The Heavenly Host

Hilda grinned and nodded in acknowledgement of his praise. “Glargh on the house, my treat! I want to hear the stories of the mighty D’Orcs!” She yelled as cheers went up around the tent.

∼

Rosencrantz relaxed in the soothing lava pit at Hellsprings Eternal. It was one of his favorite pits, secluded and off the beaten path. He had not been to the springs in several years; however, tailing the demon Tom to the springs had reminded him of how much he enjoyed them. Lilith had given them a few days off for their good work and so he had returned to the springs and his favorite pit.

Quite frankly, he was relieved to get this break. He had less than no desire to stake out the new Master of Mount Doom in claustrophobic underground tunnels. Thankfully, Lilith had an entire army of nearly forgotten demons stationed nearby to deal with that sort of thing.

Rosencrantz started to raise his right arm out of the lava to scratch his head when he suddenly realized the lava was putting up a lot more resistance than usual. In fact, an unprecedented amount of resistance. Was it going cold? He stared at the orange-red lava with chunks of black rock; it appeared the same as ever. It certainly felt as hot as ever, if not a bit more. However, he could no longer move.

Rosencrantz’s eyes widened as the lava before him in the center of the pit began oozing upward. A ball shape was rising from the lava on a black lava stalk. He blinked as the ball began to shape itself; within moments the ball was clearly a human-like head on a neck, albeit made out of lava.

Rosencrantz felt his non-existent bowels churn as fiery red threads of lava formed what appeared to be hair on the head, along with a red beard and mustache. Two very pointed horns rose from the temples. Black eyelids opened to reveal deep, burning-red ember eyes.

The face was clearly recognizable. The red-lava hair also rather clearly gave the individual away.

Rosencrantz stuttered. “Uh, uhm — oh, Great One! What an honor!” He gulped. This was a horror between horrors. The springs were in Moloch’s territory and thus neutral ground. This should not have been a problem; he should have been off limits.

“You may cease with the small lies, Rosencrantz. I can sense your fear. You positively reek of it,” the Co-Factor told him.

“I beg your forgiveness, your greatness. However, my mistress would do most horrible things to me if I were to so much as speak with you,” Rosencrantz said, nearing a state of panic.

“Well in that case, what is done is done. We’ve obviously been speaking,” Sammael stated with a small, tight smile.

Rosencrantz made a sad, squeaking sound.

“Relax. I would rather she not know we are speaking. We are in neutral territory, a remote area and I have shielded my presence beyond what anyone nearby can detect. If you say nothing, I will say nothing; thus you have no reason to fear your mistress.” Sammael grinned at the smaller demon. He knew how difficult it could be, and how dangerous it was, to keep secrets from Lilith. “I simply note that the demon you were following has apparently relocated. Where did he and his entourage go?”

“I am not sure what you are talking about, Great One!” Rosencrantz protested. The demon felt the lava around him start to compress.

“I am not in the mood for games. I have no problem ending you right here and now. I have been feeling a bit puckish lately,” the Lord of the Abyss stated.

Rosencrantz gulped. “How did you know this?”

Sammael scowled in frustrated annoyance. “I was also spying on him and then he left, and you and Guildenstern also left. So he has obviously gone somewhere else. Where?” Sammael demanded.

“Doom,” Rosencrantz admitted. He really wished he could sweat. It would be very useful at the moment.

“Doom?” Sammael asked, puzzled.

“Mount Doom.”

Sammael’s eyes widened in surprise. “Mount Doom? Why would he go to that abandoned dump?” He twisted his head in thought.

“Uhm, to restart it,” Rosencrantz volunteered, trying to perhaps buy a few more moments of life.

Sammael shook his head in surprise. “Start it?” He blinked a couple of times. “He would need the wand to do that.”

“Uhm, I don’t know, your greatness, but it is active once more,” Rosencrantz said.

“Doom is active?” Sammael was shocked. He then chuckled. “The woman must be shitting in her dress!”

Rosencrantz nodded, staring at the Lord of the Abyss in terror.

“You have done me good, Rosencrantz. I will not forget.” Suddenly the head glopped back down into the lava and Rosencrantz’s arms could move, free once more. The demon sighed and tilted his head back. He needed to get out of here. This place was no longer that relaxing.

∼

“So, this is the Abyss?” Damien asked Antefalken rather nervously as he and Vaselle walked down one of the rather poorly lit corridors of Mount Doom. They had just left the Temple of Doom, as Tom called it for some reason: the chamber that the D’Orcs used for much of their interdimensional communication.