Og-Grim-Dog and the Dark Lord

by Jamie Edmundson

  ‘Henchmen!’ the Dark Lord called out, ignoring his mother. ‘Deal with this beast!’

  Simba was already at his true master’s side, watching on impassively next to Mistress Lilith.

  Gurin shrugged. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Brother Kane!?’ the Dark Lord pleaded.

  ‘My son is not about to help you,’ exclaimed Lilith, her face lighting up in a cruel smile as the worm reared higher.

  ‘Her son?’ Dog said. ‘How old is she?’

  ‘You did pick up on the fact that she’s a demon?’ Grim asked him.

  ‘Yes. A very good looking one, though.’

  Grim sighed. ‘Never mind.’

  The Dark Lord was looking at them now, his last hope. ‘Ogre?’ he asked. ‘Is this your doing?’

  He never learned our name, Grim noted.

  Evie launched herself downwards and swallowed the Dark Lord whole. An unpleasant eating sound followed, before the worm spat out the Dark Lord’s helmet. It landed on the floor with a metallic clang.

  ‘Come on, mother,’ said Fraser. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

  He offered his hand. She seemed to consider it for a second, and then took Fraser’s hand and clambered onto the worm until she was seated behind her older son, arms clinging around his waist.

  ‘No-one had better try anything,’ Fraser warned.

  Lilith waved a hand, instructing her followers to let him go. After all, he had done her a favour. The Dark Lord was gone, and she hadn’t had to do the deed, nor had Samael and his Kuthenian army had to lay siege to Fell Towers. She was in charge now.

  Fraser turned Evie around and left the room the way they had come in, heading for the exit to the keep, and no doubt on to the gates to Fell Towers. Grim was pleased. The basement of Fell Towers was empty now, and he believed that was as it should be.

  Grim felt himself pulled to the right, and saw that Dog’s arm was being yanked by some invisible force. Sandon obviously wanted them out of there in a hurry. He made a face at Gurin, who started to head in their direction.

  Fortunately, their movements were going unnoticed so far. Simba had collected the Dark Lord’s helmet and was now holding it out for Lilith.

  ‘Show your obedience to our new Dark Lord!’ he bellowed into the room. With no small amount of grumbling and clutching of stomachs, the menials in the Refectory all got down on one knee.

  Simba placed the horned helmet onto Lilith’s head.

  ‘Servants of the Dark Lord!’ she said to the room, her voice supernaturally loud. ‘Serve me as you served your former leader and you will be rewarded! Know that under my rule our evil empire will grow, as we form alliances with the Kuthenian Empire and the Dark Elves of Cly’ath Denori’Kilith Tu’an.’

  Instead of a great cheer, this announcement was met with an uncertain silence. Into the silence, came the distinct sound of somebody hurling, followed by the splatter of vomit on the floor. Then, as if that one individual disgorgement acted as a trigger, a cascade of chunks surged up from the stomachs of many a menial—each emitted stream merging to form a sea of sickness that swept across the room. The sudden sour smell hit Grim like a slap in the face.

  ‘Grim,’ Dog moaned, please get us out of here.

  Grim didn’t need to be told twice, leaving at pace. Gurin was not far behind, unable to suppress an audible obscenity as he was forced to wade through the spill. Dog dry heaved once, but managed not to lose the contents of his stomach.

  ‘The postern gate is this way,’ Grim said to Gurin as the dwarf caught up to them.

  The menials on guard duty saw them approach and opened the gate for them.

  ‘Has the wedding been fun?’ one of them asked.

  ‘The Dark Lord was eaten by a worm,’ Dog answered honestly.

  ‘Oh.’

  Once outside, Sandon appeared with them.

  ‘What’s that your carrying?’ asked Og, gesturing at a staff the wizard held.

  ‘I found it upstairs. It belonged to Relandra the Enchantress. She was a friend of mine. Are you sure this is the best way out?’ he asked as Grim led them along the cliff walk.

  ‘Samael and the Kuthenians will be coming up the road to the front gates of the stronghold,’ Og answered, allowing Grim to concentrate on moving as fast as he could. ‘We don’t want to have to sneak past them. This is a longer route, but safer.’

