Old Lord Tallus

Dark Lord Tallus: *Whisper* Damn that Yakob! He foils everything... *End Whisper*

Servant: "My lord! Simply saying *Whisper* at the begining of a senteance does not mean you actually whisper!"

Lord Tallus:  "..."

*Lord Tallus turns to his Droog Torturer*

Lord Tallus: "Would you kindly have this servant coated in honey then tie him up and continously pour rabid starving weasels on him until he dies?"

Droog Torturer: "Oh I would sir, I really would, but mah back is giving me gyp."

Lord Tallus: "What!? What am I paying you for! Get over there and torture that servant already!"

Droog Torturer: "But you dont pay me sir."

Lord Tallus:  "Good! Because if I did, I would dock your pay, as it happens, after you have tortured the Servant have yourself tortured as well. Something tasteful involving whips and racks."

Droog Tortorer: "Oh bless you sir, but as much as I would look forward to a good lie on the rack, I cant turn the crank and lie in the rack at the same time."

Lord Tallus: "Then get the servant to help you! Do I have to tell you how to do everything!?"

Droog Torturer: "Oh dear m'lord, but the Rabid-Starving Termites got into the rack this morning, its in ruins."

Lord Tallus: "Oh for Abyss' sake... Well then, go to the nearby town and buy some lengths of two by four's, and some nails, and rope. We should have a hammer somewhere - then come back and make a new rack."

Droog Torturer: "Oh bless you sir! A new rack, just what I allways wanted. Christmas has come early for me, oh if you please sir."

Lord Tallus: "Yes..."

Servant: "But My Lord, we havent got any money."

Lord Tallus: "What!? But I just raided that village!"

Servant: "Begging your Pardon my Lord, but you have been raiding that village every other week for the past year. and they havent had anything worth raiding for the past 6 months."

Droog Torturer: "Oh dear me sir, it has been terrible on me ol' back all that raiding and carrying back nothing but bits of shiny stones and interesting dung."

Lord Tallus: "By the Black Lord Himself! Why didnt anyone tell me this sooner!?"

Servant: "We have tried sir but you kept having us tortured."

Lord Tallus: "Yes, Servant, dont forget to schedule yourself in for some Torturing this evening."

Servant: "Of course sir."

Lord Tallus: "Now enough of these interuptions! We need some money fast, Droog Torturer, what minions do I have at my disposal?"

Droog Torturer: "Well the ol' Dragon has been put out to pasture m'lord - poor thing had lost his fire and been stricken with scale rot for the past few months. Its this damp you see."

Lord Tallus: "Is that why it is so cold in here? I had been ordering the Firestarter to be frequently tortured for his failure."

Servant: "Pardon me My Lord, but the Firestarter left four months ago to go and work for Lord Baromonthe."

Lord Tallus: "What!? But I have been yelling at him every evening! Then who have I been yelling at!?"

Servant: "That would be the Dirty Mirrors my Lord."

Lord Tallus: "Dirty Mirrors!? I shall have the Maid tortured!"

Droog Torturer: "Oh bless you sir, that would warm me ol' heart but the Maid went to live with her dear ol' sister last winter."

Lord Tallus: "..."

Servant: "My Lord?"

Lord Tallus: "..."

Droog Torturer: "Oh dear, I do think the Lord is in need of a good torture, shall I torture the servants m'lord?"

Lord Tallus: "Cant... no servants."

Servant: "Well I am still here My Lord."

Lord Tallus: "..."

*Lord Tallus looks around his 'Throne Room' the plaster is crumbling and rain is dripping into a host of mishapen and half-rotten buckets strewn haphazardly about. The little furniture that is present is old and impossibly worn, his very own throne being held together with twine. He takes off his Crown and sees that it is made of tarnished copper, his Golden crown long ago pawned away.*

Lord Tallus: "Are there any other Minions?"

Servant: "Well, there are the Rabid-Starved Termites."

Droog Torturer: "Oh dear me Sir, but they ain't starved no more, they ate the rack and most of the torture tools you see."

*They all turn to see the Termites scuttingling accross the floor, carrying the crumbling remains of the rack out through a hole in the wall.*

Lord Tallus: "Where did that Hole Come from!?"

Droog Torturer: "Oh I remember that day like it was yesterday m'lord..."

Servant: "It was today."

Droog Torturer: "Oh you have no flair for the Dramatic."

Lord Tallus: "Get on with it."

Droog Torturer: "Well m'lord, a cadre of heroes were passing by and they saw the old crumbling castle and thought "Ah here be adventure!" but they couldnt get in through the door since the locks have rusted shut since the Doorman retired to go and live with his aunt in Daventry."

Servant: "So their Dwarven Beserker tapped the walls till he found a soft spot and headbutted it. Then they all charged in, I hid under the Kitchen sink as they ransacked the place."

