Umber

In the midst of raging over the loss of his wand, Orcus receives a visitor who enrages him still further. (sab)

The voice that bellows “NO!” sends imps fleeing with shattered eardrums while the fist that smashes into the table sends fine cracks running across its basalt surface. “I will have it BACK!” Flames, hot enough to scorch stone, erupt from his form. Orcus, Demon Lord of Thanatos, flares in incandescent fury.

The figure at the other end of the table remains unperturbed. “That was a nice table. And I think it will be destroyed.”

Orcus pauses for a moment, unsure if the latter remark was intended to apply to his table, or to his beloved Wand. “You’re just trying to confuse me, Vultus,” he snaps, “and I will get it back. They are not strong enough to destroy it. It will corrupt them before they even make the attempt.”

“But they are strong enough. They defeated your invincible priest -”

“You give them too much credit,” Orcus interrupts, “they had help from two gods, you fool.”

Vultus’ right hand clenches briefly, but he restrains himself and shows no other form of annoyance. “You make my point for me, Great One. They pool their strengths and hide their weaknesses. They share wisdom, they share knowledge, they even share pain. They make friends, and keep them, not on a chain, but with threads that bind each to each.

“This is what I ask of you, Orcus. Join with me or face total defeat. See the greater cause for once. Forget your Wand – it has left your hand, to what end no one can say. Accept its loss, and accept that you are weak – ”

Orcus’ rage, temporarily forgotten, reasserts itself once again. He towers over his visitor, and his visage is terrible to behold. “I WILL NOT HEAR SUCH THINGS FROM ONE WHO IS NO BETTER THAN A MANE !”

“You are nothing,” comes Vultus’ reply, slowly rising to his feet as if he faced a disobedient child, not the full wrath of a Demon Lord near ascension. They stare at each other, Orcus with immortal hatred, Vultus with total calm. Then – Orcus’ flames flicker and go out. He blinks uncomprehendingly at his visitor, his will broken.

Vultus continues. “I am glad that I finally have your attention. You see, I have learned a secret. A wonderful secret. Come close and listen to my words…”

Orcus, still stunned, approaches Vultus as if in a trance. Leaning close, Vultus whispers into his ear.

And then a sound fills the Abyss, a sound which has not been heard there for millennia. It is a sound that causes all, from the smallest dretch clawing its way out of a pool of slime to the mightiest Balor commanding a legion of troops, to shudder in fear.

It is the sound of laughter.