03- The Apostles of Doom Read online

  “Do your fellow gods in the Outpost know of Tartarus?” Tamarin asked.

  “Good point. Sekhmet obviously knows. The rest know of its existence, and most suspect I am involved with it. They do not, however, know where it is, nor that Tom or the D’Orcs are involved with it, and we all prefer to keep it that way, so that is a topic we will want to avoid!” Phaestus said.

  “So who will be at this dinner this evening?” Antefalken asked.

  “Well, I know for certain that Sekhmet and Bastet will be there. Bastet asked for the meeting and is leading our efforts in the Abyss. I suspect that Astet will be there as well. I would not be surprised if Usiris shows up. What with being the god of rebirth and resurrection, I suspect he will want to see for himself how Tom may or may not be related to Orcus.”

  “Usiris? As in Osiris?” Tom asked, raking his brain for mythology.

  “Indeed.” Phaestus nodded.

  “He is married to Isis?” Tom stated rather questioningly.

  Phaestus nodded. “Astet is what she currently goes by. As I mentioned, she will most likely be there.”

  Tom shook his head in awe. He was about to have dinner with the mighty Isis?

  Fort Murgatroid: Mid Sixth Period

  Iskerus stood on the wall of Fort Murgatroid, leaning on the parapet as he watched Fierd lower itself below the horizon. His debriefing, or whatever one wanted to call it, had ended not that long ago and he’d had to get out and clear his mind. To say it had been a surreal and deeply unsettling and uncomfortable experience would certainly be an understatement.

  It had borne little resemblance to the Intercessions of lore. These saints had seemed to have most of the answers before the questioning had ever begun. It had felt less like a discovery process, and more like a trial. A very pleasant, and genial trial, but a trial nonetheless.

  They had begun by reviewing the scrying. Much to Iskerus’s incredulity, their focus had been less on the actions of the mana-stealing demon than on the actions of Talarius, Barabus and himself. It made no sense; they should have been pursuing the vile demon that had stolen Tiernon’s Holy Mana and abducted the preeminent Knight Rampant of Tiernon in Astlan!

  Instead, they were concerned about Talarius’s word of honor, and the fact that his priests and Barabus’s Rod members had assisted—nay, supported Talarius in his single combat. For some reason, they had seemed quite disturbed by the fact that they had not abided Talarius’s word of honor to a demon? A very deadly Greater Demon?

  After the scrying they had spent an unusual amount of time delving into local church history. They appeared quite interested in investigating the evolution of Church doctrine and its compatibility with Church dogma. They had quizzed Iskerus on his own feelings on current church practices and how he had been taught to balance practical, day-to-day doctrinal issues with matters of dogma.

  It was not where he had expected the questioning to go. He had expected them to focus on understanding the vile demon’s plans and motivations—not how Iskerus and Barabus had handled the situation. After some time on this path, he had finally gotten up the nerve to ask them if they were interested in knowing about their efforts to get Talarius back.

  He now sincerely regretted that question. They had obligingly asked and he related their efforts with Oorstemoth and how they were working to retrieve Talarius from the greater demon. Much to his dismay, they were apparently all too aware of these plans, and were not pleased. Clearly, it had been Saint Hilda interrogating Verigas, and quite thoroughly.

  It turns out that upon entering the Abyss, all the clerics and Rod members had become disconnected from Tierhallon. All mana links were broken, prayers could not be heard and Tiernon’s avatars had lost all ability to contact or monitor the priests and Rod members.

  Iskerus had been shocked to learn this. It had never crossed his mind that this could happen. That would make things extremely difficult for his people. He had gotten a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach, thinking about the predicament Barabus must have found himself in.

  “Lovely evening,” Teragdor observed, coming up alongside the Arch-Diocate.

  “Yes,” Iskerus agreed somberly.

  “I gather from your manner that the debriefing did not go as you might have hoped?” Teragdor asked.

  “Not at all.” Iskerus shook his head and sighed.

  “They are not at all what I expected.”

