《How to Become a Dark Lord》


 Chapter 2: The Rebirth of a Dark Lord

    The local countryside enjoyed a sunny day on the seventh day of the 4th month, Bloomtide. The chirping of birds filled the air along with the rustling of leaves in the breeze. Amidst a clearing in the woods, a figure materialised nestled in the wildflowers and waist-high grass. The man wore nothing but a strip of black cloth, its frayed edges hanging loosely around his legs, barely functioning as pants. His black unkempt hair was as wild as the flora that surrounded him. The figure lay there for a moment, a stark contrast to the vibrant colours around him. Suddenly Zal¡¯Rodal¡¯s eyes snapped open, his purple pupils adjusting to the light flowing through the ceiling of leaves. The scent of damp earth and blooming wildflowers filled his senses. He wondered how he reached this place, the last thing he remembered was the roaring flames crashing into his body. Yet here he stood, unburnt and breathing.


    Zal¡¯Rodal did not believe that the events he remembered were all part of some sort of bad dream. There was no explanation for why he was sleeping in the middle of a forest. Something strange and out of his control must have happened, something he would have to figure out eventually. However, more importantly, he had to figure out where he was. He looked around the forest taking in every detail. He recognised nothing. There was only one thing to do when lost in a forest, choose a direction and continue walking till he reached its end.


    With no clear path before him, the Dark Lord wandered through the woods, bare feet trampling over grass, root, and stone. The longer he walked the clearer the light became as the trees in his path grew sparse. Before he was finally able to leave the forest, a projectile struck the side of his face, leaving a red mark on his cheek. The weapon in question bounced off his body and onto the floor, the acorn lay at his feet. He glanced around, his dark brows furrowing in indignation. From a high branch, a group of squirrels perched together, their tiny faces quivering with what could only be laughter. One particularly bold offender hefted another acorn, preparing to hurl it in his direction. This was an insult he could not tolerate. He picked up a stone and threw it at the wildlife, causing them to scatter and squeak in panic as they retreated into the woods. That should teach them not to mess with their future overlord.


    Outside the forest, Zal¡¯Rodal was greeted by the familiar sight of the Eberon River and the accompanying countryside. There were the peasants he usually raided sowing their fields which promised another good raid in the future. Wealthy peasants were peasants worth stealing from and he would require a great deal of loot to build up his empire. Having found his bearings the Dark Lord made his way towards the familiar cave hideout. The adventures could have left something there or may even still remain there, the perfect opportunity for an ambush, surely this time he wouldn¡¯t be taken unawares by a fireball. As he approached the place of his demise he began to see the slain bodies of his former minions. Goblins the lot of them, nobody truly worth having around in a fight. He could not remember their names, but then again they were probably just called something like Gluk. He tried to make himself think of the goblins as useless, that¡¯s what a Dark Lord should feel like, but he would miss their silly antics.


    Zal¡¯Rodal approached the cave entrance when he heard a rustling in one of the nearby bushes, he turned to face the threat of the ambushing adventurers but instead was met with a tiny green face covered in tears. The creature erupted from the shrubbery, its fleshy tongue flapping in the wind as it rushed towards him. ¡°Master, Master, youz return for me?¡± Guglak spoke as he threw himself at Zal¡¯Rodal¡¯s feet, ¡°I knewth Master wouldn¡¯t abandon Guglak!¡±As pitiful as he was, the old goblin was a comforting sight for Zal¡¯Rodal. It meant that at least one of his minions was still alive and that his fledgling empire had not been completely destroyed. If he could have hoped for a single survivor it would have been Guglak, truly loyal minions were hard to come by in this sort of business. ¡°Tell me what happened after I disappeared, make it quick.¡± The Dark Lord commanded.


    ¡°Big fire, Master Burn. But Master disappear, saved from big fire, yez, yez!¡± Guglak spat out, ¡°Filthy dventurers, try to steal all the treasure, but Guglak hide with treasure,¡± The old goblin held forth a folded piece of cloth in in which a number of old trinkets were gathered. ¡°I not fight, not strong like Master, but Guglak good, Guglak save treasurez!¡± Zal¡¯Rodal grabbed the treasure out of the goblin¡¯s green claws, his fingers tracing the last remainders of his meagre wealth. He folded the cloth into a sack and stuffed it into the rags he wore as pants. ¡°Guglak?¡± he said.


    ¡°Yez Master? How can I serve?¡± Guglak replied bowing deep. The Dark Lord turned towards the forest again and spoke, ¡°Lead me to more of your brethren, I require more minions if we are to conquer the world. We won¡¯t be able to conquer anything with just us two.¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    ¡°Yez, Master, follow Guglak,¡± the goblin said, hopping eagerly away from the cave entrance. ¡°Forest Goblin, new leader, Uglik,¡± he spat the name out in derision. ¡°Not issue, Master beat Uglik, no issue, yez.¡± He disappeared into the brushes, snapping branches and crunching leaves with every step he took. Losing him would be impossible even for the most incompetent of trackers. Zal¡¯Rodal sighed seeing his servant''s figure disappear into the woods and bent down. He pulled a crude blade from one of his former minion¡¯s lifeless hands. The blade was chipped and uneven, not really something a Dark Lord should be using but it would do for now.


    The forest closed in around them as they trekked deeper into the woods from which Zal¡¯Rodal had just returned. The Dark Lord thought that he knew these woods and their winding paths well but it was clear that there was still undiscovered territory. The forest around them grew darker, hidden from sight from anyone with any sense to them. A sour, acrid stink filled the air, growing stronger with each step. The smell was unmistakable: goblins.


