the strength he now realised he had, he squeezed the broken link closed and let the pendant hang.
Stonearm coughed and his eyes turned to the sky. The surviving orc bandits who had been sneaking a peek at him from their prostrate positions buried their faces back in the dirt.
“What?” said Morden. There was a gust of wind and Morden realised he was stark naked and pinky white once more. He snatched up one of the bigger pieces of the robe that he had torn and wrapped it around his midriff. Grabbing the Handbook from where it had fallen, he scurried to the back of the wagon.
“Sort these men…orcs…out, Stonearm. I’ll be in the wagon.”
As he scrambled into the back of the wagon, Morden could hear Stonearm bark out orders and organise the surviving orc bandits. It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the dimness of the wagon. There were no trade goods, just bows, arrows, cooking gear, hard tack and cold meats, a barrel of beer – that by the smell was not up to the Brothers’ standards – and not much else.
A huge fist thrust in through the back flap. It held an assortment of clothes, mostly clean but with the odd splash of blood.
“I thought these might be useful,” said Stonearm from outside.
The fist released the clothes and the barking commands resumed. Morden got dressed as fast as he could and sat to gather his thoughts. What to do now? So far he’d lost everything, been kidnapped, escaped, been captured, turned into a dragon, escaped. It was hardly what he’d been expecting. Where was the vast army and towering obsidian spires of his mountain fortress? He felt at a complete loss.
His eyes drifted to where he had put down the Handbook.
Well, it couldn’t hurt , he thought, picking the Handbook up and flicking open the cover.
Chapter 14 Third Lesson – Hard Work
On Being a Dark Lord
Being a Dark Lord is no easy thing, Morden. Often people get in to the Dark Lord business because they think it an easy ride with nothing but conquests (of every type), loot, snappy clothes and fortresses. Well, if that’s what you think it’s all about then do yourself a favour and go do something else, like mugging.
Being a Dark Lord is a hard road to travel down. It’s one where you are constantly swimming upstream. There’s always another mountain to climb. You’ll feel like you’re pissing in the wind; struggling to keep your head above water.
No tired metaphor quite manages to convey just how hard it is being a Dark Lord.
You’re not appreciated at all. People raise armies against you. They go out of their way to slander you and tell lies about your personal life that involve farmyard animals. They’ll try to destroy your armies and bring your fortress crashing down. After all the hard work, it’s so inconsiderate.
Even those who work for you are never happy. They always want more. There’s not enough blood in the world for some.
So why bother you may ask?
Indeed, thought Morden. If the book was trying to put him off the idea of being a Dark Lord, it was doing a good job.
Enough of that thinking, Morden. The fact is you don’t have a choice. It’s like asking a bird why it flies. You are a Dark Lord. It’s what you do. Period. There are times when it will seem like a poor career choice but then you’ll realise it wasn’t a choice in the first place. You were born to rule; born to conquer; born to wear black clothing and terrify all those around you.
So you are a Dark Lord. Get used to it. The only real questions to ask yourself are: How do I be the best Dark Lord this miserable world has ever seen? How can I forge a legacy that will last forever? Shall I go down in history as a death bringer or a privy cleaner?
And once your resolve is set, don’t doubt. Don’t stop believing. Pull on that black robe and show the world who is The Boss. It’s there for the taking.
Have faith, young Morden.
Chapter 15 Bad News
Everything comes from Power.
The Dark Lord’s
Stonearm coughed and his eyes turned to the sky. The surviving orc bandits who had been sneaking a peek at him from their prostrate positions buried their faces back in the dirt.
“What?” said Morden. There was a gust of wind and Morden realised he was stark naked and pinky white once more. He snatched up one of the bigger pieces of the robe that he had torn and wrapped it around his midriff. Grabbing the Handbook from where it had fallen, he scurried to the back of the wagon.
“Sort these men…orcs…out, Stonearm. I’ll be in the wagon.”
As he scrambled into the back of the wagon, Morden could hear Stonearm bark out orders and organise the surviving orc bandits. It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the dimness of the wagon. There were no trade goods, just bows, arrows, cooking gear, hard tack and cold meats, a barrel of beer – that by the smell was not up to the Brothers’ standards – and not much else.
A huge fist thrust in through the back flap. It held an assortment of clothes, mostly clean but with the odd splash of blood.
“I thought these might be useful,” said Stonearm from outside.
The fist released the clothes and the barking commands resumed. Morden got dressed as fast as he could and sat to gather his thoughts. What to do now? So far he’d lost everything, been kidnapped, escaped, been captured, turned into a dragon, escaped. It was hardly what he’d been expecting. Where was the vast army and towering obsidian spires of his mountain fortress? He felt at a complete loss.
His eyes drifted to where he had put down the Handbook.
Well, it couldn’t hurt , he thought, picking the Handbook up and flicking open the cover.
Chapter 14 Third Lesson – Hard Work
On Being a Dark Lord
Being a Dark Lord is no easy thing, Morden. Often people get in to the Dark Lord business because they think it an easy ride with nothing but conquests (of every type), loot, snappy clothes and fortresses. Well, if that’s what you think it’s all about then do yourself a favour and go do something else, like mugging.
Being a Dark Lord is a hard road to travel down. It’s one where you are constantly swimming upstream. There’s always another mountain to climb. You’ll feel like you’re pissing in the wind; struggling to keep your head above water.
No tired metaphor quite manages to convey just how hard it is being a Dark Lord.
You’re not appreciated at all. People raise armies against you. They go out of their way to slander you and tell lies about your personal life that involve farmyard animals. They’ll try to destroy your armies and bring your fortress crashing down. After all the hard work, it’s so inconsiderate.
Even those who work for you are never happy. They always want more. There’s not enough blood in the world for some.
So why bother you may ask?
Indeed, thought Morden. If the book was trying to put him off the idea of being a Dark Lord, it was doing a good job.
Enough of that thinking, Morden. The fact is you don’t have a choice. It’s like asking a bird why it flies. You are a Dark Lord. It’s what you do. Period. There are times when it will seem like a poor career choice but then you’ll realise it wasn’t a choice in the first place. You were born to rule; born to conquer; born to wear black clothing and terrify all those around you.
So you are a Dark Lord. Get used to it. The only real questions to ask yourself are: How do I be the best Dark Lord this miserable world has ever seen? How can I forge a legacy that will last forever? Shall I go down in history as a death bringer or a privy cleaner?
And once your resolve is set, don’t doubt. Don’t stop believing. Pull on that black robe and show the world who is The Boss. It’s there for the taking.
Have faith, young Morden.
Chapter 15 Bad News
Everything comes from Power.
The Dark Lord’s
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