by J. Langland
“You should try something from Hilda’s wine cellar. You would think you were in heaven!” Beragamos grinned at Hilda.
Teragdor looked at him, puzzled. “If I were tasting wine from her cellar, I think I would be in heaven—Tierhallon—by definition.”
Stevos laughed and clapped the priest’s knee. Beragamos raised his goblet in a toast, chuckling. “You have a point, my friend. You have a point!”
“The real problem,” Beragamos continued, “is that this undercover work, while effective, requires a very large web of lies.”
Hilda nodded in agreement while tearing off a chunk of bread. “It does, and in fact I should probably work out a corresponding story for Trisfelt about us being here today. At some point, Jenn will be in contact with him again.”
“So my fame for practicing a defunct animage discipline will grow!” Beragamos shook his head and took another drink, emptying his goblet.
~
“What happened to you today?” Jenn asked Gastropé as they sat down for dinner. They were back on the Nimbus for the evening. Gastropé had taken a later carpet than Jenn had. “You promised to be right out to the research site. You missed a great surprise.”
Gastropé looked at her and gave a wry grin. “Probably not as big a surprise as I had.”
“Hilda is here!” Jenn exclaimed.
“Hilda?” Gastropé asked, puzzled. “You mean Trisfelt’s friend?”
Jenn nodded. “The same. She’s with her grandfather and two people in the service of Tiernon, one of whom is a half-orc priest!”
Gastropé’s eyes widened in surprise. “Well… I am not sure which part of what you just said makes less sense. Is it that Hilda is suddenly here, as fast as we got here? Or that you just told me she’s with a half-orc priest of Tiernon? Or that there is actually such a thing as a half-orc priest of Tiernon? I had no idea Tiernon or any of the Etonians had any non-human followers.”
“Neither did I, but that’s what he is. He does outreach here in Murgatroy and the surrounding region,” Jenn told him.
“That is a lot more progressive than I would expect from the helmet heads.” Gastropé shook his head. “So how did Hilda get here, and why is she here?”
Jenn shrugged. “Same reason we are: to investigate the D’Orcs.” Gastropé seemed to grow a bit paler, but Jenn was not sure. “Her grandfather, Gamos, is a Voyager and came to investigate; fearing a raid as we did, he brought her along.”
“What is a Voyager?” Gastropé asked.
“It’s apparently a very rare form of animage. Maelen nearly went insane when he met Gamos. I have never seen him so excited. You’d think he was a priest meeting an avatar or something.” Jenn shook her head, grinning.
“Another animage? What is up with all these animages just popping out of the woodwork?” Gastropé asked, puzzled.
“I know. But they are related, so it makes some sense,” Jenn said. “We had to pry Maelen off Gamos so we could all exchange information on the D’Orcs.”
“Oh, really. Did you learn anything new?” Gastropé asked with a very odd tone of voice.
“Why did you say it that way?” Jenn looked at him suspiciously, and Gastropé blanched a bit.
“No reason. Just not sure what they could tell us that Trevin’s crack team would not have discovered on their own.”
“Well, that’s where you are wrong. Hilda was the person who drank the orcs in the wargtown under the table!” Jenn grinned.
Gastropé shook his head. “Well, then, from what you have told me about Trisfelt, the two must make a perfect couple.”
Jenn grinned ruefully. “We will just need to be careful at their dinner table.”
“I remember my headache on the trip to the Grove,” Gastropé said, nodding.
“So what was your news?” Jenn asked.
Gastropé paused and twisted his mouth rather sourly. “You were right; it was nothing to compare with your news. Fill me in on what Hilda’s team learned.”
Jenn nodded and began bringing Gastropé up to speed.
Appendix I: The Localverse
Chapter 118
Mount Doom/Natoor: DOA + 1, Mid Sixth Period
Reggie groaned as the dining hall disappeared around him. He was right in the middle of hearing Sekhmekt and Talarius regale them with their stories of battling the Knights of Chaos. He sighed as his mistress appeared before him along with her associate, Astor-Thoth.
His mistress, dressed as always in an extremely cleavage-enhancing dress, looked at him in puzzlement. “My slave, why do you seem so disappointed to see me? Do we not always have great pleasure together?”
