Apostles of Doom

“Oh hell, no!” Völund shook his head from side to side with a look of horror.

“I don’t think that is a battle that will be over any time soon, so we don’t need to worry about it,” Phaestus said to calm the smith.

“Speaking of prioritizing worries — are we going to stand around gawking or are we going to silence that stupid bell?” Arg-nargoloth asked.

Phaestus and Völund both nodded, looking rather abashed. They headed to another door to the right of where they had entered, similar to the one they’d just come through. Phaestus gestured for Tom to open the door as before. Tom complied, and the door hissed open with the smell of stale air.

The all piled into a forty-foot-square room which was lined with all sorts of gothic cyberpunk equipment, again very reminiscent of H. R. Giger. Actually, he thought, it was sort of a cross between the Command Center, the Tech Command Center, and a Giger alien spaceship. Tom used his demon sight to make sure there were no creepy acid-dripping Xenomorphs hanging out in the room.

Phaestus waved his hand over a panel near the door, causing the monitors in the room to flicker to life. Tom felt a vibration from the Rod alerting him to the activation of the “Tartarus Processing and Control Center.” It was odd how that name just came to his mind.

Völund, Phaestus, Darg-Krallnom, Arg-nargoloth, Roth Tar Gorefest, Delg Narmoloth and Helga Dourtooth all took what Tom assumed were preassigned console positions — all were first generation commanders. Zog Darthelm, his favorite Sith lord D’Orc, also took a seat.

Zog was unusual; he was both first and second generation. His father was a D’Orc, which would make him second generation, but he had been born before his father had ascended (or descended as the case was), and Zog later came to fame and also ascended. It had been confusing at first; mainly because of the way he’d introduced himself. However, Tom got the story while they were reliving the battle with the Knights of Chaos.

The rest of the commanders simply stood around rather awkwardly, since D’Orcs were not known to just stand there when things were happening. Of course, Tom was also “just standing there,” but he was trying to follow through the Rod what his people were doing on the consoles.

“I am mighty glad you showed up, Lord Tommus!” Roth Tar Gorefest stated as his hands manipulated controls on his console. “Nothing remotely interesting, other than Darflow, of course”—he nodded to his former enemy—“has happened here for thousands of years. You show up and we get a feast, Knights of Chaos, Darflow and his crew, and now the potential for a Titan to escape and destroy a couple worlds before we can defeat it and recapture it.”

Several other D’Orcs hooted in shared appreciation.

Tom just shook his head. A downward spiral into insanity, indeed.

Murgatroy

Vaselle made his way down to the tavern attached to the inn. It was quite late, Damien was asleep, yet slumber eluded the warlock. He was simply too excited by the ongoing events. Things were going incredibly well. He and his master were getting along quite well, and they were all now hard at work on the master’s plan to conquer the multiverse. Or at least, he thought that was the plan. The orcs and D’Orcs pretty much assumed that was the plan. His master, however, seemed oddly vague on the point. Vaselle could not really “feel” or “see” any thoughts from his master in this regard.

True, the master wanted to restore the former glory and freedom of the orcs; that was his new purpose. However, despite that, Vaselle was not getting a strong world domination vibe off the master, let alone a multiversal domination vibe. Of course, defeating Lilith was going to be a clear priority, and then, who knew? Perhaps the master would settle for being a Cofactor of the Abyss.

From what both the D’Orcs and the new demon recruits had said, it wasn’t like the current Cofactors ever slept together. They could barely stand to be in the same room with each other, let alone the same bed. So that shouldn’t be an issue. But was it? Did demons have sexual preferences? From his studies, he knew they were quite indiscriminate in their raping. Vaselle was sure no self-respecting demon would ever let the gender of their victim influence or abend the planned physical, sexual, mental and spiritual degradation and demise of their subject. That would be extremely unprofessional. Plus, he was pretty sure Boggy had confirmed this fact in one of his drunken stories.

Vaselle smiled to himself, thinking of the good times he’d been having at Mount Doom. To be truly part of a united team, working at a common goal. The comraderie around the campfire, like the previous evening when Edwyrd had returned after the battle. They had all eaten dinner together — everyone, including Gastropé, and Tom had shown them the balling of the battle.