Dark Lord, School's Out

by Jamie Thomson

  The Dark Lord nodded. “Yes, I see them. Elves too, by the look of it. Not many though. We shall drive them off.”

  Sooz frowned. “How?” she said.

  “Abrakulax can slay many with his fiery breath, and I shall use the ravening power of the Ring to kill many more. They’ll be running for their lives in seconds!!” said the Dark One with obvious relish.

  “No!” said Sooz.

  The Dark Lord Dirk turned and stared at her. “No? What do you mean, no?”

  “We don’t have to kill them,” said Sooz desperately. “You could blast the ground near them, burn their tents with Dragon breath, they’ll get the message and flee anyway. After all, you’re so tough and strong that they’re scared of you already!”

  “Ha, true, but where’s the fun in that? What’s the point?” said the Dark Lord.

  “Please, Dirk. I mean the Great Dirk, my Lord, my Dark Lord, please, just for me? Will you spare them, please?” said Sooz imploringly.

  The Dark Lord Dirk frowned. “Spare them? Well …” He looked down, rubbing his chin. Then he turned to look at Sooz. For a moment his face took on a look of feral bloodlust, but then the insanity in his eyes faded.

  “Oh, all right, just for you, my little Vampire,” he said. With that, he turned and whispered into Abrakulax’s ear. The Dragon banked, swooping down over the besieging army’s camp. Out of his mouth came a great roaring blast of flame, setting fire to tents, wooden towers and carts, and storage pens.

  Hundreds of figures boiled out of the tents like little ants, running and screaming in terror. The Dark Lord unleashed powerful bolts of energy from his Ring, blowing holes in the earth, and knocking people to the ground. The Dragon and its dark rider flew back and forth, dealing out destruction, plunging the encampment into chaos.

  The Dark Lord began to laugh maniacally—he was having fun. Christopher and Sooz clung on behind, trying not to fall off as the Dragon banked and wheeled. The army below began to break and run, streaming away westward in a chaotic riot of terrified men. Sooz grinned happily—they’d been driven off and with hardly anyone getting hurt, as far as she could see—just like the last time she had liberated the Tower.

  The Dark One whispered again in the Dragon’s ear, and it swooped down toward the Iron Tower. As they drew near, the gargoyle heads above the Gates of Doom looked up.

  “Is that the Dark Lord himself?” said one of the heads.

  “Yeah! On the back of the Dragon King,” rasped another.

  “Now there’s something you don’t see every day,” said the first.

  Abrakulax thudded into the ground in front of the gates, almost throwing Chris and Sooz off in the process. Gingerly they slid off its back, sore from their roller-coaster ride through the sky.

  “Thank you, beautiful Dragon,” whispered Sooz. The Dragon bowed its regal head to her.

  “The Dark Lord has returned from exile! All hail the Dark Lord!” shrieked the gargoyle heads.

  Lord Dirk stepped down from the back of the dragon. “Hmm, I see you took care of the paint job, Sooz. Well done,” he said. He leaned down to chuck her under the chin again, but she turned away, scowling.

  The Dark Lord put his hands on his hips. “Don’t you get all huffy with me, little girl,” he said. But then the Dragon King gave a great roar. Dirk turned to the dragon. “My thanks, Abrakulax, you have served me well. You are free!” he said regally. The Dragon King gave another roar and took to the skies.

  And then the Gates of Doom opened.

  “All hail the Dark Lord,” screamed the gargoyles.

  “Oh, be quiet,” said the Dark Lord Dirk as he strode toward the Gates.

  “Yes, my Lord,” said one of the heads.

  “We’ll be quiet,” said another. “I promise.”

  The Dark One stopped and put his horned head in his hands. “By the Nether Gods, I’d forgotten how irritating you were!”

  Then some figures emerged from the Tower.

  “Gargon!” said the Dark Lord, smiling. Dirk the Dark Lord frowned, thinking to himself. Smiling? What’s the matter with me? I’m smiling. At Gargon, of all people!

  Gargon stepped forward. Behind him were Agrash and Skabber. Agrash was half cowering behind Gargon’s thick legs. Behind them stood Rufino the Paladin. He looked over at Sooz and waved. Sooz nodded and waved back. Then he looked up at the Dark Lord, concern written all over his face.

  Gargon too looked at Sooz. He nodded, and smiled his sulfurous smile. Then he looked up at the Dark Lord, somewhat fearfully, and dropped to one knee. Sooz had never seen Gargon scared before. Ever. That worried her.

  “Welcome, Master, to your realm! We have guarded it as best we could during your exile!”

