Apostles of Doom

Bess was reviewing her notes regarding the previous day’s extremely disturbing meeting with Exador and Ramses when her valet, Kanefer, knocked gently on the edge of the entranceway to the parlor she was sitting in. She looked up and smiled at her loyal avatar, who was masquerading as gorgon-like demon with the lower torso of a snake and the upper torso of a handsome and muscular warrior.

“Yes, Kanefer?” Bess asked politely.

“Mistress, the demon Tutankhamun is here to see you,” Kanefer said, causing Bess to blink in surprise.

“Show him in!” Bess told her valet with a smile.

Kanefer gestured towards the outer chamber, and the boy-demon Tut entered the room.

Bess stood as Tut crossed the room to kneel before her. She tapped his chin, signaling he should rise. “Tut, tut, Tut!” Bess chided him. “You know we do not stand on such formality here!” She shook her head, smiling. “What brings you across the plains from the Courts?”

“Mistress,” Tut said, rising, “I bring news that might be of value to you.”

“I should expect so, given that you flew all the way here.” Bess grinned.

Tut nodded and smiled at his gracious queen. “I came as soon as my shift ended, taking the usual precautions not to be followed.”

Bess nodded in understanding, indicating he should continue.

“Earlier this evening, a low-level demon that I’ve known on and off for the last few decades revealed interesting details of his accursed master,” Tut told her.

Bess gestured for him to sit in the chair near hers, sitting down herself. “What did he report?”

“He had been spending far more time at the bar than had been his habit. Enquiring, I discovered that his accursed master was in Freehold, behind the wards that were raised again after Exador’s exposure,” Tut said.

Bess nodded.

“Inquiring further, it seems that his accursed master is Hortwell, one of Lenamare’s senior wizards.”

Bess smiled. “Interesting.” Indeed, another entry point to Lenamare and the book could be quite valuable. Exador had fumbled things so badly, and was currently being so extremely reckless, that another path to the book could be useful. Perhaps even necessary.

“He has also met and dealt with Lenamare’s greater demon, Zargoffelstan,” Tut added.

Bess nodded appreciatively. “I assume you’ve arranged for additional contact with him?”

“Indeed, I have. I also got his version of what happened at the school as well as afterwards. Hortwell tends to keep him around during his work hours, and so Zargoffelstan is privy to a fair amount of information.”

“And you were able to extract this information?” Bess asked, smiling at him.

“I have become an accomplished bartender over the last several decades. Free drinks work extremely well.” Tut grinned back at her.

“Excellent! This is far more interesting than worrying over my notes!” Bess exulted. “Do let us continue!”

Keeper’s City

Verigas, still tentatively the High Priest of Gizzor Del, tossed in his sleep. For the last quarter month, his dreams had been troubled. Clearly the result of his transgressions and the subsequent turbulence they had caused. Tonight was no different.

He was walking through a forest that at first had been primarily deciduous, but as he went on, the altitude began to increase and evergreens were starting to be interspersed with the leafy trees. The sky was a dark gray and he could smell smoke in the air. A rather putrid-smelling smoke, for that matter. One that served to discomfort him.

He felt lost, alone in the forest. He looked for signs of a trail and spotted what looked to be a hood or bonnet lying on the ground. He stopped to examine it; it was the bonnet of a young girl. Two of the ties were still knotted, but one tie was torn from the bonnet. As if it had been ripped off the child.

Verigas felt a chill run down his spine as the forest suddenly seemed more ominous. His eyes lit upon what appeared to be a trail through the leaves and forest debris. It led from about a foot past the bonnet deeper into the forest. It appeared to Verigas’s untrained eyes that the person making the trail had been dragging something.

He followed the trail for about another two hundred feet before he suddenly spied a small boot protruding from a bush. He quickly hurried over and around the bush, only to draw up short with a gasp at what he discovered.

On the other side of the bush, hidden from his previous view but otherwise in plain sight, was the body of a young girl! Verigas recoiled in horror. The girl’s neck was savagely mauled, and while her dress was splattered with bloodstains, the neck wound appeared to be relatively dry. There was no large puddle of blood, no dripping of blood, only stains. While the leaves below the girl’s head and neck did have blood on them, still-wet blood, they were not soaked as he would have expected.