  ‘Very well,’ said Sandon. ‘Here, have the amulet back. You’re the most conspicuous of us all, you might need it.’

  Og grabbed the magic item from the wizard.

  ‘Did you like my Spell of Regurgitation?’ the wizard asked, just as the sea air had expunged the smell of the Refectory from Grim’s nostrils.

  ‘That was you?’ asked Dog.

  ‘Yes. I got the idea from my time in the city state of Rapoli. Do you know, the noble families of the city deliberately bring up the earlier courses of a meal, just so—’

  ‘Please, Sandon,’ said Gurin. ‘Not now.’

  ‘Oh, alright. Maybe I should tell you that story later.’

  ‘There’s one good thing about it, I suppose,’ said Dog.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I don’t think I’ll miss the Dark Lord’s Refectory so much after that.’

  A Score to Settle

  It was a long and tiresome trek through the badlands that surrounded Fell Towers. At first, Og-Grim-Dog, Gurin and Sandon were nervous of being followed by the agents of the new Dark Lord. Once it became clear that they weren’t, the boredom of walking all day soon set in. The time was taken up by Sandon’s stories of all the places he had been, and Dog’s stories of all the famous people he claimed to have met. It didn’t take long for Grim to wish they were being chased.

  But every journey has an end, and this one ended outside the opening to a dungeon, just north of the Moors of Misery. It was Wight’s Hollow, a place they had agreed on with Assata, Raya and the others as a good location to meet, should they all make it out of Fell Towers. Here they were reunited with their friends. It looked like the exercise and fresh air had done Princess Borte good. She raised an eyebrow at their appearance but said nothing. Grim wondered what she really thought of these people, who had kidnapped her, taken her to be married against her will to a madman, and then released her at the last moment. Probably, that they were rather stupid.

  Sat with her around a fire were Assata, Raya and Hassletoff. The halfling tended to a pot that, if Grim’s nose wasn’t mistaken, contained a meat broth.

  ‘Fond memories of this place?’ asked the barbarian sarcastically in greeting.

  Wight’s Hollow had been a low point of their dungeon crawl last year. It wasn’t really a dungeon at all any longer—more of a shopping excursion.

  ‘Knowing that Lilith and Samael control both the Bureau and Discount Dungeon Supplies means this place makes a lot more sense than it did,’ Og replied.

  Mention of their new enemies brought forth serious expressions on the faces of those who gathered about the fire.

  ‘I’m sorry about Brother Kane,’ said Raya. ‘If I’d known he was working for the Dark Lord, I’d have warned you.’

  The elf’s apology surprised Grim. Did she really blame herself, or Brother Kane, for the things they had done? Grim knew they didn’t deserve such an easy let off. Even so, it was a kind thought, and it made it a little easier to take his place by the fire with these people—people he felt he had let down in some way.

  Over supper, they told the others what had happened at Fell Towers after they had left that night. Again, Princess Borte spoke little and didn’t react very much when she heard of the death of the Dark Lord. They were unable to say for sure what became of Fraser in the end, but they all agreed that Evie gave him a good chance of completing his escape.

  Sandon told them what he knew of succubae. Demons able to take the female form, they could tie lesser beings to their will. The more they discussed Sheev’s, Discount Dungeon Supplies and the Kuthenian Empire, the more they realised wh
at a devilish plot Lilith had constructed.

  Then, finally, perhaps the strangest revelation of all. ‘Brother Kane, it turns out, is this creature’s son,’ said Sandon.

  ‘Sired by whom?’ Hassletoff asked.

  ‘That, we don’t know,’ said Sandon. ‘Kane is not a wizard, but he has formidable powers. We can speculate that he derives them, at least in part, from his demon heritage.’

  ‘When we got sight of the Kuthenian army heading for Fell Towers, I left Raya, Toff and Borte for a while,’ Assata explained next. ‘It wasn’t that hard for me to infiltrate their camp, disguised as a slave,’ she said, a touch of bitterness to her voice. ‘I learned that the new emperor is Tugh. Princess Borte’s uncle.’