    ¡°Here,¡± Guglak hissed, crouching low and parting a bush with his clawed hands. Zal¡¯Rodal knelt beside him, pushing the branches aside to get a better look. Smoke curled from a fire pit in a small clearing, and the sound of arguing goblins filled the woods. Zal¡¯Rodal¡¯s eyes narrowed as he studied the chaotic scene ahead, his grip tightening on the hilt of his stolen blade. Before them a group of goblins went about their daily chores, skewering and roasting rats, squirrels and any other critter unfortunate enough to cross their path. That¡¯s what they get for throwing acorns. Most of the other goblins spent their time drinking the strange brew they called dlud. The remainder of them seemed to be doing their hardest to bash each other''s skulls in for one affront or another.


    Zal¡¯Rodal looked at his goblin companion¡¯s face which protruded through the leaves to his left and asked, ¡°Which one is Uglik?¡± Guglak pointed a crooked finger at one of the goblins standing near the fire pit. He was taller than most goblins but not as tall as Guglak. The goblin boss wore a suit of armour consisting of disparate pieces of mail held together by a mesh of belts and ropes. Uglik was currently partaking in one of a goblin leader¡¯s favourite pastimes, yelling at subordinates.


    There was no reason to wait. Zal¡¯Rodal emerged out of his hiding spot, the black cloth he was wearing trailing behind him. He put forth the crooked blade and stood straight before the assembled goblins. The Dark Lord was an imposing figure even in his meagre regalia, standing taller than three goblins stacked atop one another. ¡°I Zal¡¯Rodal, challenge you Uglik! Prove that you are capable of leading your brethren, or join me. I shall lead you to destroy our foes and gather great treasures.¡±


    The goblin leader looked at Zal¡¯Rodal, he was about to command his fellow subordinates to swarm the newcomer. He would surely serve as an improved dinner compared to the rats. The goblins however all gathered behind Uglik and pushed him towards the imposing figure. Cowards the lot of them, he thought. He looked at Zal¡¯Rodal and then again at his goblin fellow just to make sure that they would definitely not fight at his side and yelled, ¡°I willz kill youz! We willz feast on youz flesh,¡± the goblin leader charged at Zal¡¯Rodal, crooked blade in hand.


    Zal¡¯Rodal leapt forward to meet the oncoming goblin. The Dark Lord might not be a master swordsman but a goblin would not, could not spell his doom. Uglik jumped to the side as quick as a rabbit, trying to find a blind spot. His blade found purchase in Zal¡¯Rodal¡¯s side as he drew first blood. Zal¡¯Rodal swung his blade in response gracing the top of the goblin¡¯s pointy ears. He immediately followed the swing with a downward stab, the goblin nimbly dodged the blade and struck at the outstretched arm. Zal¡¯Rodal¡¯s arm flared up in pain.


    Zal¡¯Rodal took a step back, trying to create distance between himself and the goblin. Uglik proved himself to be a far stronger adversary than expected. He stretched out his blade following the goblin''s every move. Uglik jumped forward again staying on the right and injured side of his opponent, the goblin kept Zal¡¯Rodal¡¯s blade in sight as it lunged for the killed blow and found himself hoisted in the air. Rough fingers grasped the wiry neck of the goblin who now found himself in the air looking down at Zal¡¯Rodal¡¯s face. He started shaking Uglik till he dropped his blade and then started bashing his own free hand into the goblin''s stomach. Uglik¡¯s eyes bulged with every strike and his mouth opened soundlessly.


    The Dark Lord hoisted the goblin leader once again for all to see. He looked at Uglik one last time before tossing him to the ground before him. The goblin warrior was now a sputtering mess on the forest floor. ¡°I will be your new leader!¡± Zal¡¯Rodal proclaimed, ¡°You do what I say and you will have treasure and food abundant!¡±


    Uglik raised himself off the ground to look at the one who bested him, ¡°yez master, we followz youz, youz bringz shiny to clan.¡±


    ¡°If you follow me, your hands will be overflowing with treasure. We shall start by gathering more of your kin that dwell in this forest. Then we shall raid the villages of men, we will fill our camp with their gold and our stomach with their food! Will you follow me?¡± Zal¡¯Rodal asked the assembled goblins, it was a rhetorical question of course. Anyone who wouldn¡¯t follow would soon find themselves at the wrong end of a blade.

 Chapter 3: Raiding is not for Beginners

    A week had passed since Zal¡¯Rodal¡¯s untimely encounter with the wrong end of a fireball, but he was back ¡ª stronger than he had been in a long time. Over the last week, he had assembled most of the scattered goblin tribes in the forest, rallying them to his side with promises of loot. They would raid the human villages sprawled along the Eberon River. By dusk, his mighty host of over a hundred goblins had gathered at the forest''s edge. Under the cover of night, the goblins would appear as nothing more than shadows in the night, their only giveaway was their smell. The goblins whispered amongst themselves as they observed the village. Although they could not count themselves among the most intelligent of creatures around, they were certainly experienced in quick and silent combat. Any goblin however daft, knew that blaring trumpets and battle horns before a surprise attack would render the attack anything but surprising.


    All the goblin leaders of the forest except for the Greyfangs, had decided to join the raid, swayed by Zal¡¯Rodal¡¯s powers of ¡°persuasion¡±. The goblin leaders gathered in a circle before the Dark Lord. He had appointed Uglik as their commander, and for now, the goblins behaved themselves and listened to Uglik¡¯s strategy. The plan was unsurprisingly, no more complex than rushing in, grabbing whatever their slimy little hands could, and escaping before any proper resistance could be mounted against them.


    The moon had replaced the sun above, and Zal¡¯Rodal took one last look at his army before ordering the attack. He had been made leader of the goblins and ruler of the forest and wore a crown of assorted bones, which the goblins claimed belonged to some great beast. The size of the bones indicated that the great beast could have been no greater than a particularly ferocious squirrel. Goblins, orcs, ogres, and any other of their ilk possessed the ability to see nearly as well in the dark as in broad daylight. While the Dark Lord could not claim to have such a biological advantage he had lived in a cave and marauded through the night long enough to be accustomed to the darkness. Zal¡¯Rodal raised his right hand and swung it forward signalling to the goblins to start their march towards the small farming village in front of them.