  Iskerus looked at the half-orc in puzzlement.

  Teragdor shrugged. “Are they, the saints, anything like you imagined in your studies? In your imagination?”

  “Not at all,” Iskerus admitted, now understanding what the apostle meant.

  “They seem, very oddly, quite normal.”

  “Yes, like people.” Iskerus frowned thinking about it.

  “Well,” Teragdor said with a grin, or at least Iskerus thought the half-orc was grinning, “the saints were all once normal people like you and me. Now they are just very old people with a lot of power and the ears of the gods.”

  Iskerus chuckled. “That is technically what we are taught, but oddly, in my imagination, and I suspect that of most, we dream of much more. We put so many hopes and aspirations upon our saints—we imbue them with so many expectations that I suppose it becomes impossible for them to live up to such expectations in the flesh.”

  “Indeed,” Teragdor agreed. “However, I would not be too complacent with their appearance and mannerisms.”

  Iskerus looked at Teragdor, once more puzzled.

  “They are normal people most of the time, but when the Grace is upon them, they are far greater than any mortal could ever hope to be. I have only seen brief glimpses of this, but I am led to suspect that their very seeming so mortal is designed to put us mortals more at ease.”

  “Logical,” Iskerus noted, thinking.

  “Take Hilda, for example.”

  “Very well.”

  “She seems to be the most natural and down-home, simple, kind person one could imagine,” Teragdor said.

  Iskerus tilted his head back and forth. “Yes, she is disconcerting that way, but from what I have gathered she is anything but.”

  Teragdor nodded in agreement. “Half a week back, she had a personal private audience with Tiernon himself to discuss this situation we are all in. Apparently it went on for several hours, or the Tierhallon equivalent of that.”

  Iskerus looked at the half-orc in shock. “Incredible!” This news made his stomach drop. How could this, in conjunction with the very odd debriefing, be good news for him? “But I don’t understand,” he said suddenly after a moment of silence. “If this case has Tiernon’s own attention, why are they not focused more on this demon and the whereabouts of Talarius? They seemed relatively unconcerned about his fate, and were openly displeased with our efforts to locate and retrieve him.”

  Teragdor chuckled. “Well, it’s a bit more complex than you suspect. We know who the demon is that abducted Talarius; we know where he probably lives. Yet, more importantly, we already know where Talarius is.”

  Iskerus did a double take. “You know where he is? How? The saints informed me they were blind to the Abyss, that they had no way of making contact with agents there.”

  Teragdor smiled. “That’s because Talarius is no longer in the Abyss. He is in Nysegard, and that is why the saints were in your camp. They were retrieving Talarius’s steed, War Arrow, and the horse’s barding. We are mounting a rescue mission to Nysegard to retrieve Talarius!”

  Iskerus stared in shock at the half-orc priest. To say he was stunned was to say far too little. They knew where Talarius was? They were planning to get him back? Iskerus shook his head slowly. “So you know who this demon is? You were able to track him to Nysegard?”

  “Well, actually, we found Talarius once he got to Nysegard and started praying. But we do know how he got there, based on the resources of the demon that has him hostage.”

  “So you are aware of this demon? You know all about this mana-stealing demo
n? That is why the saints were not that interested in what I could add?” Iskerus asked.

  Teragdor bobbled his head while biting down slightly on his lips. “Essentially. It’s why the saints are in Murgatroy. The demon showed up here with some of his forces.”

  Iskerus once more found himself staring incredulously at the half-orc. “The greater demon’s forces? So he is actually, as we suspected, not a greater demon, but one of the archdemons that were infesting Freehold?”

  Teragdor shook his head. “Nothing that simple. We have fairly good evidence that the demon that stole our lord’s mana and abducted Talarius is the Lord of Doom.”

  “Lord of Doom?” Iskerus asked. That did not sound at all auspicious.

  “More precisely, the new, or perhaps returning, Lord of Mount Doom in the Abyss, the Prince of the Dead, God of the Underworld, Punisher of Broken Oaths, the long thought dead god of the Orcs. In short, he is either the Demon Prince Orcus, or his heir. Whichever it is, he has the Wand of Orcus, has reawakened Mount Doom and commands an army of demonic orcs.”

