Special thanks to Elizabeth Nixon for permission to use her skeletal hand artwork.
The Dark Lord’s Handbook
In the eternal war between Good and Evil, things were not going so well for Team Evil. While Death walked unseen by mortal eyes among the dead that lay on the sun burned field of battle, Evil mooched around as Death went about his work gathering souls. Death would be at it for quite some time as men and orcs bled out slowly, voicing their pains and thirst. If they were lucky the scavengers would help them on their way as they looted the dead and dying.
Evil made his way to where it had all ended. A neat ring of corpses lay around the blasted ground where the Dark Lord had fallen. Evil sighed. He’d had high hopes for this one. The early signs had been good, with notable successes, but then this? How had the Dark Lord managed to get it so wrong? It wasn’t that hard. All he had to do was read the fucking…
“Loser,” said a voice from behind him, interrupting his thoughts.
He didn’t have to turn to know who had come to gloat. “I wondered when you’d turn up,” said Evil.
“Loooooooooser,” repeated Good.
Evil turned to face his old adversary. “Is that necessary?”
Good shrugged. “You had me worried there. For a while. Attacking from the east at dawn. That’s my trick.”
“Nothing in the rules says I couldn’t,” said Evil. It was one of a number of small things that had all come together to give him real hope he would win this time. “The burnished shields were a nice touch.”
“Thanks,” said Good. “I had them up all night polishing. It was close.”