    The goblins moved completely unseen, not a single torch was lit and their bodies disappeared amidst the tall grass. If any of the villagers had been keeping a lookout on that night they would have been none the wiser of the approaching foes. Zal¡¯Rodal later heard from the goblins that there had indeed been a watchman about. However, the watchmen had only noticed the goblins after being stabbed in the leg and dragged into the farmland. The goblins stopped their advance as they reached the first houses, waiting for the final order to attack. They could see movement in some of the houses as human shadows passed by the windows. Zal¡¯Rodal made his way to the front, although not as stealthy and certainly not as small as the goblins he moved unseen in his black cloak.


    The village was sprawled out before him. The thatched roofs and wooden walls of the houses were the only thing standing between his goblin horde and treasure. Perhaps the most important building in any goblin raid stood in the village¡¯s centre, the tavern. It was the only place at which food and drink were sure to be found and the wealth of most peasants was spent.


    The goblins streamed into the village, they separated into groups and spread out towards every house and snuck in as the last conversations of the night turned into snoring. The goblins streamed into the village like water over cobblestone, groups verging out into every house and sneaking in as the last conversations of the night subsided into snoring. Zal¡¯Rodal walked into the village with the confidence of victory, if nobody had noticed the goblins by now they wouldn''t see him either. He looked around the village peering into houses and watching his goblins at work. The goblins were stepping carefully into the houses and around the sleeping bodies, dragging out whatever valuables they could find. There was no reason to kill the villagers, only to earn the wrath of a proper army which the Dark Lord could not contest at the moment. He leaned against one of the houses and continued observing.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    He saw a group of goblins lifting each other onto a roof with five of them standing on top of each other and the others climbing atop them. The door to that particular house must have been locked. Other goblins crawled into the space under the houses and emerged from the floorboards underneath the beds of the unassuming villagers. Perhaps the village children would for once be right about their imagined monsters.


    The Dark Lord looked on as more and more goblins were leaving the houses with their loot. He saw an abundance of food in sacks, boxes filled with trinkets, and new purses hanging from the belts of the goblins. The goblins were stowing their earning away in the forest and returning to the village awaiting further orders, for once Zal¡¯Rodal thought himself happy, finally, he was doing something villainous, to rob an entire town blind without anyone being none the wiser. He considered leaving a mark or message behind so that the world would know that it was he who had done this deed.


    While most of the goblins had begun by looting the village houses there were some who had gone directly to the inn. It was by far the largest building in town. Its walls were not made of wood but of stone, and tables and benches were placed already outside the building. The building itself was sure to have enough seating for the entire village. The inn was filled with the smell of spilt ale protruding through the floorboards, and the smoke and roasted meat from the fireplace. The goblins inside immediately went to work, they started raiding the bar, and bottle after bottle disappeared into sacks. They took everything they found not even bothering to read the labels, not that they could have even if they wanted to. They dragged glasses, plates, and any coin they found behind the counter and started streaming in and out of the inn¡¯s front door which from the inside was framed by the head of a dragon.


    Suddenly Zal¡¯Rodal heard a loud crashing sound from the inn and moments later he saw the outline of a goblin flying towards him through the night sky. He took a step to the side and the goblin landed where he had stood just moments before, the goblin¡¯s face quite literally eating the pavement. Zal¡¯Rodal looked in the direction the flying goblin had come from, there was a lonesome figure standing at the inn¡¯s door, his minions fleeing from it in panic. Upon closer inspection the figure belonged to an old man, he was hunched over as if his back could not support him properly anymore. The old man locked eyes with the Dark Lord and an overwhelming sense of dread filled Zal¡¯Rodal. He had seen such people before, they were the worst of the worst. The old man threw aside his cane and reached a hand into a small pouch at his side, from it he pulled a glowing greatsword which he swung one-handed. He chased after the goblins while yelling, ¡°Come back here you green idiots, I¡¯m not done with you yet!¡±


    The old man was an adventurer, the worst sort, a retired one. There were a number of ways adventurers usually retired: Dragon fire, traps, stabbed, beheaded, poisoned, possessed, the list could go on forever. However, old age is not usually part of the discussion on adventurer retirement. Those who did reach such an age usually did so due to their cowardice or after completing countless quests and heroic deeds. The old man did not seem the cowardly type.


    If Zal¡¯Rodal and his goblins knew one thing it was not to mess with an adventure like the one before them. The goblins sounded the alarm and started rushing out of the village, scrambling from underneath beds, jumping through windows, crashing through thin walls, and doing anything in their power to escape with whatever loot they could carry. The Dark Lord followed his goblins out of the village, it is unknown how many goblins were lost to the adventurer that day, however, the reports of goblins raining from the sky and crashing to the ground around the village seemed to follow them for days.


    They fled through the fields carrying their loot slung across their shoulders till they reached the edge of the forest where they added their loot to the growing pile. It was the largest amount of wealth that many of them had seen in their lives, Zal¡¯Rodal himself hadn¡¯t seen this much loot since the adventurers had thrown him out of his original citadel of darkness. Of course, their wealth would have been even greater if there had not been such strong opposition. However, it was a good start, a great start considering the limited success that goblin raids usually had around these parts.

 Chapter 4: New Beginnings

    Not since the Dark Ages¡ªor, as the humans call it, the Age of Heroes¡ªhas such a goblin host been assembled.


    The morning after the raid was a loud one. Chaos and celebration filled the forest as goblins divided the previous night''s loot amongst themselves and indulged in their usual mischief. The assembled goblin was by far the largest the forests of Eberon had the displeasure of hosting in decades. Goblins, by nature, are nomadic and disorganised, roaming clans that did their best not to cooperate with one another. To lead a goblin army a strong hand was required, someone who could harness their chaotic energy and apply it for more useful purposes.


