by J. Langland
Fine. We will let that particular problem rest for the moment, Tiernon said. So why are you at the Isle of Doom?
We don’t know how far out the interdiction goes, so once Orcus opened the old runic gateway to the Citadel to bring his D’Orcs through, we archons were able to go through it to the Isle of Doom. The Isle of Doom is not under interdiction, and thus Orcus is able to use it as a relay to Mount Doom, Beragamos told him.
So you have verified it is Orcus? Tiernon asked. As if invoking the Tribunal’s agents was not proof enough.
Indeed. He remembered my full name; he also remembers how Sentir Fallon slew him, and it is extremely troubling. Far worse, or at least more problematic than you feared, Beragamos said.
So he’s angry, I assume? Tiernon asked.
That may be an understatement. But in any case, we have called a truce. He does not hold the Citadel responsible for what he considers your betrayal. He did bring up oath breaking a fair amount and made a point that only the Siblings would get, regarding oaths of fraternal loyalty. None of the other avatars would have gotten the reference.
Tiernon sighed and shook his head. But you are all working together against the Storm Lords?
We are. He is the one who told us how to get around the interdiction via relays. He says the interdiction was used against him on Etterdam by Sentir Fallon, Lilith and Nét’s avatar, Aodh.
What? Tiernon, asked emoting shock to Beragamos.
Yes, it’s shocking, but it may explain a great deal, Beragamos said. Based on what he has said, and what he knew about getting around the interdiction, as well as the word of Darg-Krallnom, I have no reason to doubt him.
We will need to discuss this in much more detail when you return, Tiernon said. What do you need in the meantime?
Alert the Siblings and have them send more avatars to Nysegard and to the other enclaves, I would suggest. We need more relay links to fully power our forces here, Beragamos said. Obviously, we need more avatars as well.
You say send them to the other enclaves? Tiernon asked. Why not to the Isle of Doom?
Orcus does not trust us. Lilith sabotaged his Etterdam Doom, which is what kept him from relaying his links last time, Beragamos explained. So he’s asked Hephaestus, Sekhmekt and their avatars to guard the Isle of Doom. If we bring in too many avatars, they may see that as a threat and bring in the rest of the Nyjyr Ennead.
The Nyjyr Ennead? Tiernon asked in shock. They are allied with Orcus? Aside from Hilda’s suspicions, he had not seen or heard anything from them in the last several hundred years. Ever since Sentir Fallon’s last screw-up.
They are; and as you might expect, they are also very angry with us, Beragamos said.
Tiernon sighed. He really did not need this, but at least things were coming out into the open. Perhaps it was the Nyjyr Ennead who had convinced Orcus to call in the Tribunal’s agents? He shook his head. Better the threats you knew than the ones you did not. Is there anything else you need? he asked.
Only the obvious. We do not want to marshal our avatars for Nysegard through Sentir Fallon. I think it best to keep him in the dark about what is going on until we can sort things out, Beragamos said.
Agreed, Tiernon replied. At the moment, all we have is the word of those we have wronged under his oversight. We need further inquiry, but at the same time, I cannot risk Sentir Fallon making the situation worse.
Isle of Doom
Beragamos shook his head as he disconnected from Tiernon. How could I have been so stupid? he thought to himself. This relay link thing should have been obvious to anyone with a clear head. In hindsight, he now realized they could have used their links to other priests on Nysegard, in other cities, to make connections and teleport to those priests, thus getting outside the Citadel.
I panicked—we panicked. People as old and supposedly as experienced as Beragamos should not panic. Dealing in the mortal realms led one to think like a mortal, react like a mortal. Although perhaps not only a mortal fault; any avatar suddenly cut off from their god would panic.
However, they had just been dealing with a similar situation with the Inferno. They should have learned from that, developed scenarios for that and similar situations. Not that anyone, other than Orcus and perhaps Sentir Fallon, could have anticipated such a situation.