Droog Torturer: "After a while they got bored sir and left."

Lord Tallus: "Why wasn't I informed!?"

Droog Torturer: "Oh we didnt want to disturb you sir, you were sound asleep in your throne after all that torturing you ordered me to do."

Lord Tallus: "I was in my throne!? But the Hole is right there! The Heroes must have seen me!"

Droog Torturer: "Oh Pardon me sir, but they didn't want to wake you either."

Lord Tallus: "Hah! So I still instill fear in the hearts of Heroes!"

Droog Torturer: "Actually m'lord, if you pardon me saying - they actually said: "Ere lets not wake up old grandad there, he will probobly give us some long winded quest where virtue is its own reward."

Lord Tallus: "Oh gods..."

Servant: "Shall I make you a cup of tea My Lord?"

Droog Torturer: "I think that the Lord might need something a bit stronger than that mah boy."

Servant: "I will see what I can find in the cellars then."

*Lord Tallus is silent for a while. He sits in his ancient throne, his castle crumbling around him. He grips the throne tightly, his thin-boney fingers gripping until the knuckles pale and the veins begin to throb.*

Lord Tallus: "Tell me... where did I go wrong?"

Droog Torturer: "Oh well... Oooh, pardon me sir, if you just let me take a seat. Me knees is giving me gyp."

*Lord Tallus waves a hand.*

*The Droog Torturer grabs one of the less rotten buckets an upends the contents out the window. Then he places it down by the throne and sits.*

Droog Torturer: "Well pardon me sir, but we got old."

Lord Tallus: "..."

*Lord Tallus pulls back his hood, showing his long greying hair, his once red, baleful eyes have softend to a dull amber.*

Lord Tallus: "I was great once. I remember men quaking at my name. And now I sit in a crumbling castle upon a rotten throne!"

Droog Torturer: "Oh its not all bad, remember the bad ol' days when we used to lead the black hordes of Gribblies on the peasantry? How they used to run and throw their children at us in order to escape faster?"

Lord Tallus: "I... I barely remember them at all."

Droog Torturer: "Well pardon me sir, perhaps we can get some new ones? Things havent been same without the Gribblies sniffing about, nipping at the ol' ankles and begging for scraps of demon flesh. Pity the last litter that ol' Maleskirfairker, the wee Gribblie Matriach had were all stunted and furry."

*The Servant returns.*

Servant: "Oh I remember them, they looked like little hamsters."

Droog Torturer: "You ordered them all to be thoroughly tortured for their cuteness, but they escaped into the local town and were snapped up by Children and kept as pets."

Servants: "If only we had thought of selling them."

Lord Tallus: "And Maleskirfairker? What happened to her? And if its depressing then dont tell me."

Droog Torturer: "Oh then perhaps its best I dont say then M'lord."

Lord Tallus: "I hope for your sake you found some brandy!"

Servant: "Indeed sir, I found a bottle hidden in the cobwebs of the old Demon Spider."

Lord Tallus: "Demon Spider!? Yes! Of course! How could I forget! All we need is-"

Servant: "Sorry my Lord, but she curled up and died after giving birth to baby Demon Spiders. They ate her I believe. The younglings then went to live with Neighboring Lords."

Lord Tallus: "Oh."

*He grabs the proffered Brandy cup. The Droog Torturer and Servant each pour themselves a cup.*

Droog Torturer: "To memories."

Servant: "To missed oppurtunities."

Lord Tallus: "Here's hoping you will stop talking!"

*They drink.*

Lord Tallus: "I wont stand for this... or sit for this either. When was the last time I got out of this chair?"

Servant: "Oh I'm not sure My Lord, I ussually dust around you."

Droog Torturer: "That would be when Lord Calax the Destroyer came to visit, and he gave you what he called "The Comfiest Demon Throne in the Mulitverse." You haven't left it much since."

Lord Tallus: "Lord Calax? How is the old Rascal?"

Droog Torturer: "Last I heard he retired and now makes Jam out of small shop in Droitwhich."

Lord Tallus: "Lord Calax!? Making Jam!? But he used to be the Lord of the thousand Skulls! He used to eat the eys of his enimies!"

Droog Torturer: "I never said it was good jam m'lord."

Lord Tallus: "..."

Lord Tallus: "What about Lady Helara, mistress of the Demonweb Pits? Surely she is still The Queen of Pain?"

Droog Torturer: "She settled down and married Harad the Barbarian. Had some kids I believe."

Lord Tallus: "But they were mortal enimies! She tore out his lover's heart with her bare hands!"

Droog Torturer: "Well they had been fighting for so long that they got tired of it all, and neither of them were getting any younger so they thought it might be best to keep fighting domestically."

Lord Tallus: "Thats... thats rediculous."