    In ancient times, goblins were even known to crown kings amongst their own kind, though such occurrences have long since been buried in the sands of time. In recent memory, goblin armies have typically been led by leaders of non-goblin descent, most notably, Dark Lords who have always relied on goblin hordes as a staple to any army of darkness. The leaders of goblin armies in recent memory were usually not of goblin descent, Dark Lords throughout the years have made it a habit to amass goblins for their armies. Goblins have also been found to be led by greater green-skins such as orcs and ogres. Not since the Dark Ages, or, as the humans call it, the Age of Heroes, has such a goblin host been assembled to attack a human settlement.


    Zal¡¯Rodal¡¯s army now numbered several hundred goblins as those unsure of this upstart leader joined his rank during the night. He divided the spoils of battle evenly into six parts: one-sixth for each of the five goblin clans that had joined him, and one for himself.  The time in which the goblins would personally hand over their loot to him and be content with mere service had not yet come, and keeping the goblins happy was a priority. Content goblins were cooperative goblins, or at least less likely to stab each other over a rat carcass.


    Pushing aside the tent flaps, Zal¡¯Rodal stepped into the camp, and the chatter of goblins hushed for a brief moment. Their new leader was a sight to behold: taller and stronger than any goblin, wielding a weapon that spoke of strength and authority. Goblins were inherently sceptical, even of their own kind, but they respected power, treasure, and the ability to deliver both. Zal¡¯Rodal, for now, embodied these traits.


    Inside the hastily erected command tent, the Dark Lord surveyed his surroundings. The structure was a shoddy thing of old leather and stolen cloth. While not approaching anything that could be construed as grandeur, it still made it clear to the goblins sleeping on the forest who was in charge. He dressed himself in simple clothing stolen from the village, a white tunic and  brown breeches that were hidden under his tattered cloak. Though the clothes were hardly intimidating they were practical and provided some amount of comfort.


    Pushing aside the tent flaps, Zal¡¯Rodal stepped into the camp, and the chatter of goblins hushed for a brief moment. It was clear to the goblins that they had a new leader, a leader who was taller and stronger than any goblin. Goblins are inherently sceptical, even of their own kind, but they had an open spot in their hearts and minds for someone who provided shiny things to them. And Zal¡¯Rodal had brought these goblins more treasure in a single night than several months of ambushes and thievery.


    He approached the central campfire, where goblins immediately scurried out of his way, leaving the prime seat by the fire vacant for their master. The smell of roasting meat greeted him¡ªproper food, stolen cattle from the raid. He grabbed a chunk and bit into it thoughtfully, already planning his next move. Guglak soon appeared, his lanky frame juggling a flagon and a drinking horn.


    ¡°Master, Master,¡± Guglak croaked, presenting the horn with exaggerated care. ¡°Not goblin dlud but humanz ale!¡±


    He approached the central campfire, and the goblins immediately scurried out of his way, leaving the seat by the fire to their new master. The smell of proper meat roasting on the fire was something he could get used to. There was no rat or squirrel on a stick in sight, instead, the goblins were roasting a cow they had herded away during the raid. He grabbed himself a portion of the roast and pondered his next move. Guglak approached soon after, he was juggling a large flagon and a drinking horn between his arms. Stolen novel; please report.


    ¡°Master, Master,¡± Guglak croaked, presenting the horn with exaggerated care. ¡°Not goblin dlud but humanz ale!¡± He began pouring a glass of golden ale.


    Zal¡¯Rodal raised an eyebrow at the offering. Goblins did not appreciate the fine art of drinking, which mostly meant they drank their own vile concoction they called dlud instead of anything decent. He was still unsure what exactly made dlud, dlud. All he knew was that he didn¡¯t want to find out. This ale, on the other hand, was a welcome improvement. Taking a cautious sip, he found it surprisingly good. He drained the horn and extended it for more. Guglak grinned, eager to please.


    While enjoying his drink he continued his pondering. Raiding and looting small villages in the night was all well and good but before trying anything larger he needed a base of operations. Something better than an improvised tent in the middle of a forest. He needed a fortified position to hide his loot from anyone who would come after it. His thoughts turned to an abandoned castle at the northern edge of the forest, nestled against the mountains. It was isolated, surrounded by forest and a perfect place to hide.


    Before the day was over Zal¡¯Rodal had convened with the goblin leaders and convinced them of the shiny benefits of continued cooperation.  The dissent within the group was currently rather low,  food and treasure seemed to remove the need to stab one another for the most part. Four of the five tribes decided to follow Zal¡¯Rodal to the castle, the fifth, the Green Talon Tribe, however, chose to remain in the forest they had always called their home. The Dark Lord permitted this under the condition that they handed over a portion of their earnings to him and joined him in battle if called upon. He knew the castle wasn¡¯t too large and reducing the number of goblins trashing his new base didn¡¯t seem like such a terrible idea.


    The mountain range was commonly referred to as the peaks of Dornon, named after the dragon that once inhabited the area.  The dragon¡¯s disappearance remained a mystery to this day, the most common theory was that it simply starved after a rockslide sealed its lair, others believed it left merely in search of a new home, while the most foolish claimed that one of their ancestors had slain the great beast. If anyone had actually killed a dragon they would be known as a hero of incredible renown and would not be delegated to being some forgotten ancestor. Today the only evidence of Dornon ever residing in these parts was the flattened peak at the highest summit, destroyed in one of the dragon¡¯s many rampages.


