Apostles of Doom

“We’re going to need one, I am sure,” Ayega agreed. “We have more than enough enemies.”

Library of Doom: DOA + 13, Early First Period

Tom wandered the seemingly endless aisles of books, taking calm solace in their comfort. He seriously needed to wind down after this evening. He wasn’t even sure how to describe it. He had been so nervous, so worried, stressed and anxious leading up to the ceremony; he couldn’t get over how calm he was now.

Yes, he was still completely wired from the entire experience, which was why he had sought the library to relax in, but he was not anxious. Worried thoughts and recriminations were not coursing through his brain as they so often were after major actions on his part. His mind felt quite light, clear and full of insights. He just felt good, happy, excited, yet so totally Zen.

It was like he had finally grokked the whole demon business for the first time. He was, maybe, finally cool with it. He had been on the active end this time and it really changed one’s perspective. Of course, his subject had been more than willing. Unlike the vast majority of demons.

For orcs, getting D’Orced was basically like canonization, divine ascension. You lived a good and virtuous mortal life, and the best and bravest were rewarded with immortality upon death. When it was fighting the good fight with glory and honor, in the service of the greater good, immortal life was a noble thing.

When it was as a slave to a nutso wizard, that was a bad thing. It was so odd how the same procedure could be so good and yet so evil. It was all about how and why it was done. Of course, that was basically true of anything, of everything.

Tom smiled happily as he wandered into the room with the really cool animage robes. Orcus’s animage robes were a layered set of robes with a belt that Tom found fascinating. He loved the design, the runes on it, the interwoven and interlocking symbols. He really didn’t know why he found it so fascinating; he just did.

Of course, technically, this was just the template robe. According to Antefalken, he was supposed to memorize these clothes and somehow make them part of his body. Talk about weird. Talk about grokking! You’d have to really know, understand, grok the robes in order to make them a part of yourself. So were all these wardrobe heavy demon lords Zen masters or something?

Tom shifted into Edwyrd, his belt and loin cloth falling noisily to the floor. He stepped out of the belt and walked naked over to the glass case that held the robes. He carefully opened the case, and a waft of stale air came tumbling out to tickle his nose. Even the fabric of the robes smelled fantastic at this distance.

Edwyrd carefully removed the layers of the robe, gently folding the outer layers and setting them at the base of the case. When he got to the inner layer, he took it off the manikin and carefully slipped it on. Oh… it felt so good. It was some strange material somewhere between silk and satin. He ran his hands over the inner robe, pressing it against his skin, feeling every inch of it, reveling in it. He then carefully put on the outer layers, taking time to run his hands over each layer to get a feel for it, and finally fastened the belt.

It was interesting to note that the robes contained numerous hidden pockets, the perfect place to store arrowheads or dragon teeth. “So comfortable,” Edwyrd said out loud.

They were a bit big for him, though. That wouldn’t be a problem if he created them as part of himself; he’d make them his size. But for the moment, the real robes dragged on the floor. He chortled as he suddenly realized he could just make himself a bit bigger. He did so, slowly growing until the robes fit.

There was a pair of matching boots in the case as well. He would need to find or generate some socks. Although if the boots were part of himself, would he need to wear socks? As he slid his feet in, the answer became obvious; the boots were lined with some sort of soft fur.

Edwyrd stepped back out of the room. He decided he would wander once more, now dressed in these robes. It would allow him to get used to their feel, and he could comfortably explore them with his mind, much as he did runes and magical spells. He suddenly remembered there was a small mirrored room nearby. He had previously dismissed it as a dressing room, but now he realized its import. He could look at himself from every direction and absorb the robes’ features.

He moved over to the dressing room, opening the door and stepping through into the gentle, indirect lighting of the room. He shut the door. Hell, even the floor and ceiling were mirrored. He laughed, exploring the images of himself in every conceivable direction while running his hands and fingers over the robe.