The Heavenly Host

“What type of music is that?” Tom had a feeling about where this was going.

“Well, given this is Mount Doom and most of their instruments have metal strings, their favorite type of music is called Doom Metal, but they also like all sorts of D’Orc rock. Anything that lets them really go to town on these metal stringed instruments. We get some of it at the Courts. I am not personally a huge fan, but I know a lot of demons who are. Of course, we do not call it D’Orc rock in the Courts, but I expect that it is similar. ”

Tom laughed. “Well, this should be more exciting that I’d expected! Sounds like we’ll be doing some serious head banging!”

“We may all want to, after two thousand orcs all line up to personally swear to you. I’m figuring that’s going to take a day or two,” Antefalken said.

“Yeah, that’s something I need to discuss with Zelda,” Tom said. “I am thinking we do it by commander. That way they all see their immediate comrades swear, but they don’t all have to be in the throne room the entire time if they don’t want to be. I am thinking some would get restless standing for a day or more at a time.”

Antefalken nodded. “I haven’t had any real experience with D’Orcs until now, but assuming they are like orcs, huge amounts of patience and just standing around is not their thing.”

“My thinking exactly,” Tom agreed as he stood. “I need to head down to open the gate to Ithgar. Beya Fei is awaiting us with the Olafa Horde.”

“Ithgar? Isn’t that a ways out there? It’s not in the Astlan localverse, is it?” Antefalken asked.

“It is not. Apparently the rules of magic are a bit different, but nothing too significant to cause problems. Frigda is one of our most experienced commanders and she is from there. We’re going to Romdan a bit later this morning once we clear the staging area, and that is in the localverse.” Tom told him.

“I spent a few years there with a master early in my career. I liked the place just fine.”

“The more interesting one that I want to see is Gormegast,” Tom said. “I am thinking about a visit this afternoon.”

“It’s a high-tech plane, as I recall,” Antefalken noted.

“Exactly.”

“I had a friend who was stuck chained to a mech for about a century there.” Antefalken shook his head. “Is this the Antilles Cluster where Zog Darthelm is from?”

“It is, interestingly. Given the vastness of space, I find that odd. Of course, I find it odd that on the magic planes we always seem to end up on the same planet. Why don’t some gateways open up to other planets in a particular universe?” Tom mused.

“How do we know that they don’t?” Antefalken asked.

Tom looked at him, puzzled.

“Well, what if the planes that we call ‘the localverse’ all observe the same rules of magic because they are other planets in the same universe? If they are on opposite sides of the galaxy, or different galaxies, we couldn’t even tell by the position of the stars,” Antefalken said.

Tom shook his head. “My head is spinning. The multiverse is huge — an infinite number of infinitely large universes with galaxies and stars!”

“Yeah, I try not to think about it. The nice thing is that with no night in the Abyss, we don’t have to stare up at the night sky and think about such things,” Antefalken replied.

∼

Shortly before midday, Tal Gor and his compatriots landed about a thousand feet from the southwest outskirts of Murgatroy’s wargtown. With luck, the D’Wargs would get along with the wargs. Wargs from different tribes were often prickly around each other. D’Wargs and wargs would probably be even worse. With wargs, the promise of food and water, along with finishing a long journey, was usually enough to take the edge off. However, D’Wargs did not need to eat, drink or sleep, and really did not seem to get worn out.

In any event, Tal Gor would be glad to get off Schwarzenfürze. They had stopped at dawn to relieve their cramped legs, cramped bladders and cramped intestines. The orcs also ate trail bread and refreshed their water pouches from a nearby stream. The bread, water and walking around had helped clear their heads of glarghvost. Not completely, but it made the morning journey much more pleasant.

As to be expected, the D’Orcs spent most of the journey ribbing the orcs about their pathetic constitutions and being unable to hold their glargh. They liked to come up behind you and slap you hard on the back while screaming a loud greeting in your ear. Further, they also took great joy in discussing the most disgusting foods they had ever eaten, trying to make the glarghvost-suffering orcs toss their stomachs.