The Heavenly Host

“Yes, you know — a mud golem.”

Tom shook his head. “No I don’t know. You are saying there is a mud golem down near your kitchen that wants to talk to me?” Tom looked at him askance. “Did you get too close to your oven’s fires? You are not making much sense.”

“It said that the shamans had promised to bring you to see it after you finished the oath taking.”

“Uh, well, I have not seen them yet. I was going to meet with Zelda and then join them at the party,” Tom said.

“Okay. Hate to think they were not keeping their promise to the mud golem.”

Tom shook his head. Just when he thought the crazy was over for the day. “So do I need to talk to this mud golem?” He was tired, yet there was still a lot of work to do. He did not really have time for Tizzy’s insanity.

“Yeah, I said I’d come get you. I’m not going to break a promise to a mud golem,” Tizzy replied.

Tom tried to rub the bridge of his nose without gouging out his eyes with his claws. He sighed and shook his head. “Okay, lead on!”

Tizzy led him down the ramp to another level and then down a second corridor a short distance to another ramp down. They went down that ramp and headed toward what Tom recognized as the kitchen Tizzy and his demons were using. They turned and went down a side corridor a short ways until encountering an alcove with mud oozing out onto the corridor floor.

“Here we go.” Tizzy gestured to what appeared to a mud statue of some sort of humanoid. The mud statue raised its right hand in a sort of wave greeting.

“Ahm puhleshed doe mheat u, Lorhd Dommush,” the mud golem said.

Tom blinked. “I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand...?”

The mud golem twisted its neck head towards Tizzy.

“Oh, sorry, I’ll translate,” said Tizzy. “It’s speaking universal, but mud golems are not the best at pronouncing human words.” He tilted his head. “Although they are much better at it than Denubians.” The mud golem bobbed its neck/head up and down in agreement.

“So what did it say?”

“Oh, right. It said, ‘I am pleased to meet you, Lord Tommus.’ ” Tizzy said.

“Can it understand me?” Tom asked. The mud golem nodded. Tom smiled. “Pleased to meet you... mud golem.” Tom was not sure if mud golems had names.

“Whahaw. Mah nahmeesh dahmahreen,” the mud golem said.

Tom glanced to Tizzy. Tizzy jumped. “Sorry, forgot. The mud golem laughed and said its name is Tamareen. Or is it Tamarin?” Tizzy asked the mud golem.

“Dahmahrine,” the mud golem said.

“Tamarin, but pronouncing the ‘i’ more like a sort of ‘ee’ sound,” Tizzy said.

“So, Tamarin... It is a pleasure to meet you. How can I help you?” Tom had no idea why a mud golem would want to talk with him, or... never mind. Tom reminded himself that asking too many questions just led to too many more.

“Wa wahn rhe-estahbish rehlaahshons wihdh Doohm.”

“They want to re-establish relations with Mount Doom,” Tizzy said.

The mud golem, Tamarin, nodded its neck/head.

“Okay, so mud golems had relations with Mount Doom in the old days and they want to re-establish them?” Tom supposed that made some sense. Most of Doom was underground, and now that it was raining, there was mud.

“Whahahw whahaw,” the mud demon laughed, and Tizzy joined it.

“Okay, what’s so funny?” Tom asked.

Tizzy shook his head. “You, that’s pretty funny! Wanting to establish relationships with mud golems!”

“It just asked to do that! What’s so funny?” Tom asked, annoyed.

“Mud golems are golems! They are automatons; robots would be the Earth equivalent. They are not sentient in and of themselves!” Tizzy said, still laughing.

“So the owner of the mud golem wants to re-establish relations?” Tom asked.

“Well, no,” Tizzy said hesitantly, looking at the mud golem. “I assume that Tamarin is asking to re-establish relations with Mount Doom on behalf of hir people?” Tamarin nodded its neck/head.

“Tamarin’s people?” Tom nodded, feeling they were getting somewhere finally.

“And who are Tamarin’s people?” Tom asked.

Tizzy gave Tom a look like Tom was crazy. “Why the djinn, of course. I figured you knew that!” Tamarin nodded affirmatively.

“Djinn?” Tom shook his head. “You mean like genies?”

Tizzy twisted his lips a bit. “That is not their favorite term, but that is basically the common phrase for their race.”

Tom shook his head. “So the race of genies — I’m sorry, djinn — want to have diplomatic relations with Mount Doom?”

“I think we’ve been making that pretty clear.” Tizzy looked to Tamarin, who nodded.

“And the djinn had diplomatic relations with Orcus?” Tom asked.

“Indeed, although you do not want to use the word ‘diplomatic’; that will cause a lot of problems. Think of it as a long and mutually beneficial partnership.” Tizzy nodded, as did Tamarin.

“So, this is a good idea?” Tom asked Tizzy.

Tizzy shook his head. “Of course it is! No one in hir right mind would toss a bottle back in the sea or re-bury a lamp in the sand. That would be stupid. If the djinn want to do business with you, you take them up on it!”

Tom closed his eyes for a moment. “Okay, so what do we need to do to establish these relations?”