Apostles of Doom

“One would think, but we broke our bonds with him. That is sort of his thing — punishing oath-breakers and such,” Tiernon noted.

Torean got a sour look upon his face. “I hope you are not seriously saying that he is coming to lock us up?”

Tiernon shrugged, but remained silent.

“So, where does he go from here?” Torean finally asked.

Tiernon shook his head. “I have thoughts, but no clear intuition. What is clear, though, is that Orcus, one of the most skilled players in the multiverse, has been plotting this for four thousand years while lulling everyone else into believing he was dead.”

Torean sighed. “Are we checkmated before we begin?”

“I hope not,” Tiernon replied.

Astlan, Crooked Stick Camp: DOA + 5, Early Sixth Period

Tal Gor sat in his tent after dinner. Schwarzenfürze’s body was about one-third of the way into the tent, facing outward. This meant that her most-feared weapon, which was not her ferocious jaws nor razor-sharp claws, was staring him in the face, directly under her tail. He was not sure what the wargs had eaten tonight, but he was hoping it had been something safe for Schwarzenfürze’s stomach.

However, given that she was on guard duty tonight while he went to his Dreaming this evening, he did actually feel physically safer. Not that being in the center of a heavily armed orc encampment and surrounded by his family, all of who were fierce warriors and who were now suddenly treating him as a source of pride, was dangerous; however, he was an orc, so a certain watchful paranoia was an inherited trait.

Tonight’s trance would be something new. He was going to attempt astral projection to Ithgar, something he had never done before. He had managed to project himself to the Abyss, using a summoning stone, but this time he was going to another one of the Planes of Orc, and he had no summoning stone. Only a basic shaman link to Beya Fei Geist and the other shamans who would be attending.

However, he did have something he had not had before. He had broken off a small portion of one of the cookies he had the others had stockpiled at the celebration in Mount Doom, and had ground it up into a potion to help him. This had been Beya’s suggestion. Tal Gor had never used demon weed before, but it was by all legends extremely powerful, particularly in edible form. According to Beya, if one took too much of it, one could find oneself astrally projected to the other side of the multiverse, where the laws of magic were so skewed, who knew what might happen.

Tal Gor lit the two candles beside his scrying bowl, along with an incense cone. He then drank the small vial of cookie potion and closed his eyes, relaxing his body and mind. He began a soft Chant of Concentration and Serenity while focusing on his link to Beya Fei Geist.

He had allotted plenty of time to allow himself to relax and let the potion assist him. The critical piece, in his mind, was not being afraid of failure. He had to allow himself to relax; to stop thinking about relaxing, to clear his mind and focus only on Beya Fei Geist and their link.

Eventually, feeling calmer and more than a little happy, he began the chant that would assist him in freeing his spirit from his body. He allowed the words of his chant to permeate his being, directing them over the link he could feel to Beya Fei Geist.

In his mind’s eye, the link he was tracing was suddenly surrounded by a swirling tunnel of colored lights. It felt as if he was falling down an infinitely deep well whose walls were billowy clouds, coruscating with flashing lights in an array of amazing colors. Before he could fully appreciate the dizzying kaleidoscope of colors and sensations, he found himself sitting in a large and luxurious tent.

He was seated on a large pillow, one of several in a ring around a large bowl of slightly translucent, glowing white liquid. Several short candlesticks with lit candles provided a warm glow to the room. Beya Fei Geist was seated three pillows over. Two orcs, both younger than himself, were seated on each side of her. She was holding their hands with her eyes closed.

“Welcome, Tal Gor!” Beya said without opening her eyes. “You are the first to arrive.”

That was a relief; he had been anxious that he would be late. “Thank you,” he replied.

“If you start to feel wobbly, concentrate on the bowl in the center of the circle. It will help you stabilize,” Beya told him.

“Boys, can you see Tal Gor with your astral eyes?” Beya asked the two young orcs beside her. One of them looked oddly familiar to Tal Gor; however, having never been to Ithgar before, he was sure it was just a coincidence.

They both scrunched their faces up, and after a moment the one he did not recognize said, “Yes, I see him!” This one’s voice sounded familiar. That was odd.

“Hey, Tal Gor!” the young orc hailed him with a grin, keeping his eyes closed.