Reggie bowed. “We do. I am sorry, mistress. It is simply that things where I live in the Abyss have been quite exciting and I was listening to Sekhmekt recount the day’s battle with the Knights of Chaos.”
Merit-Ptah blinked and got a blank expression on her face.
Astor-Thoth gasped, and Reggie looked curiously at the man. He seemed to have gone into something resembling shock. “Sekhmekt?” he asked.
“Yes, incredible warrior; she’s the wife of my buddy, Phaestus. We went and got her from their palace when we detected the Knights of Chaos approaching. Phaestus said she’d be really annoyed if she didn’t get to slay any.” Reggie shook his head in amazement. “And let me tell you, she killed a lot of them. It was glorious!”
Astor-Thoth sat down heavily in the chair behind him as Merit-Ptah continued to simply stare at Reggie. Reggie was not sure why they seemed so surprised. He looked around at the new lab; they were clearly still unpacking. It was interesting that the walls of their new place seemed to be made of white-painted adobe.
Merit-Ptah blinked slowly and sat down herself.
“This ‘buddy’ of yours, Phaestus? Does he have any other names?” Astor-Thoth asked.
Reggie shrugged. “Yeah, a whole pile, but he told me to call him Phaestus. Let’s see, Sekhmekt calls him Peter, or more like Peta, really. The djinn call him Vulcan, or something like a volcano. Which is interesting because he and his friend Völund actually built the volcano fortress we are living in.” Reggie’s eyes had gone back to his mistress’s cleavage. It really isn’t that bad being here, he reflected, staring at the large chocolate globes barely concealed by the dress.
“I probably should have asked this sooner, Merit-Ptah said slowly, “but where exactly do you live in the Abyss?”
“Oh, well, I just moved in a few days back myself. It’s this volcano called Mount Doom. My best friend, someone I knew before you summoned me, just restarted it. That’s where I’ve been. He had this big swearing-in ceremony where all the D’Orcs swore allegiance to him, and then we had this big party.”
Reggie tilted his head, thinking. “And then, surprise, surprise, while we were all hung over, Lilith sends an army of demons and a Chaos Maelstrom to try and take Mount Doom.” He shook his head from side to side, not noticing the expression on the two humans’ faces. “That’s when Phaestus, Boggy and I headed up to the moon to get Sekhmekt.”
There was a thud as Astor-Thoth slid off his chair, passed out cold.
That was rather odd of him, Reggie thought. He’s always seemed so calm and in control.
Merit-Ptah was just staring at him as if in shock. Reggie was not sure what was up with her. “Mistress?” he asked. “Are you okay? Shall we hit the bed?”
It took a moment but his mistress shook her head suddenly. “No, no thank you, Reggie.” She paused for a moment. “You’ve had a very big day. I think we can postpone tonight’s session so you don’t have to miss the after-battle tales.”
Merit-Ptah stood and gestured. “Return to the Abyss, my servant.”
Reggie felt himself fade out, back to the dining hall. How very odd, the incubus thought.
Mount Doom
“Back so soon?” Phaestus asked as Reggie faded back in. Unsurprisingly, Phaestus, Sekhmekt, Völund, Talarius, Morok Deathstealer, Roth Tar Gorefest, along with a number of D’Orcs and a few demons th
at Reggie didn’t know, were all still where he’d left them a few minutes ago.
“Yeah, my accursed mistress asked why I didn’t seem as happy to see her as usual—”
“You do know it is extremely odd for a demon to want to see their mistress or master, yes?” Boggy interrupted, shaking his head.
“You have not seen my mistress!” Reggie chuckled and gave Boggy a suggestive leer. Boggy laughed as Reggie made a motion with his lower arms describing his mistress’s voluptuous shape. “Anyway, I explained that we were telling our tales of battle and when I mentioned you guys”—he gestured to Sekhmekt and Phaestus—“they got really weird. Astor-Thoth even passed out!”
Sekhmekt blinked and looked at Reggie more closely. “Astor-Thoth... that’s not a common name. Who is he? You said you are bound to a mistress?” Both she and Phaestus were looking at him curiously.
