by J. Langland
Tiernon closed his eyes, not wanting to contemplate the thought. “We shall not go there. We need to find out who this prince is that located the long-lost Wand of Orcus and relit the volcano.”
“We never got a really good view of the thief, but I will say that he did look rather familiar,” Torean said.
Tiernon shook his head. “I noted that as well, but I don’t see how that could possibly be.”
“Do you have any idea where the Wand was?” Torean asked, changing the subject.
“None. Not a clue has been found,” Tiernon said. “My people have scoured the multiverse.”
“As have mine. The only place we haven’t looked is the Abyss,” Torean said.
“If it had been in the Abyss, someone would have found it. Mount Doom would have returned much sooner,” Tiernon stated.
Torean shrugged. “Perhaps, if they had vast mana resources, or it was somehow coded so that only Orcus could use it. A genetic marker, for example? However, even then the mana required would be significant.”
“Anything is possible. What if Orcus was not actually killed, only seriously wounded and recuperating? That would explain the thief’s appearance.”
“So he has been plotting his revenge in secret for the last four thousand years?” Torean raised a questioning eyebrow.
“We must hope not.” Tiernon shook his head. “Our intentions aside, it was our agent that slew him. He will be pissed.”
Torean grinned. “For good reason. Do you suppose he will want to collect back payments?”
“One way or the other.” Tiernon chuckled.
“So, we think the two events are connected,” Torean stated for confirmation.
“Breaking the ciphers and the restart of Mount Doom?” Tiernon shrugged. “It would seem too close in time and space to be a simple coincidence. And the stolen mana could have been used to relight the volcano.”
“Assuming one had the Wand,” Torean said.
Tiernon nodded in agreement. “What is also interesting is that this demon thief not only survived, but from the reports, reversed Excrathadorus Mortis. Something not even Orcus could do.”
“It is an interesting puzzle,” Torean agreed. “It would be good to have a look at that dagger.”
Tiernon nodded at his brother’s observation. “Indeed. I myself never examined it; however, I had several extremely high archons examine it, and they found nothing amiss.”
“Seriously? I find that very odd.” Torean chided his brother.
Tiernon shrugged. “What more would you have them do? Stab someone with it to see if their soul is eaten?”
Torean shook his head. “That would be rather antithetical to all of our teachings. In any event, it somehow made it into the hands of your Knight Rampant, who used it against this demon, who not only survived it, but reversed it before hauling the knight into the Abyss?” He tilted his head, his own words triggering a thought. “Reports are that it was reversed, so was it left in Astlan?”
Tiernon nodded. “Yes, I noted it in the balling. The Arch-Diocate on site has it in his possession.”
Torean shrugged. “So there is work to be done. We need to examine the blade.”
“Indeed.” Tiernon agreed.
Near Murgatroy: DOA + 3, Mid Fifth Period
“Hmm, I suppose it is salvageable,” Stevos said, exiting the doorway from a badly damaged corner tower. “It will take a lot of work to restore the walls.”
“The main hall is mostly intact, other than the roof.” Teragdor said. “I think it will make a good sanctuary once repaired, cleansed and consecrated.”
“The courtyard buildings are essentially worthless and will need to be rebuilt,” Stevos said.
Teragdor nodded. “Still better than anything else we found.”
The two had spent the day trying to find a new base of operations for the team. They had looked at the only two buildings in Murgatroy and not been that impressed. They had then ventured out to some old ruins in the vicinity; this one, Fort Murgatroid, was the most intact. It was a very old mud and stone fort built by the Vargosians about seven hundred years ago.
After the fall of the Vargosite Empire, it had been mostly unoccupied for a few decades before the first Earl of Murgandy decided it would be his eastern redoubt and stationed his troops there. Eventually, about a hundred years later, after Murgatroy was settled, the second King of Murgandy (the first earl’s heirs had promoted themselves to kings) they’d moved their troops to Murgatroy and abandoned the fort. It had thus been sitting empty for the last few hundred years.
