The incubus continued, “Well, the next thing you know I’m riding these incredible waves of pleasure, more intense than any previous session with pot or with myself. I sort of lose track of things and then there’s this big-ass sista with a huge set of badongas calling me to come make love to her.”
Okay, Tom thought, this wasn’t quite what he had been expecting.
“So I came over, and it was like a dream, you know, all clouds and funky colored lights and such, and anyway we started, you know, getting it on.” The incubus had started fondling itself again.
Tom coughed and it stopped.
“Yeah, sorry. Well anyway, I like, well, entered her and then the next thing you know there’s this searing pain and she’s shouting this crazy shit at the top of her lungs. I thought she was calling for the cops or about to go all voodoo on me or some shit, and then the next thing I know there’s this incredible, monstrous, all-consuming agony.” The incubus shuddered remembering it. “And this creepy blackish-red dude with wings and four arms sort of jumps me or... I don’t know, it was weird.”
The incubus stood up and started pacing. “Anyway, all I know is I’m lying in some strange-ass bed with all sorts of candles surrounding it and these weird glowing symbols on the floor and on the sheets. She hops out of bed to the other side of these symbols and starts shouting crazy stuff like: ‘You are mine Reginaldjacksonaustinkincaid!’ I bind you by you true name!”
Tom stopped listening when the incubus said its true name. He could not believe it! What a fucking coincidence! What sweet, sweet justice!
“And then” — the demon had kept going, not noticing Tom’s expression — “I’m here on this crazy mountain and like I am the freaky four-armed blackish-red guy.”
“Reggie, you jackass, I’m going to kick your butt into the next plane!” Tom launched himself at Reggie, tackled him and started hitting him as fast as he could.
“Ow... Ow... What the fuck man... What the fuck, that hurts! Stop it...” The demon was crying.
Tom stopped, realizing what he was doing; the smaller demon did not have a chance. Tom shook his head and stood up, getting off Reggie.
“I’m sorry, I’ve just been so pissed at you that I couldn’t help myself.” Tom reached down to help pull Reggie up.
“What the fuck, man? I just met you.” The incubus wiped tears from its eyes. Apparently, incubi could cry. Tom felt like crap suddenly. What an asshole he was being. None of this was really Reggie’s fault, and now he was stuck just like Tom.
Tom leaned in and gave Reggie a big hug. “I’m sorry man, it wasn’t cool of me. I was just so angry at you and then you show up, and I sort of went postal.”
Reggie struggled to get free. Tom quickly released him as he suddenly realized that the incubus had been extremely aroused by his hug. Tom stepped back and Reggie, realizing he was at full mast, tried to shield himself with his four hands. He was staring at Tom as if Tom was insane.
“Reggie. It’s me, Tom, Tom Perkinje.” He waved at Reggie.
Reggie blinked. “Tom?”
“Yeah!”
“Tom who I gave the joint to and then he went and died on me?”
“That’s me!”
Reggie’s eyes rolled back and he crumpled to the ground in shock.
Tizzy started coughing. Coughing and laughing and clutching his guts with all four arms, rocking back and forth. “That’s gotta be the greatest reunion scene of all time!” Tizzy was laughing and somehow wiping tears from his eyes — tears of blood, it appeared, but tears still. “See, I told you! I knew you’d want to come with me!”
Talarius woke to darkness. He hurt all over. Every joint, every muscle, every pore seemed to ooze pain. However, none of it hurt as much as the pain in his heart, in his soul. He had failed. As his mind cleared, the events of the day before came rushing back in. He had failed Tiernon. He had failed the Rod. He had failed himself. His hubris had been his downfall.
He should have been more thorough in dispatching the damn demon and its minions. He should not have been so lenient. The damned monster had turned the tables. It had stolen mana from his god; it had possessed priests and the members of the Rod. It had used the Holy Church of Tiernon against him, and then it had survived an impossible death stroke and destroyed a Holy Artifact of Tiernon. It had then abducted him to the Abyss.
He was now here and damned for... well, a very long time. He was not quite sure. All he knew was that his immortal soul was possibly lost. That damned clothed demon had been right. If he died here, his soul would die here. He would never...
“Stop,” the knight ordered himself aloud. He did not have time for this line of thought. He was in enemy territory. Deeper enemy territory than he had ever been in before. Furthermore, he was unarmed, or mostly unarmed. A few small blades inset into his armor, a couple of flash bombs, a Rod of Smiting along with a Rod of Holy Lightning, both also part of his armor. Like the blades, they were designed into the armor to appear as part of it. He also had a garroting wire, lock picks, two vials of healing, and three vials of holy water. But other than that, and his impenetrable armor, he was completely defenseless!
He did have his Sash of Heavenly Flight as well, under his armor, so he could fly away if he needed. He had been in too much shock to use it when he fell through the hole. That multi-limbed nightmare had grabbed him before he had invoked it. The problem, of course, was where would he fly? He had absolutely no means of extradimensional travel. No way to get home.
However, if he was going to count the sash as part of his defense, then he’d have to also count his Grefalgar’s Girdle of Grace for the agility and dexterity it provided him, as well as his Gauntlets of Grappling, and his Undergarments of Cleansing. While all useful on a crusade and okay in combat, they were not particularly offensive or defensive devices.
Of course, the Ring of Invisibility on his left hand was theoretically defensive, but hiding was always a last resort. A coward’s resort. And the pendant he wore with its mana pool did nothing in and of itself; it was just reserve mana for any of the holy rituals he might need to cast. Certainly, his Flask of Holy Refreshment with its unending supply of icy cold water could not be counted as offensive or defensive. Unless he needed to put out a fire — there seemed to be a fair amount of fire around this place.
And since demons were not undead, his bracelets were useless and thus not to be counted. He supposed the Ring of Blessing on his right hand was equally useless. Normally he used it to bless his allies. He had never tried it on himself, but it seemed just a bit self-serving to bless oneself. A Blessing of Tiernon might, however, have some negative effects on a demon. He just was not sure. It did cause problems for undead; skeletons and zombies in particular.
He shook his head and sat up. It was no use lying on the ground wallowing in his weakened state and the minimal resources he currently had at his command. He had not planned on coming, so he really had not packed. The floor of this cave was miserable for sleeping, particularly while in full plate armor, but he had been so exhausted that it had not mattered. He did have to admit that, aside from the initial discomfort, he did feel better now, after his nap. How long had he slept? Three, four hours at least.
There was a scratching noise from across the room, the sound of demon hooves on the stone. Someone was approaching. He needed to adjust his helm’s visor to see in the dark. “So, finally awake?” The Rupert demon said.
“Yes, fiend.”
The Rupert demon sighed. “I’m not a fiend. Tizzy and Boggy are fiends. I’m at least a third order, maybe a greater demon.” He actually sounded a bit whiny and defensive, almost like the young boy he had pretended to be. These demons took their deceptions to ridiculous levels, Talarius sighed to himself. Why they were continuing such nonsense when he was clearly at their mercy was a mystery.