“My mistress is Merit-Ptah; Astor-Thoth is her associate,” Reggie said. “Hey, I just realized her last name is very similar to that other name of yours, pêTah.” He gestured to Phaestus.
Phaestus and Sekhmekt both started laughing loudly, and slapping their knees. The others all stared at the two.
“I am sure they did look at you oddly.” Phaestus wiped a tear of laughter from his cheek.
“You probably gave them a bigger shock than they’ve had in a long time,” Sekhmekt said with a grin.
“Do you know them?” Boggy asked.
“You could say that. They are both long-time loyal worshippers of the Nyjyr Ennead, who have been through many reincarnations with us.”
“In fact, her name means ‘beloved of pêTah,’—me!” Phaestus grinned.
Sekhmekt gave her husband a mock stern stare. “A very platonic love, yes?”
“Of course, dear.” Phaestus gave his wife a grin and then stood to give her a kiss. He had to stretch to reach her cheek, even though she was seated. She was still in a rather tall form.
“Actually, she is favored by us both,” Sekhmekt said. “She is, or often is, a great healer, which is one of my patronages.”
Phaestus struck his forehead with his palm. “How stupid of me!” He shook his head. “It all makes sense now. Usiris told me that he was working with Merit-Ptah on a reincarnation project using an incubus she had summoned. There aren’t that many recent incubus arrivals—I should have realized it was you!”
“So you know about her plans to pimp me out to lonely friends of hers who want to have dream sex?” Reggie asked.
Sekhmekt burst out laughing.
“Is that what she said?” Phaestus laughed, shaking his head.
“No, no. She wants to load you up with souls from the Wheel of Life and have you impregnate half of Natoor so we can sneak our reincarnated followers back into Astlan!” Sekhmekt grinned.
Reggie stared at the goddess in shock.
There was a clunk as Talarius, who had been tipping back drunkenly on his chair’s rear legs, leaned forward, setting the chair firmly on four legs. The knight shook his head, trying to be sure he had heard correctly. “Wait—are you telling me that you two are heathen deities?”
Phaestus turned to the knight and chuckled with amusement.
Djinnistan
“I believe this to be unprecedented,” Tamarin expressed to Le Senara al Vistra. “I have been unable to locate memories of a similar occurrence.”
Le Senara al Vistra flashed an emotion of amazed agreement. “Certainly, within my shared experiences and those of my mentor, I am unware of this information.”
Ser Sayat Tel Bastios expressed agreement. “This is incredibly valuable information. That the Knights of Chaos should be vulnerable in this manner is quite unexpected.”
“Yet, completely logical, if not obvious, if one considers thermodynamics,” Te Narthos al Biyam expressed.
Le Senara al Vistra emitted shame. “That we did not so much as think of such a thing should lead us to question our inference process.”
Ser Sayat Tel Bastios flashed a “harrumph” and expressed, “One thing that is not hard to infer is that the Lords of Chaos are not going to take this revelation of their weakness well.”
“Who will they move against first? He who revealed this information, or the individual who put them in a position where it could be revealed?” Tamarin questioned.
“Assuming that this information makes it back to Lilith, or that they believe it did, then both,” Te Narthos al Biyam expressed.
Er Tanaya Tel Barthos suddenly emoted concern, hir first expression in this exchange. “Tamarins DarNathos, is there any possibility that the Knights in the Maelstrom detected your observance of their weakness?”
“If they believed we knew of this weakness, Djinnistan could quickly become a target,” Ser Sayat Tel Bastios expressed, flashing alarm.
Mount Doom
Sekhmekt and Phaestus laughed again as Talarius stared at them tipsily. “Yes, you didn’t know?” Sekhmekt asked.
“I do not normally have to ask people that,” Talarius retorted.
Sekhmekt shook her head. “Given your great prowess, I assumed you fought alongside Tiernon.”
“I am a mortal.”
“Of course, but I often fight alongside my mortal warriors! At least, I do when it is a critical battle. Obviously, given that we have operations on multiple worlds, I cannot be in every battle,” Sekhmekt said.
“Omnipresence is much harder to achieve than omniscience,” Phaestus joked, grinning.