Servant: "No one wants to be alone My Lord."

Lord Tallus: "That reminds me, why are you two here?"

Servant: "Well you butchered my village and threw my parents into a pit of sharpened spikes sire."

Lord Tallus: "Oh..."

Servant: "I never liked them."

Lord Tallus: "Ah."

Droog Torturer: "Bah, I was born in this castle and I intend to die in it."

Lord Tallus: "Commendable..."

*Lord Tallus is silent for a while, the three think back to their glory days of torturing, serving, and lording respectively. Taking swigs of the rapidly emptying brandy bottle as they do so. Eventually The one-time Dark Lord's thoughts turn dark and moody.*

Lord Tallus: "No... I will not be the Last Dark Lord to fade away into myth and memory..."

Servant: "Well actuall-"

Droog Torturer: "Shh!"

Lord Tallus: "They think Im gone? They think me dead? They think the Mighty Tallus has passed into the Good Night!?"

*His now empty cup falls to the floor, he grips the arms of his throne tightly, and with a few false starts and curses, rises creakily to his feet*

Lord Tallus: "I will not! I refuse! Hrrk!"

*Lord Tallus loses his footing for a moment, and is promptly held up by the Servant and Droog Torturer.*

Servant: "Be careful My Lord! You need rest-"

Lord Tallus: "Unhand me!" *He shakes them off.* "I have had enough rest, too much rest! By the Black Lord himself my arse hurts."

Droog Torturer: "Oh that gets me sometimes as well sire, I find a it takes to go into the day slowly."

Lord Tallus: "There is no time for that! I cant just sit around, and use a stick to help me up steep inclines!"

Servant: "My Lord!"

Lord Tallus: "No. Not anymore. There shall be changes around here. Servant! What is the state of the Armory!?"

Servant: "Oh err..."

Droog Torturer: "Im afraid we melted down all the weapons to fix up the saucepans m'lord."

Lord Tallus: "What!? All of them!? Even the Black Sword of the Pit Fiend Enzaath - whose very name brings boils and lesions to the Unworthy!?"

Droog Torturer: "It didn't half scream when I melted it down."

Lord Tallus: "Well surely the Mace of Devas, once weilded by the fallen celestial who at this very moment wages her endless war at the Gates of Evermeet?"

Droog Torturer: "No, she passed away a few years ago. The Mace lost its power and turned to rust."

Lord Tallus: "But she was immortal!"

Droog Torturer: "Aye, but she got tired of it all."

Lord Tallus: "There must be a dagger or something!"

Servant: "I could fetch the cleaver from the Kitchens?"

Droog Torturer: "Dont be simple! The Lord cant carry a kitchen implement!"

Servant: "Well its that or we find him a heavy stick."

Droog Torturer: "Clubs are nothing to be sniffed at, why a well aged club can hold its own against a sword and dent a shield even."

Lord Tallus: "Just... just find me something."

Servant: "Yes, My Lord."

Lord Tallus: "My armour... My Helmet... dont tell me you melted them down as well?"

Droog Torturer: "Oh no wouldnt dream of it m'lord."

Lord Tallus: "Oh thank the Abyss-"

Droog Torturer: "They were stolen."

Lord Tallus: "..."

Droog Torturer: "Heroes I believe."

Lord Tallus: "I... I cant go to war in a nightshirt!"

Droog Torturer: "Perhaps we can raid the nearby villages for some better clothes?"

Lord Tallus: "That defeats the Point! I refuse to go raiding, pillaging, murdering or any form of skulduggery until I at least have some decent pants."

Droog Torturer: "Well... perhaps we can waylay a carriage, and order the passengers to strip off and then we put you into something that fits?"

Lord Tallus: "Well... allright."

*The Servant returns, carrying a broom with the Kitchen Knife tied to one end.*

Servant: "Its the best I could find."

Droog Torturer: "Ah a spear, remember Klagmuth the Anhilator? He used to rampage against whole armies armed with just a spear."

Lord Tallus: "Yes but that was the Spear of Detalia, which was forged from the Demonic Toenails of the World Titan. Who no doubt, you are about to tell me, has either retired or married some sheep-rearing peasant girl."

Servant: "Well actually-"

Droog Torturer: "No. I dont think the Lord wants to hear that one."

*Lord Tallus, stands there, wearing a copper crown and holding a broom, with the bristles still attached and a kitchen knife tied to one end.*

*The Servant buffs down the remaining mirror and in the warped and bubbled surface, Lord Tallus gazes at himself.*

Lord Tallus: "This is Humiliating."

Droog Torturer: "We all have to start somewhere m'lord."

Lord Tallus: "But I already started! And won! Years ago! I shouldnt have to start all over at my age...! Bah! Now Im doing it! You have made me feel old!"