    The trees started growing scarce in the distance revealing a clear path out of the forest. He hastened his step, eager to be out of the woods. Guglak rushed after him, his small stumpy legs struggling with the fallen trees and heavy shrubbery. The goblins that had been directly behind him also attempted to follow the heightened pace set by their leader. They dropped whatever they were carrying to keep up. Leaving it to other goblins to pick up their loot, sure in the knowledge that they could beat up anyone who wouldn¡¯t return their stuff. For the most part, goblins enjoyed forests, not for their idyllic natural calmness but rather because they provided an ideal place for ambushes and hiding places. Goblins, however, were not particularly fond of walking through a forest especially not for long amounts of time, in fact, goblins hated doing anything for any amount of time, except for eating, killing, and looting of course.


    With the sun setting behind his back Zal¡¯Rodal finally set his eyes on the old castle, his horde of goblins trailing behind him through the thicket. It was not the imposing fortress of his dreams, in fact, it did not come close to his old citadel that he lost in the Dark Ages. The walls were crumbling, with gaping holes revealing the courtyard they were supposed to guard. The gatehouse lacked its most important aspect, a gate, and its roof was completely rotten away and had broken into itself. It was more a ruin than a refuge, but it still beat a tent in the woods.


    A Dark Lord knew that there was no shame in starting off small. Many famous Dark Lords had started with less than he had now. On second thought, these Dark Lords had all died, so perhaps he should not follow their lead. His rise to power was going along better than he expected especially after the fireball incident. One goblin had turned into hundreds, and a dirty old cave had become a dirty old castle. According to his calculations, if he progressed at the same pace he should soon rule these lands.  These grand thoughts were quickly shaken from his mind as a section of the wall crumbled into dust before his eyes. ¡°This will take some work¡­¡±

 Chapter 5: The Citadel of Disrepair

    The Dark Lord stood upon the ramparts of his newly acquired castle, a sense of pride filled him as he looked over the lands that he now considered to be his own. The ground beneath his feet seemed to shake with every gust of mountain wind striking the old walls. He placed his hands against the parapets and closed his eyes, feeling the wind blowing through his hair and lifting his cloak behind him. It would have been a peaceful moment if not for the ruckus the goblins were making at every hour of day and night.


    Atop the walls, Zal¡¯Rodal had a good view of the work his minions were doing. He could see the goblins marching into the deep forests surrounding the castle and coming back with lumber. Most of the goblins carried small blocks of wood on their shoulders, while the goblins with something between their ears had made rickety wheelbarrows and carriages to transport their goods. They required wood, not only for repairs but to withstand the winter without half of them perishing to the cold. Larger pieces of wood were used to repair both the gate and the hole that was currently making his walls rather worthless. The Dark Lord anxiously awaited the day in which minions would be able to work as masons without breaking most of their work in the process.


    The goblins were hard at work, swinging their improvised axes and sawing logs in the courtyard to the rhythm of what they claimed to be music. The sound of working goblins was the only thing filling the castle grounds in the past days, the disparate tribes had split their work evenly amongst themselves without too many split skulls. The Blackhook tribe had particularly surprised him with their ingenuity, they had been put in charge of most of the transportation of logs and raw resources. He could see some of the goblins split smaller branches from the trees and placed them under the logs to be transported and simply rolled the logs up the hill. He was glad to know that not every goblin under his charge was completely inept.


    The Steward and supervisor of all castle repairs, food gathering, and stopping of fights, was of course Guglak. The old goblin was no master organiser but that did not stop him from rushing back and forth between the different tribes and yelling at them to work harder, this method had surprisingly positive effects on efficiency. Perhaps it wasn¡¯t the most optimal way to manage a workforce, but it worked well enough for Zal¡¯Rodal. He had more important things to do than running around personally and getting into screaming matches with his minions. The Dark Lord had to dedicate his attention to more important matters, such as future raids, and the possible imminent attack by the mountain-dwelling creatures which his scouts claimed lived in the mountains facing the castle.


    The creatures were one of the reasons he wanted the castle defences to be ready sooner rather than later. His scouts had not reported any outright hostile behaviour for the moment but he wasn¡¯t willing to risk that changing. The reports claimed the creatures to have a furry exterior and a size not much larger than a goblin, they were sighted using tools made of stone or crude iron, all in all, they were not so different to the goblins in that aspect. Regardless if anyone wished to live in these parts they would have to accept the new Dark Lord¡¯s authority. He couldn¡¯t allow anyone to oppose his rule in his newly acquired lands.


    Zal¡¯Rodal had other things on his mind apart from the mountainous creatures. Some goblins working inside that castle had found the entrance to a dungeon or at least a staircase leading down into absolute darkness. Before he focused on possible external threats it was best to make sure that his own domain was secure. Zal¡¯Rodal was realising once again that being a Dark Lord entailed more than only bringing death and darkness upon the land. Ruling mostly involved a mix of logistics, management, leadership, and ¡°people¡± skills. If he expanded further he would have to appoint generals and powerful servants to do some of the heavy lifting of ruling individual territories, just as Dark Lords had done in the past. He couldn¡¯t be expected to micromanage the world. He had left the managerial duties to Guglak, but he wasn¡¯t quite what one would call a general of darkness, however, he did his job well enough for the moment. Stolen story; please report.


    He left his post at the wall and brushed the dirt of his hands and sleeves. He took another satisfied glance at his goblins working hard on the various repairs before he made his way down into the courtyard. He moved down the stairs carefully as another slab of stone wobbled dangerously with every step. He made his way into the castle¡¯s main hall passing various goblin pairs operating handsaws and singing. ¡°Saw, saw, saw, rats for breakzfaz, rats for dinner, dlud after, happy life!¡± The goblins screeched as they worked. Zal¡¯Rodal did not have to open a door as one of the double doors to the keep was simply missing. He immediately felt the temperature increase as he stepped inside. He was out of the brunt of the wind and could enjoy the warmth of the various fires burning in the hall.


