Apostles of Doom

“Indeed. We are currently at ten leagues per hour,” XO Stevensword replied. “About one-sixth of our optimal cruising speed. Given the current state of the drives, about one-third of what our engineers report as our current operational cruising speed.”

“So we have about half an hour to kill,” Gadius stated.

“So we are arriving at nowhere?” Sir Samwell asked, entering the bridge. Heron had sent a crew member to notify the knight. His long presence in the Abyss should allow him to provide them useful insight.

XO Stevensword replied, “Indeed. As we come around this next pillar, we should be able to see it. Our visual range is quite limited due to our cloaking shields.”

“Hmm. In that case, the nothing that is there should not see us.” Sir Samwell chuckled, looking down at the map table showing their position.

“Indeed,” Heron replied, nodding.

“Well, there is definitely something there,” CSO Halferth said, looking up from a scrying plate on his console. “I can detect quite a bit of mana and animus at the location, despite the fact that our own shields are obscuring my measurements.”

“How large?” Chancellor Alighieri asked.

Halferth shrugged. “Very hard to tell; either a very large army or some very large demons. Or both.”

“Great.” Cranshall shook his head. “Full power to the defensive shields; take us to battle stations.”

XO Stevensword activated the battle station alert and the bridge went red even as alarms sounded through the ship.

“We should be seeing it just… about… now!” Mister Cerenkov, the helmsman, reported.

Even as he said “now,” they rounded the pillar, revealing that there was definitely something there.

“Where the Abyss did that come from?” Sir Samwell cursed, sounding genuinely shocked and surprised. “That wasn’t there last month!”

Gadius looked over at the knight. “How do you track months without a moon, or day and night?”

Samwell smiled and pulled a small ornate disk on a chain from under his armor. “Pocket watch. There may be no night and day, but time still works.” He clicked on the side and a small metal door popped open to reveal a glass plate covering the hands of a small clock.

Chancellor Alighieri’s eyes widened. “Is that one of Gyr D’Loon’s creations?”

“Indeed.” Sir Samwell smiled. “If you wish to examine it, after we finish taking stock of this — impossibility…”

“Oh!” Dante shook his head to clear it, having completely forgotten the task at hand. “Of course.” He looked back at the viewing screen. “What is that?”

“It looks like a melted castle,” Sir Lady Serah replied.

“Or a stalagmite castle?” Gadius countered.

“Yes, but where did it drip from?” Gaius asked.

“It is colorful,” Heron said.

“Particularly for the Abyss,” Sir Samwell agreed.

“Maybe it’s a wax castle? It looks like it sort of melted into that form,” Dante suggested.

“I have never seen a fortress that looked like that,” Barabus said, shaking his head. It was clearly a fortress of some sort. It had walls with towers, or spikes at least, and windows. There was a moat of lava flowing around the walls, although no sign of a nearby volcano. The inner fortress had multiple towers as well, including several that seemed to bend, or rather droop sideways, and one that appeared to be a full arch. It was as if the tower had once been very tall and had slowly bent over until its top had come to rest on the ground. It was not actually possible to see the base due to the outer walls, but that was the impression Barabus got.

The aspect of this weird fortification that gave everyone the thought of stalagmites and candles was the striation of every building. The walls were not made of normal stone, or if they were, they were grown stone or melted stone or something, all quite smooth and striated with different colors. Near the base were darker colors; near the heights brighter colors. The colors ranged pretty much the entire visible spectrum.

The fortress, was also rather obviously occupied. The inner buildings seemed to have holes, or openings at random heights and locations, out of which and into which demons and other creatures were flying. Now, the very odd thing was the other creatures. The demons were what one would expect for demons, familiar to anyone who had fought one, but the other creatures were highly misshapen and quite frankly disturbing, even by demonic standards. They had tentacles, smooth and suckered, random sets of mouths, and odd numbers of limbs protruding in random directions. Barabus had never even imagined such horrors existing. He was fairly certain he would be having nightmares for some time; assuming he was ever going to be able to sleep again.

“What in the name of creation are those things?” Heron asked out loud what they had all been thinking.

“Denubian Demons^TM,” Sir Samwell said with a grim expression.

“Denubian Demons?” Barabus asked. “I have never heard mention of them in any church lore I am familiar with.”