Servant: "Begging your pardon My Lord but I think thats your age that makes you feel old."

Droog Torturer: "Hrumph! You are as old as you feel, why I dont feel a day older than sixty."

Servant: "You're only fifty-two."

Lord Tallus: "I must have something other than this... what about my magic? Do I still have any spells of darkness and torment? Or did one of you pawn them off to buy sausages or something?"

Droog Torturer: "Sire! I would never go near your old spell books!"

Servant: "However, I would My Lord. And all the old spells have faded. I think there might be something left though. Sometimes I hear a scritching noise from one of the old books."

Lord Tallus: "Fine then. Bring me the book."

*The Servant leaves.*

Lord Tallus: "Am I a fool to want to try again?"

Droog Torturer: "Well I allways say-"

Lord Tallus: "It was rhetorical!"

Droog Torturer: "The what?"

Lord Tallus: "Oh never mind."

*The Servant returns carrying a heavy looking and expensive book. He sets it down on the table, Lord Tallus, flanked by the gangly Droog Torturer, takes up position in front of it. Upon closer inspection, the heavy book looks impossibly worn, the old Witch's eye having rotted off years ago, the sigils worn and now having no meaning, the golden scrollwork having flaked off.*

Lord Tallus: "When was the last time I opened this?"

Droog Torturer: "That would be during the Sack of the Two Rivers, when you lead your Legions against the free peoples of the Mare."

Lord Tallus: "How did I do?"

Droog Torturer: "Well only a few old men showed up to see what all the fuss was about, and your legions - such as they were, consisted of three bent-double and toothless orcs, and a very lost lizardman who kept asking for his mummy."

Lord Tallus: "Oh Abyss I think I remember that, the Orcs and the Old men ended up swapping stories then falling asleep by the bonfire they had meant to burn each other on."

*A faint scritching from the Book of Magic has slowly been getting louder.*

Lord Tallus: "There must be something left! It wouldnt make that noise otherwise..."

*He turns the first page, and a foreword is written: "Here lies the collected spell work of the Black Lord Talon himself, may any unworthy fool who reads these pages be stricken with a plague of weasels and die a horrible death of pustules and boils." The Warranty of this spell book will expire if not correctly stored in a warded and sealed chamber and guarded by at least two but no more than five gilded Corenth from the Astral Plains. Gilded Corenth available for order for every budding Dark Lord from The Abyss Incorporate CC. All complaints to be forwarded to Hell, where they will be answered by nobody.*

*He turns to the index.*

*All along the list the various spells names have winked out, and are now merely faded ink or other insundry liquids on equally faded parchment. Only one spell still has a glimmer of life.*

Lord Tallus: "Oh no... there must be something else!"

*Lord Tallus turns page after page, but all the spells are long gone. Only one remains.*

Servant: "Well it cant be all bad can it? Perhaps it could be useful?"

Droog Torturer: "I cant see how being able to transform such a thing would be any use. To anyone. Ever."

Lord Tallus: "..."

*He reads the spell: "In order to envoke the spell of Frastule, one must hold in their left hand a lump of sodden moss. Soaked in bog water. Then envoke the words of Change, Fastule - fa-ss-tool - and point their right hand at the target of choice. Hold away from face. Do not point at children or dwarves. Results may vary.*

Lord Tallus: "The Spell of Fastule, to make any creature change sex."

Droog Torturer: "But how could that help m'lord?"

Lord Tallus: "I could make a rampaging hero into a busty maiden."

Servant: "Well that could be useful..."

Lord Tallus: "But they retain all their strengths and skills from before the change! The change is only asthetic!"

Droog Torturer: "Why doesnt it work on Dwarves?"

Lord Tallus: "Thats because Dwarves all look the same."

*A faint scratching continues from the book.*

Lord Tallus: "Eh? Another spell...?"

*Turning back to the Index Lord Tallus looks again, and indeed there is another spell name that has slightly lit up. Possibly revived by close proximity to the Dark Lord.*

Lord Tallus: "The Spell of Feg."

*He reads the spell. "In order to envoke the spell of Feg, one must place their left hand in their pocket and grab a hold of a two shiny-round pebbles, still damp from a clear-running stream. Then envoke the words of Disorientation, Feg - fuh-eg - and wave right hand in direction of enemy. Do not breath in Feg. Feg is not a narcotic. For help in breaking a Feg addiction please forward all writings to Feg Support, a subsidary of Black Emporiums. Results may vary.*

Droog Torturer: "Feg? Its been a long time since I last had a good Feg... Mmm..."

Servant: "What's Feg?"

Droog Torturer: "A bit before your time boy, Feg used to be a cloud of black oily smoke that would disorientate and confuse heroes. On us evil beings though it just makes us calm and relaxed."

Lord Tallus:  "Now this I could use..."