The Heavenly Host

Tom had had so much to do, that he’d had little time to talk to Tamarin, just the time he could make between various stops on his rounds. She seemed fine with this, though, and said they could speak in more detail later. Her principal objective of anchoring had now been achieved.

Tom tried to focus on the music. The Doom Metal was pretty cool. He hoped that they were just rusty with their instruments and were not actually trying to get such an extreme, hard-core industrial sound. He supposed x-glargh would make the hard banging, clanking and shrill strings sound better. However, he would work at enjoying it sober, or as sober as possible. The D’Orcs were enjoying it, anyway, and that was what was important.

There was a clashing and banging off to his right. He looked; it was Reggie and Phaestus trying to get down a stairway out of the dining room. How had the two of them gotten so drunk so quickly? Tom wondered. Everyone was drinking now, but the pair must have started early. He shook his head in amusement. He looked for Rupert and Fer-Rog, hoping they were not drinking. He had no idea what the drinking age was in the Abyss. It probably did not come up that often, as almost everyone besides him and Rupert were vastly older than twenty-one. But ten-year-olds should not be drinking. Although, to be fair, at first Tom had planned on drinking even though he was under age, but then he had started worrying about an attack and decided to go light on the x-based beverages. He would do a few over the night, but he would try to stick to the non-x stuff. He had never had a hangover and this did not seem like a good time to start.

After a few moments, he spotted Rupert and Fer-Rog sitting over in a corner, talking and laughing. They did not appear to have any beverages with them. They were safely munching on a giant plate of cookies. Tom smiled, thinking about the fun they were probably having. When he had been ten, he and his only friend used to like to pig out on Oreos. At least Rupert might be able to have a minimally normal childhood here.

Thinking about childhood and drinking, Tom suddenly counted on his fingers. He was not really sure how long he’d been a demon. Those long periods sitting in his cave had been rather a blur, but it had to be getting close to his seventeenth birthday. When he had died, it had been less than seven weeks until his birthday. He chuckled, shaking his head. Getting his own Doompire for a birthday present was pretty cool. If only he had a candle, he could stick it in a cookie and light it.

“I think things are going well, My Lord!” Zelda yelled from her seat to his left. The song the band was playing was particularly loud at the moment.

“You did a great job, Zelda!” Tom smiled at her.

“Thank you, My Lord. I am so honored to have been able to arrange this celebration!” She grinned.

Tom reached into the Rod of Tommus to check system power levels. Things were charging quite well now, better than before. He needed to get this place self-sustaining. It was getting exhausting to feed it and deal with everything. He guessed it was a good tired, but if he stopped to think too much, he would have to curl up in a ball. He was riding a tiger at the moment; he had to hang on tight.

∼

“What are you doing?” Farsooth GoreTusk asked Beya Fei Geist and Ragala-nargoloth as they stood at the buffet; they appeared to be trying to stuff cookies into their belt sacks.

“Have you tried these cookies?” Beya asked, looking up and back at him.

“No, why?”

“Try one!” Raga-nargoloth shoved one in his mouth. She clamped her hand over his mouth. “Don’t let any of the crumbs fall out; you will want every one of them.”

Farsooth chewed on the cookie, swallowed a few times and licked the crumbs from his teeth. When he could speak, he asked, “Why did you do that?”

“How did you like the cookie?” Beya asked.

Farsooth shrugged. “Fine, I guess; I am not big on sweets.”

Ragala-nargoloth shook her head as if she was talking to an idiot. “Did you notice nothing interesting? The flavor of the cookie?”

Farsooth sucked on a few more crumbs from between his teeth. “Oatmeal. Hmm. There is a slightly odd taste to it. Is it the butter? Odd butter.”

Beya closed her eyes and shook her head. “Yes, it is odd butter. Do you not recognize the taste? If not, you will after a few deminutes.”

Farsooth shook his head, puzzled, and then his eyes went wide. “Is that the taste of — ”

“Demon weed!” Ragala-nargoloth blurted loudly but quickly quieted down. “It’s got demon weed in it!”

“Who the hell wastes demon weed in a cookie?” Farsooth asked incredulously. “You do that and everyone will start spirit walking. We don’t need half the party out on the astral plane!”

“I think demons have a different sense of humor than orcs,” Beya shook her head.

“So what are you doing?” Farsooth asked again.

“We are stocking up to take some home with us. I don’t know about Romdan, but in Ithgar and Etterdam, this stuff is extremely hard to get.”