  The Dark Lord nodded. “And who is this?” he said, pointing at Rufino.

  Gargon looked around shiftily for a moment. “Ah …that is Rufino. An ally.”

  “A friend,” said Skabber Stormfart.

  “An ally? A friend? Orcs don’t have friends, you deluded simpleton!”

  Skabber blinked, totally tongue-tied in the face of the Dark Lord’s anger.

  Then the Dark Lord spoke silkily, like the calm before a storm. “And we ally with paladins now, do we?”

  Gargon could read these signs. Trouble was coming.

  “It was your betrothed, Master!” said Gargon, quickly. “Queen Sooz, she make peace, Lord! We only do what the Dark Mistress tell us, my Lord!”

  “She spoke with your voice, had your Ring, your Imperial Darkness,” piped up Agrash from behind Gargon’s legs. “She made us ally with the paladin!”

  Sooz frowned. Talk about ratting her out—right away too, without even thinking about it! Some friends.

  “It was the right thing to do,” said Sooz. “We needed time to regroup.”

  “That is correct, your Mightiness,” said Agrash, finding some backbone at last. “In fact, the Dark Lady took the Tower with only a handful of Goblins! We were terribly weak. We had to buy time. She did well!”

  That made Sooz feel a little better. But then Rufino stepped forward. “They are right, Dark One! I am the Paladin Rufino of the Order of the Unicorn. I have sworn to serve Queen Sooz, for she has taught us a new way to live, a way of peace and harmony. You should continue with this policy, for …”

  “Silence!” said the Dark Lord, raising a taloned hand. “Take him to the Dungeons of Doom. I will interrogate him later.”

  Rufino blinked in shock. Gargon shuffled his feet. Skabber Stormfart looked around uncomfortably.

  “TAKE HIM TO THE DUNGEONS, NOW!!!” shrieked the Dark Lord at the top of his voice. “OR BY THE NINE NETHERWORLDS I WILL EVISCERATE HIM WITH THE CLAW OF RIPPING DEATH! AND ANYONE ELSE WHO DOESN’T JUMP TO IT RIGHT NOW!”

  Gargon blinked. He gestured with a hand. “Take him to the Dungeons, Skabber.”

  Rufino frowned and reached for his sword.

  The Dark Lord Dirk smiled at that. “Go on,” he said. “Try it, you puny human! I’d love to peel the flesh from your bones, I really would!” he said.

  “Noo!” said Sooz. “Just go, Rufino. Go, or he’ll kill you!”

  Rufino’s eyes flicked over to look at Sooz, and then back to the Dark Lord. His hand fell away from his weapon. Skabber took him by the arm. “Sorry about this, man,” he said.

  Rufino looked around angrily. Then he sighed resignedly. “So be it. For your sake, my Queen,” he said, nodding at Sooz. Skabber led him away to the Dungeons.

  “Ooooh, my Queeeen,” said the Dark Lord, putting on a mocking, Dirk-the-kid-like voice. “Bah! I am the ruler here!”

  With Rufino gone, the Dark Lord relaxed a little. “Good, that’s out of the way,” he said. “And now, one more thing. This ridiculous girl-child is not my betrothed or any such nonsense, okay? Got that through your bonehead skulls? I mean really, when was the last time I even had a girlfriend? It’s absurd! If I did, it wouldn’t be some sappy human anyway, it’d be … ah … I don’t know … Well, anyway, just forget it, guys, okay?�
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  Gargon and Agrash stared up at the Dark Lord. Guys? Did he just say “guys”?

  Sooz, though, looked crestfallen. Ridiculous girl-child? she thought to herself. Is that what he really thought of her? That hurt, it really did, even though the whole marriage thing was obviously absurd—especially now.

  Then she frowned, and a determined look came over her face. “Promise me you won’t mistreat him or torture him!” said Sooz.

  Agrash put his hand over his mouth in shock. Nobody spoke to the Dark Lord like that! Gargon stared at Sooz, making a face to attract her attention. She glanced over at him.

  “No,” he mouthed, shaking his head from side to side theatrically and gesturing with his arms.

  “What? What did you say?” said the Dark Lord with rising anger.

  “Don’t hurt him. Don’t hurt Rufino. He’s my friend. If you do, I won’t speak to you ever again!” said Sooz.

  The Dark One gaped at her for a moment, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. But then, instead of blasting her with some kind of spell like he would have in the old days, he crossed his powerful arms, and looked her up and down. “You won’t talk to me! Is that it? Ha! Do I look concerned, little girl, do I?” he said.

