The Heavenly Host

Tom sighed, feeling depressed. He hoped he was not building up false hope. He suddenly realized he wanted to help the D’Orcs, a lot. They had welcomed him unlike any other group in the Abyss or Astlan, and they needed help. He could almost feel their suffering and pain. Of course, they were D’Orcs and they had been part of an Army of Evil for Orcus, which was probably not that pleasant of a thing. He should not be under any illusions as to who they were. He was familiar with the tales of orcs and Orcus.

Of course, he was also familiar with tales of demons. Before becoming a demon himself, he had believed many of the same things as the Astlanians. Now, with the orcs and D’Orcs, he was seeing them as real people, not the monsters of fairy tales and fantasy novels. Could the stories of orcs and D’Orcs be every bit as much bullshit as the stories of demons? Why not? The victors, not the losers, wrote history.

Could all those fantasy tales be some sort of elvish or alvaren propaganda? Was there a dark side to pipe-smoking wizards with big hats and large-footed, short friends? He needed to keep an open mind. He realized he had been quiet for some time as they walked; he should get back on topic.

“So how many bedrooms per suite?” Tom asked.

“Most have two, and some have three.”

“Actually, that is something I am curious about. I note that these suites have bedrooms, and the barracks have beds, even though demons don’t generally need to sleep,” Tom noted.

Zelda smiled. “Well, beds are useful to make babies.”

Tom grinned. “In that case, I guess you guys are working pretty hard.”

Zelda chuckled. “But you are correct; D’Orcs need sleep no more than any demon. However, my understanding — and we should be verifying this shortly now that you’ve returned — is that the Mount’s mana generation and accumulation competes with a demon’s or D’Orc’s ability to collect mana.”

Tom nodded, thinking. “So by sleeping, D’Orcs can conserve mana and replenish easier.”

“Exactly! While operating, the Mount creates a lot of mana, but it sucks a lot of it right back up to power itself and charge its mana pools. That means the ambient levels for demons and D’Orcs to replenish from is lower.”

“So you sleep more.” Tom nodded.

“Yes. Of course, the Mount has been dormant for thousands of years, so we didn’t need to sleep as much,” Zelda added.

Tom chuckled. “But you did need babies.”

Zelda grinned. “Indeed we did. But also because... well, to be honest, many of the elders were filled with despair and sorrow. This caused them to sleep more, and sometimes worse.”

Tom shuddered, thinking about the depressed D’Orcs. “And I suppose x-glargh hasn’t been particularly available?”

Zelda nodded. “We have the wealth of the Mount, but that’s most valuable on the Planes of Orcs, which we’ve had no way to access.”

“Are there not any shaman D’Orcs?” Tom asked as they approached his suite.

“I am told there were, but the majority was with your prior self and perished. The shamans here were the front line in repelling Lilith and her forces after the treachery. We lost all but a handful at that time. About two thousand years ago, we lost the last of our shamans to attrition and despair.” Zelda sighed. “We are so sorry, lord, for failing you. For not trusting your prophecy and believing.” She sounded truly heartbroken.

“Do not be sorry. You have been hardened by these trials. You are the survivors, the strongest of the strong, and you have bravely carried on. There is nothing to be sorry for.” Tom rested his hand on her shoulder for a moment before turning to open the door to his suite.

“Thank you, lord,” Zelda said as he turned.

In the room were Rupert and Fer-Rog. It looked and sounded like Rupert was teaching Fer-Rog a card game. The room was otherwise empty, and the other doors off the suite were open.

“Where is everyone?” Tom asked.

Fer-Rog looked up and grinned at his mother.

Rupert moved a card and then grinned at Tom. “Reggie, Tizzy, Boggy and Talarius all found large sacks and headed back to the gem caverns to gather our gem piles.”

“Antefalken is wandering the halls, exploring I guess,” Fer-Rog said.

“Do they know how to make their way back through the tunnels?” Tom asked Rupert.

Rupert shook his head. “No, they flew up and out of the volcano. They plan to go back in from the entrance.”

“Good enough,” Tom said. “If you see Antefalken, tell him that I need to push back my visit to Damien until the evening. I’m going to be busy with hauling game back to the kitchens today.”

“Mother, when can I go hunting?” Fer-Rog asked excitedly.

“We’ll see. There is a long line of hunters with seniority who want to go first,” Zelda told her son.

“I want to go too!” Rupert said.