The Heavenly Host

Nothing was rattling on the top shelf, so she removed that. The lower layer was just a big open box filled with trinkets, totems, amulets, jewelry and talismans. She dug through them, moving in the direction of the vibration that was rattling all of the items. Her hand grasped something on the bottom; a lumpy round stone by the feel of it.

As she fully grasped it, what felt like electricity lanced through her body. It hurt, and this naturally ticked her off. She grunted in frustration and pulled the stupid rock out of the trunk, wanting to smash the thing. “Ffargdar Quetusqare Fardus,” Ragala-nargoloth muttered, causing the candles in her tent to light so she could more clearly see the offending object.

She squinted at it and snorted. It was the Talisman of Orcus! “What in the name of the Bloody Bilestone?” she asked herself aloud. “You’ve been dead for four thousand years! Not since the days of Tiss-Arog-Dal has anyone even talked about you!”

Ragala-nargoloth grabbed a fistful of Tikaraok powder as she moved to a meditation position. She quickly snorted the powder and centered herself, looking with her Sight into the talisman. “Bloody fragging Bilestone’s bones!” she shouted as she felt herself almost forcibly pulled into dream space.

Ragala-nargoloth blinked as the world shifted around her. Suddenly she found herself not in her tent but in some sort of stone temple between two columns. Instead of the small stone talisman, there was a bright silver talisman in her lap that she, or rather her dream self was clutching. Her head was reeling and she felt incredibly disoriented.

She looked around the room to see several very odd-looking orcs with wings and hooves. D’Orcs? They could not be; D’Orcs were long gone from the localverse. As she eyed the apparent impossibilities, she suddenly recognized one from a stone painting in one of the tribe’s holy sites.

“Arg-nargoloth?” Ragala-nargoloth breathed in disbelief. The greatest warrior in her family’s bloodline — the most revered of all her ancestors?

“Hah!” the vision of Arg-nargoloth roared in triumph. “My name lives on, my blood survives! Name yourself, shaman!”

“I — I am Ragala-nargoloth, First Shaman of the Nart Tribe,” she said in shock.

Arg-nargoloth nodded in obvious satisfaction. “When we have more time, you must recite your lineage to me so that I may know of my heirs and of their triumphs!” He was chuckling with nearly unbridled joy, it seemed.

Ragala-nargoloth noticed someone rising behind Arg-nargoloth. This someone was very large, and not a D’Orc. As the being moved into view, she saw a giant mace, a rod, a wand swinging at his belt. She felt her blood go cold, or was it hot? She had no idea. No one remembered what Orcus looked like, other than that he was different, not a D’Orc, and that he had possessed a giant mace, the Wand of Orcus. This mace, with its metal head that looked identical to the demon lord’s own head, could only be the Wand of Orcus.

Ragala-nargoloth quickly abased herself before the demon lord. “My Lord and master, as the prophecy of Tiss-Arog-Dal has foretold, you have returned!”

“Greetings, Ragala-nargoloth, heir to the blood of Arg-nargoloth. You are welcome in the Temple of Doom.” The demon lord pulled his mighty mace from his belt. “I am Tommus, the new Lord of Mount Doom, and I am preparing to accept the oaths of the D’Orcs. We have work to do, now and going forward. Are you willing to assist me?”

Ragala-nargoloth was in shock, which was not something she had ever experienced before. She actually thought “shock” was a weakness of non-orcs, but what she was feeling now could be nothing else. She nodded her head and whispered, “Yes, master.” She could not even look the mighty demon lord in the eye at this point.

“Are you ready to be bound to my service?” The mighty demon lord, heir to Orcus asked.

Ragala-nargoloth gulped. “I am, My Lord.”

The head of the mace moved towards her head. “Grasp the mace and prepare to repeat after me.”

Ragala-nargoloth tentatively raised her left hand and reached out towards the head of the mace and to her new future.

∼

^{DOF +7}

^{Second Period 16-04-440}

Tom checked the runes controlling night and day within the mountains. He had discovered they worked pretty well as a clock. It would be dawn before long. They had managed to contact three more shamans beyond Tal Gor and Ragala-nargoloth: Beya Fei Geist of the Olafa Horde of Ithgar, Farsooth GoreTusk of the Rockgut Horde on Romdan, and Leftenant Trig Bioblast of the Oak Clan and Second Shaman of the OCSS Skull Crusher in Gormegast.