The Heavenly Host

Rupert chuckled. “I don’t always look like a demon, see?” He suddenly shifted into his human form.

Fer-Rog splashed backward in the stream in shock and surprise. “What did you do?” His eyes were wide.

“I changed my form!” Rupert grinned. “This is how I managed not to get killed among the humans. I was disguised as one.” Rupert was not ready to admit he was only half demon.

“You can do that?” Fer-Rog was staring at him intensely. “That’s a pretty sickly-looking form, very puny and weak, even compared to an orc!” He shook his head. “I can’t imagine wanting to look like that.”

Rupert grinned. “I know, it’s not that pleasant, and now it feels very cramped and confining, but that’s how I survived for my entire life up until my father showed up.”

“Wow! I’m so sorry, I thought we had it bad at Mount Doom, but I can’t imagine being trapped like that and knowing that if you turned into yourself you’d be killed.” He looked up and down at human Rupert and grimaced in distaste.

“Yeah, but I’m good now. Actually, I have had a lot of fun pretending to be human since my dad arrived. It’s a great way to infiltrate humans and sneak among them and get information,” Rupert said. “At least, up until a knight kills you.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that before. If Talarius killed you, why aren’t you dead?” Fer-Rog asked quite reasonably.

Rupert laughed. “That’s the best part of Astlan. Short of really spectacular efforts, demons can’t die here. If you get killed, you just rematerialize in the Abyss. It hurts, and you have to regenerate, get your energy back, but you aren’t dead.”

Fer-Rog pondered this. “So you could go into battle, kill your foes, and if they somehow killed you, you’d just end up in the Abyss and could return to fight some more?”

“Once you’ve rested.” Rupert nodded.

“Great Orcus’s balls!” Fer-Rog cursed in amazement. “That’s like being in heaven!”

Rupert chuckled. “I think that was the point. As I understand it from Tizzy, Orcus turned the greatest of the great orc warriors into D’Orcs upon death so they could serve in his army. They could travel the multiverse fighting battles and if they died, they were simply penalized by having to stay in the Abyss for a while.”

“Yeah, that makes sense now. That is sort of what I’ve been told, but differently. It never really sank in before. But I get it now,” Fer-Rog said.

“Wow, that would be so cool!” he added after a moment. “I wish I could change form; I’d change into an orc and just travel around Astlan looking for fun and adventure, and if I got in over my head, I’d still be safe and could regenerate at Mount Doom.”

Rupert nodded. “Exactly, because if you are in disguise as a non-demon, anyone trying to kill you wouldn’t know to take the extra precautions to kill you permanently.”

“Oh, they can do that?” Fer-Rog asked nervously.

“Some people can, but it is very hard to do. Only a few wizards, and of course the priests of Tiernon, know how to do it. And even the priests, they need a big ritual to do it, so if you’ve got time to escape if you need to,” Rupert explained. “Of course, when I learned that, we were all trapped in a magical net, so we couldn’t fade to the Abyss, which was scary.”

Fer-Rog shook his head. “I wish I could change my form. That would be so cool!”

Rupert shrugged. “How do you know you can’t? D’Orcs are demons, and all the more powerful demons can do it.”

Fer-Rog frowned. “Well, I’ve never heard of a D’Orc doing that.”

Rupert frowned and thought for a minute. “But then, why would they need to? None of the D’Orcs have been able to get out of the Abyss since Orcus was killed; and before that they were all busy making war! Plus, given what I’ve seen at Mount Doom, how many D’Orcs would want to shrink down into a little orc without good reason?”

Fer-Rog nodded. “That would be cool! If only someone could teach me!”

Rupert grinned and gave what he hoped was an evil chuckle. “Well, I have taught someone before... and I’ve been practicing link spells, so now it should be even easier to show you how to do it!”

“Excellent!” Fer-Rog clapped his hands in the water, splashing Rupert.

∼

Ragala-nargoloth flopped down in her four-poled hammock bed and lit one of the cigars from her hidden stash. She was sparing in her use of tobacco since it was expensive, but this was certainly an occasion. Normally, she would have shared it with her partner, but they had only barely finished their ninth session of the night when Lord Tommus had called on her to open a portal to collect the D’Orcs and D’Wargs.

As she exhaled a large plume of smoke, she idly reflected on her rather spectacular evening. As shaman, she was naturally aware of all the taboos and customs of her people in regards to marriage and fooling around. And while sex between direct descendants was against custom, did it count if the other party was an ancestor from over four thousand years ago, and now technically a different species?