  ‘I believe that solves the riddle of who killed my father,’ said the princess. She controlled her emotions, but it was not hard to see her pain. ‘Samael was a trusted official at my father’s court. No doubt in the confusion caused by my abduction, it was easy for Samael and my uncle to blame the assassination on the agents of the Dark Lord. I don’t doubt that was a part of Lilith and Samael’s plan all along. My uncle will be a more malleable ruler for Samael to control than my father was.’

  ‘Tugh appointed a general of the army,’ Assata continued, ‘ostensibly with orders to rescue Borte and punish the Dark Lord. But it was obvious that Samael had the real control.’

  ‘And I’m almost certain,’ Sandon added, ‘that this Samael is an incubus. The male version of a succubus. He and Lilith have been working together to win control over Pengshui and Fell Towers for some time. Now they have it. And I fear for Gal’azu. It’s not just that they now control the two largest armies in the land. Even though we have discovered their true natures, I know of no-one and nothing with the power to destroy them.’

  And we helped to eliminate any heroes who might have been able to challenge them, Grim realised. He would keep that fact to himself. His friends might have forgiven Og-Grim-Dog for their other crimes, but if they knew what they had done in Varena…

  ‘Sounds like we’ll have to wait until we can deal with that pair,’ Gurin agreed. ‘But I think there is one score we can settle right now.’

  All seven of them trekked through the Moors of Misery for the south. For Mer Khazer. Grim had an odd feeling that they were returning home, even though they had spent so little time in the town. But, he supposed, some places are just like that.

  Borte, relieved to discover that not all of western Gal’azu was badlands or unending moors, took pleasure in the raw beauty of this part of the world. More than once, Grim noticed the princess and Assata talking quietly together, comparing the way of life here with Kuthenia. At some point, he didn’t know when, their mutual animosity had faded away and now their relationship appeared quite different. Someone had armed Borte with a short spear. Grim had no idea if she knew how to use it, but it seemed that as each day passed, she was becoming more an adventurer, and less a princess.

  In this company, Og and Dog didn’t have to hide their heads in sacks, nor did they have to use Raya’s amulet. If the human travellers on the roads didn’t like the look of a three-headed ogre travelling with such an unusual collection of individuals, they were at least wise enough to keep their opinions to themselves. Raya herself, meanwhile, scouted ahead and all around, in case more hostile eyes watched them. But orcs and goblins tended not to interfere with ogres, and trolls rarely gathered in numbers large enough for them to challenge a group such as theirs. So it was that their destination appeared on the horizon at the end of a trouble-free journey.

  ‘We’re banned from Mer Khazer,’ Og reminded everyone. ‘They won’t let us in.’

  ‘I had to give up my position as reeve to go adventuring to Fell Towers,’ Hassletoff explained as they reached the town gates. ‘I just have to hope that there’s a friendly face on duty today.’

  The Director

  I really shouldn’t be letting you in,’ said the young man, in a tone that suggested he was already half inclined to do just that.

  ‘We’ve important business to deal with, Oliver,’ Hassletoff said. ‘I wouldn’t ask you to bend the rules otherwise. Would I?’

  Oliver answered the question by waving them all through into the town. The halfling patted the young man on the back. ‘You’ve done the right thing.’

  ‘We don’t want to waste time or alert Barclay to our arrival,’ said Gurin as they marched down the main street towards the centre of town. ‘Where’s he likely to be? The Bureau?’

  ‘No,’ said Hassletoff. ‘His townhouse. It’s well guarded. And let’s not forget that Barclay is a powerful sorcerer. We’ll need some sort of plan to deal with him.’

  Grim had to admit, it felt good to be preparing for battle. Their time at Fell Towers had ended in retreat, and he felt as if they had unfinished business. Bones that needed to be broken; blood that needed to be spilled.

  ‘I think they’ve had enough time,’ Gurin murmured next to him, ‘for it to have worked, or not.’

  They had decided to send Hassletoff and Sandon into the house ahead of them, on the pretext of needing to talk with Barclay about what they had found at Fell Towers. They assumed that he would be eager to hear news of how things went with his secret allies. The danger: that he already knew and was able, through his magic, to communicate with Lilith and Samael.

  ‘Agreed,’ said Assata on Grim’s other side.

  ‘Agreed,’ said Og and Dog.

