The Heavenly Host

“We are,” Vespa stated. Tal Gor could sense her pride in the statement. “We serve the Dark Lord Tommus; the prophesied heir to the throne of Orcus and the new Master of Mount Doom!” She gave the crowd a very pleased, yet still rather frightening grin. The three leaders shifted quite uncomfortably as the crowd in the wargtown started babbling excitedly behind them.

“Uhm, so what brings you to Murgatroy?” Meat Maker asked nervously.

Vespa smiled. “What else? We come to trade. We have business in town and need a place for our D’Wargs to rest while we are here.” She held her arms out wide. “On this, we are no different than anyone else here.” She gestured to the town.

The three leaders stared warily at the D’Wargs, who stood off to the side snorting, spitting and periodically expelling snot, as was their wont when idling. Much like wargs, actually, just a lot more so.

Tal Gor glanced at the D’Wargs, controlling a smile. He could not blame Meat Maker for his trepidation; the D’Wargs were a surly lot. If he had not spent the day hunting with them, he would have been nervous himself. Of course, the way the D’Wargs were eying the wargs in the town... well, it was quite unsettling, suggesting a sort of hunger, but given his knowledge of wargs, he was sure it was more of a mating hunger than physical hunger.

“So you want a pavilion for them to rest in?” Meat Maker asked uncertainly.

Virok shrugged. “That is a convenient way to arrange it. My guess is that the D’Wargs may want to take the measure of some of the wargs here.” He grinned, his eyes glowing deep red in his otherwise gray face. “Perhaps in a few months some of your other guests may end up with some mighty nasty pups.”

“We will leave the customary two handlers here to ensure that none of the wargs are accidentally killed or eaten by the D’Wargs,” Vespa said, producing two large silver coins. “Will this be sufficient to rent a pavilion until midafternoon?”

Meat Maker eyed the two large, very old coins. Suddenly he seemed to relax and get much friendlier. He nodded. “It will do; however, it does not cover glargh for your handlers. That is extra, paid at the bar.”

Vespa nodded.

∼

Sir Gadius and Peace Bringer solidified on the shore of the small island along the coast of Norelon, en route to Keeper’s City. Gadius pulled his helmet off, placing it under one arm as he moved to a large rock to rest. His iridescent chain mail rattled under his surcoat as he sat. Peace Bringer wandered over to a patch of tasty-looking grass and began munching.

Gadius chuckled. “I might join you,” he said. “I’m not hungry, nor I suppose are you; but at this point, after the last five hours traversing the aether, any semblance of normality would be welcome.” To outside observers, the unicorn would seem to be ignoring him; however, Gadius could feel his companion’s amusement at his desire for normalcy. Gadius had never like traveling through the aether. True, one never tired or got hungry; nor did one have to worry about landscape features, if one did not care to. He did not like running through mountains and hills, though. It was too unsettling. He preferred to go over such obstacles.

Sea travel was much better, unless the waves were really high; aethereally “splashing” through the waves, and sand dunes for that matter, was much less unpleasant than moving through solid stone.

He sighed. Officially, they were taking a break in the material world to relieve the otherness of the aether, but the two of them had spent days and nights traversing the aether when time was critical. One needed neither rest nor sleep in the aether. Time was important, but the arch-vicar general’s ships set the length of time for the journey, not the two of them. He had no desire to arrive in Keeper’s City before the fleet.

No, he had no fear of Keeper’s City; it was simply his distrust and distaste for the Oorstemothians. This proposed alliance did not sit well with him. However, their planned undertaking required resources that neither the Rod nor the church possessed. This Chancellor Alighieri claimed to have built the ideal tool to achieve their goal of rescuing Talarius.

It would be a long and difficult journey, if it even truly worked, but it was their solemn duty to try and rescue their brother knight. He could only imagine the horrors the good fellow must be enduring. With a cruel thought, Gadius suddenly wondered if Talarius had been reconnected with his doomed, damned ladylove, Melissance.

Sir Gadius shook his head at his own pettiness. Such a horrible thought was unworthy of him. Still, if they at least met up for a short while, maybe the knight would stop obsessing over the woman. It had been long enough ago at this point that Talarius’s continued dwelling on her had become more of a pathology than an emotional sentiment.