Teragdor had heard tales of bandits occasionally camping there, but it was in such disrepair that none stayed long. From current appearances, it was only used as a camping site by travelers. It was roughly a league outside of Murgatroy. Close enough to be convenient, but far enough away as not to draw unwanted attention to Church activities.
They stared around in silence for a moment.
“What do you think?” Teragdor asked.
“I think it will work,” the saint replied.
“So how do we go about rebuilding it and then staffing it?” Teragdor asked. “I still don’t see what we are doing on that front.”
“I will discuss it at the team meeting tonight. We will want to use local materials, of course.” He looked around, thinking. “We don’t want to staff it with saints or archons because that would be one seriously large mana beacon, so we have some concerns about getting the Church or the Rod too involved. Plus, we would have to pull them from quite some distance, which would be noticed.”
Stevos moved to look out the wide open and broken main gate. “We could, I suppose, use Tierhallonic resources to repair it relatively quickly.” He squinted his eyes, peering to the west. “Do you think we could get some Rangers?”
“Rangers of Torean on Church business?” Teragdor asked, rather shocked.
Stevos turned, smiling at the priest. “I know it sounds odd to you and me, but in the Holy Etonian Empire the Five Churches work hand in hand on many projects.” He chuckled. “The Rod travels on ships of Namora’s Navy with wind supplied by priests of Krinna.”
Teragdor nodded. “I have been told such things, but never actually seen it.”
Stevos thought for a moment. “You were ordained in Woodsdock, as I recall?”
Teragdor nodded. “That is the closest temple. From here, it’s actually closer than Southpoint.”
“Indeed. Which is the logistical problem of using Church or Rod staffing.” Stevos grimaced. “Short of direct intercession, of course.”
Teragdor shook his head, not understanding.
“Well, I could certainly pop over there, commandeer some forces, and then do a gateway back here.” Stevos grinned, knowing that Teragdor understood how shocking and unprecedented that would be.
“That would cause more than a few heart attacks,” Teragdor agreed.
“And then the entire Church in Astlan would go to high alert and start asking a lot of questions we don’t want asked yet.”
“Yeah.” Teragdor shook his head, thinking of the chaos.
“Let’s head back to town and get some dinner,” Stevos said, heading towards their hobbled mounts.
Murgatroy
“I wish that djinni would get off his butt and leave the wards already!” Damien complained. “I am getting tired of being in this backwater.”
Vaselle looked at him and shrugged. "Well, now that the others are on their way home, there is no reason we have to stay here. We could go back to Mount Doom and wait there. It’s a lot more comfortable.”
Damien gave the warlock a look of disbelief. “Which stinky volcano were you in?” He shook his head. “Besides, given that none of them eat, there isn’t much food there except when they party.”
Vaselle grinned. “So then why don’t we go down and eat dinner in the common room rather than up in this little room?”
“And get spotted?” Damien shook his head.
“Zed said that the Nimbus was leaving
today, and I haven’t seen Hilda’s people around all day. I’m betting it is safe,” Vaselle argued.
Damien frowned, thinking. “I suppose.” He stood and gestured for Vaselle to precede him through the door.
The two made their way down to the main floor and over to the common room of the adjoining tavern. There were several diners at tables; none they knew, fortunately. The two sat down at one of the few smaller tables with only four chairs, and Damien made a motion to the tavern wench that they wanted food.
After a short and mostly silent wait, the tavern wench came by and looked at them silently, simply waiting for them to order something. Vaselle was not impressed by the service.
“What is on the menu for tonight?” Vaselle asked her.
“Braised yak rib with mashed turnips, mutton stew with bread, or the standard bread, cheese and sausage,” the wench replied disinterestedly.
Vaselle and Damien looked at each other and shrugged. “Yak rib and turnips and the dark ale,” Damien said. Because it was easy to take to the room, they’d eaten the cheese and sausage a couple times and it was at best, edible.
“Same for me,” Vaselle said.
“Swapped barrels. It’s a stout now, not a dark ale,” the wench replied.
“Fine,” Damien told her as Vaselle nodded. She turned away and headed back towards the bar.
“The people here are so hospitable,” Damien observed sarcastically.
