One of the commanders suddenly choked and grabbed for his battle-axe. “Treachery! A knight of Tiernon!” The others all stepped back, suddenly very concerned and nervous.
“Relax!” Tom ordered, realizing this was all about to blow up. “He is my hostage.” Something true! “He will not harm you, nor will you harm him. He is part of my strategy.” He glanced at Talarius, who of course was glaring at him through his visor, or at least Tom assumed he was by his stance.
“Ack!” another, older-looking D’Orc said as the previous D’Orc’s motion had freed this one’s line of sight. “This is a validation of the prophecy I did not need!” He was pointing at Tizzy.
“Hey, Darg-Krallnom! Long time no see!” Tizzy smiled and waved.
“You know this demon, Darg?” the first upset D’Orc asked.
“Yes. The master used to allow him the run of the mount, and on occasion sought his advice,” Darg-Krallnom said.
“Yes,” a third older D’Orc warrior with a broken right tusk said. “Probably the only prince in the Abyss to listen to that trickster!”
Boggy looked over to Tizzy. “Well, apparently you haven’t changed much in four thousand years or so.”
Tizzy shrugged. “What can I say? You stick with what works!” Tizzy turned to the third D’Orc. “Good to see you too, Arg-nargoloth! Still haven’t seen a dentist?”
A D’Orc beside Arg-nargoloth had to restrain the D’Orc commander from rushing forward to throttle Tizzy.
Tom shook his head, looking at Tizzy. He was starting to suspect a setup. He was not sure how that could be; things seemed too random, and yet... Tizzy knew these D’Orcs? Then why had they been running from D’Orcs? Tom glanced back at the D’Orcs who knew Tizzy and realized that the expressions on their faces most likely explained why they had been fleeing. Apparently, a significant number of demons who knew Tizzy wished him ill.
“Yes, well... seems like some of us know each other already,” Tom said. “Tizzy many of you know. The demon Boggy,” he said, gesturing to Boggy. “Talarius, Knight Rampant of Tiernon, we have established is in my custody and not to be harmed. Beside him is Reggie, an incubus in my service.” One of the commanders got what Tom thought might be a reflective look on his face thinking about an incubus. He was not sure though; maybe it was simply indigestion.
Next Tom pointed to Estrebrius. “Estrebrius is another associate and confidant of mine.” He then pointed to Antefalken. “My bard, Antefalken.” Antefalken nodded. “And finally, Rupert — ”
“Of course,” Zelda interrupted with a big smile. “Clearly, we recognize your son; he is identical to you, even as the prophecy said he would be.”
Tom froze in his tracks. He wondered if his eyes were as wide as Rupert’s were. Tom coughed. “Aah... yes. Yes, indeed. We should talk more about this prophecy later.”
Zelda nodded. “Allow me to present my commanders by seniority.”
Darg-Krallnom stepped forward. “I am Darg-Krallnom of the Krall Tribe of Astlan. It is an honor to see your return, Master.” He stepped back and Arg-nargoloth stepped forward.
“Arg-nargoloth, the Narg Tribe of Etterdam.” He gave a bow and stepped back to allow the D’Orc who had been upset with Talarius’s presence to approach.
“Roth Tar Gorefest, of the Hun Horde of Romdan. I apologize for my reaction to your prisoner. Old habits...” He gestured, not knowing what to say.
Tom nodded. “Very understandable.” Roth Tar Gorefest stepped back.
Another D’Orc, this one short and rather squat, stepped forward. “Vargg Agnoth of the Ag Clan of Nysegard. Welcome back, My Lord.” He nodded as best his short neck allowed and then stepped back.
“Delg Narmoloth of the Delg Tribe of Earth,” a rather old-looking, tall, thin, bald D’Orc stated, stepping forward and bowing.
“Earth?” Tom sat up straighter. “I wasn’t aware there were orcs on Earth.” He suddenly hoped Tizzy’s history had been correct.
Delg Narmoloth chuckled. “Not for millennia. Our tribes began migrating at the same time as the other jötunnkind. I myself was reborn by your previous self after personally slaying a hundred Valkyries at Ragnarök.”
“You were at Ragnarök?” Tom asked incredulously.
“Yes. We were able to force the Æsir back across Asbrú, the rainbow bridge, which, with Loki’s assistance we were able to destroy and thus block the Æsir’s access to Earth, and all of Midgard for that matter, once and for all. Unfortunately, however, they had to do it from Jötunheimr and that sealed the last of the jötunnkind from Midgard as well. Or so I understand; I was busy dying at that exact time.”
“So how long ago was this?” Tom asked.
Delg Narmoloth grimaced. “Millennia, as I said. It’s hard to tell time here. It was a few lifetimes before” — the D’Orc suddenly seemed uncomfortable — “the incident.”
“The incident?” Tom asked, puzzled.
“Your death,” Tizzy suggested helpfully.
Delg Narmoloth looked relieved that Tizzy had said it rather than him. Tom sighed internally; a dark overlord probably would not want minions mentioning his defeat.
Tom nodded. “Understood.” He nodded at Delg Narmoloth, who quickly stepped back after having almost stepped in it. So to speak.
The next D’Orc to step forward was extremely burly with pointed tusks and very shiny, pointy teeth. Clearly he brushed, which seemed a bit odd. His pectorals were huge under his armor.
“I am Helga Dourtooth of the Dourtooth Clan of Nysegard,” the D’Orc said in a slightly higher-pitched voice than the others. This was a woman! Tom nodded and smiled grimly. That was a surprise.
Another female D’Orc stepped forward. “I am Ayega DeathTusk. I am daughter of Fenwith DeathTusk of the DeathTusk Horde of Romdan.” She bowed and then stepped back. Given that she gave her father’s name, was she born here? Tom wondered.
A third female warrior stepped forward, this one much more obviously female than Helga. “I am Frigda Normaghast, daughter of Blargh Normaghast of the Houofa Horde of Ithgar.”
As she stepped back a rather wiry, but still very muscular D’Orc stepped forward and bowed. “Zog Darthelm, son of Neth Darthelm of the Elm Clan of Gormegaest, Antilles star cluster.”
“Antilles star cluster?” Tom asked curiously.
“My Lord, as my father related to me, the Plane of Orcnaes is called Gormegaest, and on that plane the Elm Clan roamed between the stars and planets of the Antilles star cluster in great metal ships,” the commander told him.
“Ah,” Tom said. Had 40K got it right? He had always preferred the original, but if it turned out to be based on a real place — wait, he was already stuck in one crazy fantasy world. No need to think about gaming in another. He shook his head. “Such metal ships might prove interesting.”
Zog nodded and stepped back.
The next commander stepped forward stiffly and bowed. “Fester Dourtooth, son of Helga Dourtooth of the Dourtooth Clan of Nysegard.”
“Helga” — Tom gestured to the burly female — “is your mother?”
“Yes, My Lord.”
“And you have risen to commander, as well. Your prowess honors her,” Tom said. He really had no idea what to say to show appreciation, but he figured that anything you might say to praise a Klingon should work for D’Orcs.
Fester made a very slight grin — hard to detect, but noticeable. Helga seemed pleased as well as she stared at her son. Mother and son fighting side by side in battle. Tom mentally shook his head. He had not even been here an hour and already he was starting to think like a D’Orc — or a Klingon, at least.