03- The Apostles of Doom Read online

  According to his commanders, Nysegard had been greatly favored by D’Orcs. This was due to the fact that the situation in Nysegard, for a very long time, had been very clear cut. There had been no questions of politics; no one tried to distract them from battle using senseless diplomacy and negotiation; no chance of peace short of outright victory. In Nysegard, it was a pure battle for survival. There were no wishy-washy labels of good or evil, no FOG or FOE; there was only Life and Unlife.

  This had confused Tom the previous evening. “Unlife? What do you mean?” he had asked.

  “That which is diametrically opposed to Life,” Tizzy had quipped.

  “That seems a bit circular,” Tom had snapped back.

  “Technically,” Phaestus had interrupted, “it is a form of life that is based on antimus instead of animus.”

  “Antimus?” Tom had never heard of that before.

  “Negatively polarized animus,” the god had informed him. “Not many individuals are even aware that animus can be polarized, but it can be. By its nature, animus has what I would call a positive polarization, at least in the parts of the multiverse that we exist in, but there do exist regions of the multiverse where the animus, or much of it, is polarized in the opposite direction.”

  Antefalken had interjected, “I’ve never heard anyone ever mention this.”

  “You would not have, unless you were talking with a skilled necromancer, and even many of those do not truly understand what they are dealing with. The difference between a resurrected individual and a revenant or similar undead is that the undead was brought back negatively polarized. This is something that can fairly easily happen when trying to shortcut the resurrection process,” Phaestus said.

  “And you know this because?” Antefalken had asked suspiciously.

  “Because I’m a god, and it is part of my business to know such things.” Phaestus had grinned at him.

  “There he goes!” Tizzy had shouted. “Playing the god card!” The octopod waved his hands in the air. “Nearly impossible to win an argument when they play the ‘I’m a god’ card. I wondered how long it would take him!”

  Darg-Krallnom and Arg-nargoloth both chuckled. “He got you, Phaestus,” Arg-nargoloth said with a smile.

  Phaestus had grinned and nodded. “In any event, Tommus, the Unlife are those beings that are primarily antimated rather than animated.”

  “Antimated? Now I think you are just making up words!” Tizzy had yelled.

  “Maybe, but I can do that because… I’m a god!” Darg-Krallnom and Arg-nargoloth both joined in the final part of the sentence, after which they all laughed.

  “So you mean zombies, ghosts, ghouls, vampires and such?” Tom had asked.

  “Yes. All forms of undead. Although there are a lot of gradations, particularly in terms of the spirits, that I don’t have time to go into,” Phaestus had said.

  “And there is no uncertainty that they are evil? Many believe that demons are evil, as well as orcs,” Tom had said. “How do you know it’s not the same?”

  “A good point, but creatures of antimus are strongly attracted to and feed on animus. They feed on the animus of others. They are thus the ultimate predators. Those they fail to completely consume are generally infected and will eventually become antimated; typically, undead of the kind that infected them,” Phaestus had explained.

  “In other words, they have no interest in talking to or even subjugating you; they simply want to eat you,” Darg-Krallnom had told him. “And they are very difficult to stop.”

  “Also keep in mind that, unlike a normal predator who simply kills you, and then your spirit or soul moves on, when you are consumed by Unlife, it is true death,” Arg-nargoloth had added.

  “So, they could permanently kill a demon or a D’Orc?” Tom had asked with great concern.

  Phaestus nodded. “Or, in theory, a god.”

  That had caused others to do a double take. “A god?” Antefalken had asked.

  Phaestus shrugged. “It would be extremely difficult, but in theory it is conceivable, although most likely not practical.” The smith sighed. “If a sufficiently powerful Unlife creature could trap a D’Orc, demon or being from the Outer Planes so that they could not depart the Planes of Orc, and they exhausted themselves in the fight, yes—it could kill them permanently.”

  Everyone had shuddered and gone silent for a moment, and then Tom’s eyes had gone wide. “That had to be what the blackness was!” he suddenly murmured.

  “What blackness?” Antefalken asked.

