Hilda nodded. “Yes, quite simple, really. This”—she gestured to an older man beside her—“is my grandfather, Gamos. He is a Voyager and wanted some assistance, so he brought me here.”
“A Voyager?” Jenn asked. She had no idea what that was.
“Yes, my child,” Gamos said, extending his hand to Jenn in greeting. Jenn shook it, looking at him and waiting for an explanation. “A Voyager is an animage that specializes in travel, both within and between planes of existence. As such, with sufficient training and practice, we can traverse vast distances within moments.”
Jenn shook her head slightly. “Okay, never heard of those, but then I’d never met an animage until a few weeks ago, and now I know four of them. I guess it makes sense that the talent runs in the family.”
Gamos smiled and nodded in agreement.
“So why then are you all here?” Jenn asked.
Gamos glanced to Hilda and then back to Jenn. “Stevos and Teragdor here”—he gestured to the young man and the half-orc—“alerted me to the arrival of D’Orcs here in Murgatroy. Concerned that maleficence might be afoot, specifically a raid or invasion, I thought it best to pick up a healer en route. Thus I stopped in Freehold and asked Hilda to accompany me.”
Jenn nodded but said nothing for a moment, digesting this. In essence, they were here for the same reason Jenn and the Grove people were; both had had the same concerns about a raid and dead people. “Well, that makes sense,” she finally said.
“And what about you, dear? I thought you were to be hunting down a defunct goddess ensconced inside a pyramid or something?” Hilda asked.
Jenn grinned at Hilda’s description of their expedition. “We were heading to Noajar first and had stopped by Murgandor to get the lay of the land from some agents the Grove had there. While there, rangers came alerting us to the D’Orcs so we came to investigate, having the same concern as you about a raid and casualties.”
Hilda grinned. “What happy fortune-stance! We shall all have to have dinner together!”
“You are with the Grove?” the half-orc asked Jenn rather cautiously.
“Well, I am traveling with Trevin D’Vils, Enchantress of the Grove, aboard a Grove cloudship, but technically I am with the Council of Wizardry, I guess.” Jenn frowned slightly, not exactly sure who to say she was with. Technically, that would be Lenamare, and thus she supposed the Council, but it was a bit weird.
“So you are with the alvar?” the half-orc asked hesitantly.
Jenn looked at the half-orc more closely; he was wearing a robe and had a pendant with the symbol of Tiernon on it. “I’m sorry, but is that the symbol of Tiernon?” she asked, changing the subject away from the alvar.
The half-orc reached out a hand in greeting. “Ahh, yes. As Hilda mentioned, I am Teragdor, itinerant priest of Tiernon.”
Jenn blinked as she shook the half-orc priest’s hand. “A half-orc priest of Tiernon?” She had never heard of such a thing. Like most people, she just sort of assumed that Tiernon would hate orcs; what with them generally being considered a Force of Evil, or at the least a Force of Darkness. The alvar were pretty clear on that point, particularly when drunk.
“Yes, indeed. I get that reaction a lot.” The half-orc grinned rather frighteningly. “However, I was raised by a priest and followed in his learned footsteps. My, uhm, background allows me to take the Light of Tiernon to people and regions that are otherwise hard for us to spread the message to.”
“Interesting. Astounding, really,” Jenn said. She turned to Stevos. “So are you a priest as well?”
“Ahh, not precisely. I am a servant of Tiernon as well, but not a priest,” Stevos said.
Jenn nodded, not sure what he meant but at this point not sure she could handle the answer. Too much weirdness was going on.
“So, do you need to pursue the sword or do you want to come over to our investigation site?” Jenn gestured over to the area where Grove researchers were examining the ground near where the D’Orcs had staged their activities. “Maelen and Elrose are there, and Gastropé will be shortly.”
Gamos and Hilda glanced at each other. “I think it might be worthwhile to collaborate with your team,” Gamos said while looking at Hilda, who nodded slowly.
Jenn frowned slightly; they seemed a bit unusually hesitant. However, Jenn had to admit, even though it felt like she had known Hilda forever, they had only met the one time for a few hours. So technically, she supposed they were simply acquaintances; in which case their hesitation made a bit more sense. It was just so odd how she felt such friendship with Hilda; it was not her normal response to meeting new people.
Hilda gestured to the exploration site. “It’s your site, why don’t you lead the way and make the introductions?”
Gastropé watched the gateway to the Abyss close behind Tom, cutting off the horrible screeching noise. The wizard named Vaselle was staring at the fire where the gateway had been, looking very concerned. Damien was also looking more than a bit concerned.
“I really should be there with him,” Vaselle said.
Gastropé looked at the wizard askance. “Are you nuts? It sounds pretty bad, and trust me, he can more than handle himself.”
“I know, or I am sure, but still, my place is by his side,” Vaselle said.
Gastropé noticed the orcs looking at them very oddly all of a sudden, except for the young one with the monster behind him. “Can I ask why you think you should be beside him?” he asked.
“Because I’m his warlock!” Vaselle said.
Gastropé blinked. “His what? Did you say warlock?” Gastropé had never met a warlock. Naturally, having studied conjury, he knew what they were.
“Yes.” Vaselle grinned proudly.
Gastropé squinted at him and then looked to Damien, who shook his head slightly from side to side and nodded. “He never mentioned to me that he had a warlock!” Gastropé would have to rethink his relationship with Tom.
“That’s because I just signed up a few days ago. I got in contact with him after the battle with Talarius and he gave me a project to prove my worthiness and true desire to be his servant. Once I did that, he accepted me into his service and took over my body and soul!” Vaselle made a sort of fist-pumping gesture.
Gastropé just stared at the crazy wizard with his eyes wide. “Are you nuts?” he finally asked.
Vaselle frowned at him. “No,” he replied stiffly. “What greater glory can there be than to be the trusted servant of one of the most powerful demon princes in the multiverse?”
“Demon prince?” Gastropé felt the blood leaving his face.
The young orc, Tal Gor, snorted. “Yes, demon prince. Orcus demon prince. Tommus be demon prince too.”
The humans looked at Tal Gor, puzzled. “Why are you talking like that?” Gastropé asked.
“Talk like what?” Tal Gor asked.
“Well, before you were speaking fluent Trade; now you are talking like, well, like an orc!” Gastropé said.
Tal Gor scrunched up his face. “I is orc. In past you spake good Orcish, now speak Trade, so I answer with Trade.”
“I wasn’t speaking Orcish!” Gastropé said, “You were speaking Trade.”
“No, we were all speaking Universal,” Damien said, shaking his head.
“What?” Vaselle asked.
“Vogh doath nor calldren sek Zetla, feist?” Ragala-nargoloth suddenly asked Tal Gor in what Gastropé assumed was Orcish.
“Tommus va ast, calldren sek tran veight zeigfreidnocht,” Tal Gor replied in the same language. Apparently, Orcish was the same across the planes.
“Unfortunately, I don’t have a translation stone with me,” Damien said. “I doubt we can buy one in Murgatroy, unless it’s more sophisticated than I expect.”