  “I mean it! You won’t be my friend anymore and I won’t talk to you ever again, not EVER!” said Sooz, stamping her foot.

  Chris watched this exchange with fascination. Sure, Dirk was twelve feet tall and a Dark Lord, but it could just as easily have been in the school yard back home on earth, and that gave them some hope.

  The Dark Lord blinked his sideways blink. He was thinking about what life would be like if Sooz never spoke to him again. “Well … Well … Okay then, since it’s you, my little Vampire. I promise not to hurt him. There—are you satisfied?”

  Sooz nodded. “Yeah, okay, that’s cool.”

  “I’m not letting him out though! He stays locked up! Got it?” said the Dark Lord Dirk.

  Sooz shrugged a “whatever” shrug.

  Agrash and Gargon exchanged looks that said “What’s going on?” The Dark Lord was back, that was for sure, and he was mostly behaving like himself—i.e., like a terrifying dictatorial bullying monster—but something was different. He had changed somehow. He may not be betrothed to the Moon Queen, but there was clearly some bond between them. It was all very odd.

  Gargon stood up. “Your Imperial Darkness?” he said.

  “Yes, Gargon,” said the Dark Lord Dirk.

  “We have several hundred Orcs, Goblins, and humans … Er, several hundred of our people inside who have not eaten much for days. Can you open the Storeroom for them?”

  “Oh, yes, of course!” said the Dark Lord. “In we go! I can’t wait to sit once more on the Throne of Skulls anyway!”

  In the Court of the Dark Lord

  Dirk the Dark Lord sat on his Throne of Skulls, arms resting on either side, hooves firmly planted on the platform. Dark light shone up at him, haloing him in majestic shadows. Where Sooz had looked beautiful, mysterious, and queenly, Dirk looked terrifying, powerful, and dangerous.

  The skulls on the Throne were constantly moaning—a low, barely audible moan, as if the weight of the Dark Lord itself somehow pained them.

  At his feet, sitting on the Throne’s dais, were Sooz and Chris. Before them, stood Gargon, Skabber, and Agrash.

  Chris was dressed in the uniform of an elite Goblin Guard, black leather armor with the Seal of the Dark Lord emblazoned on his chest and a Goblin chopper at his side—basically a kind of long-bladed meat cleaver. The weapon and the armor didn’t look right on him, but he had been given the titles The Mouth of the Great Dirk and Commander of the Goblin Guard, and that was his uniform.

  Sooz, though, had been given a whole new outfit from the magic wardrobe, and she was wearing a new dress with lots of lovely black lace, inlaid with threads of Moonsilver. Dirk had “officially” confirmed her title as the Moon Queen, and Our Lady of the Dark. Her own Seal was wrought in Moonsilver on her dress, and she had a long white scarf patterned with little versions of her Seal too. She looked majestic. She still had her Goth boots on though, and her AngelBile bag. Dirk’s human arm had been taken out of the bag, and pickled. Then they’d hung it in a glass cabinet on the wall in the Dark Lord’s trophy room as a reminder of the time he had been cursed to wear the body of a human boy-child. It all added to the mythology and legend of his never-ending struggle with the White Wizard.

  Dirk the Dark Lord gestured at Agrash. The Goblin stepped forward and spoke loudly. “All hail the Great Dirk, the Dark Lord, Master of the Legions of Dread, the World Burner, the Dark One, Master of the Nine Netherworlds, and—”

  “Yes, yes, just get on with it, Agrash,” said the Dark Lord. Normally he liked to listen to his titles but today he was eager to get on with things.

  Agrash continued. “His Imperial Darkness will issue an edict! Listen, all you gathered here, and obey or be forever consigned to the Dungeons of Doom!” he said portentously.

  The Dark Lord Dirk leaned forward. “Here it is,” he said. “I’m going to create a unit of Goblin Battle Balloons, just like we discussed at that ridiculous church fair, Christopher. You remember, don’t you?”

  “Right …,” said Chris, unsure as to where this was going.

  Agrash raised a snotty eyebrow. “Balloons? What are balloons?” he muttered under his breath.

  “To this end,” continued the Dark Lord, “I have drawn up some blueprints for a Dirigible Battle Balloon, to be crewed by a team of ten Goblin Bombardiers, powered by magically enhanced gas! Agrash, I’m putting you in charge of construction.”

  He handed to Chris, Agrash, and Sooz several sheets of paper upon which were carefully drawn various cutaways and plans for the building of a Goblin Battle Balloon.

  “Wow, cool!” said Chris.