    The goblins greeted and saluted him with their screeches as he walked deeper into the hall. He grabbed a torch from one of the walls and made his way past the dais situated at the end of the hall. Usually, this part of the hall would be filled by a throne, or a dining table for the lord¡¯s family looking over the entire hall. However, this dais was nothing more than a raised wooden platform. From the platform one could see the entirety of the hall, which was currently filled with piles of assorted treasure and various pots, stirring up what the goblins had scrounged up for dinner.


    The entrance into the dungeon that the goblins had reported was situated behind the dais at the very far end of the hall. The goblins had moved a large slab of stone which left an opening in the ground leading directly to an old staircase headed deeper into the mountain. He took the first steps into the darkness with his torch held high illuminating the steps before him. The tunnel was in a much better state than the rest of the castle presumably because nothing had reached this place until now. The walls around him weren¡¯t crumbling, the steps were solid and unmoving. The only thing that the staircase had in common with the castle was its complete abandonment.


    Zal¡¯Rodal continued his descent deeper into the mountain, when he looked back he could no longer see the lights from the main hall pouring into the staircase. Not much later he was faced with a large wooden door which blocked his path forwards. He took a moment to investigate the door and frame in search of traps and when he felt satisfied with the door''s safety he pushed against it. The door immediately crumbled under his touch becoming nothing more than a bunch of mouldy planks on the floor and raising a large cloud of dust. Beyond the broken door, a large hall was revealed. It bore some similarities to the main hall above but was far grander. Great pillars lined the sides of the walls, three or four steps apart from one another, all leading the Dark Lord¡¯s gaze directly at the stone throne in the centre of the hall. He took some steps towards the throne while taking in his surroundings. Old tattered banners from from each of the pillars, their sigils and colours unrecognisable as the passage of time forced them to fade. The floor was covered in dust and the fire pits emitted not even a sliver of warmth.


    He seated himself on the stone throne, crossed his legs and placed his arms on the sides of the throne. He felt like a ruler now. Zal¡¯Rodal imagined his underling in front of him awaiting his order. The hall, illuminated by large fires and torches, the old banners being replaced by his own. This was a place from which he could rule, although this was surely someone before him had thought, he wondered what had become of them.  Emerging form his thoughts, he decided to continue his exploration. The larger this dungeon turned out to be, the larger the future seat of his power would be.

 Chapter 6: Dungeons Deep

    Zal¡¯Rodal dove deeper into the dungeon''s entrails, he explored every nook and cranny that he had access to, he would have to send out some goblins to scamper down some of the smaller tunnels. The dungeon was filled with various rooms: Bedrooms, torture chambers, armouries, pantries, treasuries, and many more. Unfortunately, nothing that was left in any of the rooms could be considered usable. It had been too long since anybody had lived in these halls. Fortunately, everything was in a state that made restoration possible, he was determined to conquer the lands around the castle and bring enough riches into the dungeon to replace and expand on anything that was lost. The Dark Lord delved deeper down the tunnels poking with his torch at everything that seemed suspicious. He had heard reports of adventurers being eaten by furniture within dungeons, especially chests. Zal¡¯Rodal did not plan to join them in such a pathetic death. A Dark Lord was not to be eaten by furniture, no matter how sentient it may be.


    He had explored the dungeon for hours when he reached the last unexplored door. The door was made of black steel and appeared unaffected by the passage of time, especially in comparison to the rest of the dungeon. Zal¡¯Rodal pushed against the door, but it did not budge even after placing the full weight of his body against it. He looked around to see if any of his goblins had followed and when he was sure he was alone took some steps back and readied himself. He sprinted against the door launching himself shoulder first against the steel and with a loud thunderous booming sound the door and himself flew into the room.


    Looking up from his prone position he noticed that the room was different, the furniture was not completely broken down and rotten for one. He stood up brushing the dust of his body and inspected his surroundings. The walls were lined with shelves filled to the brim with books of all sorts. The floor was covered in strange runes forming a magic circle which he decided he should step out of. The magic circle glowed in a faint red light but was otherwise non-reactive. Zal¡¯Rodal had of course dabbled in the magical arts as any Dark Lord had but he was far from an expert in such matters, although he remembered most magical circles were used to summon something or someone. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the shimmering light of a silver metal piece that poked out of a leather satchel placed next to a pile of books. He approached the satchel, removed one of the metal pieces and moved it between his fingers while inspecting it. The metal in his hands looked very much like a piece of mage metal or as it was most commonly known Visapis. The metal acted as a storage pool of magical energy, it was used by mages to cast spells if they required large amounts of magical power or their own had run out. With the contents of the sack he would be able to cast spells, perhaps even activate the summoning circle in the room.


    He looked at the books on the desk to see if any of them pertained to summoning magic as he reached out towards the books a hand shot out from underneath the pile and grabbed his forearm. The hand was a monstrous mixture of bone and flesh, the light of the torch was not enough to reveal it fully. ¡°Who are you?¡± a voice drier than any dessert spoke. A body connected to the hand still holding onto him rose amidst the pile of books, rotten flesh hanging from ancient bones. Books cascaded off the body as it stood at its full height. ¡°Are you Mernur? Have you returned to me, my lord?¡± the question was spoken in a whisper but the creature''s voice carried itself across the room.


    ¡°I am Zal¡¯Rodal, the new ruler of this place. Surrender yourself to me and I will allow you the privileges of serving a new master,¡± he said, using his other arm to release himself from the creature''s grip. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    The creature fell to its knees and wailed, ¡°You have not returned then my master?¡± its words not directed at anyone in the room, ¡°Have you truly forsaken me?¡± the creature then turned its gaze at Zal¡¯Rodal. ¡°I swore to protect this pace from intruders, leave now and I shall spare you!¡±


    ¡°Spare me?¡± he asked incredulously, looking at the mangled creature of flesh and bone before him, ¡°if anyone is going to spare someone it will be me.¡±


    With surprising speed, the creature raised its hand towards Zal¡¯Rodal, immediately three bolts of purple fire formed in its rotten palm and were immediately fired at the Dark Lord. He managed to dodge the first two ducking them as they flew above his head, the third bolt, however, struck him in the shoulder causing him to recoil. Zal¡¯Rodal retreated some steps further, still wary of magicians after his previous encounter with one. The creature spread out its arms and a circle of purple flames erupted in the room, tendrils of flames shooting out and scorching his flesh with every touch. He retreated further, stepping backwards until his back hit the end of the rooms and the flames grew ever closer.


