Tiernon was silent for some time, looking at Beragamos. He then closed his eyes in deep thought. Finally, the god spoke. “THE LAST DEMON YOU MENTIONED — DID IT SMOKE A PIPE?”
Beragamos blinked in shock and surprise. Apparently, gods really could be all knowing! “Yes, actually. Now that you mention it, he sat under a Net of Demon Entrapment, smoking a pipe very calmly. As I think on it, the behavior was a bit odd for the circumstances.”
Tiernon sighed. “NOT FOR THIS DEMON. HE IS INSANE.”
Beragamos blinked again. “Your Godship knows this demon?”
Tiernon paused and tilted his head slightly. “‘KNOW’ IS A STRONG WORD. WE HAVE ENCOUNTERED EACH OTHER ON A FEW OCCASIONS. HOWEVER, I HAVE NOT SEEN HIM FOR OVER FIFTY THOUSAND YEARS. I ASSUMED HE WAS DEAD. AS INSANE AS HE WAS, IT WOULD STAND TO REASON THAT SOMEONE WOULD HAVE ERADICATED THE ANNOYING PEST IN THE INTERIM.”
Tiernon was silent for a moment and then continued. “AT THE TIME, I TOOK HIM FOR A FOOL.”
“Understandable, my god.”
“BUT NOW I SUSPECT HE MAY NOT BE SO MUCH THE FOOL, AS THE ONE PLAYING THE FOOL CARD.” Tiernon’s face seemed to take on a rueful expression as he shook his head from side to side. “WE SHALL HAVE TO SEE.”
Beragamos frowned, not quite understanding his god’s meaning. Further, the god finished with a different, odd expression on his face, and as always with this form, Beragamos had trouble interpreting it.
Chapter 111
Jenn gripped the carpet handles tightly as the crazed pilot dive-bombed the ground at record speed. Her stomach was going to come up soon. This was not the sort of ride someone with a hangover enjoyed. She glanced over to see that Gastropé was not pale for a change; his face appeared quite green in the early morning fierdlight.
It really was not a good thing to get world-shaking bad news about the Forces Of Evil (FOE), as the alvar called their enemies, when one was drunk. It was even worse to be plunging into an exploratory mission while hungover.
After receiving Bastien’s news, the senior alvar and Trevin went into a private consultation and came back shortly to announce that they were returning to the Nimbus and leaving for Murgatroy at once. It was only about eighty leagues, so the Nimbus could be there shortly after dawn. Jenn had shaken her head last night, trying drunkenly to comprehend such insane speed.
A second messenger arrived shortly before they boarded the Nimbus, but there was not much news beyond what they had already learned. Thus, they left with no clue as to whether there still even was a Murgatroy. Based on the information she had heard, Jenn suspected there would be, but the alvar seemed very paranoid.
Their carpets came in for a landing outside of town, near a large encampment that Seamach identified as the wargtown. It took them very little time to disembark, as the aetós and dwarves came armed and ready for combat, and were quite skilled at carpet landings under hostile conditions.
Jenn was not seeing much in the way of hostile conditions. There seemed to be no real activity coming from the town. There seemed to be a few wargs moving about, but no sign of any orcs moving about.
“Where are all the orcs in the wargtown?” Maelen asked Seamach.
Seamach was staring at the town carefully. “I see some bodies littered in the streets, but no movement.”
“Surely the D’Orcs wouldn’t have slain orcs in a wargtown?” Trevin asked.
“You would think survivors from the city would have come out to bury them,” Elrose noted.
“Not if they slaughtered everyone in the city,” Captain Ehéarellis said. “It would not be unheard of.”
They all looked towards the gates. The walls of the town were wooden tree trunks knit together. The gates were shut tight and there appeared to be no sign of activity. “Well, it is shortly after dawn,” Jenn noted hopefully.
“What sort of town doesn’t open its gates at dawn?” Gastropé asked.
“One full of corpses,” Darowin said.
“I really hate to admit it, but the dwarf has a point,” Seamach noted grimly.
“Guardians: by land and air, standard approach to the wargtown,” Trevin commanded.
The dwarves quickly fell into formation, bringing up their shields and moving towards the town. The aetós took to the air in formation and headed toward the town as well.
Once the dwarves got within about two hundred feet, Darowin called back to them. “There seems to be a horrible ruckus going on.”
“Ruckus?” Maelen asked.
“It’s snoring!” Darowin shouted back a few minutes later.
Jenn could almost feel the tension ease palpably in the air as people’s shoulders relaxed. The aetós flew in and began inspecting more closely; the dwarves eased up and moved in as well. After a few minutes, Treyfoêr flew back with a report.
“It appears everyone in the wargtown is completely passed out. In place, not even in their beds or sleeping blankets. A few are, but most seem to have fallen off benches and stools and gone to sleep.” He shook his head. “The smell of stale glargh and piss is really bad. It almost masks the stench of the wargs.”
“Is it standard orc procedure to allow everyone to just pass out with no guards or fortifications?” Gastropé asked, indicating the openness of the town. Anyone could just walk up and come in, as the dwarves had just done. His brow furrowed. “We have soldiers marching through their tents, and still no one has woken up.”
“It is not standard, as far as I know,” Seamach said, also frowning. “Although they’ve been known to let their guard down at some very serious celebrations.”
“Hoy there!” came a voice from the direction of the town gates. They all looked in that direction to see the gates being pulled into their day positions. A man, apparently human, was walking towards them. “Don’t be pilfering the wargtown or there will be hell to pay!”
“We won’t be taking anything. We were simply investigating why there was no movement,” Trevin called back.
The man arrived shortly. He was wearing a rather tacky and stained town guard uniform and had not shaved in some time. “Aye, they all went on a bender yesterday afternoon and really never stopped until they all passed out. ‘Twas a real pain for the folks who wanted to reclaim their wargs and such. They made do, but I suspect there will be some reckoning of payments at some point.”
“Is this normal?” Trevin asked.
“Nah, most of them ain’t got the kind of money you need to get this drunk,” the guard said, shaking his head before spitting.
“So what was different this time?” Maelen asked.
The guard squinted. “Well, from what I gather from those who returned to town before the others passed out, there was this large blonde woman and her associates who came to hear the tales of the D’Orcs from the day before. ‘Course, they didn’t want to talk to a human, not until she whupped Meat Maker, but then she bought them glargh all afternoon and listened to their tales.”
“And then they passed out?” Elrose asked.
“Nah, that’s when a few did return and I learned what was up. But the rest, they kept drinking on their own coins, presumably. Once an orc is drunk, it’s hard for them to stop until either their glargh or money is gone. It’s either that or pass out.”
Seamach snorted and gave Captain Ehéarellis a knowing look.
“So the D’Orcs and orcs who came to town the other day — were they any trouble?” Trevin asked.