  Teragdor grinned, almost maliciously it seemed, at seeing Iskerus’s horrified expression. “So, Arch-Diocate, are you ready to join us on our mission to rescue our most brilliant Knight Rampant from the clutches of the Lord of the Underworld?”

  The Abyss, the Outpost: Late Sixth Period

  Tom shook his head, looking at the bulky vacuum thermos mug in his right hand. With its button-triggered flip lid and pop-up straw, it reminded him of something that could be used by the astronauts on the space station. He ran his tongue around his tingling mouth. “That is a truly unique taste!” he marveled, looking up at his hosts.

  “Perhaps the most refreshing beverage I’ve ever had in the Abyss,” Antefalken agreed.

  Bastet purred, pleased by their enjoyment of her after-dinner aperitif.

  “Amazing, really,” Tamarin said. “And these mugs? Pressure-sealed with a straw and release trigger. It’s the perfect delivery mechanism.”

  “The way it tingles in the mouth and throat going down, very pleasurable,” Reggie added as well. “I would never have thought of drinking liquid carbon dioxide.”

  “Phaestus designed the mugs,” Osiris noted. “Getting a convenient delivery mechanism for the Abyss, or even the material planes, was a bit tricky.”

  “Indeed,” Astet added. “Previously we had to travel to various moons of gas giants to find flowing rivers of liquid CO2, and drink it from the stream. Now that we can bottle it, we can enjoy it anywhere.”

  Tom blinked in some surprise. “Interesting... I had assumed you’d compressed it; I didn’t even think about it occurring naturally in various cold regions. That would be much easier.”

  Astet shrugged. “Well, that’s the best way to get it in volume. Sorcery and enchantment can be used to create it as well, but it gets a bit complex. That is a case where wizardry works far better than animagic.”

  Tom glanced to Phaestus and then turned to Bastet. “Thank you for this truly delicious meal and aperitif, but perhaps we should take some time to discuss our mutual interests.”

  Bastet smiled. “Very to the point. I like that; far preferable to the elusive style of most demons.”

  Vargg Agnoth suddenly spoke up. “Directness is also the D’Orc way.” He had said very little during the dinner. “Which me brings me to the obvious question. As gods and goddess, why are you slumming it in the Abyss?”

  Antefalken looked at Vargg, in shock for his brusque rudeness. Tom twitched his eyebrow, suppressing a small grin; Vargg had asked the question they had all been dying to know.

  Usiris chuckled. “A very obvious question, I am sure.”

  Bastet also grinned, apparently not offended. “It is, and not unexpected. And the explanation is a bit complex. However, I shall try to explain.”

  Tom nodded in appreciation of her candor.

  “As you probably know, we were less than diligent in many regions of the multiverse, several thousand years ago. We had become distracted with some questions, and operations, on the far side of the multiverse and, honestly, had not been properly honoring our commitments to our followers in all regions.”

  “We were too complacent, and allowed ourselves to be taken advantage of,” Usiris said. “In fact, we were so absorbed in our projects that we purposefully sat out Ragnarök, choosing not to take sides.”

  “For which many paid a great price. Mount Doom included,” Phaestus noted.

  Bastet sighed. “Indeed. We thought that by not choosing sides, we could remain neutral and be left alone. We therefore attended our other business elsewhere, not realizing that other combatants would take advantage of our inattention to try and steal our resources.”

  “What specifically did they do?” Tom asked.

  “Several things. For example, on Earth, Ragnarök presented a huge opening for the Demi-Urge; he used the distraction to establish critical resources near our own operations. In the years following Ragnarök, his followers increased their power at our people’s expense.”

  “Particularly, your idiot friend Ramses’ expense,” Usiris griped.

  Tom looked at him curiously.

