Og-Grim-Dog and the Dark Lord

by Jamie Edmundson

  ‘Henchman is fine.’

  ‘Wonderful.’ He turned back to Assata. ‘I understand it’s not everybody’s thing, so feel free to think about it. Even if you don’t take us up on the offer, please stay until the wedding. It would be lovely for you to be there, since you played such an important role in bringing us together.’

  ‘I don’t think being a henchman is really my thing,’ said Assata. ‘I did what I did for my people. But I think I would like to stay for the wedding. See it through to the end, if you will.’

  ‘Of course. I understand. I only want people here at Fell Towers who want to be here. And who knows, we might just change your mind while you stay with us. Now, any questions?’

  ‘I’ve got one,’ said Og. ‘Why is there a Discount Dungeon Supplies depot here?’

  Lilith gave an annoyed sigh but let her master field the question.

  ‘We’ve decided to close down the weapons manufactory,’ said the Dark Lord. ‘Free up the workforce there. DDS are supplying all our military needs now.’

  ‘Sheev’s has got bigger since we left,’ Dog noted.

  ‘Yes. We made a tough decision there, too. Sheev’s supplies all our food now. The refectory has closed down too.’

  First Grim heard the intake of breath, then Dog’s tormented howl.

  ‘Nooooo!’

  After such a long time away from Fell Towers, all Og-Grim-Dog wanted to do was sit in their room in the basement and do nothing. Still in mourning over the loss of the refectory, they would venture out to Sheev’s a few times a day for their meals, and this went some way to ease the grief. Dog would stare into the distance, a tear in one eye, shoving fries into his mouth, until Grim would ask whether he might have some of his meal. Often, Dog was too upset to feed Grim, and Og would have to do it all.

  After a few days, this routine was broken when Gurin came down to the basement to fetch them.

  ‘We’re all wanted in the throne room,’ the dwarf said unenthusiastically.

  ‘What for?’ Og asked.

  Gurin just shrugged, and so they got to Grim’s feet and followed the dwarf up the stone steps to the next level of the keep. Entering the throne room, it seemed that everyone else was ready and waiting for them. Menials lined the walls of the rectangular room, while Assata and Simba stood before the Dark Lord on his throne. Grim got the impression that the Dark Lord enjoyed these audiences. Lilith, stood as ever to one side of the throne, gave the opposite impression.

  ‘Ah!’ said the Dark Lord as they approached. ‘We’re all here. Now, do you want to hear the good news or the bad news?’

  ‘The good news,’ said Dog in a nervous voice, as if he couldn’t take any more disappointment.

  ‘The good news comes from Kuthenia. Our spies tell us that you didn’t just capture the princess. You killed the emperor, too! Why didn’t you tell me?’

  Grim shared a confused look with the others. ‘What happened in the Hall of Supremacy?’ he asked.

  ‘The three of us never left each other’s side,’ said Assata with a frown. ‘We went to Borte’s apartments. Simba subdued her with some kind of neck pinch. I kept her attendants quiet. Gurin was on lookout. None of us went to the emperor’s apartments.’

  ‘Then you must have killed the emperor, ogre?’ the Dark Lord asked.

  ‘Yes!’ said Dog.

  The Dark Lord clapped in pleasure. Everyone else stared at Dog sceptically—Lilith’s dark eyes bored into his remorselessly.

  ‘Well, that is, we killed a number of Kuthenians while we were making our distraction,’ he clarified. ‘The emperor could have been one of them.’

  ‘Could have been,’ the Dark Lord agreed, though he sounded doubtful. ‘I suppose it doesn’t really matter who did it. The fact is, he’s dead. When I marry his daughter, my claim to the throne will be hard to deny.’

  ‘What about the bad news?’ Gurin asked, sounding less than impressed with the good news.

  ‘Well, your work in Kuthenia has drawn attention our way. Our eyes in Mer Khazer have sent us news.’

  Grim shared a look with his brothers. They knew it was Brother Kane whom the Dark Lord spoke of.

  ‘The Bureau of Dungeoneering have added Fell Towers to their list of dungeons. The heroes of the Bureau now have the right to come here, rescue my soon to be wife and loot my treasures.’

