“Outposts? You mean like fortresses?” Tom asked.
“Exactly like fortresses, and temples,” The D’Orc commander agreed.
“Temples?” Tom shook his head and Arg-nargoloth shrugged.
“Temples to Orcus,” the D’Orc said matter-of-factly. “People would come to ask for assistance in battle, advice, dispute resolution and often bring tribute to celebrate victory or give thanks—”
“So really like a god’s temple?” Tom asked.
“Temple?” Völund asked, entering the DCC to join them on the way to the Oubliette.
“The Doomalogues are starting to power up,” Arg-nargoloth told the smith, who nodded in understanding.
“No, not like a temple to a god. Far more useful,” Völund told Tom.
“How so?” Tom asked.
“The temples were manned by senior D’Orcs who could provide both advice and assistance,” Völund said.
“Exactly! Hard-earned, tested battle experience and clear understanding of both tactics and strategy. And if warranted, they could even provide D’Orc or D’Warg assistance in battles,” Arg-nargoloth told Tom. “They would also arbitrate disputes among tribes and hordes, and most importantly from our point of view, coordinate orc activity on various planes. In particular, the temples were key in arranging and managing transport between the worlds.”
“Those negotiations could take forever,” Darg-Krallnom said, entering the DCC before training. “Obviously there would have to be compensation arrangements for loss of warriors on other planes or even within the same plane when forces needed to unite.”
“Interesting,” Tom said, intrigued. This answered a lot about how Orcus had maintained a multidimensional empire. “So the Doomalogues were basically embassies.”
There was a sudden indrawing of breath from everyone in the room, and a few curses. Tom found everyone staring at him in shock. He looked questioningly to Arg-nargoloth. “What did I say?”
“You said ‘embassy,’ my lord,” Arg-nargoloth said softly.
“And what is wrong with an embassy?” Tom asked.
Darg-Krallnom made the face of someone with something terribly unpleasant in his mouth. “Embassies are where diplomats live.” The D’Orc pronounced the word “diplomat” with a level of distaste beyond anything Tom had ever heard. “There are very few greater insults to an orc, or D’Orc, than calling them a diplomat.”
“What about ‘lawyer’?” Tizzy asked.
Arg-nargoloth’s fist suddenly shot out and punched Tizzy in the side of the head, sending the demon reeling. “You know I don’t like that word, pest.”
After stumbling and trying to recover his balance, the octopod grinned wickedly at the D’Orc and said, “Of course I do, that’s why I said it!”
“I’m sorry. In no way did I intend to insult anyone, nor disrespect them. I was just trying to process the functionality of these temples. I meant no insult,” Tom said apologetically.
“You are the Lord of Doom. You cannot insult us; your word is law. However, we are still sensitive to certain words and phrases,” Darg-Krallnom told Tom.
Tom frowned. “Again, my apologies for the poor word choice.”
Darg-Krallnom shook his head. “No need, my lord. It is our issue, and we realize that you did not understand what you were implying. We understand and it shall go no further than this room.” He glared at everyone in the room.
“So, which Doomalogue is powering up first?” Tom asked, trying to change the subject.
Arg-nargoloth nodded and gave a tight grin before turning to look at the panels behind him. “Nysegard should be the first.” He nodded after looking. “And it is.”
“Why Nysegard?” Tom asked.
“Because that was one of the largest Doomalogues and busiest. That place is nasteeeeee…” Tizzy said.
“Nasty?” Tom asked, even as he saw the others nodding. What would demons and D’Orcs consider nasty?
“Indeed, my lord. It has one of the highest populations of Unlife in the multiverse. Necromancers, liches and about any form of Unlife that you can imagine,” Arg-nargoloth answered.
“So why visit it?” Tom asked.
“Because there are orcs there, and other of our allies. We provided protection to our allies there. All sorts of jötunnkind, as well as humans, dwarves and many others,” Arg-nargoloth said.
“Even a few Dok Sidhe races,” Völund added.
“Humans, dwarves, Dok Sidhe?” Tom asked, puzzled. “Okay, so I might get the Dok Sidhe.” Tom recognized the term for the dark fairy kingdom from his reading. “But I did not know that dwarves and humans were normally aligned with orcs.”
Darg-Krallnom shook his head in disagreement. “Dwarves are jötunnkind; they may often be estranged from us, tempted away by the cursed alfar, but they are kin. And humans? Humans are neutral; they are also rather unscrupulous and will side with whoever they think best serves their interests.”
“Not that different from orcs,” Tizzy noted.
Arg-nargoloth waved his fist at the octopod, threatening another punch.
“In any event, things in Nysegard are, or were, complex,” Arg-nargoloth said. “There are different factions on different continents, all arrayed against the Unlife, all trying to survive. The alfar have their alliances, which includes some humans and dwarves as well as heartheans and gnomes, and we have ours. There is not a lot of warfare between orcs and alfar on Nysegard. Certainly there is no trust, but there are bigger enemies to deal with.”
“So how many of these Doomalogues are there?” Tom asked.
“At the time of the incident, there were six hundred and sixty-six,” Darg-Krallnom said.
“Six hundred and sixty-six?” Tom asked rather incredulously.
“Yeah, I know,” Tizzy commented. “Not a prime number, and thus not ideal. Six hundred and seventy-three were actually built, which is a prime number, but we lost a few.”
Völund made a rude noise and Tom looked at him.
“That cursed necromancer!” the smith said out the side of his mouth. Clearly, the man was holding a grudge.
“Necromancer? Is this tied to Nysegard?” Tom asked.
Arg-nargoloth shook his head. “No. Not at all, actually. Some of the Doomalogues were subverted and essentially stolen by a wizard we thought was an ally, but turned out to be a necromancer. Or rather, that is what he was calling himself in some realms. We eventually realized he wasn’t even a mortal — he, or she, was a corrupted arvokar.”
“Damn flea-bitten corpse never did pay me for those seven rings I forged for him!” Völund cursed.
“It was an epic betrayal,” Tizzy observed.
“That’s when we centralized control of the Doomalogues,” Darg-Krallnom told Tom. “Prior to that, they and their elemental portals were controlled locally. After that incident we centralized control here, so when we went down, the Doomalogues also shut down. If we hadn’t done that, they could probably have stayed up and helped power us.”
“So they have their own mana generators?” Tom asked.
“They did,” Völund said. “The generators would have shut down without the Wand of Orcus and Mount Doom’s central control.”
Tom shook his head. “Back to this necromancer… I can’t imagine Orcus sat still for this?”
Tizzy chuckled evilly.
“He did not. However, because so many of the orcs involved had been loyal to him before they were corrupted by the Unlife of this necromancer, he chose to take a different path than outright war with our former soldiers,” Darg-Krallnom said.
“I thought it was an insane idea!” Arg-nargoloth interjected.
“But it worked better than most anything else we’ve done. It got rid of the damn alvar!” Völund said.
“True. It worked, and we didn’t think it would,” Arg-nargoloth conceded.