This business with Sentir Fallon was bad. Sentir Fallon was a longtime friend and colleague. Beragamos knew Tiernon had been suspicious, and for very good reasons frustrated with the archon; however, at no point had Beragamos actually suspected Sentir Fallon of any complicity. It was just not in the archon’s nature, or so Beragamos had thought. He had been Sentir’s strongest backer before Tiernon and Torean.
Now, today, not only had he panicked and been unable to figure out a way to deal with the interdiction—something that should have been obvious to him—he had heard credible testimony that Sentir Fallon was in league with Lilith as well as Nét. Perhaps even the Storm Lords, given that they somehow had the same magineering.
He closed his eyes. Perhaps it was time to retire, or take a break. He had been at this for so very long now and he was making mistakes. He shook his head. Look at how much he had enjoyed working with Hilda, though. Up until now, their adventures had been the most enjoyable experiences he’d had in centuries, if not millennia. Was that a subconscious recognition that he was getting too old for his job?
Chapter 146
Citadel of Light, Shrine of Doom: Shortly Before Atunset
As soon as Talarius and Stainsberry came through the runic gateway from the Isle of Doom, Talarius paused to re-secure a few items on War Arrow’s tack. They had had to return to the Isle of Doom due to the fact that his Bag of Safekeeping, which had been with the gear Iskerus had brought with him, refused to open in the Citadel. Stainsberry had had the same problem. Thus, in order to get items that both would need for the coming battle, they’d had to return to the Isle, outside of the interdiction, so they could get to their gear. He would need to keep this in mind in the future, in case this interdiction business started becoming part of a new standard in siegecraft.
War Arrow was now all set in her special Unlife Barding, which included silver horse shoes with spikes on them, along with full guards for her legs and underside. While certainly the largest, this would not be their first Unlife army. Their reunion had been very joyful and both he and War Arrow were excited to ride into battle once more.
Stainsberry’s steed, Mufasa, was a giant winged lion that had been stabled in Agnothnon; Stainsberry had needed to retrieve him and his tack, as well as his Bag of Safekeeping. War Arrow had eyed the lion warily, but had not seemed too worried. War Arrow routinely dealt with undead, Unlife, demons, all sorts of unpleasant things. A winged lion was no more than a curiosity for her.
He closed his eyes, calming himself. Only a few more minutes and he would be in battle, his mind clear and in focus for the purpose ahead. No more time for questions and self-doubt; training and experience would take over. This was a job he knew how to do, that he had done countless times.
He glanced up as he heard more people coming through the gateway behind him. It was Tom, Antefalken and three other demons of different proportions.
“Who are these—uhm—gentlemen?” Talarius asked Tom, referring to the three demons coming through the runic gateway carrying large rectangular boxes with them. “And what are they carrying?”
Tom, in his Edwyrd/Lord Orcus form, smiled at the two knights. “These are Talgorf, Bellyachus and Lesteroth Garflog, and they are carrying an invention of Phaestus’s devising. I call them Doomboxes.”
“Doomboxes?” Talarius asked, shaking his head.
“It’s a reference to my home world; to something called a boom box. These have the same sort of purpose, but are magical. They are connected to the Doom sound system, so anything we play at Doom on the organ and from the band will be broadcast—relayed—through these speakers,” Tom explained.
Talarius squinted. “What? You want music for the ba
ttle?”
Tom nodded. “It’s actually a D’Orc tradition, used to intimidate our enemies and rally our troops.”
“This is going to be epic!” Bellyachus exclaimed, nodding.
“It should enliven the battle. What will they be playing?” Stainsberry asked.
Tom shook his head. “I have no idea; I’ve left Tizzy in charge of the musical arrangements.”
Talarius blinked. “Well, this should be interesting. But I am sure it will help spur us on to victory!”
“I hope so too,” Antefalken said, holding up the protective bag for his crystal ball. “I am running out of space on my ball. I’m hoping you can defeat the Storm Lords within a few hours.”
Talarius and Tom both made choking noises at that statement. “I think we are looking at several days,” Tom told the bard.
Antefalken gritted and bared his teeth in frustration. “Well, that sucks. I wonder if they have a crystal ball store here?”
“It’s a big place—it’s actually a city,” Talarius told the bard. “So it’s possible.” He shook his head and turned back to Tom.
