Stevos grinned and shrugged. “Well, in many ways you’ve been functioning that way. Hell, you’ve not only had dinner and drinks with multiple saints, you’ve done so with Beragamos, Supreme Archon of Tiernon. You are taking orders and instructions from the Saints of Tierhallon. If that doesn’t qualify you as an apostle, I don’t know what does.”
“So what does this entail?” Teragdor asked, still stunned.
“Well first, you’ve already been granted bureaucratic permission from Upstairs for much higher mana resources, and now we need to do a formal anointing and then follow up with a heck of a lot of learning!” Stevos lifted the book strap with the books from beside him and put it on Teragdor’s desk. “These books have very thin pages and contain a large number of rituals, pronouncements and mantras. Actually, every ritual, pronouncement and mantra that mortals can perform. I will tutor you, but you’re going to need to study and practice them as well.”
Teragdor shook his head, his eyes locked on the books. He could not comprehend this; it was too great an honor. Too unbelievable.
“When you are not reading them, I would keep them in the book strap,” Stevos said. “It is blessed with powerful protections to keep the books from being damaged. Further, as part of the anointing process, we will key the books to open only to you. You know — trade secrets and all.”
Teragdor nodded silently, still in shock at this turn of events.
Stevos chuckled before continuing. “I can assure you that a great number of your superiors in the Church would most likely sin to get their hands on these books. There are things in there known only to the High Pontificate, and a few that not even he knows.”
Teragdor suddenly realized he had not been breathing. He let his breath out, continuing to stare at the books. This was what shock must feel like. He’d treated wounded people in shock, but had not truly experienced it.
“Oh, and we may want to see about brushing up on your physical combat skills as well.” Stevos grinned. “Nysegard is a very hostile place, and we need to make sure you can stay alive long enough to smite some undead with the Radiance of Tiernon!”
Talarius stood watching as the oath-taking ceremony in Nargolon came down to the last dozen people. He shook his head at the similarities to the one he had seen yesterday in Krallnomton. It was inconceivable to him that this vast array of very different people — D’Orcs, half-D’Orcs, orcs, half-orcs, dwarves, half-dwarves, humans, and a few of hearthean descent as well as a few half-alfar — were so willing to unconditionally swear to this demon lord.
What bothered him the most, he supposed, were the looks of relief, joy and hope that they all had as they swore their oaths. They saw this demon as their salvation, as someone capable of saving them and their way of life; as a protector and guardian against the Darkness.
That was Tiernon’s role! It was just wrong that a demon lord, a gods-forsaken demon lord, could fulfill this role. He would have thought perhaps they were deluded, but he had now heard enough tales from the times of Orcus to know that Orcus had apparently played that role himself, at least here. Either that or the immortal D’Orcs had convinced later generations of this.
But if it was all a façade, what was the purpose? That was what Talarius could not determine. It was getting progressively harder and harder for him to untwist the logical knots he was having to tie himself into to continue thinking of this demon as pure Evil with a capital E.
The people he had talked to, and trained, had all been good people who had not believed they were lying to him when they praised the D’Orcs and Lord Tommus. While he did not have Holy Truth Sight, his visor could accurately measure changes in body temperature, subdermal tension and other minutiae that could give him an indication of whether or not the subject was lying; at least for humans, whose physiology he understood. He did not know enough about orcs to be able to interpret their honesty. Alvar were even harder to judge, based on his experience.
It was also odd that multiple people in both Krallnomton and Nargolon had recognized him as a knight of Tiernon and welcomed him with what could only be called open arms. The level of subterfuge this demon would have to be going to in order to seduce and corrupt him was, frankly, becoming untenable. He would, even as Tom had pointed out, have to be insanely egotistical and full of hubris, all sins that he had tried to avoid his entire life, to think that he was so worthy of such mind- and dimension-bending machinations.
As the service finished, one of the oath takers came up to him. He appeared to be a lad of about twenty; however, by his ears and fine features, Talarius recognized him as having alvaran blood. The half-elf stuck out his hand to Talarius in greeting.
“Stainsberry,” the lad said as Talarius took his hand.
