Apostles of Doom

Tom frowned and shrugged; he couldn’t really think of anything. That would be a good idea, though; to get Tamarin, Vaselle and other mana wielders to research things that could aide them. He’d just been so focused on all things Nysegard that he hadn’t been thinking about longer-term strategy. Erestofanes had told them there were tons of magical resources.

Tom’s eyes widened. “I just thought of something!” he exclaimed.

“Yes, master?” Tamarin asked enthusiastically.

“Remember the council meeting where we discussed trying to D’Orc shamans and other great warriors?” Tom asked.

Tamarin’s face lit up even brighter. “I do. The library must have documentation on the D’Orcing process. They would have written it down!”

“Exactly. I have no idea why I didn’t think of this sooner, but it clearly seems like the best option.”

“I will get on it right away. This is exciting!” Tamarin clapped her hands and gave a small hop of joy.

“Thanks!” Tom said.

Ithgar, Ten Leagues from Olafa Horde Camp: Early Third Period Local Time

“This is fun. Very weird, but fun!” Fer-Rog told Rupert over their “shaman” link. Rupert thought of it more as a demon link, since he and Fer-Rog had created it at Mount Doom to help them practice shape-changing. However, Beya had shown them how to speak over it when distances intervened; since then, when they used it for talking, he thought of it as a shaman link.

“I know; it feels really weird to be flying but not flapping one’s wings,” Rupert agreed. “I feel bad that Bathesheeva has to lug me around.” He rubbed his D’Warg’s neck, feeling the rumble of pleasure in her throat.

“True, but I am sure they appreciated being out of Doom and the Abyss as much as everyone else. Don’t you, Tartevahst?” He bent down and hugged his D’Warg.

Both Rupert and Fer-Rog were traveling in their orc forms; it was part of their education and training. Also, as they encountered other tribes, explaining D’Orcs was going to be interesting enough, but a straight-out demon like Rupert? So they were traveling in their orc forms: Rog and Rugog. Obviously, Fer-Rog was Rog and Rupert was Rugog.

Fer-Rog had wanted to call himself Fer-Ocious, but Beya had said that sort of name would get his head smashed in, so he’d decided to simply use Rog. Rupert had always just gone by Rupert, so he wanted to keep the name similar so there would at least be a chance he’d know who people were talking to when they addressed him.

This morning at dawn they had launched their quest for the Ithgar Doomalogue. Hespith Fowl Breath, the first generation D’Orc squad leader for their journey, had been unable to get a lock on their location due to overcast skies last night, so they were heading to Orcopolis to get some maps for her to look at. Many things change in over four thousand years: rivers move, cities fall. In particular, they needed something to not only show where the Doomalogue had been, but more important to Hespith, where they were relative to it.

Beya thought they should be able to reach Orcopolis by late afternoon; plenty of time to get a good campsite in the city before the best ones were picked over. It was a bit odd, but apparently in Orcopolis there were camping grounds that were similar to inns. Travelers rented a space to set up their tents, and the campsite owner supplied clean water, communal fire pits and wood for them, as well as waste disposal and bathing and toilet facilities. Basically, an inn where you brought your own walls and beds. Rupert had thought this quite odd, but then what did he know? He had never actually stayed overnight in an inn himself.

Freehold: Early Third Period

“You want me to do what?” Hilda asked incredulously, setting the half a biscuit ring with schmear that she’d been about to take a bite of back down on her plate. She then reached for her Bloody Tatiana to wash down the shock.

“Yes, I know it will be tricky, but we do think that Talarius’s steed, War Arrow, will be able to help us track him down in Nysegard,” Stevos explained again.

“Yes, but you want Danyel and me”—she gestured at her assistant standing nearby—“to just march into the Rod’s camp and liberate a winged horse?”

“And the barding as well. We are likely to face a lot of Unlife, and War Arrow will need her armor.”

Hilda closed her eyes for a moment, shaking her head. She finally opened them and looked at Stevos. “And you’ve talked this over with the others? Particularly Moradel? Iskerus is already paranoid enough after losing Excrathadorus Mortis, and Danyel.”

“Not to mention the fact that the Beggars Guild is apparently still pestering him about his rogue priestess,” Danyel added with a laugh.

“What?” Stevos asked.