    He turned away from the bright flames and saw he was next to a bookshelf. It took him only an instant to recognise a tome that could get him out of this scenario. He grabbed an old book bound in red leather, the title of which made him shudder, it had only been days since he last had to deal with its contents. The book was simply titled, Fireball, and he intended to use it. He ripped open the book and started chanting its contents, the creature''s face was distorted in fear.


    As he approached the final words of the magical chant he rushed forward and launched the book at the creature''s skull. The heavy spellbook impacted with a loud thud and landed on the grimy floor. Immediately the flames subsided and the creature dove after the book removing it from the floor. ¡°Do not destroy my treasures!¡± it yelled as it clutched the book to its chest, no longer paying attention to Zal¡¯Rodal. The Dark Lord rushed forward and with a single strike of his fist separated the undead creature''s head from its body. The head fell to the ground rolling until it hit the far wall. ¡°I hate mages,¡± Zal¡¯Rodal muttered to himself.


    Having destroyed his opponent he turned his attention back towards the bookshelves, he was sure there had to be something relating to the magic circle under him. He spotted a number of interesting titles ranging from the management of kingdoms and armies, magical spells, and the proper way to make an omelette which apparently did not include eggs. His search ended when he found a book on summoning in the pile the creature was hiding in. He flipped through the pages until he found the summoning ritual that required the most magical energy and returned his attention to the magic circle. He held the Visapis in one hand while holding the ritual book in the other and started chanting. The metal started glowing violently in his hands, releasing its magical energy into the circle. The magic circle started glowing brighter as the chant continued. When he spoke the last word of the chant the Visapis turned to dust in his hands as the last sliver of magical energy disappeared from within it. The magical circle emitted a bright light and then covered the room in fog.


    As the fog dissipated, Zal¡¯Rodal looked around the room but did not find anyone or anything new. He asked himself if the summoning had failed. Perhaps he didn¡¯t have enough magical energy for the ritual? Did he make a mistake in the chant?


    ¡°Ahem,¡± a low voice resounded. Zal¡¯Rodal looked around trying to find the source of the voice without success. ¡°Down here,¡± the voice said. The Dark Lord looked down and saw the creature he had summoned. He had envisioned a great warrior or hellish beast, instead, he had summoned an animal, and not a particularly frightening one at that. He stood in front of a ferret with black fur and little horns growing from behind its ears, the ferret also sported a black hat with a white feather and wore a matching jacket. As it noticed that its presence had been acknowledged it gave a slight bow of its head and spoke again, ¡°Migaal, at your service. Oh, my Darknificence.¡±

 Chapter 7: The Demon of Presence

    Zal¡¯Rodal looked at the summoned demon with disappointment. He had imagined something bigger, grander. Nobody would be running in fear from a ferret. The fact that the ferret dressed well wouldn¡¯t change that. Regardless of his desire to summon a great battle demon he had run out of Visapis for now and it would be a waste to dismiss the little creature outright. The Dark Lord bent down and looked at the ferret.


    ¡°Who did you say you were again?¡±


    ¡°I am Migaal, the demon of presence,¡± the ferret bowed, using one of its paws to hold the hat in place, ¡°how can I be of service?¡±


    He knew that demons were usually divided into different specialisations. The main demonic attributes, of course, revolve around wrath, greed, gluttony, and the usual demon stuff. However, other demons focused on more niche terrains, he once met a demon specialising in paper cuts, a nasty bugger. Migaal¡¯s specialisation was presence, the ability to be noticed, to be imposing and respectable. A complete lack of presence would result in an individual''s highest ambition turning to nothingness. One could not hope to become more than a speck of dust on a wall, but even a speck of dust had some presence as people noticed it to wipe it away.


    ¡°What can you do then? I haven¡¯t heard of a demon of presence, which means you can¡¯t be very important?¡±


    ¡°I shall pretend not to have heard that. You have probably heard about some of my cousins in Demonkind, who are much more famous than I am. However, I will let you know that without me, none of them would be noticed. I am that which makes you stand out, which others take notice of. With me by your side, there won¡¯t be anyone to mistake you for nothing else than the one in charge, a Dark Lord.¡± The ferret gave another bow and took some steps back.


    ¡°What will you do? Will people magically start looking at me because I have you around? I think a regular ferret would already be enough to focus attention on myself.¡±


    ¡°May I give a demonstration of my abilities,¡± Migaal asked and waited till Zal¡¯Rodal gave a court nod, ¡°I have been recently summoned so do not expect too much of me yet, but I have enough power to make some slight improvements,¡± Migaal waved his paws in front of himself in a small circle and pointed directly at the Dark Lord.


    The room was once again filled with a magical fog completely enveloping Zal¡¯Rodal. The fog enveloped Zal¡¯Rodal, transforming his ragged appearance into that of a true ruler. Black boots, tailored clothing, and styled hair replaced his tattered garb and unkempt look, erasing the grime of the road.


    The ferret looked him up and down admiring his work with a satisfied smile, ¡°One of my finer works I¡¯d say. A larger challenge than I am used to, but a satisfying result nonetheless,¡± he walked closer to Zal¡¯Rodal to stand at his side, his front paws never touching the ground beneath. With another flick of his paw, a large mirror appeared in front of them. Zal¡¯Rodal looked at it in awe, he hadn¡¯t looked presentable in a long time, and he no longer looked like some bandit leader barely scraping by. He instead felt like a true ruler, he now even looked the part.