  “Talarius’s dagger,” Tom had responded. “There was some sort of blackness, a draining sort of thing inside of it. When I was stabbed by it, I could feel it draining my animus, my soul. That’s when I started pulling mana directly from Tiernon. I used it to cleanse the blackness, to destroy it and undo the damage it had done to me!”

  There had been a number of murmurs at this.

  “That would make sense; the highly positive gods use their power to destroy Unlife. You basically acted like a priest of Tiernon in that respect,” Phaestus said.

  “Farg’s dead eyes,” Darg-Krallnom had cursed. “And with Orcus cut off from the reserves of Mount Doom and the Doomalogues, he would have been unable to stop the darkness!”

  “So that’s how Sentir Fallon killed Orcus? He used a soul-sucking dagger?” Antefalken had asked in shock.

  They had fallen silent, contemplating what had to have been the horrifying last moments of Orcus’s life. Tom had shuddered; he had come close to the same fate. Way too close. He shuddered again now; simply remembering their conversation last night gave him a very queasy feeling.

  The evening had not been completely depressing. Vargg Agnoth had pointed out that very few Unlife had that sort of power, that direct of a connection to raw antimus. Normal Unlife were bound by more material constraints. It was generally unheard of for a D’Orc, or demon for that matter, not being able to return to the Abyss. Orcus’s demise had been a carefully designed trap, apparently coordinated between Sentir Fallon and Lilith.

  For the most part, the commanders had pointed out, Nysegard was D’Orc paradise. Not being traditional living creatures, D’Orcs and demons could not be infected by Unlife; they could only be consumed. However, once a D’Orc got severely wounded, they would dissolve to the Abyss. In order to kill a D’Orc, its animus would have to be consumed fast enough that the D’Orc could not return to the Abyss.

  “The fourth and sixth regiments are staged for deployment,” Vargg Agnoth reported as he and Helga Dourtooth entered the DCC. Those regiments were Vargg’s and Helga’s, and both had majorities of D’Orcs from Nysegard. They had no idea what they would be facing once they opened the gateway to Nysegard, so they were going in armed to the teeth with two D’Orc regiments and an D’Warg regiment.

  “Are we all set up here?” Tom asked, looking at the others. Darg-Krallnom, Arg-nargoloth and Völund were coming with them. Völund was going to investigate the functional capacity of the Doomalogue. Antefalken had decided to take a break from his current ballad to accompany them in hopes of getting yet another ballad out of the adventure. Boggy was also coming. The others in Tom’s normal entourage were busy with other tasks.

  Tom had purposefully chosen to keep Talarius in the dark about Nysegard. He was sure the knight would want to go along, and could probably be quite useful; however, Tom did not feel up to the risk of the knight returning to the Planes of Man and contacting Tiernon. One mission at a time was his current motto. Talarius mainly stuck to his room, so they could just conveniently forget to invite him.

  “We are!” Darg-Krallnom told him.

  “Then let us head down to the Portals of Doom!” Tom said with a grin.

  “Good luck!” Zelda wished them, standing beside Roth Tar Gorefest in the DCC.

  “Thanks!” Tom called back as they headed down the hall leading to the portals. The portals were an interesting place; when he’d first surveyed Mount Doom, he’d ignored them as one more giant
maze of tunnels in the mountain, due to the fact that none had been active. But they were actually a labyrinthine set of long and bending hallways, each about thirty feet wide and thirty feet high, lined with framed indentations in the natural stone of the mountain. According to Darg-Krallnom, when the portals were active, each indentation became a passage into its respective Doomalogue. Currently they simply appeared to be ornamental indentations.

  On their tour last night, Helga had pointed out that the name of the world was inscribed in what would be glowing letters over each portal, when active. Currently they were simply engravings. According to those with him on the tour last night, when the portals were active, the entire region was quite disconcerting due to the curvature of the halls and the fact that there was no way all the tunnels could possibly exist side by side, particularly the ones that turned quickly on the other side.

  Today, however, it was very straightforward. Tom could sense the active runes above the Nysegard portal. The runic name was active, but the portal was closed, indicating that it could be opened. Of course, Tom did not actually need to use his senses to find the runes, as there was a very long line of D’Orcs and D’Wargs lined up and ready to charge through the portal. The team from the DCC made their way to the front of the line, Helga dropping off to join the front of her regiment.