“This place would be belly up in a quarter month in Freehold,” Vaselle agreed.
“Vaselle!” a voice said from the doorway to the inn.
Vaselle looked up, startled, to see Teragdor and a man somewhere between his own age and Damien’s entering the common room.
Damien shot Vaselle a glance, annoyed that they had been recognized.
“Teragdor!” Vaselle raised a hand in greeting, gesturing for the two men to approach. By their clothes, they appeared to have just finished a horse ride.
The two came over and Vaselle stood to shake hands with the priest. “Good to see you again!” Vaselle told him.
“And you!” Teragdor agreed with a rather intimidating smile.
“This is Stevos, who also serves Tiernon, albeit in a different capacity.” Vaselle reached out to shake Stevos’s hand.
“Let me introduce you to Damien,” Vaselle said, gesturing to Damien, who gave him a small glare. Vaselle suddenly realized he’d used Damien’s real name. They had not actually agreed on a fake name for him, but in hindsight, given that the wizard was hiding from others from Freehold, they should have.
Damien stood, smiling politely, and shook the hands of both men. Vaselle noted that as he stood, he had twisted his hands and moved his mouth ever so slightly to invoke his wizard sight.
The three exchanged greetings before all four sat down again. As they did so, the serving wench came back with two mugs of stout. After setting them down, she stared impassively at Teragdor and Stevos. Teragdor didn’t seem to notice her poor manners, but Stevos seemed slightly taken aback.
“What’s Thadwall tossing on the platters tonight, Darla?” Teragdor asked.
“Yak rib and turnips, mutton and bread or the sausage, cheese and bread platter,” Darla replied with marginally more enthusiasm towards Teragdor than she had shown to Vaselle.
“Oooh. Yak?” Teragdor nodded happily before glancing to Stevos. “The yak ribs are actually quite good. I’ve had them several times.” He grinned at Darla. “I’ll have those and the dark beer.” Darla nodded.
“Hmm, well then.” Stevos said with a smile. “I shall do the same.”
Darla shrugged and headed back towards the bar.
“She is lively,” Stevos noted.
Teragdor blinked and then smiled, realizing that Stevos was being ironic. “She’s just grumpy because Tessa, the other server who should be working tonight, gave birth two days ago and won’t be back to work until tomorrow. And of course, leading up to that, Darla had had to pick up some slack. So she is doing twice her normal work.”
“Ah.” Stevos nodded.
Damien was looking a bit wide-eyed at Teragdor. “The other serving maid gave birth two days ago and will be returning to work tomorrow?” The wizard sounded rather shocked, which Vaselle could understand.
Apparently Teragdor misinterpreted the shock. “Yes, I know, an unusually long time, but Thadwall’s the father, and the baby is a boy, so he’s feeling pretty generous.”
Stevos raised an eyebrow at this. Vaselle got the impression that the older man felt similar to Damien and himself in terms of how quickly the girl should be returning.
“So, as I understand it, you work for this Lord Edwyrd, Vaselle?” Stevos asked, making conversation.
“Yes, that’s true.” Vaselle nodded in agreement.
“As I understand it, Lord Edwyrd is hunting down demons that escaped from Freehold?” Stevos asked.
“Uhm, yes.” Vaselle nodded again. That was the story that Damien was using.
“He must be a very powerful animage if he is able to rein in demons,” Teragdor said. “As I understand it, summoning is quite dangerous compared to conjuring.”
“That is generally true,” Vaselle said. “Which is why wizardry is the preferred mechanism for dealing with demons. However, Lord Edwyrd does employ Rune Magic, which technically predates modern wizardry.” All true, Vaselle thought to himself, although, obviously, that was not how his master controlled demons.
Stevos sniffed a few times. “Speaking of demons, is that sulfur I smell?”
Damien grimaced. Vaselle suddenly realized they were still wearing the same clothes they’d been wearing at Mount Doom, where there was quite a bit of sulfur in the air.
“My apologies,” Damien said. “While Edwyrd is an animage, I am a conjuror and earlier today I’d been measuring out and packing small bags of sulfur for use in spellcraft.”