  ‘Will they come?’ Simba asked, knowing full well the previous careers of his associates. ‘Surely they wouldn’t dare.’

  ‘They’ll come,’ Gurin said. ‘Quality loot is thin on the ground these days. Throw in the chance to rescue a kidnapped princess, and it will be hard to resist for some adventurers, whatever the risks.’

  ‘Then we need to prepare,’ said Lilith. ‘If an invading army from Kuthenia is now less likely, we need to think about how we stop a break-in by the Bureau. Gurin, you were a member of the Bureau for years. Please take the lead on this.’

  Gurin nodded his agreement.

  ‘Any other questions?’ asked the Dark Lord.

  Lilith turned her gaze to Og-Grim-Dog.

  ‘Please, don’t,’ Grim whispered to his brothers under his breath. He really didn’t think bringing up the refectory again would help.

  ‘Very well,’ the Dark Lord said into the silence. ‘You are dismissed.’

  Assata closed the doors of the throne room behind them. ‘Well?’ she said.

  ‘I suppose I should look into the defences of this place,’ said Gurin.

  ‘Why not take Simba with you?’ Assata suggested. ‘Presumably he knows this place better than the rest of us.’

  ‘What about you?’ Gurin asked.

  ‘Someone needs to tell Princess Borte about the emperor. It’s not a pleasant job, but I’d rather she heard it from my lips than the Dark Lord’s. It’s her father, after all. Will you come with me, Og-Grim-Dog?’

  Put on the spot, Grim desperately began to think of an excuse to avoid going with the barbarian.

  ‘It’s the least we should do,’ said Og.

  ‘Very well,’ said Gurin, looking relieved to have avoided that task. He and Simba left them to it.

  ‘Let’s get this done now,’ Assata said. ‘Lead on, I haven’t visited the basement yet.’

  Reluctantly, Grim led the barbarian to the trapdoor that led down to the lower level of the keep. The menials on duty, now used to the coming and going of the ogre, raised the door and let them pass down into the musty depths. Descending to the bottom, Dog pointed to one corner.

  ‘Do you want to see our room?’ he asked Assata, in a childish attempt to forestall their meeting with the princess.

  ‘Maybe later,’ said the barbarian curtly, and Grim carried on until they were looking through the bars at Princess Borte. Her cell was large and comfortable looking from Grim’s perspective, with rugs and cushions and other luxuries. Half a dozen lanterns did a reasonable job of keeping the gloom of the basement at bay. Compared to her rooms in the Imperial Palace, however, Grim suspected it was a bit of a disappointment.

  She raised her head blearily, as if she had been asleep. It was hard to keep track of day and night underground.

  ‘Come to gloat?’ she asked them.

  ‘No,’ said Assata. ‘You may not believe me, but I take no pleasure in seeing you here. I have come with bad news, as soon as I heard it.’

  ‘Bad news?’ asked Borte, gesturing to her prison cell. ‘Is that meant to be a joke?’

  ‘There’s no easy way to say this,’ said Assata. ‘The Dark Lord has informed us that your father, the emperor, is dead.’

  ‘What?’ said the princess, one word conveying a score of emotions, from suspicion to despair. ‘How?’

  ‘We’re not sure. The report he has says that we killed him, but that cannot be. Was he ill or frail?’

  ‘No. What else was said?’

  ‘Nothing. I’m sorry.’

  ‘You have our condolences,’ said Og.

  ‘I don’t want your condolences, monster!’ Borte suddenly scream
ed. ‘I want out of this nightmare! I have to get back home, do you understand? Kuthenia needs me. The people need me.’ She looked at Assata. ‘Free and slave alike.’ She screwed her face up then. ‘This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it? A civil war, thousands of innocents killed, children orphaned and starving. I’m surprised you can hold back your sadistic grin.’

  ‘I won’t be a hypocrite and pretend I didn’t wish harm on Kuthenia. This is the best chance my people have of freedom. But nonetheless I am sorry for your loss. I know the pain of losing a good parent.’

  ‘Get lost, the pair of you! I can’t stomach the commiserations of people who caused all of this.’

  ‘Come,’ said Assata, and they left Borte with her grief. ‘Now, you mentioned that there are others down here?’ she said after they put some distance between themselves and Borte’s cell.