  Tom reached the Nysegard portal. He was not completely sure what to do, but he assumed it would be rather self-evident if he used the Rod of Tommus. He held the Rod up next to the lit rune, willed himself into the rune and quickly felt his being traversing the link to the Doom of Nysegard. As expected, there was a runic network of very similar design to Mount Doom. Unlike Doom, however, it was mostly unlit. The only portion of the network that was lit was that leading to the reserves, which they had been charging.

  Using what he knew of Doom, he followed the network from the reserves to the elemental portals. Interestingly, they seemed perfectly intact and well preserved. It should be pretty straightforward to start them. He quickly checked out the rest of the core mechanisms and compared them to their Doom equivalents.

  “So far, everything seems well preserved and in good condition,” Tom told the others.

  “Open the primary Fire portal first, followed by Earth, then Air, and finally Water,” Völund instructed. “The secondaries can wait.”

  “Got it.” Tom nodded his thanks. He released the flow from the mana reserves into the network leading to the Fire portal. The portal lit with mana and Tom willed it to open in the same manner he had manipulated the Elemental Portals of Doom.

  Rumble.

  The Fire portal turned over sluggishly. Tom prodded it again, using his own mana.

  Rumble.

  Rumble.

  The Fire portal opened; Fire, energy, began to flow into the volcano. Tom then repeated the process with the Earth portal.

  Rumble.

  Rumble.

  Rumble. CRAAACK!!

  “Fire and Earth are now active!” Tom shouted to his crew. Cheers went up.

  Rumble.

  CRAAACK!! CRAAACK!! CRUNCH!!

  “Air is open, and gases are heating up quickly!” Tom called. Now for Water!

  Rumble.

  RUMBLE.

  RUMBLE!!!

  “Water is open!” Tom said. He extended his senses to the surrounding region. Yes! Life! he thought to himself. He was detecting no nearby sign of the inky blackness of antimus. “We have animus in the nearby region. No nearby Unlife!” Loud cheers went up from the assembled D’Orcs, along with yaps of excitement from the D’Wargs. “I’m activating the network to allow the reserve mana and my mana to mix with the local animus and start the generators!”

  “I can’t believe I’m going to see home again!” Vargg Agnoth said rather huskily behind Tom. Was that a sniffling noise? Tom wondered to himself.

  KRAA…AAACK!!!!

  KABOOM!!!

  “Generators online!” Tom shouted as the generator combined the Four Elements together and released a giant ball of fire, magma and steam, along with shards of shattered ground, into the air. Now for the portal before him. Tom willed it open and a long hallway appeared before him. Cheers went up from the assembled D’Orcs

  “Be prepared for anything. Just because there is no Unlife does not mean there is no danger!” Vargg shouted.

  Tom nodded the order to Darg-Krallnom, gesturing for him to proceed.

  “D’Orcs charge!” Darg-Krallnom thundered in a truly terrifying shout.

  Tom stood aside as his army launched themselves screeching down the tunnel. Tom mentally followed them down the tunnel and then overtook them with his mental projection, surging ahead of his army. For them to get out, he’d need to clear the way. Time for a lava burst! He pushed the lava and magma flows upward, clearing the mouth of the volcano to give his screeching D’Orcs egress.

  The last regiment member charged through. Tom gestured towards Boggy and Antefalken, and the three took off after the D’Orc army. It was time to reintroduce Nysegard to the Power of Doom!

  Isle of Doom

  As the screeching increased and spread, Valg belatedly recognized the terrifying war cry of hundreds of D’Orcs bursting from the mouth of the volcano. More D’Orcs than Valg had ever seen assembled together in one place in his life!

  “D’Wargs!” Valg’s mother shouted upon seeing a huge outpouring of giant winged wargs in addition to the horde of D’Orcs. There were none of the legendary creatures in Nysegard. yet all knew of their legendary prowess and loyalty.

  From the center of the volcano, a demon larger than any of the D’Orcs, and seemingly growing larger as it flew, burst upward through the center of the D’Orc explosion, waving a huge scepter coruscating with blue and red light.