  Usiris shook his head. “I consider that failure the start of our demise on Earth. Our previously very successful Pharaoh, Ramses the Great, totally embarrassed himself and us with his handling of the Demi-Urge’s followers. In his pursuit to preserve his ego and force the Demi-Urge’s people to bow to him, he lost half his army in the Red Sea.”

  “This is old history,” Astet glared at Usiris. “There is no point in rehashing it.”

  Tom was looking extremely puzzled. “Are you talking about Ramses pursuing Moses and the Israelites into the Red Sea?”

  “Ahh, so you know the story.” Phaestus nodded sagely. “Not surprising; it’s one of the greatest humiliations a pantheon has ever faced.”

  “I think we are getting distracted from the topic at hand,” Bastet interjected.

  “Are we?” Usiris asked. “You’ve engaged that imbecile’s services once more. The man is so stupid, he doesn’t even have a clue that you are a goddess from his mortal life!”

  “Wait!” Tom interrupted. “Are you talking about Ramses the Damned? The archdemon working with Exador in Freehold?”

  “She is.” Usiris nodded. “Which is one reason I don’t visit here that often. I think this entire business in the Abyss is simply too risky.”

  Bastet closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She placed a calming hand on Usiris’s. “Let me explain in more detail.” She opened her eyes and locked them on Usiris, who simply grunted and sat back, obviously not pleased.

  “Exactly,” Bess explained. Our endeavor here was for me to blend in and appear as an archdemon that had been living in the wilderness of the Abyss for several thousand years, but now returned. My goal was to infiltrate the courts and seek an alliance with Exador, and as things worked out, Ramses.”

  “Why would you want to ally with Exador?” Antefalken asked. “He seems to be a bit reckless.”

  Usiris pointed to Antefalken and nodded his head as if to say, See, he agrees with me.

  Bastet nodded in agreement. “He is a handful, but he is also quite brilliant, as is Ramses.” She glanced to Usiris to silence his objection. “Regardless of what some may think of them, they rose from newly summoned demons to archdemons in only a few thousand years, possibly less. Something which is nearly unprecedented.”

  Antefalken made a choking noise around his metal straw. He gestured apologetically. “However, that is beside the point. Exador knew about and was on the trail of a very powerful arcane object that would be of great assistance to us in righting the wrongs that our enemies inflicted upon us.”

  “Such as Tiernon and Torean in Astlan.” Reggie gestured towards Sekhmekt. “Lady Sekhmekt shared some of her experience of their treachery.”

  Sekhmekt bowed her head, still feeling somewhat guilty about her oversharing. “Precisely. We had believed the Five Siblings to be at the
least neutral towards us, if not amicably disposed. We had no inkling of their enmity, let alone their planned treachery.”

  Reggie shuddered.

  Tom nodded in sympathy. He had heard of the oversharing from several who had been there. “The Five Siblings have much to account for,” he said, “towards yourself and towards Doom. However, I am not sure how this artifact—by which I assume you mean Lenamare’s book—can be of assistance against the Five Siblings.”

  “How powerful a spell could there be, contained within a physical book?” Tamarin asked. “Something that powerful would require very powerful protections to even hide it, let alone keep it from imploding.”

  Bastet sighed and looked thoughtful for several silent moments. “Well, to be honest, we are not sure what exactly is in it, other than very valuable information about the workings of not only gods, but avatars and demons. Information that is not generally privy to even the vast majority of gods.”

  Astet leaned inward. “Information that might allow us to defeat and at the least, capture and bind the Five Siblings for eternity, or close to it.”

  Tom shook his head. “Really? The book did not seem that impressive to me.”

  All of the gods except Bastet were staring at him in shock.

  “You have seen the book?” Astet asked.

  Bastet nodded. “Jehenna lost it, and you and your mortal friends recovered it. Exador confided this to me.”

  Usiris stared at her in shock. “And you did not think to inform the rest of us?”

  “It was, he assured me, a minor setback.” She chuckled. “It was obviously Lord Tommus who prevented him from getting the book.”

  “You do not currently seem that upset with me,” Tom observed.