“Not often, but on occasion as I recall,” Tizzy agreed.
“So humans could actually survive here,” Tom said.
“Not sure about the acidity of the rain, but presumably,” Tizzy said.
“Actually, that would be a very comfortable temperature for orcs,” Antefalken mused.
“Do you know, that would be helpful with the refreshments,” Boggy suddenly added, looking up from his paper. “We’re not likely to be able to get our hands on any Denubian Choco-CoffeeTM, nor any blood wine, so we’ll probably need to whip up some x-glargh, which boils somewhere near the same point as water. It’s best served cold, around a quarter of the boiling point of water.”
“X-glargh?” Tom asked.
“It’s an extra-potent form of glargh, a favored intoxicant of orcs according to Hezbarg, the quartermaster.” He gestured to Tizzy. “X-glargh has some extra ingredients that increase the potency so that it affects demons.” Boggy frowned. “It’s nowhere near as potent as blood wine or Denubian Choco-CoffeeTM, though, so we are going to need a lot of it.”
“Anyone know what the X is?” Antefalken asked the room. “I know how to make glargh, but I’m not sure about the X part. We are going to need to let it sit and ferment for a while.”
“I do,” Tizzy said. “It is mainly nightshade and arsenic. The amount is sort of to taste. Oh, and a good bit of nitro-glycerin — that’s what gives it a kick — plus a few other slightly more esoteric things, like a splash or two of mercury.”
“The fermentation is going to be a problem,” Antefalken said.
“Not if you can find a thaumaturgist to speed it up,” Estrebrius said.
“I don’t suppose Vaselle is a thaumaturge?” Boggy asked the smaller demon.
“No, don’t think so. But he could probably hire one for a gem or two,” Estrebrius said.
“Jenn’s a thaumaturge,” Rupert said, entering the room from a side chamber.
“Something tells me she might not want to play cocktail waitress at a D’Orc party,” Tizzy said.
“Okay, here’s my count, assuming x-glargh,” Boggy said. “If we assume two quarts per demon times 2,000 demons, that’s 4,000 quarts or 1,000 gallons or about seventeen barrels. I think we should really assume at least twenty barrels in case the count is off. So I think a nice two dozen barrels should be perfect.”
“I don’t know that we can make that many barrels,” Antefalken said worriedly. “If I could get a hold of some of my Denubian contacts, that would help. No one could possibly drink two quarts of Denubian Choco-CoffeeTM. A quart and you’d be well beyond passed out.”
“Plus, the Denubians are equipped for mass production and distribution of the stuff. You can get it by the barrel, and you do not have to keep it cold. Just heat it up when needed,” Boggy said.
“Unfortunately, Hezbarg has said that it’s not safe for D’Orcs to go to the Courts, where we could, with enough cash, buy what we needed,” Antefalken said. “And I don’t know how the rest of us could lug everything we need.”
“Speaking of which,” Boggy said, turning to look at Tom, “we are going to need you to pop open some gateways for some cattle, goat and pig raids for the food.”
“Huh?” Tom asked, puzzled.
“Well, it will not be a problem for a D’Orc hunting party to round up the groceries, so to speak, if you can open a portal to a plane that has the aforementioned grocery items,” Boggy said.
“And how am I to do that? I need someone summoning me, or some other summons I can intercept,” Tom said.
“Well, your predecessor used to contact orc shamans all the time to do that sort of thing, according to Hezbarg,” Boggy said.
“Okay, first, I don’t know any orc shamans, I’ve never even met an orc, and I don’t speak orcish,” Tom told the demon.
“Shouldn’t be a problem, given that we are all speaking Universal,” Tizzy said.
“What?”
“What, you never noticed that demons can talk to people who summon them, no matter the person’s language?” Tizzy began shaking his head. “And you didn’t think that odd? How else would they command us? If they can contact demons, they can communicate with us. Seriously, who would want to learn Denubian the mundane way? You need at least two mouths to speak it natively; Universal takes care of it for us.”
“Is that why the D’Orcs don’t sound like orcs?” Rupert asked suddenly, as if he had just realized something.
“What do you mean?” Antefalken asked.
“Well everyone knows that orcs always talk funny with really stilted, mangled vocabulary. Very brutish like, but the D’Orcs sound like normal people.”
Antefalken laughed. “Orcs only talk like that when speaking foreign tongues. Their jaw structure and tusks make speaking most of the human or alvaren tongues rather tricky. If you talk to them in orcish, they sound very normal.”
Boggy nodded. “So if you were to speak to an orc in Universal, he or she would hear orcish and reply in orcish, but you would hear Universal. They would sound just as normal as the D’Orcs do here.”
“Cool!” Rupert said.
Antefalken shook his head as if in dismay. “Elitist cultures often mock foreign tongues and the way foreigners speak the tongue of the elitists. In fact, the word barbarian comes from the baa-ing noises that sheep make. The elitists who invented the word joked that the foreigners’ home tongue sounded like the bleating of sheep. Hence baa-baa-rian.” He grinned. “And of course, when the barbarians tried to speak the tongues of the elitists, they did so poorly, so the elitist generally assumed the speakers were primitive, ignorant and of lower culture.”
“But if the elitists tried to learn the tongue of the barbarians, wouldn’t they sound equally stupid?” Rupert asked.
“Precisely.” Antefalken said. “However, it is the side with the better historians that ends up dictating who the elitists were and who the barbarians were.”
Tom closed his eyes. Was it possible, he wondered, to change his mind at this moment and decide this was all a dream? He shook his head. “So anyway, I’ll see what I can do about contacting an orc shaman.”
“You know, if we do that, they might be able to help us get glargh already in barrels,” Antefalken said.
“Then we just add the X and mix it up!” Tizzy clapped his lower hands. “Excellent idea! As soon as Tom purchases his warlock, it can get us the X ingredients in that wizard city of his, no problem.”
Tom wandered over to Rupert, who had gone over to the very large fireplace. There was very large spit in it. Had his predecessor cooked his own dinner here? Or his victims? Tom wondered. “Where’s Talarius?” he asked Rupert.
Rupert pointed to the third door leading off the room; there were a total of five, including the one to the hall. “He’s in there; it’s another smaller bedroom.”
“How are you doing with this craziness?” Tom asked.
“Great! Isn’t it amazing how the prophecy knew that you would come here with me, just like we did?” Rupert asked with a big grin.
“Yeah, except I don’t think I’m the reincarnation of some orc god. As I was saying, I have never even met an orc before. Have you?”
Rupert thought for a moment. “No, not met. I saw some in Exador’s army though, from the walls.”
“I don’t know how accurate this prophecy is, or how we could be fulfilling it.”
“But the fact that you were prophesied to come, restart the volcano and have an identical-looking son?” Rupert tilted his head while looking up at Tom and smiled. “How do you explain that?”
Tom sighed. “I don’t. I don’t know anything about prophecies. Or how one could have prophesies or fate when you’ve got gods and demons princes messing around with stuff.” He shook his head. “I’m definitely going to ask about this prophecy. Find out exactly what it is they think I am going to do. I hope I don’t have to conquer a world or something.” Tom thought back over the discussions with the commanders. He turned towards Tizzy back at the table.