodded in agreement. “As much, or perhaps more than humans. Their shamans are much more spread out and intermingled among their people than wizards. Shamans are sort of a combination of priests and druids. Therefore, they are much less concentrated, more spread out, and they communicate regularly with each other. I had forgotten this.” She looked to Gastropé and smiled. “Someone has been doing their reading in the library.”

  Gastropé blushed. “Uhm, yeah... I can’t stare at the ground”—he gestured to the viewport—“all day.”

  Jenn narrowed her eyes. She suspected Gastropé’s knowledge was much more firsthand. He had probably been observing Tal Gor and the other shamans working for Tom. She shook her head. She was going to need to talk to him. One glass of wine and he had seriously overshared. She did not want them to end up in some alvaran prison for colluding with the enemy.

  Mount Doom: Late Fourth Period

  Talarius, with Ruiden on his back, marched down the hall towards the demon suite, as he called it: the suite of rooms in which Tom’s demon coterie was quartered. He and Ruiden had been going around in fruitless circles in regards to the question of demons and such all day. There were no good answers.

  However, in the process of trying to figure out some way to verify what they fearfully suspected, he had recalled the conversation with the coterie and the two gods after the battle with the Knights of Chaos. Phaestus had referred to Reggie as a recent incubus arrival. At the time, Talarius had taken him to be a recent addition to Tom’s associates. However, going back over the conversation with this new context that had been forced upon his consciousness, it made far more sense that Reggie was a brand-new, freshly made demon.

  Talarius opened the door to the demon suite and looked around. No one was in the sitting room, but Reggie’s door was shut. Talarius marched over to the door and pounded on it. He heard a loud gasp and then what sounded like a deep-throated giggle. That made no sense.