“My porridge!” Toth Bagg the cook screamed in concern.
The flames continued up and up, overflowing the rocks of the fire pit. The fire was now roaring far louder than should have been possible for the amount of wood present. It was bigger than the largest bonfire Tal Gor had ever seen. Suddenly, the middle of the flames seemed to tear, ripping open into another reality. There was a giant, one-sided hole in the flames! Nearby orcs scrambled to peer into the tear in reality.
Through the hole, one could see what looked to be a large staging area, crowded with a very odd assortment of large, winged orcs with supersized tusks and hooves. There were also what looked like a bunch of huge wargs, also with wings and tusk-like fangs.
Suddenly the large head of Lord Tommus popped through the hole from one side, and then his entire huge body stepped through into the camp. He grinned down at Tal Gor, or at least Tal Gor hoped it was a grin. “Thank you, shaman.” He surveyed the band and the camp, his eyes narrowing slightly, most likely at the rather sorry sight the band presented.
“I am Tommus, Master of Mount Doom,” Tommus announced in his booming voice. Tal Gor had to clench himself; the demon lord was far more terrifying in person than he had been in his dreams. “Mount Doom is preparing for a feast and our hunters need to hunt in the Planes of Orcs once more.” He looked around to the various warriors of the band. “In exchange for the assistance of your shaman” — he gestured to Tal Gor — “we invite twenty of your tribe to hunt with us.” He looked around, obviously noting that none of the tribe were geared for hunting yet. Tal Gor hung his head at his failure.
Suddenly there was movement at the hole as a woman stepped through into the camp. Tal Gor had to blink. Wow! he thought to himself. She had to be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Okay, so she had wings and hooves, but was she ever gorgeous! Tal Gor looked around and noted that he was not the only man in the camp staring at her. He had heard humans call certain women breathtaking, all orcs had, but this had to be the first time he had ever seen a woman who could literally be said to take one’s breath away.
“Allow me to introduce my commander, Vespa Crooked Stick,” Lord Tommus said.
Crooked Stick? Tal Gor felt his heart thud. This incredible D’Orc woman was blood? How had Crooked Stick blood ever created something like this? He could see several other men shaking their heads with the same thought.
“Shut your gaping holes, morons!” Vespa yelled to the men of the camp whose mouths were open. “You look like you’ve never seen a woman before!” She scowled in disapproval. “I could have gutted each and every one of you vermin by this point.” Tal Gor noted several warriors uncomfortably adjusting their loincloths or pants, depending on what they were wearing.
“Now, I see none of you so-called warriors is ready to hunt.” She shook her head. “Understand this: you are of my tribe. If you ever ignore the instructions of Lord Tommus’s shaman again, you will answer to me. Is that clear?” Several of the warriors nodded; others mumbled acknowledgements.
“I can’t hear you, worms! I asked you a question; I expect an answer. Fail me again, and I will beat you into a coma that will last a quarter month!” Vespa snarled.
The band members answered affirmatively this time with “yes, ma’am,” “yes, Commander,” and other similar verbal responses, many of them quite enthusiastically. Tal Gor had to admit, this woman was an old-style leader, and her charisma and leadership style clearly matched her beauty.
Vespa nodded and glanced to Lord Tommus, who nodded approvingly. Commander Vespa gestured towards the hole for others to come through, and suddenly people had to scramble to make room for the large D’Orc warriors decked out in their hunting gear to come through the inter-dimensional gateway in the middle of their cooking fire.
Tal Gor counted twenty D’Orcs of various ages and bloodlines, some of which he had never seen before. The two tall, thinner, pale white orcs with red eyes were particularly unusual.
“This is Virok Soul Wrecker of Erdnalia III on the Visteroth plane. He is our huntmaster today.” Vespa gestured to the older of the two tall, pale orcs. “In matters of the hunt, his word is my word and law. Do you understand?” She glared at the Crooked Stick orcs.
“Yes, ma’am,” or some variant was heard from each member of the tribe.
“As I’m sure you are aware, Tal Gor shall be selecting twenty of you to join us on this hunt.” Vespa grinned. “I’m sure many of you will be regretting your failure to trust his word earlier. Try not to sob too hard at losing out on what will certainly be the most glorious event in all of your lives to date. If you aren’t chosen, that means you’ll just need to prove your worth to our shaman before we return to hunt here again!”
Tal Gor tried to suppress a joyous grin and look properly annoyed. This was clearly the best day of his life; he certainly did not want to show it!
Chapter 103
Talarius woke with a start. What time is it? he wondered. It was dark in the room, of course; there was no window and he had been lighting the room with his armor, which had gone out once he fell asleep. He willed the armor to light and began to get dressed. It was somewhat disturbing to note that his padding was completely dry. The air in the room was a bit dry, at least compared to the rest of the mountain complex since the rain had started. It was not, however, dry enough that his under-padding should have dried out within a few minutes.
Talarius walked over and dragged the giant wardrobe away from the door as soon as he was girded with his various vestments, armor, weapons and accouterments. Even with the strength boost he got from his gauntlets, the dresser was heavy; the very reason he’d used it to block the door. He opened the door and walked out into the main room to see daylight streaming through the balcony doors. The octopod and Boggy were playing some card game, Antefalken was perched on a chair back, oiling his harp, and the other demons were off somewhere.
“Well, if it isn’t sleeping beauty?” Tizzy asked or perhaps stated, grinning maliciously at Talarius.
Talarius glared at the demon through his helmet. Apparently, the demon somehow knew he had fallen asleep without his armor and was intent on irritating him.
“Where is everyone?” Talarius asked, ignoring the demon’s jibe.
Boggy looked up. “Rupert is off with Fer-Rog somewhere; Tom is with his commanders arranging hunts for the feast; and Reggie and Estrebrius are still in Astlan as far as I know.” By coincidence, even as Boggy spoke, Reggie materialized in the room, sighing and quickly sitting down.
“Rough night?” Tizzy’s eyebrows were making those obscene leering motions again. Talarius found this exceedingly discomforting. Not that there was anything particularly comforting about the vile multi-pod; however, this was even more disquieting than his usual behavior.
Reggie closed his eyes. “Yes, more dream sex training. I am not enjoying it.”
Tizzy shook his head as if not understanding. “Kids today! In my day, it was all sex, drugs and rock and roll! What has become of this new generation?”
Reggie glared at him. “You are a twenty-plus-thousand-year-old demon. How do you even know about rock and roll?”
“I used to party with Keith Richards every time he came to the astral plane, which was quite often,” Tizzy said.
Reggie shook his head, clearly not sure who that was; Talarius certainly had no idea.
“What I want to know,” Boggy interrupted, “is how do these wizards know how to train an incubus? Doesn’t that seem a bit odd?”
Antefalken looked up. “A bit; however, it’s not impossible. Wizards and animages have employed both incubi and succubi for centuries. While I am sure it is not taught in any normal schools, the knowledge is probably out there.”