Tom grinned, shaking his head. He handed Talarius a large horn on a strap. “Anyway, speaking of our soundtrack, I want you, Talarius, to lead the charge and sound the Trumpet of Doom. Under normal circumstances, it would sound both where its player is and in Doom. I’ve added a link through the Doomalogue so those in Doom, as well as the Isle of Doom, can hear it.
“As we discussed, we have staged the D’Orcs in Nysegard to take advantage of the time difference. Behind the five of you, I will follow my link to the horn and open the sky portal below the storm clouds and allow the full light of Atun to bathe the field of battle. The Forces of Doom—demons, D’Orcs and D’Wargs—shall come through behind you,” Tom explained for the benefit of those that had not been at the planning table. Which would be the four demons, Mufasa and War Arrow.
Talarius nodded, acknowledging the honor with which Lord Tommus was entrusting him, and took the horn. “Demon lord, if you had told me I would be doing this when you first—er, met me? Well, I have absolutely no idea what I would have thought.” Talarius shook his head, giving Tom a rueful grin. He had almost said, When you had first taken me hostage before remembering that Stainsberry was there beside him. Although Iskerus has probably shattered that illusion, Talarius thought sadly to himself.
“This should be a good battle. I only wish the gravity canons and other high-tech equipment worked in Nysegard,” Tom said.
Talarius laughed. “Now that would not have been a fair fight. Even I would admit to that.”
Tom grinned and chuckled as well. “Good luck. I shall see you on the field of battle.”
“To all of our luck!” Talarius raised the horn as a salute.
“To luck!” Stainsberry agreed.
Antefalken spoke up. “I am going to be out there ahead of you. Be sure and crank up your armor before sounding the horn. It’s going to be dark and these balls are not that great in low light.”
“As you wish, bard. Who am I to argue the dictates of posterity?” Talarius replied.
Citadel of Light, Storm Lords’ Command Center: Atunset
“All forces are in place,” Baba Smert' hissed at Daerth Tromlane. Exador was not sure whether the old, moldy crone bones’ hiss was a statement or question.
Daerth Tromlane looked up from his command mirror and nodded. “We are set, even as Atun sets,” the Storm Lord intoned.
“The Citadel of Light makes its final stand,” Praelgeis hissed.
Exador was not completely certain, but he thought he sensed glee in the lich’s voice. He had not realized the creatures had any positive emotional responses.
“That’s interesting,” Ramses observed. Exador turned to look where Ramses was pointing. “Note that about half the Sky Wardens, those that were rotated out of combat, have changed formation and are all heading out over the sea.”
Exador used his demon sight to enhance the somewhat distant aerial force.
“This is most unusual,” Baba Smert’ hissed. “Abandoning their position above the Citadel, even as our most significant attacks are nigh?”
“Now they seem to be turning and getting into column formation, as if they are about to charge back to the battle field,” Ramses said, giving a play-by-play commentary to what they could all clearly observe for themselves.
“Whoa! Who’s the torch?” Ramses asked as a bright light suddenly flared at the head of the columns.
Exador focused his vision on the bright object. “There’s a second blue torch lighting up about twenty feet to his left.”
The first bright object was a silvery knight in glowing plate armor, riding a heavily barded flying horse. Exador blinked to see the flag and colors of a Knight Rampant of Tiernon. “That’s an Astlanian Knight Rampant! Like the apostle we saw earlier,” he told the others. Why were there Astlanians here, particularly given the interdiction?
“The blue knight,” Praelgeis hissed. “He wears the colors of the El Ohîm!”
“We cannot allow the Tribunal to learn of our beacons,” Baba Smert’ hissed.
“It would cause undue attention that we cannot afford,” Praelgeis agreed.
“We will need to ensure he is disposed of,” Daerth Tromlane intoned.
“Exador?” Ramses said with a note of concern in his voice. “Does that first knight, with the giant sword, look familiar to you?”
“What do you mean?” Exador asked, peering closer and at the sword in particular. He then zoomed in on other details, including the coat of arms on the flying horse’s overcoat.
