Apostles of Doom

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 demon? 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.