  A loud booming voice rose from above the volcano, presumably that of the ever-expanding demon.

  “Nysegard! Doom is once more upon you! The forces of Mount Doom have returned to your world. Unlife shall be defeated and the Peace of Doom shall reign again!” the voice bellowed.

  Everyone was shouting and yelling, and it was chaos on the ground as orcs began falling to their knees.

  “I am Tommus, Heir to Orcus, Master of Doom!” the bellowing voice exclaimed.

  “The Wand of Orcus!” Targh shouted, looking back at the others and pointing towards the giant demon. “He bears the Wand of Orcus! Doom has finally come!”

  Valg blinked as he refocused his Eagle Sight on his many-times grandfather. Were those tears streaming from the ancient D’Orc’s eyes and down his cheeks?

  Several of the newly arrived D’Orcs were descending on the village at high velocity. “Do I see a rusty old bucket of a D’Orc?” a very deep voice bellowed from the group of oncoming D’Orcs.

  Valg’s grandfather turned toward the approaching D’Orc who had spoken. “Darg-Krallnom?” His grandfather asked in amazement before shouting it. “Darg-Krallnom!”

  “Rust Bucket! I would have assumed you to be lich farts at this point!” Darg-Krallnom bellowed.

  “By Lilith’s frigid teats! It is you! I never thought to see this day!” his grandfather bellowed before charging full speed through the air at the oncoming D’Orc. There was a loud crash as the two collided in midair, their arms embracing each other tightly in joyous reunion.

  “Darg-Krallnom!” Valg’s grandfather shouted again as the two pulled apart to grin happily at each other. “I cannot believe you have survived!”

  “Nor I you!” Darg-Krallnom shouted.

  Valg had to resist the urge to cover his ears at the volume. He glanced up to see more D’Orcs descending on the village. He also noted other groups of D’Orcs taking off in other directions, most likely towards other towns.

  “Who else is with you?” Targh asked.

  “Arg-nargoloth is off to his namesake city, as I am sure are Helga Dourtooth and Vargg Agnoth,” Darg-Krallnom told his grandfather. “Unfortunately, so many are gone.” He shook his head sadly.

  Targh nodded. “We’ve had some word from
those who returned to the Abyss early on.”

  “It’s been a long time, and there were more losses,” Darg-Krallnom said sadly. “However, things are looking good now that Lord Tommus is with us.”

  Valg’s grandfather nodded. “He is the heir of Orcus?” he asked uncertainly.

  “Indeed, even as prophesied. He stole mana from the gods, found the Wand, relit Mount Doom, has taken our allegiance and led us to victory in epic battle! We have not only beaten, but subsumed the forces Lilith sent against us. We defeated a Chaos Maelstrom!” Darg-Krallnom shouted.

  “You what?” Targh’s eyes went wide in shock.

  Only about half of what the D’Orc had said made any sense to Valg. What was a Chaos Maelstrom? It did not sound good, but it did sound like an impressive victory.

  “You heard me, Rust Bucket!” Darg-Krallnom punched Valg’s grandfather in the shoulder. “Lord Tommus led us to decisive victory over Lilith’s forces and then convinced most of them to turn their backs on her and join our ranks!”

  “Is that a good idea?” Targh asked.

  Darg-Krallnom shrugged. “I was hesitant, but I think so. He let those who wished to return to Lilith or run away do so. There was no threat to their lives. They have sworn and bound themselves to him and so now, we watch.”

  “Well, returning to Lilith in defeat is a threat to their lives,” Targh grinned.

  “Indeed,” Darg-Krallnom said. “However, we need the bodies to fully man Doom and bring mana levels up to where we can open the Doomalogues.”

  “So are we the first?” Targh asked.

  Darg-Krallnom nodded. “As planned.”

  At this point Valg noted that the very large demon, Lord Tommus, was descending towards them. He had to blink because even though the demon was getting closer, it was also getting smaller. When it reached Darg-Krallnom, it had stopped shrinking and was about one or two heads taller than his grandfather.

  “From what I see of the greetings going on, I assume the area is secure?” the demon lord boomed in a rather awe-inspiring manner.