Apostles of Doom

“Indeed, sir,” the captain responded quickly before Chancellor Alighieri could open his mouth. “Testing revealed that opening an AG and then going through it, much as the demon who stole the Arch-Vicar General’s knight did, is the most mana-efficient manner in which to transport a vessel with so much metal. As you know, getting large amounts of metal through the Astral Plane to any other plane is extremely mana-intensive.”

Heron nodded. “So we would also use dimensional gateways to go to other planes, rather than phased transitions?”

“Indeed,” the captain agreed. “However, if we wanted to go to the Astral Plane, we would need to use a phased transition, given that the Astral Plane is completely immaterial.”

“Would this be true of the aether as well?” Barabus asked curiously.

“Indeed, it would. Both would be extremely expensive; far more so than a ‘ghost ship,’ since ghost ships are generally almost entirely wooden with only iron bindings, fixtures and such,” Chancellor Alighieri explained.

“Altitude of six leagues achieved, sir!” XO Stevensword barked.

Everyone turned their attention back to the executive officer at this, relieving Barabus, for the moment, of further scrutiny.

“Excellent. Begin the checklist for the Abyssal Gateway,” the captain ordered.

“Where in the Abyss will we be upon entry?” Heron asked the captain.

The captain paused and glanced toward the chancellor at this question, who shrugged and nodded to the captain to proceed.

“That is a problematic issue.” Captain Cranshall replied.

“Problematic?” Heron asked.

“Yes, sir,” the captain said with a sigh. “We do not have any good maps or reference points for the Abyss. In fact, finding an actual spell for an Abyssal Gateway proved to be quite difficult. No one in Oorstemoth has traveled to the Abyss since the days of Ponchas VII. Not, at least, that we have documented records of.”

Heron blinked. “So over a thousand years?”

“Yes, and even then, what records we have are rather sketchy,” the captain admitted.

“So we are going in blind and could end up anywhere?” Heron asked.

Barabus felt slightly ill.

“Not anywhere, sir. That’s one reason for our high altitude. It’s highly unlikely that the gateway will open into the middle of the Courts of Chaos or someplace like that.”

Heron closed his eyes. Barabus swallowed hard.

“In that case, we must go in at full battle stations. Highest alert. I don’t want to be ambushed,” Heron ordered.

“As planned, sir,” Captain Cranshall replied, nodding in agreement.

Barabus strapped himself into the bridge observation chair next to Chancellor Alighieri. Wing Arms Master Heron was a few feet away, in the flag officer’s seat. Captain Cranshall had taken the conn from XO Stevensword, who was seated in another chair in front of a set of panels with various arcane controls. When the ship had gone to battle stations, the lighting on the bridge had turned red. Barabus supposed this was to avoid any ambiguity as to the defensive status of the ship.

“Captain, all systems are go for opening the Abyssal Gateway. The Gateway Coordinator is locked and loaded on the best coordinates we have in the Abyss. Awaiting your command!” XO Stevensword said before turning back to his panels.

“Very well. Mister Moorcock,” the captain said to the dimensional helmsman, “open the Abyssal Gateway!”

The area surrounding the viewing mirror — what Barabus had thought of as the frame — suddenly lit up in a quick succession of magical runes. One would light up and then another would light as the current one went dark. In the mirror itself, at a point about fifty feet ahead of the ship, a disturbance appeared in the air. It appeared to Barabus as if he had been looking at a painting of the sky from above the clouds, and the invisible hand of the artist had started smearing the colors.

And then it got really weird as the space seemed to warp. Suddenly there was what appeared to be a twisted reflection of the Inferno in the space; this was quickly engulfed in flames as a fireball appeared to burst in the distorted spot and a ring of fire began expanding rapidly, perpendicular to the Inferno’s keel. Inside the widely coruscating ring of flames was a red sky.

As the ring increased to a diameter large enough for the ship to pass through, Barabus saw white-topped red mountains in the distance. He shook his head, once more rethinking the wisdom of this foolish quest. They were about to travel where no mortal should ever go… into the very heart of darkness and evil.

“Abyssal Gateway is stable and fully open,” Mister Moorcock reported.

“Mister Cerenkov, take us through,” Captain Cranshall ordered the ship’s traditional helmsman.

“Aye-aye, Captain!” Mister Cerenkov replied, shifting a T-shaped handle forward.

Barabus closed his eyes and began praying to the highest power that he could think of, short of Tiernon himself: his patron archon, Sentir Fallon. He felt the ship move forward smoothly, but kept his eyes closed.