Apostles of Doom

“It’s part of intellectual property laws. Think of it as legal protection for a name,” Sir Samwell told him.

“Why would a name need legal protection?” Sir Lady Serah asked as they continued down the corridor, following Gadius’s tracking device.

“To prevent false representation, of course. I can’t imagine that you would be too pleased if some other army went around calling itself ‘The Rod of Tiernon.’ ” Sir Samwell said.

“Why would they do that, if they are not?” Gaius asked.

“Perhaps to swindle, fool or misdirect others? To gain their trust?” Sir Samwell replied.

“The Rod would put an end to that quickly,” Gadius said.

“True, but what if you were an organization that is not an army? What recourse might you have to keep someone from representing themselves, or their product, as yours?” Sir Samwell asked.

“A sword,” Sir Lady Serah said.

“Yes, but sometimes, violence is not advisable. And in many cases, there can be an honest conflict between two groups wanting to use the same name. Trademarks are legal contracts that work within courts of law to determine who has the exclusive right to a particular name under what context,” Sir Samwell said.

“Ugh. I do not think I will ever truly understand Oorstemoth,” Gaius said.

“No offense,” Sir Lady Serah said, looking at Sir Samwell, “but at times Oorstemothian diligence with respect to the letter of the law and contracts and such seems oddly reminiscent of the obsession demons have with contracts and the exact wording of the contract.”

Sir Samwell paused for a second, but then responded cheerfully, “No offense taken, but now that you mention it, I cannot say that I disagree. What a very odd coincidence!”

“Does it not strike you as odd that we have encountered no one — no demons, monsters or otherwise since we’ve entered the keep proper?” Gadius asked, peering forward into the dimly lit tunnel ahead. Suddenly there was a thunderously loud explosion, along with a sudden shaking of the tunnel around them, similar to a small quake.

“I think that might be your answer,” Sir Samwell replied, brushing dust off his visor.

“Cranshall is really giving it to them,” Sir Lady Serah marveled.

“Yes, well, let us hope he does not give them too much while we are still in here,” Gaius said, looking anxiously for cracks in the tunnel.

With that somber note, the party proceeded silently for another one hundred feet before the corridor opened up into what appeared to be a foyer. This was a larger space with three different entrances, including the one they were coming out of, along with a fourth one leading to a stairwell winding upward. Gadius gestured towards the stairwell and upward, indicating the direction they wanted to go.

“Hello, there,” a voice said. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

All four knights rotated to see a demon, a relatively normal-looking one, if there was such a thing, staring at them in shock.

The knights all quickly moved to en garde positions facing the demon.

“We are here to rescue your prisoner demon!” Gaius declared.

“My prisoner? I don’t have a prisoner,” the demon replied, sounding rather offended by the very idea.

“Your master’s prisoner,” Sir Lady Serah said, vexed.

“Uhm, my master has no prisoners here. There are no prisoners here.”

“What do you mean, your master has no prisoners here?” Gadius asked, sounding decidedly puzzled.

“He’s lying. He is a demon!” Gaius decreed.

“Excuse me. Have we met? I find your tone quite insulting. Why are you accusing me of lying?” the demon said. “I do not lie. Lying is a good way to get on the bad side of my master. You do not want to be on the bad side of a demon prince.”

“Your master is a demon prince?” Sir Lady Serah asked, shocked.

“For kidnappers and home invaders, you are remarkably uniformed about your target, missy,” the demon said, shaking its head.

“Who is your master, demon?” Sir Samwell demanded.

“Only the best-dressed demon prince in the Abyss!” the demon declared, turning up its nose in a very haughty manner.

“Are you going to answer?” Sir Gaius demanded.

Sir Samwell chuckled. “He did. There is only one demon prince who styles himself thusly.”

“Who is that?” Sir Lady Serah asked.

“Asmodeus,” Sir Samwell replied.

The demon with his nose in the air gave Sir Samwell a curt nod of acknowledgement. “At least you are not all uneducated rubes.” He shook his head.

“This is a very odd demon!” Gadius declared. “This is not the sort of behavior I would expect from a demon who just ran into four knights in his parlor.”

“Not my parlor, my master’s parlor — or rather his vassal’s, and it’s not even a parlor, it’s a foyer. Seriously, what sort of thieves, brigands and rogues are we attracting these days!” The demon sniffed loudly with disdain.

“Doesn’t he seem extremely brave, considering the situation?” Sir Lady Serah asked.

“He’s one of Asmodeus’s majordomos. They aren’t known for their modesty,” Sir Samwell replied sternly. “Further, to get to his position, he would have to be a powerful greater demon, if not a minor archdemon.”