Vessel. It had to be some sort of monstrously huge vessel, Barabus thought, shaking his head. It was a thousand-plus-foot-long tube with rounded end caps. It was about seventy or eighty feet in diameter and made of solid black metal. Every inch of the metal hull was covered in runes, most currently only dully visible against the metal, but a fair number were glowing ominously against even the bright light of the room.
At each end were small towers protruding a few stories from the top of the thing. In the center, an even taller metal tower rose upwards. Along each side of the tube were large metal fins that stuck out at least another thirty feet. Like the body of the device, the metal fins were also engraved with runes.
Murmurs of surprise and shock finally began to rise from the assembled guests. Barabus looked up from the device and glanced at Heron, who was staring at the chancellor in complete shock.
Finally, Heron addressed the chancellor. “My gods, Dante! What have you wrought?”
Chancellor Dante Alighieri smiled even wider and raised his arms to gesture at his creation. “Ladies and gentlemen! Behold the future of law enforcement! Behold the vessel that shall allow us to extend the law to all parts of the multiverse! In air, water, fire, vacuum and aether! The law and its justice may now be served in the Abyss, in the outer planes, the demi-elemental Planes and every single material plane. As of today, there is no way to escape the law!”
Dante took a bow. As he rose, he raised his arms again and cried, “Behold! The Inferno!”
Chapter 112
The recently cleaned pipe organs in the volcano throne room swelled in unison with the voices of the fully assembled D’Orc battalions at the conclusion of the oath taking.
Reggie leaned forward and over to whisper in Tom’s ear. “Does that music sound oddly like the anthem the sailors sang in The Hunt for Red October?”
Tom shrugged. It did sort of sound like the old Soviet anthem, but he was not an expert on empires that collapsed before he was born.
It did not matter. This was his home. His homeland, his people! The booming, very martial music was the perfect capstone on the last day of oaths. D’Orcs united and inspired once more for a bright future! They would take on the multiverse, right the wrongs of the past, and bring justice to the D’Orcs and the Orcs! No more would Lilith or the smugly arrogant Los Alfar be able to look down on their people!
Tom felt like his heart would burst with the pride and joy of the assembled and once more united D’Orcs and D’Wargs as well as their assembled allies. Truly a glorious moment that would remain in their memories for all eternity. Literally, for all of eternity. Immortality, fame, glory; it was theirs to claim! Tom let his breath out softly, realizing it had been stuck in his lungs; he had been inhaling the smell of the moment and had forgotten to let it go. At long last, or well, after forty days, he had a purpose, a place. For the first time since Lenamare had dragged him away from his past life, he could see a future for himself.
“Quite a day,” Antefalken said to Drag-Krallnom, watching the assembled battalions beside him.
“Truly, bard. I confess, I did not think this day would ever come.”
“You know that I am going to have to get you to tell me the real story of what happened four thousand years ago. I know the Balladae Orcusae, but I want to compose a new, accurate song to commemorate it properly.”
Drag-Krallnom snorted. “It would be good to correct the propaganda that Lilith and her brood spews in the Abyss, and those vile alvar in Midgard.”
“Are you saying that Lilith and the alvar are somehow in league with each other?” Antefalken asked in surprise.
“In no way that we can prove,” replied Darg-Krallnom. However, Lilith has plagued us for millennia here and the Los Alfar have done the same in Midgard. It all goes back to tensions left unresolved at Ragnarök. Lilith, and for that matter, many others in multiple worlds, felt those issues were resolved in Etterdam with the treacherous defeat of Orcus. However, as was prophesied, those issues are not resolved.” He chuckled. “There shall be another reckoning, and this time, justice will prevail.”
“Interesting,” Antefalken mused. “This is all way before my time. Clearly, there is a lot that Lilith has never revealed to me.”
“You have met Lilith then?” Darg-Krallnom asked suspiciously.
Antefalken chuckled. “I have. I am, or I suppose was, the preferred bard for the Courts.” He shook his head. “But I am sure I am persona non grata now. She knows that I am, and have been for some time, in Tom’s camp. The Jilted Bride is a jealous mistress and will tolerate no infidelity.” He paused and then added, “In other words, I am not going back to the Courts unless it is flying in formation with a D’Orc army.” They both chuckled.
“The Jilted Bride?” Darg-Krallnom asked.
“Yes. I advise not using that name outside of Doom. She hates that title more than any other.”
“Why? I do not know that name for her.”
“A very, very long time ago, well before Doom was built, she was the intended of a man named Adam. She thought they were in love.” Antefalken shrugged, “Old story; he ran off with another woman named Eve to bear children and live a mortal life.”