    Zal¡¯Rodal spun a little to the sides trying to see the full extent of the ferret¡¯s magic. ¡°Perhaps you aren¡¯t as useless as I had taken you for.¡±


    ¡°It is good to see my new master isn¡¯t a complete fool?¡±


    ¡°So you are saying that I am somewhat of a fool?¡±


    Migaal raised his eyebrows at that while looking upwards at his master, ¡°Did you see what you were wearing?¡± the ferret said crossing its paws, ¡°you wouldn¡¯t catch me dead with any of that stuff on.¡±


    ¡°It was the best I could find!¡±


    ¡°Ah, ah, ah, no excuses, but do not fret,¡± he interrupted, ¡°I am here now and there shall be no more crimes against attire while I am around.¡± Migaal started walking towards the exit in what seemingly looked like the tips of his toes. ¡°Anyways, come then, we must leave this place. It is far too dirty for anyone who is anyone to be standing around in. Zal¡¯Rodal made his way to join the demon at the entrance of the room. Once he reached the door frame, Migaal scampered up his body and perched himself on Zal¡¯Rodal¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Straighten your back, you are not some goblin,¡± Migaal commanded, ¡°that¡¯s better, now take some larger steps, walk with purpose. But not too large, we don¡¯t want to seem like we are in a hurry,¡± he scrutinised his master till he was satisfied and stretched himself out between the two shoulders, ¡°that is much better.¡± Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°You are starting to get on my nerves.¡±


    ¡°If stepping on nerves is what¡¯s required to make something out of you, then so be it. I shall advise until you tire of my services,¡± Migaal reprimanded. ¡°Shall we continue? A Dark Lord should always be doing something or at least appear as if that is the case. Standing in a dusty hallway is not what we should spend our time with.¡±


    ¡°I think I know how to act like a Dark Lord, you don¡¯t have to tell me these things.¡±


    ¡°My Darknificence, you do not think. You know, if you wish to say something say it and say it with conviction or don¡¯t say it all.¡±


    ¡°Shut up!¡±


    ¡°As you wish,¡± the ferret gave a small bow and remained quiet. Migaal smiled to himself and remained silent as they continued their trip through the now-cleared dungeon. Zal¡¯Rodal¡¯s dark figure moved through the empty halls until he returned to the throne room. He sat down on the throne and began pondering what should do next. It would take time to repair and tidy to castle and dungeon, he would have time to investigate the mountainous creatures personally, and perhaps he could lead another raid. He required more treasure, of course, but his goblins also needed tools and weapons which preferably were not made by their own clumsy hands. Most importantly he would need food for the winter, he remembered a former Dark Lord saying that an army could not run on an empty stomach, ironically he died of starvation in some hole.


    He sat there thinking, leaning against one side of the throne, his head resting on his fist. Migaal scurried off his shoulders and moved swiftly across the room inspecting the state of the hall. He moved to the old fire pits within the throne room and placed his hands inside and they were once again filled with new wood and coal. He then opened his mouth and sputtered out a small burst of flame, lighting the pits and illuminating the throne room. The great pillars now cast long shadows all the way to the entrance. Migaal moved back towards Zal¡¯Rodal and waved his hands around him. The tattered banners disappeared and instead, new banners unfurled in their place. A black field with a white skull adorned by a spiked crown and a sword passing below the symbols. ¡°Now you must only ask your servants to pass a broom around this place and I¡¯d say it could even become liveable.


    ¡°Did you not mention that you hadn¡¯t the magical energy to amount to much at the moment?¡±


    ¡°What I have done is but a simple spell, your Darknificence. To create small objects and frivolities is not a challenge for a higher demon. There are simply things I refuse to partake in, the scrubbing of floors for one. I do however believe that a warm fire is beneficial to not only the aesthetic of the throne room but also to my well-being. The added vision of course made the horrendous banners more obvious so that had to be changed as well. I do not wish for others to think we live in some abandoned cave.


    Zal¡¯Rodal and Migaal continued discussing the finer points of being a Dark Lord. He continued sitting on his throne looking around the throne room while Migaal paced in front of him giving another lecture on the proper way to kick a goblin across a field. The lecturing stopped as they heard the echoing of footsteps coming from the entrance to the dungeon. Tiny footsteps, unrecognisable to all except those very familiar with the movement of goblins.  A person could do worse than spending every waking hour around goblins, but not much worse.


    A large shadow covered the hallways, as the torchlight illuminated the goblin from behind. Perhaps this would have been a frightening sight if not for the knowledge of the shadow''s origin. Guglak emerged from the tunnel, bent over and out of breath. The old goblin looked around the throne room, his head spinning as he made his way towards the throne. The goblin too had expected to find a grimy and filthy place, but to his eyes, it seemed to be in excellent condition. Guglak did not care that a thick layer of dust still covered the floor, to be precise he didn¡¯t notice it.


    ¡°Master, this place is wonderful,¡± Guglak said and bowed, then turned his attention to his master¡¯s new companion ¡°Who is the ratz, can we eat it? No fresh meatz around,¡± he eyed the ferret with desire, ¡°our hunterz not great at, ¡°Guglak pondered for a moment, ¡°hunting! Yez not great¡±


    ¡°Welcome to my new throne room. It is good you came Guglak I will need you to send for some of the goblins to clean this place up,¡± Zal¡¯Rodal ignored the goblin''s comments pertaining to the eating of Migaal till he received an angry look from the ferret, ¡°and no, you may not eat the ferret. In fact, he is a demon of, quite considerable talent.¡±


    Guglak eyed the Migaal with distrust, ¡°Very well Master. I bring newz, adventurers in the forest, yez, yez. Looking for uz! We should ambush adventurers, kill them! Steal their shiny rocks!¡±