Stevos smiled politely. “Well, this is quite interesting for us. Given our line of work within the Church of Tiernon, we don’t often get to talk with those who work with demonic forces.”
Vaselle smiled tightly. He was fairly certain that was a slight rebuke. He knew full well that Etonian priests did not approve of conjury. Which was why he would have loved to bring up the High Priest Verigas, who had summoned his master. However, that would probably not be a good idea.
Damien smiled. “The same is true for us. I would say we have an excellent opportunity for stimulating conversation.”
Outside Freehold: DOA + 4, Late First Period
Arch-Diocate Iskerus woke with a start from a very unusual dream. Awake, he could not remember exactly what the dream had been about, other than that he had felt a far deeper and more intimate communion with his god than he had ever felt before. And yet, at the same time, his heart was racing in his chest as if he had experienced a massive adrenaline rush. It was not fear, however. It was more like exhilaration or excitement.
He shook his head; it was almost like an unthinkably powerful blessing spell. His ears suddenly detected quite a bit of commotion in the camp. It was the middle of night, yet the sound of the entire camp rising was filling his ears. He grimaced in puzzlement and pulled back the covers on his bed.
Getting out of bed, he quickly summoned a Globe of Holy Light and reached for his robe. He fastened it and made towards the door of his tent.
As he stepped outside, it was clear that much of the camp was up. Lights, both torches and Globes of Holy Light, were quickly coming on. He spotted one of his aides coming quickly towards him.
“Hewitt? What is going on?” The Arch-Diocate asked.
“I am not sure, Your Holiness; I have only talked with a few others,” Hewitt replied, hurrying up to him. “For myself, I was woken from my sleep feeling an overwhelming presence.” He frowned. “A presence that was at once comforting, yet frightening. It was clearly a religious experience, but unlike any I have ever had. I have overheard others saying the same.”
Iskerus shook his head in puzzlement. This was e
xtremely odd. His blood drained from his head. Was an Intercession imminent? They had been expecting one, but it had not occurred, and as time had passed so had the concern.
Suddenly there was a commotion over by the tent which held Talarius’s possessions. His actual tent had been destroyed by Ruiden’s metamorphosis, so they had moved the rest of his equipment to a new tent. Iskerus moved over to it; the guards that were stationed there to guard Excrathadorus Mortis and the other possessions seemed to be frantically searching the area, going in and out of the tent.
“What is the matter?” Iskerus demanded as he came up to the guards.
“My lord!” One of the guards came to attention, looking very pale. Iskerus nodded for her to continue. “Excrathadorus Mortis is missing!”
“Missing?” Iskerus asked incredulously.
The guard looked quite shaken. “We were standing guard when suddenly, and without warning, we were overwhelmed—”
“Overwhelmed?” Iskerus asked.
The woman looked at a loss. “Yes, we all suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of—Presence. I have no other word for it. All four of us swooned, nearly falling in place. When we recovered, others in the camp were also rousing. I went in to check on the locked-glass top case with the dagger in it.” She paused as if lost.
“And…?” Iskerus prodded.
“The case was there, undisturbed, completely locked, with your personal seal intact—yet the dagger was missing from inside!”
Iskerus shook his head in disbelief. The box had been locked; only he had the key. He had also placed his own seal on it to detect tampering; he’d then shielded it with a Holy Warding. He would have known if the warding had been broken. He had felt nothing.
“Let me see,” Iskerus said, moving around the guard towards the tent.
Iskerus entered the tent to see the fine wooden case with the glass-paneled lid sitting where he had last left it. He used his Holy Sight to check the wards. As the guard had said, the wards were in place, in no way disturbed. His seal was unbroken. Yet the silk cloth upon which the blade had rested within the box was empty. The dagger was gone.
Iskerus used every detection ritual he could think of, but he could not detect the normally obvious magical presence of the Holy Artifact. He frowned and dispelled his wards. He then removed the chain around his neck with the key to the lock, and unlocked the box. He opened the lid, cracking the seal. It had been absolutely intact. This made no sense. He reached in and felt around the box, removing the cloth. The dagger was very clearly not there!