  ‘There are two others,’ said Dog. ‘The Dark Lord’s pet. And his brother.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Assata. ‘Because it wasn’t weird enough down here already. Why don’t you show me?’

  ‘What the hell do you want?’ Fraser demanded, his eyes screwed up from days of darkness. He hadn’t been afforded the luxury of light in his cell like Borte had. ‘Is that you Jonty, you wazzock!’

  ‘Jonty?’ Assata asked.

  ‘That’s the Dark Lord’s name apparently,’ said Og.

  ‘My name is Assata. I’m a agues here. Why does your brother keep you in here?’ Assata asked Fraser.

  ‘Because he’s madder than a bucket of wolpertingers, that’s why.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry. Can we get you anything?’

  ‘Drink and food. And a change of clothes.’

  Assata looked at Og-Grim-Dog. ‘Maybe you could look after him since you live down here? See to his basic needs?’

  Grim thought he had never felt so ashamed before.

  ‘Of course,’ said Og, sounding equally miserable.

  A Warning

  Over the next few days, preparations for the wedding between the Dark Lord and Princess Borte got in full swing. Gurin, the new head of security, recruited extra menials for guard duty. But that still left hundreds spare, who would previously have been making weapons or food, tasks now subcontracted out to DDS and Sheev’s. They were put to work decorating Fell Towers for the festivities. The old refectory was transformed into a grand reception room for the guests of the happy couple. Sheev’s produced special limited-edition figurines of the Dark Lord and Princess Borte, which began to appear with their meals, and were highly sought after by the loyal menials.

  With two weeks to go until the wedding date, an atmosphere of excitement and anticipation had spread around most parts of Fell Towers. Grim had to admit that the atmosphere hadn’t permeated down to the basement. The Dark Lord’s brother, pet and future wife remained a little glum.

  Lilith called the henchmen to a meeting in her office on the top floor of the keep. Assata, still not persuaded to join the Dark Lord’s service, wasn’t there.

  ‘I have received a warning about the arrival of a party of heroes from the Bureau of Dungeoneering. They could get here any day now.’

  ‘Do we know who sent the warning?’ Og asked pointedly.

  Lilith took a moment to study the three of them. Grim knew she was thinking, but her dark eyes were impossible to read. Then she made up her mind.

  ‘I’m going to trust you,’ she said, ‘but this information is to be shared with no-one else. I mean no-one. Understand?’ When she received their assent, the Dark Lord’s adviser continued. ‘Brother Kane is a henchman of the Dark Lord. He is with them.’

  Grim saw Gurin’s eyes widen in surprise, but he said nothing.

  ‘Obviously,’ Lilith continued, ‘they have no idea about his real allegiance, so that gives us an advantage. But that doesn’t mean we should underestimate the threat they pose.’

  ‘Who’s with him?’ Gurin asked.

  Gurin’s question sparked a sudden fear in Grim, something he hadn’t even considered until now. What if their friends were in this party?

  ‘I don’t have names,’ said Lilith, ‘but he told me there are four others with him. A knight, thief, ranger and enchantress.’

  Grim let out a sigh of relief. None of those descriptions matched any of the friends they had made in Mer Khazer.

  ‘It is the enchantress I am most concerned about,’ Lilith said. ‘We must be on our guard.’

  Og-Grim-Dog awoke to the sounds of shouts and crashes coming from above. There was no doubt about it. A battle raged upstairs.

  ‘Sounds like it’s time to fight,’ said Dog, making a poor attempt to sound disappointed.

  Grim went to the corner of their little room, where his brothers grabbed their weapons: pike and mace. That was all they needed to get ready.

  They left their room and went to the stone steps that led up to the next level of the keep. There they waited, listening.

  ‘You’re in trouble now,’ Borte’s voice drifted to them from her cell. ‘The Kuthenians are here.’

  ‘I don’t think so, Your Highness,’ said Og gently.

  ‘What?’ barked Dog, his voice animated and loud. ‘You think it’s the trespassers from the Bureau? There’s a full-scale skirmish going on up there!’

  ‘I hear no Kuthenian accents,’ Og said. ‘Mainly menials.’

  ‘Then who are the menials fighting?’ Dog demanded. Grim’s brother sounded ready to explode in his eagerness for a fight. ‘I think we’ll have to go up there and investigate.’

