general Mayhem, and pretty soon the greediest most black hearted scum of the world will be at the front door wanting in. The quality may not be all that, but you’ll not be lacking in quantity.
So you have your Dark Fortress, it’s all decked out and there’s a growing army. All that remains for you to do is take on your Mantle of Power and you’re set. No matter how tempting it may be to Come Forth before you have your Power do not do it. Many a promising Dark Lord has Come Forth without first having gathered his full Power. This is a big mistake. Remember, the Forces of Good are almost obliged to do nothing while you are still Rising. After all, what wrong have you done? There’s no law against establishing a fortress and gathering an army. But as soon as you Come Forth all bets are off. If whatever you need to assume your full Power is not in your hands at this point then it’s fair game and in the worst case scenario the Forces of Good will discover it and destroy it. And then it’s Game Over.
The Mantle of Power sounded exciting. Morden wondered what his might be. He hoped it was some kind of staff. Staffs were good. One with a skull on the top that shot death beams would be ideal. He could hardly wait.
Your enthusiasm is good, young Morden, but let me offer a cautionary tale.
There was a promising Dark Lord who had risen well. Despite all this he made a number of crucial mistakes after good preparation, not least of which was investing all his power in a ring, and then losing it (fool!). Such a shame. He had real promise.
So if you are going to put all your power into a staff with skulls and death beams, make sure it doesn’t get stolen, and check the wood for termites.
Chapter 9 A Bad Start
Image is everything.
The Dark Lord’s Handbook
Morden set the Dark Lord’s Handbook down, rested his hands over the skulls that adorned the armrests of his throne, and pondered the words he had read. It was obvious that if he were to become a Dark Lord there was much work ahead. Though the Handbook had shown him in broad strokes the things he must do to successfully Rise, he instinctively knew that the devil would be in the detail. He understood what must be done, but it was not clear to him exactly what the first step should be.
Maybe it was because he was comfortable with life as it was. His throne room in the Bindelburg School for Young Masters and Prospective Brewers was quiet. His minions were abroad in the town, leaving him to mull over these weighty matters. He wished Grimtooth were here so that he might question him further. Though the Handbook was a bottomless well of information about Dark Lords, it was still a book. He couldn’t talk to it (at least not out loud) and it didn’t have the comforting presence that Grimtooth somehow had, despite his terrifying orcish demeanour. Grimtooth had been gone weeks and no word had come. Was he supposed to stay in Bindelburg or was he meant to head east towards Zoon the Reviled’s ruined empire, which seemed a best bet for his own Rising? He was not sure. Something kept him in Bindelburg. Like those delicious hours on a sweaty late summer’s afternoon, when the air was thick and there was the smell of electricity in the air, and the clouds were dark with stormy promise, he could feel that something was going to happen. Something was going to give. He could almost taste it.
The door shattering off its hinges in an explosion of wood and splinters was not quite what he had been imagining and for a second he froze. He had been so deep in thought he had heard no one approaching. The sentry boards in the floor of the corridor should have warned him.
In the doorway stood a lumpy bulk of a man with a steel hat and a bill hook. He had to squeeze himself through the splintered door frame to get into the room. A knot of smaller men followed quickly behind and formed a ring around Morden.
There seemed little point in doing much more than recomposing himself
So you have your Dark Fortress, it’s all decked out and there’s a growing army. All that remains for you to do is take on your Mantle of Power and you’re set. No matter how tempting it may be to Come Forth before you have your Power do not do it. Many a promising Dark Lord has Come Forth without first having gathered his full Power. This is a big mistake. Remember, the Forces of Good are almost obliged to do nothing while you are still Rising. After all, what wrong have you done? There’s no law against establishing a fortress and gathering an army. But as soon as you Come Forth all bets are off. If whatever you need to assume your full Power is not in your hands at this point then it’s fair game and in the worst case scenario the Forces of Good will discover it and destroy it. And then it’s Game Over.
The Mantle of Power sounded exciting. Morden wondered what his might be. He hoped it was some kind of staff. Staffs were good. One with a skull on the top that shot death beams would be ideal. He could hardly wait.
Your enthusiasm is good, young Morden, but let me offer a cautionary tale.
There was a promising Dark Lord who had risen well. Despite all this he made a number of crucial mistakes after good preparation, not least of which was investing all his power in a ring, and then losing it (fool!). Such a shame. He had real promise.
So if you are going to put all your power into a staff with skulls and death beams, make sure it doesn’t get stolen, and check the wood for termites.
Chapter 9 A Bad Start
Image is everything.
The Dark Lord’s Handbook
Morden set the Dark Lord’s Handbook down, rested his hands over the skulls that adorned the armrests of his throne, and pondered the words he had read. It was obvious that if he were to become a Dark Lord there was much work ahead. Though the Handbook had shown him in broad strokes the things he must do to successfully Rise, he instinctively knew that the devil would be in the detail. He understood what must be done, but it was not clear to him exactly what the first step should be.
Maybe it was because he was comfortable with life as it was. His throne room in the Bindelburg School for Young Masters and Prospective Brewers was quiet. His minions were abroad in the town, leaving him to mull over these weighty matters. He wished Grimtooth were here so that he might question him further. Though the Handbook was a bottomless well of information about Dark Lords, it was still a book. He couldn’t talk to it (at least not out loud) and it didn’t have the comforting presence that Grimtooth somehow had, despite his terrifying orcish demeanour. Grimtooth had been gone weeks and no word had come. Was he supposed to stay in Bindelburg or was he meant to head east towards Zoon the Reviled’s ruined empire, which seemed a best bet for his own Rising? He was not sure. Something kept him in Bindelburg. Like those delicious hours on a sweaty late summer’s afternoon, when the air was thick and there was the smell of electricity in the air, and the clouds were dark with stormy promise, he could feel that something was going to happen. Something was going to give. He could almost taste it.
The door shattering off its hinges in an explosion of wood and splinters was not quite what he had been imagining and for a second he froze. He had been so deep in thought he had heard no one approaching. The sentry boards in the floor of the corridor should have warned him.
In the doorway stood a lumpy bulk of a man with a steel hat and a bill hook. He had to squeeze himself through the splintered door frame to get into the room. A knot of smaller men followed quickly behind and formed a ring around Morden.
There seemed little point in doing much more than recomposing himself