Apostles of Doom

Lob Smasher nodded. He had just finished a morning meeting with Elgrida, discussing plans for both the Crooked Sticks and the Stone Fingers for the next few days. The battle with the alvar had clearly outlined the need for the orcs to have more battle training on D’Wargback.

Thus, the plan was to pitch their tents and spend the next few days with the Stone Fingers, and to train the Crooked Sticks in more advanced air-to-air and air-to-ground combat. The Stone Fingers would also participate in the air-to-ground combat training, as they would need to be prepared to battle alvar on hippogriffs.

“What are you staring at?” Zargvarst growled at Nagh, who was shading his eyes and staring up at the clouds. Nagh pointed towards one particularly good-sized cloud.

“I realize it has been thousands of years since I’ve stood upon the Planes of Orc, but do not clouds typically all follow the same general airflow at a given altitude?” Nagh asked.

“They go where the wind blows, obviously.” Zargvarst shrugged. “You have not forgotten that.”

“Well, in that case, that is a very unusual cloud.” Nagh nodded to the cloud he was pointing at.

Tal Gor used his Eagle Sight, although at such distances with such a nebulous subject, it did not help that much. However, it did seem like the cloud was moving in a different direction to those nearby.

“Hmm.” Zargvarst shook his head, indecisive. “The tall spires of the Doomalogue’s outer ring probably cause all sorts of odd airflows, and that cloud is probably at a different altitude. It is very hard to judge such things from the ground.”

Nagh nodded in agreement. What other explanation could there be? What harm could a single rogue cloud do? Rain on them?

Astlan, Orcan Plains, Nimbus: Mid Third Period

“My lady, the courier is in the upper hanger, should you wish to question her,” the ensign handing Trevin a sealed leather pouch said.

“Thank you,” Trevin told the ensign. “Excuse me one moment,” she said to the others around the table as she proceeded to open and read the message.

Trevin, Elrose, Maelen, Jenn, and Gastropé were all enjoying tea and biscuits, as had become their custom of late, at the time called “nineses” by the ship’s chef and galley master, Bernaud, as well as his fellow hearthean crew members. It was essentially a late-morning tea break for heartheans.

The galleys, in various combinations, served all the hearthean meals and then some, given that the Nimbus when on a mission operated around the clock. For those on a normal schedule there was dawn’s break at 5—typically fruits, biscuits, cheeses, juices and hot beverages; full breakfast at 7.5, which was a large meal with both hot and cold meats, eggs, pastries, griddle cakes, syrup toast, and a plethora of other calorific wonders. Nineses came as a brief respite before lunch, and was mainly tea and biscuits. Lunch was served around 11, and was usually sandwiches and salads, things that were easily taken with one to eat at work. At 14 was high tea, which was once more tea, but often with a nip of something extra in the tea, small sandwiches and pastries. At 17 was dinner, the big meal of the day — a full multi-course meal that varied by the day. At midnight, the twentieth hour, was supper (unless dinner was still going, which could often be the case). As the name implied, supper was often soup and bread, or perhaps some reimagined version of what was left from dinner. This meal, while always served on the Nimbus, was a bit less well attended due to the hour and the fact that many were sleeping. Under normal circumstances, heartheans would then be sleeping until either dawn’s break or full breakfast. However, on the twenty-hour clock of the Nimbus, there was a reverse schedule that started at 15 with dawn’s break for the other shift and concluding with supper at 10 the next day.

Gastropé only attended nineses and high tea with the group from Freehold, as that was when they all met to chat. He attended the other meals sparsely, as his hunger dictated. Dinner was his most frequent, given that it was often the most formal, with the Captain and senior crew members attending. It was an excellent opportunity to hear tales and legends.

“Frost lizards bite my toes!” Trevin cursed, surprising everyone.

Gastropé looked up from his reverie as Trevin lowered a small piece of parchment to her lap. She shook her head. “So, we arrive too late,” she said.

“Too late?” Maelen asked with a look of concern.

“As we knew, the alvar had hippogriff patrols around Jötunnhenj; well, yesterday they encountered their first group of orcs and D’Orcs,” Trevin informed them.

“So there has been another incursion from the Abyss?” Elrose asked.