  Grim stepped out of their hidden position and began marching towards the front door of Barclay’s house, where two heavily armoured warriors stood on watch. Gurin and Assata followed behind and the warriors were already shouting out a warning.

  Grim picked up the pace, as the door to the house swung open and more warriors surged out. Og hefted his pike and Dog let out a great bark of exultation. Barclay’s elite warriors, their expensive armour polished to a shine, their weapons sharpened to a razor’s edge, their heads encased in metal helms, showed no hesitation at the sight of an ogre coming for them. Instead they came to meet the threat, confident in their ability, shields ready to take the first blow from Og’s pike.

  Then the nearest of them went down, as a well-aimed missile whistled through the thin slit of his helmet, striking one of the few unprotected parts of his body.

  The warrior next to him didn’t let that put him off, and his shield met Og’s strike, the weight of his armour helping him to absorb the blow. Then more blows could be heard, as Gurin wielded his axe, and Assata her sword.

  Og’s pike was now held out horizontally before them, and Grim was charging forwards, his powerful thighs and hips driving forwards, using his size to unsettle the enemy as the pike hit them at chest height.

  Barclay’s warriors didn’t do so bad, one of them even cutting Og’s pike in half, so that he was left holding a glorified stick. But Dog was in amongst them now. Plate mail can stop a lot of things, Grim mused. But not an ogre’s mace. It came down on heads, shoulders and arms, metal crumpling and buckling and twisting—muscles tearing and bones snapping from the blunt force trauma. When he was done, a battered semi-circle of bodies was sprawled on the floor around him. Gurin and Assata tidied up any warriors still on their feet.

  Some still lived, groaning in pain, one of them screaming—a horrible, high-pitched sound that pierced Grim’s ears and rang in his head. But they were incapacitated, that was what mattered. Grim led his friends to the door of the house. From behind a tree, Raya emerged, bow already nocked with another arrow.

  Inside, the Director’s front room was laid out as a hall, with a fire and table dominating the space. Fresh rushes covered the floor and an expensive tapestry ran across one wall. At the far end of the room, Director Barclay had only one warrior left. Next to them were Sandon and Hassletoff.

  Barclay wore a black robe and held a wooden staff. He gave a sardonic look as Og-Grim-Dog led his friends into the Director of the Bureau’s house.

  ‘I am beginning to see what this is,’ he said. ‘A r
evolution? Dwarves and ogres back in the Bureau?’ He turned to look at Sandon and Hassletoff. ‘Freeing the Bureau from the clandestine control of dark forces?’

  He smiled as their reactions gave away the truth.

  ‘You’ve betrayed the Bureau,’ Sandon said.

  He raised his new staff, the blue orb on the top emitting a magical light, but Barclay saw it coming. A flick of his staff and Sandon was sent to the floor, held in place by some vast, unseen force.

  When Hassletoff reached for his hilt, Barclay’s warrior did the same, and the halfling backed away instead.

  Barclay sighed at the stupidity of his opponents. He looked back to Og-Grim-Dog and his friends, who were slowly approaching the sorcerer, as if playing a game of grandmother’s footsteps. ‘Even if you could kill me,’ he said, ‘Samael and Lilith would exact a terrible revenge. Is that what you want?’

  ‘We’ll deal with them when the time comes,’ Gurin said.

  Barclay twisted his face in derision. ‘Don’t be a child. The Bureau completely disbanded? The utter end of our way of life? These are the choices I have had to make, in the real world. It’s easy to be an old romantic and complain that the world isn’t perfect from the sidelines. I’m the best defence from those monsters that our community has. I don’t expect gratitude—’

  Director Barclay said no more, as from nowhere a short spear erupted from his throat, the metal blade rising upwards and stopping when it hit his chin.

  His remaining guard spun around and drew his sword in one motion, but there was no adversary to be seen, and while he looked for one, Hassletoff was upon him, burying his own sword in his back. The guard’s sword came for the halfling, but it was not hard for Hassletoff to duck under the blow and jump out of the way. By that point, Sandon was back on his feet and a blast of magic sent the mailed warrior to the floor.

  It wasn’t pleasant to watch Director Barclay’s eyes bulge in surprise or hear his wet chokes. But after that, mercifully, he died quickly.