  ‘Gurin said we should stay down here,’ Grim reminded him, ‘and guard the princess.’

  ‘Yes, but there’s something strange going on up there. We can’t just leave them to it.’

  ‘Please don’t stay on my account,’ Borte’s voice drifted over again.

  ‘What do you think, Og?’ Grim asked.

  ‘Maybe we should have a look.’

  ‘Yes!’ Dog cried in exultation.

  With an uneasy feeling, Grim began to ascend the stone steps. He really wasn’t sure about this course of action. What if, by opening the trapdoor, they revealed the location of the princess to the enemy? Then again, they had friends up there that might need their help. As they approached the top of the steps, he heard the crack of weapons striking metal armour and wooden shields, the shouts and screams of menials.

  Og and Dog flung open the trapdoor and Grim quickly ran up the final steps. Only then did he look around to get his bearings. Menials were fighting against menials, and at first sight he could make no sense of it. Then he realised that one group had forced their way into the keep, and amongst this band of menials was a human. She was easy to spot. Wearing a deep blue dress and cloak, she held aloft a staff with a glowing, pale blue orb on the end of it. Her mouth moved as if she were talking, but amongst the cacophony of the battle Grim could make out no words. Whatever she was saying, the menials about her were doing her bidding.

  The enchantress, Grim realised. She has charmed the feeble-minded menials to do her bidding.

  Opposing this invasion of the keep were Gurin, Simba, Assata and Lilith, with a second group of menials. Amongst both groups of menials were archers, whose arrows sailed tragically wide of each other. Lilith screamed at the underlings with her to ignore the enchantment, while the other three were attempting to cut a path through the charmed menials, no doubt with the aim of striking down the witch who controlled them.

  ‘Og-Grim-Dog?’ Assata shouted over, noticing their sudden arrival.

  Gurin turned to look. ‘’Bout time. Give us a hand, will you?’ he said sourly.

  ‘Wait!’ Lilith shouted, her voice louder than Grim thought possible, stopping him in his tracks. ‘Kane and the others! I thought they would be attempting to rescue the princess?’

  ‘No,’ said Dog. ‘We’ve seen no sign of ‘em.’

  Grim wondered about that. Clearly, Brother Kane and the other members of his party had separated from the enchantress. But if they hadn’t gone to the basement to
rescue Borte, where were they? Then a thought struck him.

  ‘The crystal sword!’ he exclaimed.

  Lilith’s eyes widened. The Dark Lord had shown them the room containing the weapon he called his bane. The one thing that could kill him. What if the adventurers had decided to kill the Dark Lord first, then free the princess? It was bold, but the more Grim thought about it, the more it sounded like a rather clever plan.

  ‘Stop them!’ Lilith shouted. ‘All of you! I will hold the enchantress off here until you are done. Be quick, your master is in danger!’

  Wasting no time, Assata and the others disengaged from the turned menials. Grim ran ahead to the stairs that led up to the top floor of the keep. It was possible that Gurin and Simba knew of the room that the Dark Lord had shown to Grim and his brothers—a wooden stand in an otherwise empty room, with a crystal sword atop it. But maybe he hadn’t, in which case Og-Grim-Dog were the only ones who knew where it was.

  He ran up the stairs, heard the welcoming sounds of the others pounding behind him. Then Simba was somehow ahead, the swift-footed dark elf gaining the top of the stairs and heading for the corridor.

  Well, he’s definitely been shown the room, Grim decided.

  He followed Simba into the expensively furnished corridor, his lungs bursting, Assata and Gurin with him now. The far end of the corridor was red with the blood of the two dead menials whose job had been to guard the door. The dark elf ignored the sight, making for the open door to the room. The door that the Dark Lord kept locked; the lock that only the Dark Lord had a key for.

  Suddenly, a figure appeared in the doorway. Encased in metal from head to foot, it was already launching a gauntleted fist at the dark elf. For all his speed, it was too late for Simba to stop or change direction. The punch landed with a dull thud and the dark elf slumped to the floor, unmoving. Through the thin slot of his visor, the knight looked past Simba to the three-headed ogre coming down the corridor—Dog barking out a challenge—and shut the door.

  The Dark Lord’s Bane