“Well, given that you fall disastrously short on the omniscient thing, you might want to stick to working on just one of them,” Völund snorted. Phaestus gave him a mock glare of outrage before taking another swig of beer. Phaestus had restocked their beer supplies from his brewery on Uropia.
“Well, there have been no major battles for Tiernon in my lifetime.” Talarius sounded rather defensive.
“Not since the Rod slaughtered our people.” Phaestus nodded.
Talarius glared at Phaestus. “The Rod does not slaughter people!”
Sekhmekt and Phaestus both snorted. “Apparently they don’t teach history in your schools! What do you think they did in Natoor, Najaar and Noajar? You think all of our people converted willingly? That Tiernon’s and Torean’s forces were welcomed as liberators?”
“Uhm, well...” Talarius said, trying to remember.
“There was bloodshed, murder, and yes, rape, on a truly epic scale,” Sekhmekt said. She gestured to the air above the table, and suddenly a vision of soldiers wearing centuries-old Rod uniforms appeared above the table. They were breaching the walls of a large city. And there was, as Sekhmekt had said, bloodshed and violence.
Within moments, the visions of battle spread from the table into the minds of those in the room. They were all suddenly there in Memphis, each person in the room sharing memories of someone who had been in the city when the Rod had attacked. Each viewer suddenly knew what the person whose memory they shared knew. They could remember the events of the last several days—the fear, the siege. They saw firsthand the soldiers of the Rod swarming through the city, slaying all those who stood against them. Time shifted and it was a few days later; tribunals, executions, conversions… all of the horror.
Suddenly the memories stopped and all in the dining room were left gasping. Sekhmekt, standing at her chair, shook her head, realizing that she had overshared. She sat down suddenly. “I am truly sorry; that was uncalled for.”
Phaestus rested his right hand on Sekhmekt’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I know it is hard.”
The goddess’s eyes were moist and it took her a moment to regain her composure.
“Again, my apologies. I have had too much beer. I had meant to simply display a two-dimensional image of the memories I have in my trust, but the memories spun out of control. They are still too fresh.”
Reggie shook his head, trying to recover and reorient himself to the present. “So that happened in Memphis?”
“Those memories were from people in Memphis,” Phaestus repli
ed, “but similar battles took place all over our lands in Astlan, as well as the rest of the localverse and some other parts of the multiverse. It was a very coordinated attack on our land and people roughly a thousand years ago.”
“It started out innocently on most planes,” Sekhmekt said. “We have no problems with people of other faiths living around and about our lands; thus we were not prepared for the uprisings, the hidden armies that seemed to come from nowhere.”
“By the time we, the Nyjyr Ennead, were fully aware of what was happening and that it was happening on multiple planes at nearly the same time, our mortal forces were already nearly overwhelmed,” Phaestus added.
“But enough; I think it best if my husband and I retire for the evening. Again, my apologies. None of you deserved that.” Sekhmekt looked around at the others and nodded in particular at Talarius, who was sitting in stunned silence like many of the others.
Mount Doom: DOA + 2, Mid First Period
Tom trudged down the corridor towards his suite. He was exhausted. The battle, the second allegiance ceremony, and getting the newly sworn demons (and their detached body parts) safely inside Doom and quartered had made it a long day. The majority of Lilith’s old forces had all sworn to him and he had links to each, but trust still needed to be earned, so they were all on probation.
He had assigned Delg Narmoloth, his D’Orc commander from Earth, and his D’Orcs to keep an eye on their new recruits. He figured if Delg could lead orcs against the Æsir during Ragnarök, then keeping an eye on fewer than two thousand demons should not be a problem.
He had checked on Vaselle and the rest of his people in Astlan shortly before swearing in the new recruits and shown them the balling of the battle over their campfire. They were camping outside of Murgatroy to avoid having to stable Schwarzenfürze in the wargtown and cause further problems.
He had also shared memories with Vaselle so they could fully recap what the other had been up to. Tom had to admit that sharing his memories of the battle and Vaselle’s conversations with the others regarding what Gastropé had told them was extremely efficient. It was much faster and far richer than speaking; it would just take some learning not to accidentally overshare.
