“Getting around could be tricky,” Gaius observed. “One could never don plate armor in such a space.”
“Which is why they like to store all armor in their armory area, I suppose. There appeared to be room there to equip oneself,” Gadius said.
“Fortunately, that is not something we have to deal with.” Gaius smiled, allowing his obsidian-like chainmail to fade from sight, leaving him clad only in a tunic and pants.
“Indeed,” Gadius agreed, allowing his own pearlescent chainmail to similarly vanish. Officially, their armor and principal weapons were kept in Bags of Safekeeping; unofficially, they had other means of storing their armament.
“I am not sure what we are going to say if it turns out as Sera suggests and Bags of Safekeeping do not work in the Abyss,” Gaius said.
Gadius shrugged. “Well, we can always say that our mounts brought spare equipment.”
Gaius frowned. “Yes. While there is no question that our ‘mounts’ will be able to locate us as needed in the Abyss, or anywhere for that matter, this entire business and the close proximity of others is going to strain the limits of credulity in our stories.”
Gadius grinned. “We faced this before in training, remember?” He patted Gaius on the shoulder. “Our rank and independence as Knights Rampant has led to complacency. We are in need of sharpening our skills on this front.”
Gaius grimaced. “I agree; however, that does not assuage my anxiety.”
“Nor should it.” Gadius grinned broadly.
Arch-Vicar General Barabus stood silently beside Wing Arms Master Heron of Treage on the bridge of the Inferno, listening to the incredibly long-winded speech of Oorstemothian Chancellor of Law Dante Alighieri extolling the virtues of the Inferno and their mission to bring the Law (and hence “justice”) to the far realms of the multiverse; in particular, in this instance, the Abyss and the greater demon who had captured Talarius, Knight Rampant of Tiernon.
All Oorstemothians were long-winded, but Chancellor Alighieri seemed worse than most. Barabus was now certain of that after the last few days. It was actually possible to have an intelligent conversation with Wing Arms Master Heron. True, the conversations were quite formal compared to what he was used to, but still fairly efficient.
Barabus was very well aware of the Oorstemothians’ military prowess, but after the last several days of direct and intimate interaction with them, he was not sure how a commander would be able to issue an order before the enemy overran them.
The launch of the Inferno was one such example. This speech was now entering its second hour; the senior members of the expedition were all standing in the cramped bridge compartment, listening to the Chancellor ramble on ad nauseam.
“…and thus, my compatriots, with our carefully crafted concordance to create a completely cooperative campaign complete, we are ready to commence!” the chancellor finally finished.
A round of applause arose from those assembled. Barabus gave a grateful sigh of relief as he clapped.
“And thus forthwith, as I officially offer command of our versatile vessel to her new commanding officer, let me introduce our illustrious commander by providing a brief curriculum vitae of his qualifications before his inaugural address,” the chancellor continued. “Commander Cranshall was born in…”
Barabus groaned internally. What had he done to be trapped on this thing with these people?
Tom entered the Doom Command Center, where multiple D’Orcs were monitoring the various systems, and oddly enough, Tizzy was munching on what appeared to be a bagel with butter on top. Arg-nargoloth was the commander on duty.
“Is that a bagel?” Tom asked Tizzy.
Tizzy swallowed, moved the bagel up to eye level, and looked at it closely before replying, “Looks like it.”
“Where did you get a bagel?” Tom asked, more than a little curious.
“I had some extra ingredients left over from the cookies and I’d bought a few other things on the side as well,” Tizzy said with a shrug, “so I made some early this morning.”
Tom closed his eyes briefly in frustration. “If you made the bagel yourself, why did you have to examine it to know it was a bagel?”
Tizzy shrugged again. “I’m not that good of a cook, so you never know. I only know how to make bagels, pizza and cookies.” He paused for a moment. “Well, I can make brownies too, but I prefer cookies.”
Tom shook his head at this. “So you made bagels, and aren’t sharing?” He grinned at the demon, hoping Tizzy would take a hint and offer him a bagel.
“Well, I can’t make that many, don’t have enough ingredients.” Tizzy replied. “Plus they aren’t kosher, so you know…”
Tom frowned. “How do you know about kosher?”
Tizzy pulled his shoulders back and made a shocked expression. “What? You think there aren’t any Jewish demons? The kabbalah is full of them, or so I’m told. There are lots of Jewish demon conjurors, and demons, of course.” He took another bite.
Tom had to admit his point. There must be Christian demons and Muslim demons as well. He was just used to thinking in mythological terms when it came to gods and such. But considering that most demons came from regions around Earth, those demons would have to have been of religions on Earth.
Tom was suddenly struck by a rather chilling thought. He had met people that literally had been gods on Earth. He had met people who had been at Ragnarök. If all those mythological deities were real, was he going to run into Jesus? Or Moses as an avatar? He shook his head. Clearly he would not, since his god, or at least the one he had grown up with, was not so much a physical person, but an all-powerful entity. The mythological gods like the ones he’d met had always been known and seen as actual people who, while powerful, were not all-powerful and omniscient.
He shook his head; he didn’t have time to think about this now. He had some questions before they all headed down to the Oubliette for more training. “Arg-nargoloth?” he asked.
“Yes, Lord Tommus?” The D’Orc commander responded.
“Last night before going to bed, I noted that Doom’s mana pool reserves had fully recharged, thanks to the battle and all the mana it generated,” Tom began.
“I bet those Knights of Chaos were good for a serious charge up!” Tizzy interrupted.
“Uhm, yes, they were,” Tom agreed before continuing. “Anyway, I also noted that we had finally managed to reach breakeven on mana generation versus mana expense.” Which was pretty good, in Tom’s opinion.
“However, this morning I noticed we seem to be draining mana again and I’m curious if you can pinpoint what the new draw is?” Tom asked.
“Hmm.” Arg-nargoloth frowned. “Give me a minute.” The D’Orc walked over to the mana monitoring panels. He stared at them for a few moments, flipping switches to various displays before finally nodding and saying, “Found it.” He turned to Tom with a small grin and said, “Following our old powering policies, Doom began charging the first of the Doomalogues in the charging queue.”
“Yeah, that would make sense. Was wondering if they’d come back online automatically,” Tizzy said before eating the last of his bagel.
“What is a Doomalogue?” Tom asked cautiously. Here was another one of those things he probably really needed to know but did not.
“They are Doom Analogues,” Arg-nargoloth replied, sounding quite pleased.
“Doom Analogues?” Tom asked, not understanding.
“They are like satellite Mount Dooms; our primary outposts in the Planes of Orc,” The D’Orc answered.
“Little Temples of Doom scattered across the multiverse,” Tizzy added.