Tonight’s trance would be something new. He was going to attempt astral projection to Ithgar, something he had never done before. He had managed to project himself to the Abyss, using a summoning stone, but this time he was going to another one of the Planes of Orc, and he had no summoning stone. Only a basic shaman link to Beya Fei Geist and the other shamans who would be attending.
However, he did have something he had not had before. He had broken off a small portion of one of the cookies he had the others had stockpiled at the celebration in Mount Doom, and had ground it up into a potion to help him. This had been Beya’s suggestion. Tal Gor had never used demon weed before, but it was by all legends extremely powerful, particularly in edible form. According to Beya, if one took too much of it, one could find oneself astrally projected to the other side of the multiverse, where the laws of magic were so skewed, who knew what might happen.
Tal Gor lit the two candles beside his scrying bowl, along with an incense cone. He then drank the small vial of cookie potion and closed his eyes, relaxing his body and mind. He began a soft Chant of Concentration and Serenity while focusing on his link to Beya Fei Geist.
He had allotted plenty of time to allow himself to relax and let the potion assist him. The critical piece, in his mind, was not being afraid of failure. He had to allow himself to relax; to stop thinking about relaxing, to clear his mind and focus only on Beya Fei Geist and their link.
Eventually, feeling calmer and more than a little happy, he began the chant that would assist him in freeing his spirit from his body. He allowed the words of his chant to permeate his being, directing them over the link he could feel to Beya Fei Geist.
In his mind’s eye, the link he was tracing was suddenly surrounded by a swirling tunnel of colored lights. It felt as if he was falling down an infinitely deep well whose walls were billowy clouds, coruscating with flashing lights in an array of amazing colors. Before he could fully appreciate the dizzying kaleidoscope of colors and sensations, he found himself sitting in a large and luxurious tent.
He was seated on a large pillow, one of several in a ring around a large bowl of slightly translucent, glowing white liquid. Several short candlesticks with lit candles provided a warm glow to the room. Beya Fei Geist was seated three pillows over. Two orcs, both younger than himself, were seated on each side of her. She was holding their hands with her eyes closed.
“Welcome, Tal Gor!” Beya said without opening her eyes. “You are the first to arrive.”
That was a relief; he had been anxious that he would be late. “Thank you,” he replied.
“If you start to feel wobbly, concentrate on the bowl in the center of the circle. It will help you stabilize,” Beya told him.
“Boys, can you see Tal Gor with your astral eyes?” Beya asked the two young orcs beside her. One of them looked oddly familiar to Tal Gor; however, having never been to Ithgar before, he was sure it was just a coincidence.
They both scrunched their faces up, and after a moment the one he did not recognize said, “Yes, I see him!” This one’s voice sounded familiar. That was odd.
“Hey, Tal Gor!” the young orc hailed him with a grin, keeping his eyes closed.
“Greetings!” Tal Gor said. He had no idea who this orc was; presumably Beya’s apprentice, although the boy had greeted him as if they’d met before.
“I can hear him!” the other boy said, also sounding familiar.
“Relax your eyes; do not squeeze them so tight. Relax,” Beya advised.
“Okay, I will try. It’s just tricky to relax and still keep my form,” the second boy said. They waited a few moments in silence.
“Oh, there — I see you!” the second boy said, turning to face Tal Gor, his eyes shut. “Hey, Tal Gor! Good to see you again!”
“Again? I do not believe we’ve ever met,” Tal Gor told the boy.
Both boys broke into broad grins and started to laugh.
Beya squeezed their hands. “Stay calm; you will lose your trance state if you don’t relax!” she cautioned them.
“Sorry,” the first boy apologized to Beya. He grinned to Tal Gor. “It’s me, Rupert!”
“And I’m Fer-Rog!” the second, oddly familiar-looking boy said.
“What?” Tal Gor asked. He did a double take and had to glance at the glowing bowl to stabilize himself. The orc that had identified himself as Fer-Rog did look like Fer-Rog, the D’Orc boy from Mount Doom; that was why he looked familiar, Tal Gor suddenly realized. And the one claiming to be the son of Lord Tommus did sound like Rupert.
“How?” Tal Gor asked in surprise and shock.
“Skinwalking,” Beya Fei Geist said, smiling gently at Tal Gor.
“Skinwalking? D’Orcs and demons can skinwalk?” This was incredible, and more than a little disturbing.
Beya chuckled. “Of course, or at least some of them can. Do you not remember Lord Tommus masquerading as Edwyrd the human animage?”
Tal Gor shook his head in amazement. “Yes, but… well, he’s Lord Tommus, the Heir of Orcus. He can do whatever he pleases.”
Rupert chuckled. “He’s also my dad! I’ve got a human form as well; I thought it would be good to also have an orc form.”
“And Rupert taught me how to do it too!” Fer-Rog said excitedly.
“Interesting,” Farsooth Gore Tusk said, suddenly appearing sitting to Tal Gor’s left.
“Indeed,” Ragala-nargoloth snorted, also appearing in the circle on the other side of Farsooth. Is she smoking a cigar? Tal Gor wondered in shock, looking over at the shaman. How does one smoke an astral cigar?
“Ah, greetings!” Beya told the other shamans.
“Yes, as I was about to explain, Lord Tommus has asked me, and by extension the rest of you, to help train Fer-Rog and Rupert in the shamanic tradition. We will be needing more shamans; particularly on the Mount Doom side,” Beya told them.
Ragala-nargoloth nodded her head. “Excellent idea.”
“It should also be easier for them to blend in and learn orc traditions if they look normal. Demons and D’Orcs are more likely to provoke a violent response in those that are not familiar with them,” Farsooth commented.
“What is the other pillow for?” Ragala-nargoloth asked Beya.
“We have one more guest for this evening; one of us who was not able to attend the celebration,” Beya explained even as the pillow was filled by a new orc.
“That would be me,” the new orc said as he arrived. “My apologies for running late. I was detained on my shift, transcribing a very long-winded order from Admiral General Darth Nargolos’s second assistant deputy.”
Tal Gor and the rest nodded, not completely understanding what the very oddly dressed shaman was saying. Oddly dressed was perhaps an understatement, Tal Gor reflected.
The orc was wearing a sleeveless black silk vest-like tunic, trimmed in silver and belted at the waist with what appeared to be a woven metal belt about a claw’s length in width. He wore matching black silk pants that opened up wider at the ankle to cover very large boots made of some very unusual material. His wrists were encased in very odd gauntlets, each with a glass surface with glowing and blinking lights on it. His arms bore various tattoos, many of which were fairly traditional for a shaman, but some of which made no sense at all, at least not to Tal Gor.
He also wore a small coronet with a few gems mounted on the front, and metal strands or wires running down to his ears to join with an earring, at least on Tal Gor’s side. His head was shaven except for a very long ponytail from the rear crown of his head. Not a completely uncommon style, but the metal wires lacing it were quite unusual.