“Uhm, correct me if I am wrong, but isn’t that Sir Talarius? The knight who was dragged down to the Abyss by Lenamare’s demon?” Ramses asked.
“Gnome’s balls!” Exador cursed. He glanced back at the seven Storm Lords in the command center area. “That knight was last seen being dropped through a portal to the Abyss by a demon belonging to my enemy, Lenamare. If Lenamare’s demon is here, we might have some difficulties.” Exador shook his head. Based on what Morthador had reported, this could in fact be quite serious indeed.
“What does that mean?” Praelgeis hissed.
“Lenamare’s demon—and I say that not knowing whether the demon works for Lenamare or Lenamare works for the demon—has reportedly raised an army of demon orcs in the Abyss,” Exador said.
“Demon orcs?” Baba Smert’ hissed in a very high-pitched tone. Exador noted that all the Storm Lords’ eyes were suddenly glowing extra-bright red. Apparently they were familiar with demon orcs, or D’Orcs as Morthador had called them.
“Yes—” Exador started to say when the most gods-awful, bone-chilling horn sounded. Or it would have chilled him to the bone if his current body actually had any real bones. He turned his attention back to Talarius, only to see him charging through the air, leading the Sky Wardens and blowing the horn.
“The Trumpet of Doom!” Praelgeis shouted furiously.
“It cannot be!” Baba Smert’ hissed in shrill denial.
As the horn’s disquieting blare finally ended, a ball of fire appeared in the air behind and above the two knights.
“This cannot be!” Daerth Tromlane boomed. “A Doom Gate! Inside the interdiction?”
Exador noted that several of the Storm Lords were hissing and cackling amongst themselves in their revolting raspy-hissing-clicking language. One which he really had no interest in having translated into Universal.
“Is that music?” Ramses asked.
“What the...?” Exador asked, frowning as a strident marching anthem blared outward from the oncoming knight. Exador noted three demons fanning out in front of Talarius, carrying large boxes. Presumably these boxes were the source of the music.
“Whoever is coming is bringing their own theme song!” Ramses exclaimed, sounding a bit too enthusiastic given the situation. “I’ve always wanted to do that!”
While they were distracted by the music, Exador suddenly realized that the ball o
f fire behind Talarius had been expanding into a ring! “How on Nysegard are they opening an Abyssal Gateway inside the beacons?” Exador shouted at the expanding ring.
“That’s not the Abyss on the other side! That’s atunlight! They are about to fry the entire freaking army!” Ramses shouted. The shouting arguments, or discussions, or whatever they were, of the Storm Lords was quickly escalating.
Suddenly, from the not-quite-an-Abyssal Gateway, a very large version of Lenamare’s demon emerged, brandishing a brightly glowing metal wand.
“Doom has returned!” Praelgeis shouted, practically in Exador’s ear. He turned to see the Storm Lords staring and pointing in shock at the large demon.
“Orcus is alive! This is not possible! We made sure he was permanently dead!” Daerth Tromlane screamed angrily.
Suddenly, behind Lenamare’s demon, a group of very large demon orcs were coming through in formation. A lot of them. A very lot of them. Exador shook his head as fanning out to each side of the D’Orcs came a second wave of normal demons. Hundreds and hundreds of them—much more than a thousand, in fact.
“What are those?” Ramses asked.
Exador saw what Ramses meant. Above and below the D’Orcs, even as the demons were to the right and left, flew some very ugly winged—wolves? No. wargs? D’Wargs? All were flowing from the ever-expanding fiery hole in the air.
The knights and Lenamare’s demon were now over the Citadel and coming in towards the Army of the Night. Exador glanced back to the Storm Lords to see them scrambling to get to their various commands, screaming at their generals and underlings.
“This is not good,” Ramses said. “There must be well over three thousand demonics. If you ask me, all of those orc demons appear to be major or greater demons, at a minimum. We outnumber them by less than a factor of a hundred! This is definitely not good!”
“I’m not sure how this could get any worse,” Exador said, shaking his head in dismay. He noted they were now alone in the command center.