Apostles of Doom

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!”