  “I know!” said the Dark Lord. “Agrash, I want fifty of them ready in two weeks’ time for an assault on Gam, the City of Men. We’ll be using exploding rock grenades—or Candies of Doom, as I call them. Ha, ha, ha! Get it, Christopher?”

  Christopher smiled up at the Dark Lord, trying to laugh, but inside he found the whole idea kind of disturbing. He glanced over at Sooz. She looked just as worried. After all, Dirk was basically talking about bombing a city. And that meant people—humans—getting killed. And all because of his neighbor’s rock candy and a hot-air balloon.

  Agrash frowned too, though his concerns were different. “Two weeks? It’s not possible, Sire, we don’t have the workers … I mean, it would take …,” he said.

  “I know, I know. That’s why we’re going to reopen the Slave Pits. All those annoying humans wandering about having fun in that absurdly named town you built—Soozville, was it? Well, it’s over. Round ’em up and put ’em in the Pits. They’ll be working around the clock on my Balloons, and don’t spare the lash!” said the Dark One.

  “What?” said Sooz. “You can’t do that! I promised them there would be no more slaves, no more overseers and whips. It’s cruel! It’s wrong! No, worse than that, it’s … it’s evil!”

  The Dark Lord raised his eyes. “Duhhh! Hello! Am I not the Lord of Darkness? Anyway, what do you think we should do, send Hasdruban some flowers?”

  “Well, yes, in a way. We should be making peace! Living together in harmony and …,” said Sooz, but the Dark Lord Dirk wasn’t listening. He was looking away, distracted.

  “Hmm, sending him some flowers might not be

  such a bad idea,” he said, thinking out loud. “Exploding flowers, of course …”

  “Don’t do this, Dirk, please don’t!” said Sooz, raising her voice.

  The Dark Lord frowned and glared at Sooz. “I’ve told you, you can’t call me Dirk. Either the Great Dirk or one of my other titles. The boy Dirk is gone.”

  Sooz put her hands on her hips. “I don’t care! You shouldn’t have slaves, it’s wrong, and that’s that!”

  “Oh, that’s enough, Sooz,” said the Dark Lord, waving a taloned hand
dismissively. “I’ve issued the edict, and that’s that.”

  He turned to Agrash. ‘“What are you doing, standing there, you sniveling greenie! Get on with it! And take Skabber with you; you’ll need his Orcs to round up the humans.”

  “Yes, your Imperial Darkness, right away!” a frightened Agrash said. He glanced at Sooz, as if to say “Sorry, there’s nothing I can do” before he and Skabber left to carry out the Dark Lord’s orders.

  Sooz folded her arms and screwed her face up. “I’m not going to let you get away with this,” she said, stamping her foot.

  “Oh, really, and what are you going to do, little girl, put me in detention?” said the Dark Lord. Then he leaned back in his Throne and laughed out loud at the thought of it. “Detention! Ha, ha!”

  Sooz shook her head in disgust. “Come on, Chris, I’ve had enough of this,” she said, and began walking away. Chris turned to follow her.

  The Dark Lord made a face. “Eeeuuuw, grumpy Sooz!” he said, just as if he were back in the school yard on earth. Sooz ignored him, nose in the air, stomping her way out of the Hall of Gloom.

  The Dark Lord shrugged. “Bah, go! I don’t care!” he said. “As for you Christopher …”

  The Dark Lord Dirk signaled and several Goblin Guards stepped forward to block Christopher’s exit. He turned to the Dark Lord. “What? What is it?” said a worried Chris. Behind him, a determined-looking Sooz hurried on, throwing a resentful glance behind her.

  The Dark Lord grinned at Chris. “I want to show you something, something fun!”

  “Fun? What do you mean, fun?” said Chris.

  “Come with me! You’re going to love it, my old friend, you really are!” said the Dark Lord, as he got down from his Throne. He walked over to Chris, laid a massive hand on his shoulder, and led him away, like two friends leaving school to go home and hang out together. Except that one of them was tall, dark—really dark—and very, very dangerous.

  Darklands: The Game

  Chris stood in astonished wonder at what he saw before him. Dirk the Dark Lord had led him out of the Tower and down to a large open space behind it. He had covered this field in hexagon-shaped tiles that seemed to be carved from wood and then enchanted in some way. Each tile had various pieces of terrain modeled on it, lifelike but smaller than real life. There was a little range of mountains, a river, forests, marshes, and so on. And also model towns, cities, and forts. Each model had been magically enhanced in some way. Leaves on trees rustled, towns were inhabited with tiny mannequin people, rivers flowed, small ships sailed upon their waters, and little clouds passed over tiles and rained on them.